#boomer mobile still
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Going wheeling with my dad tomorrow. He impulse bought a 1000cc UTV and just put a lift kit on it
Y’all want pics of the action/nature views?
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I'm very late to the party, but here's some highlights of my collection!
The top shelf is my Nightwing shelf, everything from Showcase '93 and Vol. 1 to current.
Bloodborne is probably my fav from that part of my collection, and while I may be a known TT hater I do love the way Campell and Mora draw Dick so these are just some of my favorite variants. (Discowing bottom center is my fav.)
It took me months to finally get the Roy variant, but the collection is officially complete! (Also, the Silver Age Omnibus was an early anniversary present 🥰)
Batgirls!! The 90s throwback cover is one of my all time favorite covers!
And finally, the pride and joy of my collection. It took months of searching too many stores in 4 different cities to find all the Donnas and I don't want to talk about the price I paid for Year 3 Part 3...
And a bonus!
Favorite ad on the back i saw while rebagging the ones that needed it!
i wish we the dc tumblrinas showed off our comics collections more often. like as a tag game or ask game or special day of the week or something idk. i want to see my mutuals’s collections and the things they’re most excited to own🥺🥺
#this took me forever to organize#i may have a slight problem#but if you cant get wildly into collecting a random thing in your 30s then whats the point of living#seriously though god bless the like 15 comic stores we stopped at in KC in June#id still be searching for some of those if not for that#my collection#(also sorry if the formatting is wonky im reaching boomer age and cannot figure out the new stuff fast enough)#edit because mobile wrecked the order...
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Every time I hear someone much older than me talking about how their shame about their bodies and weight have robbed them of all kinds of fun experiences and simple joys and delights in life, it breaks my fucking heart. Older women, in particular, have been shamed into and forced into (and perpetuated themselves) so many stupid narratives about what one "can't do" if you look a certain way. Sometimes they don't even notice it...they'll just casually be saying something like, "I would have loved to play volleyball back in school but this big ass wasn't going to look right in those shorts tee hee" and I'm like that's??? actually??? tragic???????? Especially when it's something they COULD still pursue or try but they've got a fixed mindset about it.
My 84 year old aunt really spent all of her 30s-60s believing that she COULDN'T just put on a swimsuit and enjoy the water in the summer. I have so many memories of this mindset affecting her all summer. Just casually existing by a pool in a swimsuit was something that women who looked like her Could Not Do. This is someone who broke so many gender barriers in her field, who was a pioneer and a bad ass, but who held herself back from something she truly enjoyed for DECADES because she's fat. A couple of years ago she told me how stupid she feels having thought like that now that her age has changed her mobility and safety in going to a pool and it's no longer literally possible for her to do so.
She bought the bullshit and deprived herself of happiness when it was possible, so she lost her chance at hundreds of moments of simple enjoyment she now looks back on sadly.
Really sadly.
I think this is a topic where we can literally see a huge generational change among society right now. The bitchy boomer who says something like, "oh she should NOT be wearing that" when a happy, chunky Gen Zer bops by in a crop top sounds like the death rattles of an ancient relic to most of us in younger generations. After we get over the overt hate that surges when we hear things like that, most of us can see right through that prickly exterior into the deeply damaged, sad, and vulnerable person inside who is the one that's the real problem in the equation.
And yet, while it can be easy to think, "Thank god I'm not like THAT" none of us are truly immune to the messages that are blasted in our faces all the time that still shame fatness and make us feel like we owe society a certain kind of "beauty."
Just keep an eye out for any limiting beliefs you have that are depriving you from joy and delight you want and need. As anyone like my aunt could tell you, you won't someday look back and think, "I sure am glad I didn't do what made me happy all those years!"
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One Hop Ahead Of You
ARTMS' Jeon Heejin + woo!ah!'s Nana (Kwon Nayeon) x Male Reader Smut
18,039 words
Categories | bunny girls FTW, stepcest (kinda), blowjob, threesome, daddy kink, cunnilingus, angry sex, spanking, breeding
Bunny kpop idols are the best. There's Eunbi, Tsuki, then Heejin and Nana... Thanks for commissioning me this piece; sorry for the late post! Enjoy all the synonyms I could use for "but" :D
Phone on, headphones plugged, music loud. That’s your story for road trips such as these, and you’ve zero plans about rewriting the plot.
The scenery of beautiful mountains and blooming trees can’t break your focus on your mobile device. Your parents can’t either, as hard as they try; they’ve told you once or twice during the whole trip to look up from the screen for once. No, actually, scratch that: they’ve berated you about it at least every five minutes, and you’re starting to grow sick of pretending you can’t hear them. Your nonchalant continued stares on your phone don’t exactly convince them you can’t hear a thing.
Yeah, this is what happens when you give your toddler an iPad. The boomers might be right for this one. You can’t live without staring down at a bright screen, clicking at a bright screen, watching a bright screen. Eh, well, so what? Technology is a necessity in these modern days, and it just so happens that you need this kind of distraction on the road trip. Your mother and father think otherwise, but that’s because they live like it’s still the 70s or something. You don’t know. That’s how parents are.
Mobile data serves you well anyway. Your combat skills do not. You’ve been trying to kill a character on this app for a while, and it stuns you how strong her damage is. You click the sickle attack button more times than you can count and choose a special damage in between three taps, but you still end up dead. You’re seeking vengeance because the player talked shit about you on the main chat, and it doesn’t look like you’re going to show them up. You've got two deaths to go before you're seen as a pathetic little shit who tries too hard, and five kills to cement yourself as someone who isn't.
God, you’ve been playing this game for years—how are you still not good?
“Jay,” you could hear your mother call out from the edge of your earphones. She’s driving, her ringed hands firmly on the wheel. She meets your subtle gaze through the rearview mirror. “Jay.”
Groan. That’s your job as a son: to moan, groan, and drone on about everything and anything. You’re exceptionally skilled in this profession. “What now, mom?” you ask.
She gives you a sarcastic but playful little grin. “Oh, so you can hear me.”
Alright, you’ll let her have that one. But still: “Only because you’ve been nagging me for the whole trip.”
“Now now, don’t talk to your mother like that,” your father chides. He’s a kind-looking dude; he’s got triangle-shaped glasses and stubbles of a dead beard on his chin. “It’s true, but rude. Very rude, not a good look.”
Your mother clicks her tongue. She gives your father a millisecond glare before returning to driving. “Hey.”
“Honey, you know I love you, but your mouth—”
“Leave it at that,” she warns, voice dangerously tight.
Your dad doesn’t heed her warning. “—can be a nuisance.”
“That’s it. I’m pulling over. And you’re driving.”
He raises his hands. “Okay, okay,” he says passively, “I’m sorry.”
They harrumph at each other for a while, then kiss and make up, and you laugh a little. Subtly, of course. Everyone knows that part of going through teenage years (well, you’re a little past being a teen when you’re nearly twenty years old, but your mind is still the same as when you were sixteen) is denying with all your heart that your parents make you happy. You’re just going with the flow, as usual.
It especially doesn’t help that you’re already an adult according to the Korean age system. Adulthood brings a kind of defiant independence in you, which you don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not. It has its moments, you guess.
“Oh, look at that,” says your mother, nudging your father, “Jay’s laughing!”
“I’m not!” you reply, biting your cheek so the smile doesn’t grow. Must. Not. Show. Them.
Your father peeks at you from behind the headrest and grins mischievously. “See? We still got it, don’t we?”
The car swerves, barely making you match your fist bump with him. For this, you allow a slight smile—as much as you like to hide it like a career-ruining secret, you love your parents. They’re like two peas in a pod. Your father’s a rambunctious joke-loving guy your playful mother falls in love with everyday, resulting in, well, having you.
Plus, because of that, you haven’t felt the need to regret being born or despising your parents, unlike other people your age. Their love for each other inspires you, and although every moment with them is guaranteed to have you be a third wheel again, you don’t mind. You love seeing them happy.
“Now that you’re back to earth,” your mother says, “can you please appreciate the surroundings? It’s too beautiful to go ignored.”
“That’s right. They won’t surround you when we fly back home.”
“Dad,” you groan, rolling your eyes. But doing a little observing is the least you could do. You can go AFK on this match for once. You’ve still got more mobile data to last a few days, so worrying isn't needed.
Look up. Blink once. Twice. It’s like a whole new world. Humble homes peek from between forests in the lower sides of the mountains. The sun is shining brightly, casting a yellow light on the trees that decorate the sides of the swerving roads. And the sky… has it always been that blue? The wispy clouds are just the cherry on top.
This place is so different from the urban city where your apartment resides. There’s no smoke, no cut trees, no rising buildings. It’s nature in its most pure state.
There’s no traffic either, but—
“Mom, look out!” you yell, but you’re just a little too late. Just a little, and it would count, but for this one it doesn’t.
You can’t do anything about it then. The large truck that ventures on the wrong side of the road has a mission. Whether intentional or not, it can’t turn back. It collides heavily into the windshield, and you’re wrapped in dizziness and despair as your old car launches backward, rolling in the air a few times before roughly settling on the very curved edge of the road.
Then it slides downward. You’re stuck in a spiral blurred with green and wood. What you remember is the feeling of being tortured and tossed through trees, and the truck following suit. It chases you long after its mission is complete.
Another thing you recall from the accident, as you’re lying down on the rough grass with blood on the side of your head, are two rabbits that stare curiously at you.
They seem to be sisters.
-
Voices, male and female, scruff and saccharine. They fill your ears like music but you can’t open your eyes to see to whom they belong. They speak of confusing topics and jumbled words. Can’t get a grip of their meaning. All the while your soul is yearning to rise from sleeping when it feels like you’re dying and the force inside you is struggling in defying a black fate.
Your body, however, is blank of any pain. How strange. Strange enough that it’s a strong alarm for you to finally open your eyes. They’ve been glued together for a while, so when your vision greets you, you surprise even yourself. There’s a person in a white lab coat, and a white blanket mantles you. Is this heaven? Isn’t heaven’s signature color white?
First things first: how the fuck did they let you into heaven?
“Ah, so you’re finally awake.” A man with a rounded cap smiles at you. “How’re you doing, bud?”
Blink. So… this isn’t heaven? Do they wear caps in heaven? You don’t think so. Whoever invented denim caps deserves a nice little throne next to Lucifer. “Um. Alright, I guess?”
What should you even say when you’re trying to piece together who he was? You know you’ve seen him before when you were younger, but you’re not sure exactly when. All you’re aware of is that he looks too familiar. Kind of like deja vu. The beard and wrinkly skin tell you of a tale old as time.
“Hello, I’m doctor Kim,” says the woman in the lab coat as she approaches you. She extends a hand to you and you shake it politely. “You experienced a car crash in the morning near the terraces. Luckily, a man saw the tragedy and dialed 911.”
“Tragedy?” you wonder out loud. You’re still alive, so why would it be called that?
Doctor Kim lowers her head. “Your parents died immediately from the impact of the crash, sir. I’m sorry.”
Grief comes strangely to you, even when you’ve heard the news. You’d say you’re mourning, because you are, in a way—from that moment, you miss your parents dearly and wish that time travel existed so you’d prevent the accident from happening. But you aren’t… crying. You don’t burst into tears on the spot. There’s not even wetness in your eyes to help. Moreover, you haven’t made a small prayer for easier things to happen. It’s like the stages of grief avoid you at all costs and don’t even bother to orient you about their loss.
Maybe you’re just in denial. You’ve been staring at a blank spot on the hospital wall for what seems like ages, and you’ve only been conscious for minutes. Something’s changed within.
Wonder who’d be your parent now that both of yours are gone. You’re an orphan. You don’t even know how to drive back home or go back to the convenience store where you make your money. All your belongings for the road trip that was supposed to go beautifully are gone in the accident.
Bite your lip thoughtfully. “Was it quick?” you ask quietly.
The doctor knows what you mean. Whether she’s lying or not is the question. “Yes.”
That comforts you a bit. What eats your insides from guilt, though, is that you never bothered to enjoy the road trip with them. You were always stuck to your damn phone. You didn’t talk much with them during their final moments, and it would haunt you forever. It doesn’t show on your face, though—it’s completely empty, devoid of any expression or pain.
“You really don’t recognize me, bud?” the man laughs, like he actually couldn’t believe it.
Blink. Then it hits you. “Chan hyung���?” you ask. Hope you got it right because you’re steepering on sureness now.
“Bullseye.” So you did. He sits down on the edge of the hospital bed and cups your hand. “I’m a friend of your parents. They told me to look after you in case anything happens. They really loved you, y’know? Still do.”
You look down meekly and nod. Yeah, he’s right. They did. The other part’s true, too; if they had souls and were secretly watching the whole ordeal going on, they’d still love you. That’s how unconditionally they did it.
“I’m on the emergency contacts list, FYI.” He hands you his phone. “They even had a will and all. I hate that we got to meet again like this. Could have been in better circumstances. But that’s life, you know. Plus, it was quick enough to be painless.”
Your hand, linked to the dextrose, hardens in pain as it wraps around the device, but you go on. There on the screen, see that your parents did in fact keep him on the emergency contacts. He’s telling the truth. Now you understand why he looks so familiar.
Look up from the screen, (like you should have in the car when your mother and father tried to make conversation with you.) “I—I used to play baseball with you,” you say in childlike wonder.
Chan laughs. “So I did. I’ll be happy to look after you. Probably even be your father, if you’d like.”
Your heart rises. “You’d really do that?”
“Of course! Your parents were good people, and I’d be glad to have you in my care. According to them, you’re a pretty good kid. Hope that’s true.”
“No promises.”
He laughs. He’s still got the same not-too-serious sense of humor like he did years ago. “What do you say, kid?”
He’s being a good guy, a good friend to your parents even after they passed, and you appreciate it. But being his son this quick after so much time seems like… betraying them. You know that’s not how it works, and your parents would have loved for you to gel quickly with him, but you’re just not ready. Something’s pulling you back.
What could it be?
“I…” you say, fidgeting. You don't know the right words to put it. “C-can I think about it first?”
The look on his face drops, but he smiles anyway. He must be a really good friend to be this understanding. “Of course,” he replies, retracting his hand from yours, “shouldn’t have put you on the spot. Just tell me yes or no when you’re ready. Deal?”
-
Three days is how long it takes for you to recover. To be fair, you already were—your limbs are working, and that’s enough for you. The doctors, however, insist on a lengthier stay and you kind of want to start shit in the living room and tell them how they were money-greedy exploitative little shits, but you’re not in the mood to cause a ruckus. Maybe some other time, when you eventually break all your bones and wheel out of the hospital cursing them for the bill. But yeah, some other time would work. Of course.
“I took the liberty of packing your stuff up for you,” says Chan, bringing over a luggage bag. It’s full to the edge of the zipper with clothes and other essentials.
You wonder how he went to your home and back here to the hospital this fast. “How did you—”
“I had some help,” he replies simply. You don’t question any further.
You’re in a clean pair of clothes now. You hated wearing the hospital gown. It’s like they attempted to make hospitals less sad by fashioning a bib into a larger size. There you are with your assumptions again. Maybe the stages of grief have come for you after all. Why do you feel angry all the time? This can’t be normal.
What stage would it be if you’re afraid to get into a car because of their loss? You step into it with shaky legs, looking back and forth, as if you’re scared the vehicle would lurch forward suddenly. To be fair, it is a possibility, but a rare one. Your fear, therefore, is completely irrational, yet there you are: suddenly scared of… cars?
Get in finally. The breath you let go, however, has been keen on getting out.
Chan knows well to avoid the path your parents went on when they died. He avoids it for both of your own wellbeings. They were close to him, too. He would hate to go down the road they died on. Like you, he wants to remember them fondly, not like the injured bodies that he said goodbye to at the morgue. Again, it’s for the best.
“Hey, kid,” he says. His peer at you through the rearview mirror gives you painful flashbacks. “You okay?”
He’s more attentive than he gives himself away as; he somehow notices your blank stare at the window and weak smile. He’s got you figured out, and you suppose that’s a good thing—it just shows how he could play his role as your dad pretty well if you let him. But then there’s the sense of yearning in you that’ll end up in no good. It’s yearning for your parents to come back, the yearning for them to somehow have the breath of life in their lungs again and have them rise from the morgue and walk back into your life. If they do that, you’d make an oath to be the best son.
Ah, you know that won’t happen. It’s impossible. It’s wishful thinking that won’t amount to anything.
“You could talk to me.” His eyes stare straight at the road, but he’s not really looking at anything. “I miss them, too.”
“I’m fine, hyung,” you say. You’re not, but who needs to hear that? Not the guy to whom your parents entrusted you to. You’re twenty years old—who needs to hear an overgrown child’s lamentations?
You don’t want to burden Chan at all. What you don’t know is he’s actually willing to hear all of it. You should have lamented about not knowing his openness rather than everything else. It would only lead to more sadness.
The sadness evaporates a little upon seeing his house. It’s a nice place, with two stories and a nice terrace to lounge at. Maybe, from the other side, it’s your parents’ way of still loving you: giving you a nice home and a nice (future?) dad.
They're still looking after you. Look up in the sky and smile. Chan catches it, and for a second you blush in embarrassment, but he smiles, too. "See?" is what he says, followed up with: "Everything's gonna be fine."
Trust him on that.
Open the front door and it welcomes you into his home. Its main color is pure white. You start to wonder how the white walls are unblemished even with its ruinable color. Maybe he had it cleaned up for your sake. The furniture's good, too, but all it's good for right now is to be a bed for your luggage when you start to arrange things.
"Your room's right over there," Chan says, pointing to an open door to your left. "Feel free to get some food or water. Whatever you like. You're family now." He steps closer and pats your shoulder. "Always been."
Smile appreciatively. Resist the urge to hug him and replace it with folding a few of your clothes into a pile to bring it over to your bedroom. Graphic shirts in one pile here, underwear and sleeveless shirts in the other over there. Add your headphones on top of the pile and you’re ready to start adjusting to your new room. Just one look and you could already tell it’s bigger than the one back at home. Well, former home, to be exact. You keep forgetting this is a whole new place that’s going to be where you sleep, rest, and laugh.
That voice gets your guard down, and so does the girl standing in front of you. That deep voice certainly can’t belong to the sweet-but-indifferent-faced girl leaning against your door frame. Look around for a bit to see if it’s anyone else’s, but there’s no one around. Just you and the alluring woman blocking the pathway to your new room.
She gestures to the stack of clothes in your arms with her brows. “You plan on doing anything with that or what?” she asks.
Yeah, that deep voice definitely is hers; you can hear it loud and clear. Not one syllable could belong to anyone else, no one but her. What’s her name? It’s—
“Heejin,” says Chan exasperatedly. Amusement is present in his tone too as he walks over to break it up and sling an arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t scare the new guy and let him in his room, please?”
“I’m just being curious, daddy,” Heejin explains.
Oh, so that’s her name. Heejin. Jeon Heejin. Neat. Has a nice ring to it, but it somehow spells trouble. You swear those letters can’t make up that word, but with Heejin, it sure does. Not only does her name spell it, but so do her eyes that are way too observant, tracking your every move with prolonged glances, and the tilt of her head as if she were a trained German Shepherd rather than the animal she reminds you of: a bunny.
A bunny?
Wait—
"Oh, it's you!" you say. Almost drop your clothes on the floor when you realize it. How could you not have caught on?
Heejin smiles. It brings the sense of familiarity to wash more over your mind like waves. "Thought you would never recognize me, Jay," she says. "Hi there."
Try not to gawk with all your might, but you do anyway. Just hope it isn't obvious because see here, the Jeon Heejin you know used to be a shy little thing, never wanting to come out and play with you when you were younger out of embarrassment. Now, she writes confidence into each and every one of her moves, with a dazzling little smile to go along with it. How did she manage the transformation? You need the tips ASAP.
"Oh, right." Chan slaps a hand to his face and shakes his head. "You two've met before, right?"
She's a little sleazy when she rests her back on the frame again and nods, eyes never leaving your body. If anything, she's the one who's gawking and even if, for argument's sake, you are, it's just an eye for an eye. The two of you are just amazed at how much the other has grown up. Nothing more.
(Or… ?)
"So it seems," she says bluntly.
"Ah, should have known. But it was a long time ago, wasn't it?"
"Mhm." Heejin looks you up and down and smiles. "You've grown up."
"So have you," you reply, because she has. Toned muscle clings to her arms and she’s let go of the rectangle-shaped glasses. Now, circular Harry Potter spectacles sit on the bridge of her pointy nose. She stares at you through them for a while. She's a CCTV; she's monitoring your moves in HD and watching you put your clothes in neat piles in the cabinet drawers. Heejin gives you a stare that lingers long after you're done folding them. She's thinking of something, and you're not sure if you want to know.
"Daddy," she calls out.
You don't know what you're doing when you turn your head in her direction. Much less when she winks at you. Blush furiously and hide your face behind spread shirts.
Chan peeks from the living room. "Yeah, hon?"
"I think Nana's waiting for you to pick her up? It's 3 p.m.."
"Ah, right. Can’t forget about that little rascal.” He wipes his mouth and gets up. “Help Jay with his stuff, please, Heekki?"
It only takes seconds for Chan to find his keys, but for you it takes hours. Your heart beats loudly at the thought of being alone with Heejin, and you can’t differentiate its drumming with being nervous or excited. When he finally gets out and you hear the car pull out of the way, you’re stuck. Heejin’s somewhere near the corner of your room but it doesn’t look like she’s the one who has nowhere to go.
She’s stunning with all those locks of shiny dark hair curtaining her shoulders and fit body. Her legs do more than peeking out from her low-cut shorts as she navigates your new room. The round glasses that sit on her nose just pull her whole, gorgeous look together. You can’t believe how beautiful she’s become. She was always a pretty girl, but the maturity and growth that coursed through her early years of adulthood made her glow. It’s like you’re looking at a new, refined version of her.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” says Heejin. She picks away at a poster of a famous basketball player, name redacted. “They were good people.”
“Trust me,” you sigh, “I know.”
God knows you didn’t appreciate your parents much. It’s a pet peeve of yours to be reminded to be grateful in grave situations, but your mother and father were different from other pairs of parents. Others were abusive, neglectful, cruel. Yours knew how to take care of you while letting you dip your toes into the pool of freedom at the same time. Your parents loved you. Not a lot of people could say that.
“And they told my dad to take you in, huh?”
“Does that bother you?” you say, with an unintentional bladed edge to your voice. Realize how you said it and immediately shut your mouth.
Heejin blinks, disarmed for a while, then recovers quickly with a smile that’s just as dazzling as her. “For what it’s worth,” she says, taking the chance to place herself beside you a little too close for anything that isn’t lustful intent, “I’d love to have you over here as long as you like.”
You don’t know what to say. Her being this close with you is setting off fireworks inside of you. Put a pillow snug in your lap just to be sure and nod. “Thanks, Heejin.”
“Of course.” Heejin rests her chin on your shoulder and whispers so softly that it could’ve been your imagination deluding you again: “I’ll make your time here worthwhile.”
Jerk your head, but she’s already scampering to the door and exiting your room. She doesn’t even look back.
“Hey,” you say, trying to break the ice that only freezes you, “Chan hyung said you would help me with my stuff!”
No response.
So you were right to think that she’s trouble. But god, would you love to be wound up in her.
-
You’ve stared at the ceiling for too long, but now, it’s not out of grief. It’s out of fear. Are you doing the right thing by wanting to fuck your sister? Well, she’s not exactly your sister yet, but she’s somehow related to you now considering her father treats you as a son, too. A stepsister, maybe? There’s no other fitting term than that.
What should you do? Is gawking at her and her desirable body going to make your parents in the afterlife proud? You’re sure they’d be disappointed. But is it your fault that Heejin’s grown into this naturally flirtatious woman? Not at all. Is it your fault that she’s so damn attractive? The answer is no, too.
It could be a yes though, because it isn’t Heejin to blame that her new brother wants to have sex with her. You’re both in the wrong, and two of those don’t exactly make a right.
Look around your room, then at the door where she leaned on as she successfully intimidated you. Is it locked? Fuck it, you don’t know, and you probably don’t even care. What you do know is that you’re too turned on by the thought of your new sister Jeon Heejin, and you need to do something about it.
(To the cracked hole in the fourth wall, you say, What? I have needs, too, you know. And you do, too—why do you think you’re reading this now?)
Lift your comforter just a little and slide your hand south. Cup your bulge, caress it, then spring it out. It’s already solid, and it doesn’t need too many strokes to have the blood rushing there completely. Your stiff rod aches for a touch, aches for Heejin, and stimulates itself to the thought of her as you start to jerk off.
You think of how she could swing those full thighs over each side of your face, and though her form would burden your chin, you’d happily eat of her. Bet that her pussy’d taste just as good as her lips. You’d lick and suck her clit while she moans and writhes until the two of you couldn’t take it anymore; her core would feel numb after the pleasure and your jaw would ache for days.
You recall how her lips were just inches away from you earlier, only barely touching the curve of your ear. Think of how those lips would feel much better if they were on yours. Yearn for your mouths to meet to the point that you’re moaning in each other, taking in the natural scent of skin and sex.
Finally, you think of the changes you’ve seen in her. Where was the shy, antisocial Heejin of yesterday? Now she’s grown, just like you, and looks far better than you’d imagine. She’s turned into this will’o the wisp goddess.
“Heejin,” you say, as quietly as you could, “Heejin, Heejin, Heejin—”
“God, I really turned you on that much, huh?”
Your pumps stop, and your sight catches onto the said woman you’ve been jerking off to. She’s in the same place as she was earlier, at her opening scene at the door frame. You’re more than happy to see the pretty Heejin, but she can’t show up now. Not when you’re jerking off. She can’t just appear in the corner like she teleported for the pure purpose to catch you in the act.
“Heejin!” you yell, pulling the covers onto yourself. “G-get out of my room!”
She’s wearing her sleep clothes now, but she still looks like she dressed to impress. Her body pulls together the skimpy shorts and loose shirt she sleeps in into something that could have been worn on a haute couture catwalk. Her raised brows, haughty eyes, and quirked mouth all show how she’s smugger than the word itself.
“Aww,” Heejin says, walking over to sit on your bed, “what should we do to you now, oppa?”
You’re horrified, to say the least. It’s your first day at a new house and you’re already doing something wrong. The bare minimum you should do in this situation is to tell the girl to fuck off. Tell her to go far away and flee to anywhere but your room. You can’t just stare at her like she’s a dream come true, even if she is.
Let’s see: you have your new sister on your bed who caught you jerking off. There has to be some other way this would end, but the two of you know where this leads. The question that remains is if you’d be able to hold back.
You make the first step to resisting the inevitable outcome. “Heejin,” you say, breaths shredded into panicked little gasps, “I’ll only say it again and no more. Get out of my room.”
She smiles sweetly and shakes her head. “Can’t make me. I want to know what you were doing, Jay.”
“No!” You won’t be saying it, you won’t dream of saying it, you’d rather die than to be caught saying it. It’s already bad enough when it goes unspoken. What more if you pronounce what you were doing with each syllable more embarrassing than the other?
“Then I guess I should just”—she tugs the covers off—”oh my, Jay oppa. You were touching yourself to me. And I thought I was just being narcissistic.”
Your cock leaks in the cold air. Heejin laughs tauntingly. It sounds so much more attractive than it should, especially when her voice is deep and rich. It sounds… sexy?
Oh, what are you doing? You should feel embarrassed, maybe even petrified at the mere thought of your childhood acquaintance slash new sister slash new crush seeing your dick. But your mind doesn’t brew with insecurities upon seeing her eyes glimmer with eagerness.
She can’t do this. No, no, no, you can’t do this either. Let fucking her remain a fantasy pirouetting in your head, not one that comes true. It’s so much more awkward when it translates into real life where you somehow think it into existence.
Awkwardness isn’t in Heejin’s dictionary, though. She looks far from uneasy or disgusted. In fact, you swear there’s a small grin dimpling her cheeks. It’s like she’s actually flattered that you’re jerking off to her.
“If I knew you had such a big cock, Jay oppa…” she says, placing a hand on your hip to prop herself on it. You jerk involuntarily, which happens at the worst time; your cock almost brushes her cheek. “I would have let you fuck me in front of daddy. Or would you rather I call you daddy?”
“Why are you here, for god’s sake?” you say. You’re biting your lip to suppress your humiliated screams.
“Well,” she taps her chin, a feat that would be adorable if you’d just cast the situation aside, “I thought I heard something, and it was just as I suspected.”
“Fine, I’ll say it for the third time: Jeon Heejin, get the fuck out of my room.”
“Oh, that’s right. Say my name, oppa. Daddy.” She winks. “Say it and I might just put my lips on this big fat cock.”
“No, you won’t.”
It sounds more challenging instead of intimidating, and it’s clear that Jeejin doesn’t cower away from dares anymore. “Watch me.”
She lowers herself onto your lower body and admires your length with bright bunny eyes. “I’d let you blow in my mouth as much as you like. I’d fuck my throat on it and give it a nice good kiss. Oh, right, you wanna know how? Like this.”
She engages with your dick into an open-mouthed osculation, swallowing the tip and suckling it, too. Groan, but when you pull your hand out to do the opposite to her head, she’s already sitting back up. You really can’t have your way here, not when your new sister knows of her danger and puts it to good use. She’s resourceful like that, and it both impresses and scares you.
Heejin wags her finger in your face as if she were scolding a trouble child. “No, no, Jay oppa,” she reprimands you. “That was just a teaser. If you really want me, jerk off to me. Say my name.”
You can’t say no to her. Well, actually, you can—you just refuse to. You’re fifty-percent scared of the outcome of making this deal with Heejin and fifty-percent excited. There’s an Alice-like curiosity in you that yearns to see what might happen. Would she really keep her end of the deal and suck you off? Or leave you with blue balls like she did earlier?
Wrap your hand unsurely around your penis again. She nods encouragingly.
Do your usual routine: up and down. Murmur her name over and over, your gaze connected with hers. Her smile grows bigger as your pumps become less measured. You start to spiral out of control. How can you not when she’s just too fucking hot? Her succubus stare, thighs that look fuller as they rest on your mattress, her intent that grows more clear as she rubs your thigh. You’re trapped in lust, and you know you have to settle down a little before you completely lose track of all senses, but you can’t stop. How could anyone when there’s Jeon Heejin as she lives and breathes in front of you?
Say her name, say her name.
Say it like a poem, say it like it’s one of fame.
Say it like you’re about to cum, which you are, and your climax isn’t one that’s too far—
“That’s it, Jay,” says Heejin in a tone that’s almost loving. As your cum shoots an obscene, one-direction spurt, she replaces your hand with hers. “Cum for me. You want to fuck me so bad it’s pathetic.”
Her touch is as rough as it is soft. You say it’s too much in between thin whimpers of pleasure, but her flexed hand is determined to keep pumping. Her fist tightens and her jerks grow stronger.
“Naughty, naughty oppa. Look at this thick hot cum. Is it all for me?”
You’re spraying all over her and her meaty thighs. Her shorts get stained and you try with all your might to contain the bursts of white, but you end up on the edge again. You end up releasing more. Your thoughts run in circles and bump into each other—they’re scolding you, hurting you, asking you why the fuck are you cumming from your new sister’s handjob. You’d answer them by saying you don’t know, but you know the reason probably more than you know yourself:
Heejin is unbearably alluring, and her giving you a handjob is unbearably wrong. Strangely, both of these facts get you going. The mere truth that she shouldn’t be doing this with you makes you want more of it. Has grief taken a more different route in traumatizing you? Oh god, what would your parents think?
What would Chan think? He trusts you enough to be a good big brother to Heejin. Would you really throw his trust in you away, all for his irritatingly hot oldest daughter?
If you’d take a look at the situation—you having just ejaculated on her—it seems like it.
“No,” you say. It’s a crack in your integrity knowing that you could stress her name in any way or form, and she’d still be hot as fuck. It wouldn’t undo what she did to you and what you let her do. “P-please. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“That’s what makes it fun, right?” She wipes your cum from her thighs with her shirt. “Besides, I did say I’ll make your time worthwhile.”
How does that work? A brother and sister, whether related by blood or not, should bond by having sincere talks and treating each other, not by having sex.
(But she’s right about the fun part. Looks like Heejin is just as fucked in the head as you are.)
“I want to have some fun, Jay oppa,” she explains. She places her palms on her thighs caked with cum, and pouts. From that, you know you can’t resist. You wouldn’t dare. “Won’t you let me, pretty please?”
She’s both hot and adorable. Hot enough to drive you crazy and adorable enough to convince you to do any of the most mundane things out there. You don’t know how to do this with her. It seems like no matter how cute or sleazy she poses herself as, she’ll always get what she wants somehow.
It’s dumb of you to even try, but you do: “Okay, what fun do you want to have?” Say this while collecting tissues from the little box at your bedside table to wipe down her thighs. You expected to use the tissues for self-love sessions and nights when the tears couldn’t stop. You never thought that you’d have to use them to clean your cum from your new sibling’s legs.
“You know exactly what I want: I want this”—she points at your cock—”in here”—then at the center of her shorts.
Immediately your already gray morals come out to play. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Heejin,” you say, biting your lip to stay quiet. It’s not intentionally hot or whatsoever, but Heejin’s mind particularly hangs onto that for a while. “We’re brother and sister now. We can’t do this. What if your dad finds out?”
“Aww, I get it. I do, really. But you’re so going to hit my guts if you fuck me right now.” She throws off her shorts, leaving her in nothing but a set of cute pink panties. Then, she scoots herself over so that your cock rests upon her small belly, right in front of her core. “See? You can spread me that well, and I won’t mind at all. I promise.”
Look at your cock and how far it can reach inside her, how it can push her walls apart. Oh god, it’s tempting. Everything about her, from her perfect face to her spread thighs, calls for you to forgo propriety and just fuck her.
“This bunny’s waiting for you, oppa.” Heejin does more than wait and pulls down your boxers. Pulls down her panties. Pulls down your ethics and morality and principles and everything you used to go by; down they go into the river of fire. “This bunny girl’s gonna fuck herself on this cock. You want that, don’t you, daddy? You want me to ride you and call you daddy. Make me call myself your little bunny. Yeah, I’ve got you all figured out.”
What she’s doing may be wrong, but what she’s saying is right. You, in all unfiltered honesty, want to see Heejin bounce on you and ride you endlessly. Her toned thighs and calves are made for it. She deserves getting what she wants after jerking you off.
But does Chan deserve this: have his new son and his daughter betray his trust? Turn the family upside down all because of lust?
Oh, who cares what he thinks? When Heejin slides her pussy down your cock in one try despite her refusing tightness, you lose your thoughts. The will to take her roughly, just like she deserves, takes its place. It rules your head with an iron fist, just like how you rule Heejin’s impossibly tight pussy with iron-clad thrusts.
“Oh, oh, oh fuck,” she gasps. She squeezes her eyes shut and grabs onto your shoulders. Her hold is tight. That’s one thing it has in common with her cunt. “Daddy, you’re so big. I can’t, p-properly ride it, you’re too big.”
Your cock is held hostage by Heejin’s stubborn cunt. She wants it to stuff her fully, but never could let it inside her. She’s too tight. Your hands on her waist, you push her down as gently as you could. She lets out deep groans and sighs.
“That feels so good, daddy,” she tells you. After that, you achieve a dream you never thought would come true, as light as it is compared to fucking her: a kiss. It’s not as passionate as her bouncing on your crotch, but it’s good enough to have you blushing. “Yes, you like it when your little bunny girl kisses you? You like how tight she is?”
You nod. That’s all you can do when you’re speechless. What else can you say to her? You can’t tell her that it isn’t true when every iota of her words are true.
“You can do better than that, daddy,” Heejin gasps, head tossed back. A storm of black hair hangs over your bed clothes. “I know you can. Yes, just like that. Do it. Fffuck me harder, I want it, fuck—”
Clearly, slow, precious pumps into her tiny hole aren’t going to work. So it isn’t exactly all your doing when you lift Heejin and suddenly have her pinned to the bed. The balance of power is reversed—you’re now pounding her to your mattress, spreading her legs and propelling your thrusts into the perfect target: her small, damp hole. You take advantage of how wet she is by thrusting bluntly and exclude the rest of your length for a chance to breathe. With Heejin, though, there’s no such thing as breathing. She’s left you gasping for air since your reunion.
“Hnnn, lookie here, daddy.” She lifts her shirt, revealing a surprising set of subtle yet hard abs, where your bulge appears and disappears. “You’re so big that you’re, fu— fucking reaching my tummy. That’s why you have to go deeper. Can’t waste such a big cock, right?”
She grabs your waist to aid your pumps. She must have done some serious lifting in the gym; those harsh tugs and pulls have got to be from somewhere. You’re thrown into a looped route of jamming your tip against her G-spot and cervix hard. Heejin’s grippy pussy refuses to let you go through the night without going down on her. Not that you’d have it any other way. Silly how just moments ago you were telling her not to continue her advances, yet now you’ve advanced past flirty banter with her.
Make it a point, no, a goal to thrust upward rather than only forward. She spreads her legs more, and you reach under her loose shirt to squeeze her breasts. Her nipples are perky and deserve each of your tweaks. Heejin whimpers, as if she were an actual bunny caught into a trap. What a terrible hunter you are, but it’s simply revenge. The disguised predator, Heejin, was actually prey—she’s caught into the ropes she went to with confident hops.
The hunter becomes the hunted.
“Fuck, you’re going to put a baby in me,” whines Heejin. “C-can’t do that, just—no, just cum on my stomach, please. My mouth, my legs, anywhere.”
When she puts it that way, it makes you spite the fact that it’s forbidden. You want to release in Heejin and make her feel your warm cum. Let it infiltrate her womb and give her a baby. You can’t have that happen, yet you want it to happen. It shouldn’t be like this.
“Please,” you say. You’re getting incredibly close that it rides on your tongue like the aftertaste of a dessertful. You can’t believe you’re actually begging to cum inside her, but any man would if put in your place. Anyone who thinks it’s pathetic clearly hasn’t met Heejin face to face.
“Daddy,” she says, “you can’t…”
Saddening news, and she isn’t too happy about it either. The tremble of her lower lip is one you capture with a firm kiss. Your breaths get caught in her mouth as you near climax. And the orgasmic Heejin’s wrapping her legs around you tight, as if daring you to breed her even if she’s clearly told you not to. It’s like her legs, sealed around your hips, bear the weight of the advantages and disadvantages and spread them out for you, yet the thing in between them makes you forget all about the cons.
It’s scary how you almost give in.
Just in time, however, you pull away and bust a load on her tummy. It’s the product of all the jabs your rod did at it. It’s only fair it gets to show the plentiful result laid all over the muscled skin.
Heejin looks down at the pool of cum while gasping for air. She swallows, then smiles. “Not bad for a guy who’s gonna be my big brother.”
-
You can already tell having sex with her is going to become a usual affair. The look she flashed you before leaving for school is telling enough. When she woke you up with a sloppy blowjob, saying in between soft suckles that “I have at least one hole you could fill,” you went insane. You’ve made your bed. Now you have to lie in it.
To be fair, you’d lie in Heejin forever if you could. But as a son, you have duties to fulfill. Although Chan told you that you’re free to do whatever you wish, you still have the sense to help around the house. You don’t want to be seen as a burden. You’d want to be anything but the new son who doesn’t know how to do things, especially for your new sisters.
Your new relationship with Heejin, though, exceeds familial bond. Will you hide it from Chan or put a stop to what she’s doing before it transforms completely? Down the road feelings from both ends might get involved and increase the overall taboo of the situation. Chan would probably get suspicious.
You don’t know what to do.
Take your mind off things. Make an extravagant meal, or at least a style-over-substance one. Follow the instructions of a recipe for mashed potatoes at the back of the gravy powder packet. Hell, you could do this: set cut and peeled potatoes in a pot of briskly boiling water, mash them after smearing them with butter, shake pepper onto those motherfuckers… done!
Put your masterpiece into a bowl and set it on the table. It actually looks pretty good. Maybe being a chef is your calling. You can already imagine the scenarios you’d go through as one. Chef Jay doesn’t sound too bad, right?
Chan is at work while Heejin’s at college. You’re glad you won’t be seeing Heejin for the remainder of the day; as much as you’d hate to see her go, meeting her would make you feral. She left a to-do list on a post-it sticky note on the fridge door, which looks like it’s been there for a while if you take into consideration the boxes all being checked.
A more recent one, however, is Chan’s own reminders written on a piece of ruled college notebook paper, apparently addressed to you and Nana:
Good morning! Have an awesome day ;)
Please treat yourself to the Mcdonalds in the fridge, just reheat it pls
Take care of yourselves, love you!
Ah, you wouldn’t have made mashed potatoes if you knew Chan had left some McDonald’s. You hope that he still remembers your favorite from years ago: a classic Big Mac with medium fries to go.
Open the fridge eagerly and—
There’s nothing?
You know who it is. That voice is decidedly more youthful than Heejin’s, but not anymore that high. It’s Nayeon. Nana, to be exact. Everyone you know calls her Nana in order to avoid confusing her with Im Nayeon who’s somewhere in the line of the kids of your parents’ friends.
Nana’s younger by only a year, hence being the perfect playmate for you back then. The two of you would run around and yell at each other gleefully, basking in the joys of childhood you didn’t know would last that short.
So, when you step closer to her, you don’t really believe it’s her. If there’s anything in common between the bright Nana and the laid-back Heejin, it’s that they’ve both grown up beautifully.
“Nana?” you ask.
Her hair was a silky black then, often wrangled in between with sand and dirt, but now, it’s a mass of coffee brown. It looks like she’s gotten glasses, too, aside from a light fringe that settles prettily on her forehead.
But then there’s Nana’s body, which you used to pick up as a child to mimic flying heroes with, which has grown… voluptuous. In the volleyball shorts and casual statement tee, it flatters her medium-sized bust and meaty thighs just right.
(It probably even coaxes you into thinking she’s the perfect… girlfriend?)
Her face still is adorable as ever. If someone were to put the cutest face in the world with the perfect body, the outcome would be Nana. She’s more than that, actually; she just so happens to be exactly your type.
Oh no, here you go again. Your feelings for her from your youthful days resurge, and you realize you’ll probably add another fuck-up to the list before this day ends. Meeting Heejin was one thing, but Nana, your first grade playmate slash friend slash childhood crush? Slash new sister? You’re as good as dead to Chan if he finds out what you want to do to her.
“Jay oppa!” says Nana. Her smile has grown more beautiful, just like the rest of her. It’s still cheeky, but wider. “You remember me, right?”
How could you not? “Y-yeah.”
“Aww, sweet!” Nana pokes you on the shoulder. “Anyway, I ate your Big Mac, sorry. I got hungry.”
Oh, so Chan did remember your favorites.
“One meal wasn’t enough for you?” ask her, grinning. You still got that playfulness in you with her. Hopefully she reciprocates.
She gives you the finger.
Scoff and turn away with raised hands. “If it makes you feel better, I made potatoes for you,” you announce, “but I guess I’ll have them since you ate my Big Mac.”
“Meanie.”
“Overgrown baby.”
“Jaybird.”
It’s just like the old times, except for today, nobody gets hurt. The two of you know the truth: you’ve missed each other so much. Not a day goes by when you don’t think of each other. You’re embedded into the depths of everyday thoughts, the times when she’d say oh no, I wasn’t thinking of you but only because she doesn’t realize it because you’re layers upon layers upon layers of idle thought.
It would take an expeditioner to navigate through the history you and Nana have.
You’re childish. What makes up for it is what you say next, because it’s kind of true and isn’t merely something to say just for the hell of it, as you step forward and lower your gaze to her with a sobering glare: “Brat.”
Nana approaches you with her hands folded behind her back. She tilts with each step, as if contemplating on whether she is one or not. “Am I?”
She’s so much smaller than you, yet your hands fill up when you place them on her hips. Her waist is tiny compared to the slopes of her hips and thighs. Her cheeks (on both parts, to be clear, because you know what you’re thinking) are sizable, too, and you can’t choose between the two pairs on which to squeeze.
“Yeah.”
“Can you handle it?”
You see where this is going. You’re still a mirror of each other, and the glass still reflects lust. “Nana.”
“Fine,” she says indifferently. She hops on the kitchen island and crosses her arms. That should be a sign that she’s going to be anything but. “Be like that. Pretend you don’t know what I wanna do. Even better, pretend you don’t like me.”
She’s got it all wrong. Draw in some air and let it out immediately. “I do like you, Nana,” you clarify. “But—”
“But?”
How do you tell her what the matter is without revealing that you just had sex with Heejin the night before? You’ve no idea how to go through this. Your feelings for her collide with your attraction to her sister, as well as what you did with her.
No outcome of this is morally right, but who cares for morality? You do, although you’re the last person who should be talking about that. You’re trying to salvage what’s left of your ethics and piece it together to make yourself believe that you’re a good person. Newsflash: you’re not. No good person would fuck his new sister and want to fuck the other, too.
Whir the script you used for Heejin for her younger sister. “We’re family now,” you say weakly.
Nana rolls her eyes. “Get off your high horse.”
“It’s not a high horse. It’s… it’s decency.”
“Hm. Okay.”
It’s surprising how quick Nana concedes. Her simple answer should have led to a simple result: the two of you never talking about this again and respecting the boundaries of the other. But no, she’s walking towards you, setting her hands on your shoulders. Her mouth is nearing yours, somewhere you’ve dreamed of it residing despite it being so wrong.
“Then stop me,” she dares you. It’s a tougher dare than the ones she made you do on the playground. “If you’re so righteous and don’t want to kiss me, stop me.”
You shouldn’t kiss her. You want to, but it’s something that should never happen. Your feelings for her since your childhood days can’t come out to play when she’s your new sister. No unspoken law of morality says that it’s fine for you to sweep her up in your arms, kiss her, and take her to bed. If you do, you’re committing multiple crimes.
Nana is the braver felon. She presses her lips on your mouth, and you have to admit, in spite of the wrongness, that it’s everything you’ve dreamed of. Her chapsticked mouth is soft and sweet. You really should have held back. Nevertheless, her tongue is in your mouth, and soon you’re holding her head in your hands so you could kiss her properly.
She’s turned you into a felon, too. So rob her of her breath. Hold her body hostage on the island. Kill your hesitation. You’re one of the same, yet only one of you has shown any hesitation in doing this. In fairness, there’s still a voice in the back of your head that commands you to stop.
You don’t listen to it.
“Did your dad put any CCTVs in the house?” you ask breathily. If you’re going to do something wrong, you should at least try to hide it.
“He’s old as shit. Of course he didn’t,” says Nana, giggling. “If you eat my pussy right now he won’t know. Unless, of course, you want to get caught.”
“So you’re scared of climbing trees but not getting caught having sex?”
“Hey, I’m not scared of climbing trees anymore! Now shut up and eat me. Consider this… your lunch, since I had your McDonald’s.”
“By all means, Nayeon,” you say, pulling down the shorts that live up to their name and the flimsy set of pink panties.
“It’s Nana—ohhhh…”
Her correction gets lost and translated into moans. You’re sending quick, dainty licks on her clit. Enjoy the shivers Nana does. You know well to prey on that area after that, besides your experience with an old high school fling and sex ed. You also know to caress her thighs to send chills up her body, somehow even bringing heat to her core.
She’s too light to cause injury, but she almost, almost does when she squirms her hips harshly into your face. “Oppa!” she squeals. Her fingers are wrapped at the edge of the island as she lifts her lower body up for you to devour. “Th-that feels so good��fuck—”
“Thought you didn’t like to curse,” you say. Break the contact with her clit and let your finger take its place.
“And I thought you were a virgin.”
You don’t realize that your finger rubbing on her sensitive little nub takes the offense out on it. “The fuck?”
“Y-yeah, I know.” Nana hisses. She rolls her hips up and down. “I thought you’d be too scared to have sex with me. You know, besides the obvious reasons.”
“So you’re saying I should be the guy you thought I would be? And stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare—”
Laugh. “Relax,” you tell her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll eat this delicious pussy of yours till you’re screaming, I promise.”
Nana laughs as well. She rests her calves on both of your shoulders and smiles. “Spoken like a true non-virgin.”
It helps that she’s so fucking delicious. You’d start having her as a rewarding meal after tough days rather than McDonald’s. She’s the perfect balance of sweetness and tanginess, filling your mouth like a rain of sugar. Wrapping your lips around her nub just brings out more wetness and moans that are just as sweet. Her sounds of pleasure are exactly what you’ve fantasized about them being: soft yet high, clinging to pitched tones and increasing in volume when you slurp on her nub.
Her sounds are so much different from her sister’s. Heejin’s moans are deep and unearth even deeper feelings of lust for her. Nana’s drive you crazy in a different way. They urge you to keep eating her, to keep suckling harshly on her little clitoris so you’d have her stiff nipples poke the front of the cloth of her shirt, to keep doing away with her tiny hole so that she’s begging in that cute little voice of hers.
She’s more passive than Heejin, too. It took rough patches for you to finally be able to fuck her sister into temporary submission. For Nana, it only takes a few licks here and there, and she’s already shaking. Still, you can’t choose between them.
Why choose anyway when you can have them both?
Nana, of course, is good enough for now. Though she’s got you in a padlock between her thighs and forcing you to keep eating her, you give in happily. Your hands are curled around her thick soft thighs to maintain her sprawled position on the island. And dear god, are you taking advantage of it. The suction of your lips is almost cruel, and the poor girl has to alternate between loving it and being overwhelmed.
Run your hands along her delicious backside then squeeze the two round globes. She moans appreciatively, and she’s faced with another two decisions to choose from: to reverse herself into your hands so you could play with her ass more or to go forward to have your mouth absolutely devouring her. Both options are sure to provide her pleasure, but she can’t choose just one. So she moves her hips forward and backward, grinding on the tip of your tongue and your rough palms. It feels so much better this way for her. She’s finally found a good routine.
“Oppa, oppa, Jay oppa,” groans Nana. “Please, p-please.”
She doesn’t specify what she’s begging for. She doesn’t need to anyway when you know the answer. That’s why you run your tongue along her soaked labia, then let it peek into the hole they welcome you in. Delve your tongue inside her deeply. Her ass lifts off the surface and you have to pull her down to earth though she’s close to meeting heaven because of you. No, she’s staying here, under your control and touch. She isn’t going anywhere.
Not that Nana would rather be anywhere else. She’s content with having you orally please her. She likes the feeling of being sprawled out before and under you and letting you have your way with her. She was wrong to think you were a virgin; the wildest laps of an inexperienced mouth definitely won’t feel this good.
She should eat your lunch more times if this is how it would end.
“Your tongue, fuck,” she says, voice shattered, “ it feels so good—don’t stop, please, I can’t—”
You don’t plan on it. Nana’s too delicious, too sweet to stop eating of. She’s definitely miles better than what you were supposed to have for lunch. Although your head still swirls at the idea that you’re actually having sex with your crush, hesitation is a faint dream. Her moans, sweet and whiny, prod you on and tell you a story of a climax approaching.
Draw out the plotline by tracing a line from her slit to her pearl, repeat then, shove a plot twist in there by suddenly curling your tongue inside her. She provides the dialogue and ending line:
“Jay oppa, I’m cumming!”
Nana’s screams switch to squeals when you spank her bubble butt while continuing to eat her out. She reaches for your head and pulls it deeper between her thighs, while her other hand rests on her left nipple. The combined pleasure unexpectedly makes her leak of squirted girl cum. Of course, you waste no time in licking that up.
“T-too much, fuck, oh yes,” she gasps. Her breaths are burdened with each word. “Spank me, oppa, just like that!”
Everything you do drives her crazy. From your spanking and sucking, her hips never fail to lose control. They knock, sway, and dance while her pussy drips with more accumulated wetness and cum. Despite her satisfaction, it’s clear that you won’t be able to drink all of her juices when the mere act of doing it forms more.
“Oppa, oppa, stop.”
Pause and look up at her with a mouth smeared with juices. “What’s the problem?” you ask. You’d hate to have done something wrong to her.
“I think daddy and Heejin unnie are at the driveway.”
Shit. You immediately pull away from Nana’s cunt. She barely gets her shorts on right when Chan and Heejin come in. Pray that the kitchen smells of what it’s supposed to instead of sex. You can still catch the slight scent of gratification in the air.
“We’re home!” says Chan. He comes bearing gifts: supermall department store paper bags strung in a single wrist. You’re strangely more drawn to Heejin rather than the clothes that might be brought home; she counts as a gift, right?
She’s barely wrapped, though. A tube top designed as a blue handkerchief dangles around her bust. The shawl doesn’t exactly play the probable role of a ribbon when it’s thinner than one.
Oh well, easier to unwrap and break into pieces.
“Hi, Jay oppa,” says Heejin. Her smile is wide; she knows you’re flustered by her choice of fashion today. She looks at Nana with a comparably colder gaze. “Nana.”
Sibling rivalry, you assume? The tension is incapable of going unnoticed. You wonder what it’s for. There must have been history between them. You wouldn’t know, however; you’re an only child. Were.
“How was the…” you say, trying to break the thickness in the air but find that you don’t have the words to do it. Why do you even bother? Oh, right, they’re your sisters now—as a big brother, you have to try and help them make ends meet.
“Oh, the mall?” Chan says. He’s unknowingly rescued you from awkwardness. He throws you the bag. “Pretty good! I got you a shirt. Heekki bought some stuff, too.”
“You didn’t get me anything, daddy?” asks Nana disappointedly. The redness in her face is lucky to be passed off as the heat’s doing.
“Maybe if you didn’t spill that water on the floor I’d give you your present early.”
The youngest sister tilts her head, but when she turns around, she realizes what her father means. Just when you thought you’d left the coast clear, there’s one piece of evidence you failed to hide: Nana’s slick and cum. It drools from the edge of the island and on the ground. Even worse, your shirt is stained, too.
“I—uh, daddy—”
“What? Gonna cry, Nayeon?” Heejin asks. She flashes her sister a taunting grin.
What is going on between these two? Why is Heejin bullying her? Why is Nana looking angrier than she’s ever looked in her life? You truly don’t understand.
“It’s Nana,” the younger girl replies. Her shoulders are visibly tense.
Chan gives them a stern look. You know what that means: cut it out, or I’ll make you. You’ve learned to translate those looks from parents of unruly children at public places. “Girls,” he pacifies them. “Don’t want to start a fight in front of your new brother, do you?”
“She started it!” Nana says protestingly.
“And I’ll end it. Cut it out and clean your mess up.”
Heejin smiles sweetly yet artificially as her sister obeys what she’s told to do. Then, she drags you to the bedroom out of sight.
Cut to black.
-
“You’re a bad person, Jay oppa.”
Those are the first words Heejin told you after she pulled you into her room. Her kisses aren’t as passionate anymore when they’re more angry than lustful. Her lips mash on your neck, mouth, and chest, all while she unbuttons your shirt with quickness you’ve never seen in her.
Your shirt’s torn off you before it could even live on to be a hand-me-down. An angry Heejin, you find out, can do things like that. She isn’t all seductive and sweet when she’s furious. And right now, she’s burning on every end with wrath.
“I think that’s why you agreed to have sex with me,” she says. Pulls off your bottoms so she can sit her bottom on you. “Because you wanted some kind of fucked up stress relief. And then you see me, and you go ‘hey, I could fuck this girl and since she’s such a slut she wouldn’t mind.’ That’s what you thought, right? That I’m just another dumb slut bunny?”
None of that crossed in your mind. All you knew when you were reunited with Heejin was that you were very attracted to her. “Heejin, it isn’t like that. And you’re not a slut.”
“For you,” Heejin throws her shawl to the corner of the room, “I am.”
She said it, not you. Still won’t agree to it. But when Heejin’s riding you at this pace that you can’t keep up with, you might change your mind.
Her thighs ripple photogenically when they slap onto yours. Your face can’t say the same. From the moment the door was closed, she pounced on you. She takes the role of a hunter again. She has her hand on your chest and her ass perched on your crotch. It all starts and ends there.
“Oh, and you looove lording it over me, huh?” she asks. She’s yelling at you, angry at you about something you don’t even know yet, which is supposed to make you feel scared. You should be cowering and promise yourself to never ever underestimate her again. Instead, you feel…
Aroused?
Your cock is hard enough to push past her slick walls and bask in their embrace. You hear your own breaths partner up with Heejin’s.
“You know I like you and your dick so much,” she continues. Her bounces are strong. Days and nights spent at the gym keep her stamina strong. Is she a singer, too? Her voice hasn’t cracked once. Or maybe she’s just that angry. “That’s why you like making me jealous. You know I can’t control myself around you.”
“Heejin, it’s n-not like that.” Surprised that you manage to get those words out of your mouth. All that’s coming from it are moans.
“So what is it?”
“Wait, is this about Nana?”
She growls. Her pace quickens, and you’re off the edge again, your hands planted on the white mattress shaking and failing to keep you up. Her voice is like a trigger word that shuts all your systems down.
“See,” she says. She shuts her eyes and bites her lip. “You even, hahm, call her Nana, too.”
Give up on trying to remain stable. Place your hand instead on Heejin’s ass to help her meaningful grinding. “Everyone calls her that.”
“But you don’t even call me Heekki or anything. It’s not fair, you know. You and your fucking crush on that bitch.”
Well, she’s right. You do have a crush on Nana. She doesn’t have that wrong. The thing is—
“I’m sorry, Heekki.”
You’d tell her that as many times as she wants if that’s what makes her feel better. You still want more sessions like these with her, maybe less violent, in the future, even if your feelings for her sister are beyond mere lust.
Right, Nayeon. Nana. What do you do about your attraction to her? Could you like Heejin and her at the same time? It isn’t fair to both parties, including you. You can’t just lead them on. You’re not supposed to, to be more precise; they’re your sisters. But of course, you break that taboo and are fucking the eldest sister to her guts in her bed after having just eaten her sibling’s pussy. You wouldn’t choose one over the other.
“Hnnn, yes.” Heejin minces her words in heavy, dark tones that sound a lot more desperate than the real her. It really is your fault. You’re making her this way. “Call me that again, Jay oppa. Please? I’m, I’m your Heekki, right? Your only bunny girl?”
Little white lies, little white lies. “Yes, Heekki,” you reply. “Now hop on daddy’s cock like a good little bunny.”
“Yes, of course I will, daddy!” She’s nearly sobbing when she resumes her riding. The flexes of her thighs help her lifting and resting on your crotch. She gasps because of your hands sneaking under her handkerchief top and squeezing her ample breasts. “D-daddy, please, Heekki loves your cock, please fuck me harder!”
Jerk upwards. Heejin’s perfect pussy is a real-life fleshlight. She could be your toy anytime, one you’d bring and fuck anywhere. She’s too fitting for all the secret desires embedded in your heart. Who wouldn’t want a slutty little bunny girl toy like Heejin, with an unexpectedly sexy deep voice and a fit body?
You’re all too focused on her tiny cunt. Her hole is just made to be bred. You have to remind yourself you can’t do it. It’s hard to resist when her cunt is virginally tight and the flesh of her ass is enticing to play with. Even her groans tempt you, all those little whines and pleas shoot right at your heart (and dick.) You want to fuck her like nothing’s wrong, like she isn’t your sister and you’re not supposed to be doing this.
“Daddy, daddy, oh, daddy—” Heejin gasps.
Swipe at her clit and she screams. Shut her up with the finger you used to rub her nub, sliding it into her unprepared yet otherwise welcoming mouth. “Shut up, slut. That’s what you are, right, Heejin? Daddy’s slutty bunny girl?”
Self-contradicting or something. Oh, you don’t know.
Still with your fingers forcing her mouth open, she nods. “Mmm. Mhmm, daddy, your slut bunny, yes—”
Heejin isn’t angry anymore. Your cock turns out to be the solution to her problems, even jealousy. You’d hate to tell her that her envy is rational.
How would you tell her?
She sucks on your fingers, eyes glowing with tears of need. “Cumming’n you, now, daddy,” she breathes. “I want to be daddy’s only bunny girl, t-the one who gets to cum around his big cock everyday, please. I’m not mad, Heekki’s not mad anymore, I promise.”
Kiss her, and for a moment you forget about your own trials, too. The world gives its toughest times (resisting the urge to fuck your new sisters dumb) to its strongest soldiers (you).
-
You have more secrets about yourself and what you’ve done than you can count on ten fingers. Not even a sworn oath could drag them from your lips. Torture like waterboarding or a knife to your throat would be useless. Your lips are sealed at all times. No exceptions.
That’s why you’re able to fuck both Nana and Heejin without them knowing about it. It’s been months and it’s still going on. You can’t believe it reached this point.
You enjoy the differences between the two girls whenever you fuck them. They don’t think that you’re fucking the other either. The angry sex you had with Heejin *reduced her worries about your possible (and very real) attraction to Nana by a lot.
*(Citation, if required:
The girl was on your thigh, a night when Nana and Chan were out. You and Heejin made up an excuse: we’re too tired. It’s a school night. Some shit. The point is that the two of you threaded the circumstances and made it line up to you being alone. No distractions.
Heejin still calls you daddy, and that time was no exception. She was naked from the waist down. Her upper body being clothed in a tight baby tee didn’t make it less sexy. Seeing how the piece of clothing wrapped around her lithe form turned you on already. To add to that, she was riding your thigh, hand on your length. You made the small living room your heaven.
“Fuck,” Heejin whimpered. She chewed on her bottom lips as she rode your thigh, making use of your bounces and your hands on her hips. “Daddy, how’s it that you’re so good even when your dick isn’t inside me?”
You were flattered. Therefore, (and it was the only right thing to do in response to that), you bounced her harder. Let her grind down on your knee and stimulate her clit on the curved edge. She’s a good girl. No past tense for that one. Heejin is always your good girl, and you’re her daddy who spoils her too much. No past tense for that one either. You truly do spoil her too much—you let her drag you in the bathroom when you’re shopping just so she could drop to her knees to suck you off. You buy her expensive brands though you’re sure she makes more money than you. You do too much for her.
Her payment is better than anything you give her. She’s a good little girl who bounces on daddy’s lap and has his cum as milk before bed. Remembering that, you lifted the baby tee up to kiss her nipples. You let a slight chew ride the edges of the brown little area, then sucked hard. It gave you the reaction you wanted, the reaction you craved: Heejin cumming on your thighs.
Her grip on your cock was too tight and she never stopped jerking you off. You came on each other, bathing skin with love and lust. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.)
Nana’s the more oblivious one. She knows she has you wrapped around her finger, too much in fact that she doesn’t entertain the idea of you liking Heejin, too. *She was eager but scared at first. Now, she fucks you without doubt, without regret.
*(Another citation:
It was after a meaningful talk that she suddenly brought up that “you haven’t fucked me yet, Jay oppa,” she said. Her natural pout made it easier for you to dive into the subject.
“Sure I have,” you replied. “What are you talking about?”
You thought back to the times you fingered her to squirt and put your mouth on her. Nana was always weak for that, and you assumed that was the only way she liked it. That was why you didn’t bother extending it past that.
“Yeah,” said Nana, looking at the night sky from the terrace, “but you haven’t, like, actually put your cock in me. I want to see it! I want it inside me!”
“Alright.” You sat up. “Sure.”
“Huh?” Her cheeks reddened. She didn’t expect that at all.
“What? Let’s do it.”
“I thought you’d be all hesitant or something,” Nana explained shyly. She looked everywhere except your piercing gaze. “I think that’s why I asked. Um… what am I even saying? I want your cock, Jay oppa.”
“Come get it then.”
You loved seeing Nana so shy and bashful. It was so different from the playful arrogance she sets when she’s around you. She could be so cute sometimes.
All the time. You still haven’t gotten over what you felt for her. It’s been long since you were adopted by Chan, yet your crush on Nana’s been longer. You think that maybe she does have the same feelings. After all, why would she let you fuck her? But you keep telling yourself you’re making it more complicated than it should be. To keep on Nana’s good side, and out of your own fear, too, you need to fuck her. No sappy feelings mentioned, just the good ol’ rawdogging.
You’re happy about getting to fuck Nana. Still, it isn’t the same as getting to be her boyfriend.
You went on, nonetheless. The first time she sank down on your length, she let out the cutest sound you’d ever heard. Nana was adorable in every way. Her hands scrunched up to her face like a bunny’s would as she shyly let her pussy take in your size.
“You’re so big,” she said.
“Heard that a couple of times. What’s new?”
“Asshole.” Nana slapped your shoulder. “You sure I could do it?”
“More than. You’re almost there.”
You tried to act like you were no stranger to this and therefore didn’t care. It was difficult when Nana’s pussy was so closed around your girth that you had to guide her downwards. Her thighs twitched and her moans were higher than they usually were. When you went down on her with your tongue, she always screamed, or when you fingered her under the blanket while watching a movie. This sound from her, a whiny gasp tangled in between a shout and a cry, was new.
You wanted to become more acquainted with it, for which you started to thrust.
“Fffuck,” she whispered with a wince. Why was the pain good? It wasn’t supposed to work like that. “Jay oppa, that feels really good.”
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?”
“Just a little. Just keep, fffucking. Me. And I’ll be okay.”
You couldn’t help it. You dove in for a kiss. You held her face in your hands as you pumped away inside her. This time, you made sure to be careful. It was the first time you had ever penetrated her.
It was the one of many times, though, that you made her cum.)
“Jay.”
Deja vu hits you. Or maybe you’ve been substituting grief with it. It’s been almost a year and everything still reminds you of your parents. Jay isn’t exempted from that. You zoned out on him, just like you did to your mother and father.
It’s your duty to look at him and pay attention. He’s done so much for you already. It’s the least you could do. It’s what you would have done if you’d known that fateful day that your parents would die. “Yeah?”
Chan smiles. “Are you alright?” he asks you. He pushes the tinfoiled chocolates towards you. Dessert is an everyday thing in his house. “We lost you there a little.”
Unwrap one and pop in your mouth. “I’m fine, thanks. What were we talking about?”
“I was saying I got a promotion.”
You smile. Good things happen to good people. “Congrats, hyung!”
“Thanks, Jay! But…” Hesitantly, he continues, “because of that, I’m going on a business trip. I’ll be gone for two days.”
Heejin’s eyes widen theatrically. “Oh no,” she says in faux disappointment, “oh no, daddy.”
It sounds like she’s addressing you rather than her own real father. More context clues: she’s inched closer to you and has a hand on your thigh. She gives it a nice squeeze, causing you to straighten suddenly. This is the riskiest Heejin has gotten.
Steal a glance at Nana, who sits at the opposite side of the dinner table. She’s staring at the two of you with fire in her eyes. While she’s too cute to be menacing, she still sends a clear message: get Heejin off you now. She can’t bear with her sister being all touchy-feely with you, or having you alone with her. If she didn’t want to save face, she’d have pounced on the table to tear Heejin’s hair out.
And she’s got such a pretty, pretty face to save, doesn’t she?
“D’you think you kids could behave while I’m gone?” Chan asks. He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, you’re all of age, and it’s technically legal, but if you want me to stay—”
“Oh, daddy, it’s fine!” says Heejin. She looks at you sweetly and raises your joined hands. “Jay oppa and I are good friends! We’ll keep the house clean!”
“What about you, Nana? What do you think?”
Nana’s glowering stare at you and her older sister is prolonged and envious. She truly can’t look intimidating with such an adorable face, but you feel her anger. It’s telepathic how she could sit there in silence and still tell you wordlessly that she’s angry. Furious is probably a better term; you can see flames rise from her eyes.
She swallows and composes herself the best she could. “I’ll be fine,” she says quietly.
Chan asks his daughter if she’s sure, and asks the older girl the same as well. He doesn’t leave you out either. He wants to balance a family and work life properly. Both should hold the same weight on the two pedestals.
That’s how you end up with him gone for two days, and during the first few minutes of his departure, you and Heejin are kissing each other. Nothing more than that is what you promise. Chastity isn’t the best virtue to go by in terms of happiness, but you attempt with what you could to keep it pure.
This is where you understand the self-contradiction, for Heejin’s stark naked from the waist and up. You can feel every bit of unclothed flesh beneath your palms. You can be the expeditioner, Heejin could be the map. You’d spread her, map out each bit of pale milky skin in the connection of your two bodies’ threshold. You’d tear her and use her to the point of impurity.
But as you said: chastity.
It’s not like Heejin’s a saint herself. The skimpy booty shorts grind down on your lap as you kiss in her bedroom. Play with her nipples you will, then also take the time to appreciate her soft thighs.
“These thighs are fucking amazing, Heekki,” you say. The nickname’s a familiar aftertaste in your mouth now. A delicious one.
“You want to fuck them, oppa… daddy? What should I call you?”
A hand on the nape of her neck, you lay Heejin down on her bed. “I don’t care. Whichever, just make sure you let me fuck these legs.”
“Oppa it is.” Heejin grins cheekily. She spreads her arms just as much as she tightens her legs together, letting you appreciate the smoothness of her pits and her slim, beautiful arms. Not to disregard the muscles denting the skin, though. “Isn’t it so sexy? I’m fucking my big brother, and my little sister can barge in anytime. It’s so risky, right, Jay oppa?”
Slip your cock between her pressed flesh, and you easily discover that her thighs are as good as they look. Slide in, slide out, and repeat the cycle like a habit of vice. You’d never want to recover. Something could speak to you in the back of your head, urging you to let go of what’s wrong, and you wouldn’t listen. Even if that something was, let’s say, Nana?
Speaking of…
“What’s wrong, Jay oppa?” said girl’s older sister asks, curious about your sudden alarmed look.
You’d say a lot of things to her, now that you have the chance to. Only one comes to mind: “I, I think there’s someone at the—”
“I fucking knew it.”
That’s how it all starts. It begins with the scene that goes like this: Nana stands at the doorway with shock veining red in her eyes. Her hand is firm on the door knob; looks like someone forgot to lock before they fuck. That someone may be you or Heejin. You never know. It’s too late, anyway. Nana already knows.
You’d adlib a lot of things in this situation, too. However, none of them sound plausible. You can’t speak when you feel this odd sense of guilt brimming in the core of your heart. Seeing Nana’s horrified expression, you realize that it’s rooted from you thinking you’ve betrayed her. There’s her, obviously being your childhood crush and the girl you’ve fucked weeks on end, and then there’s you, fucking her sister in the bedroom where she’s supposed to flee for sisterly advice and familial gossip. It’s so incredibly wrong, all of it: your girth being locked between Heejin’s thighs, her obviously enjoying the way the underside of your cock rubs her preyed pussy, and Nana, the other girl you’ve been fucking. The other sister you’re fucking.
“You lying bitch,” spits Nana, glaring at Heejin. Such a word should never escape her mouth when she looks that pure and sweet, but she isn’t what she looks like, sexually speaking. Emotionally speaking. “I’m gonna tell dad, and you’re so fucking screwed.”
“Then I’ll tell him you fucked me, too,” you fire back. Venom laces your words.
Heejin looks at you in horror. “What?”
Oh no.
Oh god.
You definitely should have thought before you spoke. Now, the cat’s out of the bag. The taboo secret you’ve tried to hide for so long from both siblings is out in the open. You can’t lie or fuck your way out of this anymore. It’s not going to work.
Nana catches on a loose thread in her sister. She tugs it to sew back her own pride. “Yeah, that’s right,” she says haughtily, “he fucked me, too. What, you thought you were special or something?”
“Hey.” She’s really going in for the kill. You have to put a stop to it before it escalates: “Let’s all just calm down—”
Heejin turns to you and laughs after a short, bitter little scoff. “No fucking way, Jay.” She drops her legs and kicks you away. Tumble into the bedroom cabinet. “You tricked us.”
She’s right. You’ll admit that because you can’t even deny it yourself. It’s true through and through; you hid two secrets from three people: your sisters and new father. But secrets always come to light, and today just so happens to be the day for your dirty little secrets.
“Yeah,” pipes up Nana. “You wanted to use two girls as your personal cumdumps you could just throw away. You don’t—”
She stops. The older girl is awfully silent and suspicious, though you are for other reasons as well.
“Oh.” She stares at Heejin for a moment, then laughs. The palm she’s placed on her mouth is only there for dramatic effect; she doesn’t bother stifling her smug laughs. “Oh. I see it now.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
Nana walks over with surprising confidence in her steps and wraps her hand around your cock. That’s the last thing you expected her to do. Your moans are a little rougher this time because of that. Nana doesn’t bother stopping to reconsider what she’s doing: jerking off her new brother in front of her sister who shares her own blood and flesh.
She pouts so pitiably that it could be a genuine emotion if she pleases. “You don’t let him cum inside you, do you, my sweet unnie?” she asks. “That’s right. I know you don’t.”
Heejin’s eyes go all bunny wide. The irony of it all could be entertaining enough for your average telenovela enjoyer. It helps that she plays her role of the shocked and offended domineering sister so well.
But this isn’t a telenovela; this is real life. You’re actually going through this. You can’t turn it off in spite of your desire to. When there’s the yearning inside you to see what more there is to unfold, though, you give in. You don’t say a word to stop the sisterly quarrel. You simply stand there prone to Nana, who jerks you off with an unrestrained anger.
Heejin, who’s used to playing the cruel girl to her sister, finds herself in a position she’s never had to experience: getting the short end of the stick. Getting pierced by the end of the stick. Was her sister’s all-too-true accusation the forbidden apple to the shame she feels out of nowhere for her naked body?
She stutters. You’ve only heard her stutter when you’re fucking her. It’s so strange to hear how she clumsily stumbles over her words in real life where she’s got no escape. “Okay,” she says, giving up, “so I don’t let him cum inside me. So what? It’s not my fault I’m not a slut like you.”
“Oh please,” scoffs Nana. Waving off her sister’s insult is also a first for her. “Tell me something I haven’t heard before. At least I get to feel his warm, thick cum inside me. You’re too scared to even let him fuck you in a position that isn’t missionary.”
“Girls,” you say, in one last futile attempt to calm them down. Do you even want to calm them down? You’re not sure.
Nana pulls you away from her sibling and smiles with such untainted sweetness that it makes you forget she was mad in the first place. Well, she’s still a little mad for what she says next:
“Come on, oppa.
“Let me do something for you that she can’t.”
Her shirt becomes a figment of your imagination. You swear it was on a few seconds ago. But now, you see how it is: no bra. Not even a white camisole. Her perky breasts are there for you to toy with. You have multiple choices, actually: her soft tummy and wide hips are there, craving for your attention. Of course you give it to them, in the form of lingering hungry touches.
Your lips are on hers all of a sudden. It doesn't even take minutes for you to have your mouths and tongues all over each other, licking where you can and kissing till the lust ferments. (Hint: it would never.) There’s an imaginary time limit going on for you and Nana, and so you’re tearing clothes off each other and stealing kisses as fast and as needily as you can.
It doesn’t take the whole time limit for Heejin to get jealous. “Get off him,” she growls. She kisses your back, the touch sending shivers on your skin. Her nipples push on you. “You like me better, don’t you, daddy? I’m your Heekki, right?”
You don’t know. As of now, you like the other bunny girl better. “We’ll see.”
“‘Daddy’?” Nana giggles. “That all you got, Heejin?”
“Where’s the ‘unnie’?”
“You’re not the unnie unless you prove yourself to be one,” the youngest of the three of you answers in a sickeningly flattering tone. She brushes Heejin’s cheek. “So what’s it gonna be?”
Heejin stammers again. The smarmy and arrogant her is lost in the jealousy she gathers because of Nana pushing you down the bed. When she sees how you react to it with your needy face and hands on her waist, the anger burns inside her harder.
Still, it surely can’t be the flame of fury that’s making her this hot and bothered, can it?
Nana backs off to present her ass to you. She circles her hips in the air, giving you a show, then places a hand on both of her cheeks. The denim shorts barely cover up the swells of her ass. “Take this off me, please, oppa?” she asks. And it’s so polite that it isn’t really your fault that you give in and tug the messily cut thing she calls shorts down.
“Daddy!” Heejin says in protest. She’s naked as well, but she’s still left out.
“I think I should be the one calling him daddy here,” gloats Nana. She rubs her ass on your cock. It perfectly pleasures the underside of your length. “After all, he’s the one who’s going to put a baby in me. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”
Her panties slide down her legs. And now, she descends.
Down she goes, but she’s only going higher. Your cock splits her pussy open, and it’s just as good as the first time. Nana still brings the same thrill you get when you fuck her hot body. Her bounces are more precise, and she learns to give you more than just the benefit of getting to screw her—she gifts you a show of her bountiful backside unintentionally clapping with the other cheek.
Spank her for that, though you should really reward rather than punish her when she’s only making you feel good. Doesn’t matter; she loves it. She looks back at you and bites her lip sultrily.
“Fuck,” you groan, “such a good girl, Nana.”
Her moans are perfected with pitch and pleas. Nana’s expressions are timed well with your thrusts and guiding hands on her hips.
“I’m a good girl, too, daddy,” Heejin says softly. She kisses your mouth. “I’ll show you, okay?”
Chan’s eldest daughter climbs on top of your face. You pull off her shorts as well—you welcome all kinds of pleasure here. Nana slams herself down harder, and right on the second you groan due to it, Heejin’s already planted her pussy on your face.
See, these are the thighs you’ve dreamed of. These are the kind that would actually crush your head. Her muscular skin ensures that your head is subjected not only to thick softness. And yes, you’ve eaten Heejin out before, in times when you’d keep her prone on the edge of her bed while you pull orgasm after orgasm out of her with just your tongue, but this time you do it with increased gusto. The sisters’ blended moans sound better than any choir of your choosing. Name a band as well, while you’re at it, and Heejin and Nana’s voices would still outdo their songs.
“Yesss, thank you, daddy!” gasps Heejin. “Oh, mmm, I’m your good little girl. And because you’re my daddy, you should always eat your good girl out.”
“You talk like an attached trophy wife,” Nana remarks with a snortle. That’s not fair on her part; you know how desperate she can get when you’re fucking her, but you can’t really oppose it when Hejein’s muffling your mouth.
The other girl can’t retort either. Your tongue’s too good to her. “Shut up. He likes my pussy more. And he treats it sooo well, don’t you, my daddy? Better than you do Nana?”
Let’s see: well, you don’t know. Both sisters have amazing bodies you’d do any time of the day. You haven’t really given the intensity you submit to them much thought. It’s hard to think now when Heejin’s urgently riding your tongue while Nana rides your cock.
“No answer,” Nana says triumphantly. “I guess he’s biased there.”
“Hmph.”
“The better girl for oppa is the one who doesn’t immediately cum just because he’s touching them. Bet?”
“It’s a bet,” replies Heejin. She really shouldn’t be giving in to a deal she’s sure to lose; you know what the quintessential quiver of her hips mean. Then again, she’s not one to back down from a competition.
It’s kind of entertaining to see the differences between the two girls. It counts back then as well. It’s like they switched personalities with how the other fits the former just as well. Nana’s not afraid to use you. She rides you at a lightning-impulsed pace, rocking your cock with a tightness you’ll never forget. Her cries are wrapped with weak gasps. On the other hand, there’s Heejin, who’s still used to being the submissive little girl to you when it’s nothing close to her real cocky attitude out of the bedroom, who’s still afraid to use you. Oh, don’t forget her moans—their depth and groany tinge make your cock throb. Too bad it’s inside Nana.
(It’s actually not that bad at all; the pulsing and twitching cause Nana to shake deliciously. Her slow, meaningful grinds bring you to life.)
Hence, you’re fucking Heejin with your tongue faster, with no care for the juices that slide down your chin and the sides of your mouth. Her clit bumps your nose. It’s an advantage you take—you push and pull her back and forth to get her shivering whenever her precious pearl hits the tip of your nose.
Nana isn’t left out of the equation either. Push your lower body upwards so that your tip meets the end of her pussy. Shimmy them so that it rubs her walls. She gasps girlishly and soon finds out that she isn’t made for the fight she started with her sister. She’s chosen to fight the wrong battle.
“I’m close,” she whimpers. Her eyes are sealed shut. “You’re too good, oppa.”
“M-me too!” Heejin says. Her voice is on the brink of a yell. Sloppily suck her clit and she’s past that. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, keep licking me like that, oh!”
“Shit… Jay oppa!”
You’re soaked on both ends. Try to clean up Heejin’s stream of cum the best you could and pump Nana’s slick out of her. In the midst of everything, you don’t stop. You want to keep hearing the girls’ beautiful cries of pleasure.
“God, enough, daddy,” begs the shaking Heejin. She’s slapping her own breasts, lip bloodied under her teeth. “I want to cum on your cock, too.”
A better premise. “Sure.”
“Wait.” Nana stops the two of you. “Who came first?”
Heejin turns away with pink cheeks.
Nana’s known her all her life, so she reads that look better than anyone else could. “Of course you did.” She rolls her eyes. “You don’t deserve to sit on his cock.”
“I do…” Her eyes are glossy. Her desperation really doesn’t go away with shame. If she were to be honest, it’s the shaming that deepens it. “But please, daddy, please—”
“Fine. Let’s ask oppa what he wants us to do. We’ll see who’s the better girl for him”
You can’t recognize Nana anymore. You know how big of a sub she can get, yet you didn’t realize how rough she can be as a dominant party in the bedroom. With how she orders around her sister and you, you’d think it’s a usual thing for her. Maybe it is.
“Nana-ya,” Heejin says, trying to bring the tone she lorded over her little sister with back. It ends up weak—it’s to no avail.
“Do it,” Nana tells her with a pitch of finality. “Ask him.”
“Fuck,” the other bunny girl says nervously. She swallows, then turns to you. You’re just as on the edge as she is. “Daddy, what do you want us to do?”
You have plenty of situations you could make them turn into reality. Some even cross the line. There are already plenty of boundaries you’ve soared past. You just have to choose one out of the many fantasies you have because now that you’re looking back at the chaos of it all, you wanted this to happen. You wanted them to find out. There’s a fucked up voice inside you that insists on becoming riskier, becoming more careless. It’s supposed to be blocked out.
Still and all, there’s Heejin and Nana beside you on the bed, with their shared pouty lips and eyes glistening with want. Said distinct, glossy features give you an idea.
“Suck my cock,” you say finally. In other settings that would have been a grave insult to the average middle school outcast. For Heejin and Nana, it’s the word of a deity himself.
Both girls don’t waste precious time on questioning if two sisters sucking their new adopted brother’s cock is morally right or not. What matters above all is that their lips decorate your length. It’s like they’re determined to give it a bath. It’s the only way you know how to explain it when Heejin’s round, doll-like eyes stare in awe at her sister running her lips up and down the sideless shape of your cock and your sensitive slit. Shiver on the occasion she licks there. Nana knows how to take cock as much as she’s learned into the art of fucking your face. It goes both ways here, you see. You wouldn’t have thought she was the one who was just recently a virgin.
Heejin leaves the tougher things to the expert. While she’s the one who first sucked your cock between the two of them, it’s clear that Nana’s better at this. She can hear your ragged moans. She remains determined to please you. She kisses your heavy balls, sucking on the prickled skin on each and licking at them lovingly.
“Fuck… Heekki…”
That’s a sign for Nana to up her game. She glares at you, and it’s everything but subtle. She throws out all the anger she’s held in her heart after the PDA you put on with Heejin recently onto sucking your cock. Her throat is tight and her mouth is warm as your cock enters and exits, stabbing through the breaths for air that never quite make it to her lungs. She doesn’t mind losing air. She does, actually, but she’s quite more focused on getting your attention back on her.
Heejin doesn’t let up on the competition. Like you said, she isn’t the type of girl to back down from a challenge. Whatever she competes at she’ll give it her all. She might have lost and came earlier than expected just a few minutes ago, sure, but she’s a competitive girl. She always wants to be on top. Or if not, underneath you.
That’s why her lips alternate between your testicles. Bite your lip to suppress yourself from tugging her hair. It doesn’t work; your hand ends up sifted in her hair and tugging so that her nose pressed on your pubic patch. From there she has to take in your musky scent and have the precum from your tip drip down the side of her face.
“We’re being good girls, Heejin,” Nana says after pulling away from your cock.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” the older one of them admits. She licks the underside of your base teasingly, sending a gasp and a sudden shot of cum out of you. “What d’you think, daddy?”
They seem to not have noticed that you orgasmed a bit. They keep lapping and kissing your cock like nothing could compare to it. No piece of arcade candy or slice of cake could match the taste of your cock. They feast on it, the little devils they are—Heejin decides to take a turn at swallowing your cock whole and succeeds while Nana kisses your thighs. You’re sensitive all over, and they have no signs of stopping. They’ll keep suckling and licking all day if you don’t conquer control again.
Therefore: get up like your latest orgasm didn’t occur.
“On your stomach. On the bed. Now.”
Soon they’re scrambling to follow your orders. Aren’t they always? Their butts are in front of you side by side. They say sisters have a lot in common—for this situation, it’s the wetness rolling droplets down their luscious thighs and the two replicas of the same, passive look as they turn their heads to you. They’re waiting for your next command.
You don’t give any. It’s all on you now.
Push yourself inside Heejin’s slick pussy. Perhaps she deserves to be fucked, like she says. So don’t bother to extract lengthy inches and just fire short, driven thrusts. Spank Nana to keep her occupied. Her moans are as sweet as her sister’s, much more when you finger her.
Tandem and might. They’re foreign concepts to you since you weren’t a sporty kind of kid. You still find yourself taking all those out on the two girls. You position yourself so that you’re able to pump fast into Heejin while keeping the deep thrusts going while curling your fingers into Nana’s weak spots.
“That’s not fair, Jay oppa,” she tells you, face buried into the sheets. It’s lucky that you even get to make out a fraction of her words. “I was the one being good.”
“Maybe he just likes me more,” quips Heejin wittily. It’s a lost sound when you punish her with a pronounced pump. Little do you know that she’d find it hot. “Fuck yes, you’re amazing, daddy.”
She gives up on trying to keep her head raised. She drops it and groans with the bed muffling the way of her voice. Who could have ever found out that the tuck of her bottom lip under her teeth, an action so simple, could fruit such lust inside you?
“Of course you’re being good, Nana. Only good girls get bred.”
They don’t get what you mean until you pull out of Heejin and slip into the sister you mentioned. Nana’s back curves beautifully and she sighs as she’s filled to the point of overflow with your hot and sticky cum. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red trace of your hand on her cheek. She grinds seductively into your cock burying itself to the depths of her pussy.
“Noooo,” sobs Heejin, green with envy. “Please, gah, just let me have your cum. I promise I’ll let you cum inside me all the time. Can do it even with my dad watching, or Nana, just please—”
“Desperate little slut. Will you let my naughty big sister have what she wants, oppa?”
In one way or another, Heejin always gets what she wants. She could be the one underneath you, sure, and she’d remain the benefactor.
Such is the beauty of having her cum beautifully and instantly on your fingers after you finger out some cum from Nana’s pussy into hers.
-
Chan never does find out what the white on Heejin’s bed is from. Is it from a girl’s problem that isn’t too known? He doesn’t know. It might be glue. Whatever. He’s not that well-versed into feminine problems, so he simply assumes those are the source of them.
He also doesn’t know why the sisters suddenly don’t fight anymore. It’s a well-kept secret that you’ve made a pact with them, told them that you could be theirs as long as they kiss you and don’t tell. It works well to keep the sisters in line, and it’s beneficial for Chan, too. He doesn’t have to pacify repeated arguments anymore.
So far the peace in your new home is maintained. The bedroom is exempted.
Obviously.
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#loona smut#artms smut#jeon heejin smut#heejin smut#loona heejin smut#artms heejin smut#woo!ah! smut#woo!ah smut#woo ah smut#kwon nayeon smut#nana smut#nayeon smut#woo!ah! nana smut#woo!ah nana smut#woo ah nana smut#male reader#x reader#idol x reader#idol x male reader#reader insert#pov smut#kofimission#commission
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a collection of ideas of a post-suspendium Golden Age comics Billy Batson if he ended up in the 21st century (pick any comic continuity
EDIT: IF YOU SEE THIS POST HAVING A WEIRD/REPEATING PARAGRAPH/FORMAT, LET ME KNOW BECAUSE TUMBLR ISNT WORKING FOR MY MOBILE
1.adoption scenario
(If a leaguer wanted to adopt Billy, he’d just show them his birth certificate)
Billy smirking:” Sorry, you can’t legally adopt a grandpa”
2. Billy teasing with a smug boomer voice: “Back in my day, we used to play with atomic machines!”
3. youtube
Billy:thanks for showing me how to use a modern phone (insert friend from 21st century)! But I wonder, where is the tv remote for changing the youtube channel? And Where is the news?
(Friend from the 21st century):*sighs* it’s so over
4. Old friends
Aside from the fawcett city heroes, Billy in this case probably relates more to the older heroes like wildcat, Alan scott or Jay Garrick, maybe they have multiple team ups in the past and would reminiscent over it (the rest having their favorite drinks while Billy preferring his hot chocolate ice cream)
5. Teasing
The younger hero teams who know his identity would teasingly call him a “boomer”, Billy wanted to protest that he technically was born before boomers but they ignored it and still teased him about it.
to the rest of the heroes who didn’t know about his identity, they assume captain marvel is more than centuries old, and thinks this is the reason the kid heroes calls him a boomer.
6. Jokes
Billy: “oh so these memes are like what replaces comic strips i used to read, how nice”
Some of these ideas are taken from the fanfics i’ve written, some just came to me inside my head, but it’s fun to think about it.
(Edited: added more scenarios)
7. Caprisuns
Caprisuns werent invented yet when Billy was in suspendium. After getting out of suspendium, He really likes caprisun.
Other leaguers would be confused, Marvel's liking of caprisun is comparable to Martian Manhunter's love of oreos. When asked about when his capri sun addiction started, Marvel shrugged, "They weren't made before I was born, so it was only recent"
The league is now confused as to how old marvel is. Wonder Woman relates to this with her fascination of ice cream flavors.
8. Billy automatically put on a Mid-atlantic accent whenever he is near a microphone due to his habit and work with Whiz station for his TV segments as well as radio programs.
Whenever Captain Marvel uses a communicator, he unintentionally uses a mid-atlantic accent (this confuses the leaguers, "who is this guy!?"). Some of the leaguers enjoyed listening to his voice
Marvel would occasionally file an audio JL report (yes, with the same mid-atlantic accent) when he's on a hurry and couldn't type it out with his typewriter (he still finds it difficult to use a computer) : "And there you have it, folks! In a nutshell, I managed to handle the There was an outbreak of imps but Mary and I already took care of it, Junior apprehend the acrobat after a terible case of Moonitis, the three of us thwarted Mr. Mind's dastardly scheme to seize control of the sun, and we all prevented Sivana from being promoted to "King of Earth" by hurling his atomic bomb straight into the heart of the sun itself! That's the latest from me, This is Captain Marvel, signing off!"
Leaguer: "Why does he sound like a radio host commenting on a football game?"
Other leaguer:*shrugs*
9. Billy watches a cgi lion movie for the first time
..and thought innocently that there are other talking tigers like tawky tawny.
Some of these ideas are taken from the fanfics i’ve written, some just came to me inside my head, but it’s fun to think about it.
#shazam#captain marvel#dc comics#billy batson#Scenarios#scenario#Billy being a boomer trapped in a kid’s body- the scenario
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Reactions to Crazier Bastard's Chapter 310
Brief summary: Cale is not a gamer. Cale scams the boss of the dungeon. The dragons are still fighting... except Rasheel.
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There were already computers in Korea at the time CH was still on Earth, but it was not widespread enough to the average household, so CH was unfamiliar with gaming. CH was truly a boomer. 😂
As for Cale, KRS was not a gamer. He had played a few mobile puzzle games, but that was it. Puzzle games... so stuff like Sudoku or Match-3 games like Candy Crush? 😂 However, he was at one time a huge fan of fantasy novels with game themes, so he was familiar with gaming cliches and terms/slang. So something like SAO, Log Horizon, etc.?
Cale's group met the previous ruler of time who had now become the subordinate of Neo, the new Ruler of Time. It was a cute teddy bear dressed as a butler, with the boss name "Vicious Dark Bear. " The dungeon they entered looked childish and fluffy, with cloud-like passages and cotton candy-colored doors, but the angry bear boss and the flashing red lights made Cale think it was straight out of a horror movie.
Moving on, Cale (and Raon) scammed Dark Bear into registering them as new users. 😂 Dark Bear was only respectful to Raon and treated the others as minions. But this was Cale we're talking about. He managed to deceive Dark Bear into thinking that Raon was the next Dragon Lord that Neo appointed, and even fished out information about the game, like how "Aipotu" would be a new area added to the game after the major update, and how qualified Aipotu residents would live in that new area, using Neo's lair as the link between the two worlds.
Poor Rasheel though. While Eruhaben and the Gluttony dragon were duking it out, the other enemy dragons did not respond to Rasheel's earnest pleas provocations to fight him. 🤣🤣🤣
Ending Remarks Woah, I guess we've now entered the last parts of the Aipotu arc, given that we're now constantly getting new info about the next arc. Next chapter would be back to the battlefield. Please, someone fight our Rasheel. He was so excited to fight after so long, yet no one wants to fight him. 😂
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There is nothing wrong with a person who wears adult diapers. Those are an aid, a tool, to help that person be more mobile and preserve their dignity.
If someone has tremors in their hands and needs help picking up everyday objects, that doesn't take away from who they are as a person. There's no dishonor in muscular tremors.
If someone can't see or hear, or can only see or hear with aid of a tool, a piece of technology, that's fine! Here's a really simple one: so many of us wear glasses because our eyes can't do the thing on their own.
Having disabilities doesn't take away from who a person is. Mocking someone for needing aid to do things, however, is morally repugnant. And using ableism to put down or mock someone who themselves is morally reprehensible is still never ok.
It is important for all of us to re-examine how we, too, perform ableist acts in our daily lives. Here are some simple ones:
Stop using ableist words (check out this page: https://www.autistichoya.com/p/ableist-words-and-terms-to-avoid.html).
Stop calling disabled people "inspirational" and using them as a way to say "if they can do it then so can you" (see: paralympic commentaries from the same people who still support organizations like Autism Speaks -- https://www.themarysue.com/the-autism-speaks-controversy-explained/).
Stop mocking people for not being able to move the way you think they should move.
Stop calling bigots "crazy" (their bigotry isn't a mental illness).
Stop saying that "only disabled and immuno-compromised people are at risk from COVID-19" when what is unsaid after that is "so that's why I don't need to care about it or take any precautions."
Stop calling someone "blind" or "deaf" when they're being ignorant.
Stop making fun of someone for taking an elevator or using a motorized scooter at the store.
Eliminate the stigma of disabled people asking for accessibility by making things accessible in the first place.
When you're in a position to design things, physical or otherwise (buildings, software, apps), think about accessibility.
Actively learn from disability activists, what things are actually helpful and actually accessible. Incorporate those things into your design.
Hire and elevate to positions of leadership people with disabilities (and if your gut response is "but we hire by merit," I challenge you: are you telling me you don't think disabled folks can perform the duties of leaders in your organization? What are you saying, exactly?).
Change your organization to be supportive to disabled employees, and get rid of policies that marginalize them.
There's a whole LOT of ableism weaved in to literally everything. Even if we don't get it all in one go (and we won't), it's important to put in the work to do better.
--
Before someone comments with these:
"what's wrong with people?"
Ableism is EVERYWHERE, it is in EVERYTHING in this world and we have to actively work against it. Don't assume you're exempt. None of us are.
"who says these things?" "who does these things?"
A lot of people. A lot of people you might love. A lot of people that might include us (likely, actually). These mostly aren't monsters in alleyways saying and doing ableist things.
It's the nurse getting annoyed at the person using a wheelchair for having their wheelchair there. It's the dude at the gym who tells his friend that if those paralympians can do it, they definitely can do it. It's the person who keeps telling their friend with long covid to just do more yoga. It's the liberal angry at Trump who mocks him by saying he wears adult diapers. It's the person who builds a business branded and marketed on being kumbaya "we're so progressive" but they made their doors so heavy that they're hard for anyone to open and definitely impossible to open for a wheelchair user. It's the boomer telling a young person using a disabled parking spot that young people can't be disabled. It is literally everywhere. It's that guy telling disabled people they shouldn't be out past sunset ("we're disabled, Daniel, we're not werewolves."--Jen L Rossman).
--
Reading list, obviously not exhaustive:
https://thebodyisnotanapology.com/magazine/14-black-disabled-women-reminding-us-of-our-power/
https://thedailytexan.com/2018/03/23/stop-using-ableist-language-and-call-out-others-who-use-it
https://www.autistichoya.com/p/ableist-words-and-terms-to-avoid.html
https://www.tolerance.org/magazine/no-joking-matter-words-and-disability
https://diaryofadisabledperson.blog/
https://www.thegauntlet.news/p/disabled-peoples-exclusion-from-indoor
https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/being-grabbed-pushed-touched-without-27376323
https://www.sociability.app/blog/the-medical-vs-social-model-of-disability
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I’m gonna sound like such a boomer saying this but I miss the days before cellphones were like a requirement to exist in modern society. I hate having to be available 24/7, I hate how almost everything (even ordering food) requires an app now, I hate constantly having to be plugged in all the time.
No I can’t just opt out. Not if I want to keep my job because we have our own stupid app where the schedule is posted that you have to check multiple times a day. If my boss needs someone to cover a shift and it’s my day off I’ll still get chewed out for not answering. And what excuse can I give for not answering the text immediately? Even if I really did miss it because I was asleep I’ll get shit because my boss will tell me I shouldn’t have had my phone on do not disturb. How else am I supposed to fuckin sleep? I get notifications from apps every time an email comes in regardless of if it spam or not, how am I supposed to sleep through that shit? It’s like I don’t get to be fucking human anymore.
I can’t even do my laundry at my apartment complex because there’s no other way to pay the machines but through the app. If I need to catch my bus but my phone dies I’m fucked because you have to pay through the mobile app and they don’t accept cash. I have to use an app to order at a lot of the restaurants around here even if I dine in! Ugggh!
I wish more than anything I could go back to 2009 or some shit when I was still in high school and cell phones still existed if you needed them but you could still get by without one. I don’t want any part in what is quickly becoming a cyberpunk dystopia thank you
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I'm always flabbergasted by boomers who like to med shame by being like "oh, wow, you're on so many pills and you're so young" like okay and??? You think a handful of pills daily is worse compared to the 24/7 migraines and chronic sleep problems??? This shit has restored my youth to me. I am doing things that child me couldn't have done. I WROTE 50K IN A NOVEL AND I'VE GOT ANOTHER SERIES PLANNED THAT'S AT 10K WORDS AND I STARTED LAST FUCKING WEEK.
Not everything with my illnesses is 100% gone with meds but Gods do you know how fucking amazing I feel compared to the last 23 fucking years OF MY LIFE???
You mean I can get a normal amount of sleep like everyone else and not feel like i'm surviving off a two hour nap and a corndog??? You mean I can socialize and have fun and shit without feeling like my brain is on fire??? You mean I can be more active and accommodate my other disabilities easier??? AND IT'S JUST AT THE COST OF TWO TINY FUCKING PILLS EVERY NIGHT??? (There's more with supplements due to me still healing from celiac disease but my point still stands). I really feel like I'm getting the better end of the deal here. One of the side effects is literally a huge fucking benefit for me so the only actual negative side effect I get is dry mouth and meanwhile I get my energy, peace, and existence back? And you're telling me that taking that medicine is a BAD THING???
If you are still wary about getting aids and accommodations to help you (hell *I* still am), then remember that a mobility aid or a medication or an accommodation is to help YOU. It's not to make abled people feel comfortable. It's for YOU. YOU deserve to feel comfortable. YOU deserve to have a good life. YOU deserve to enjoy life and anyone who says you shouldn't because it looks weird can take huge fucking log and shove it right up their ass.
#disability#disability positivity#happy disability pride month#disability pride#chiari malformation#migraines#vestibular migraines#actually disabled
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Yay - I get to share my love for tidbit Hazbin lore while sharing knowledge that makes me look like a millennial boomer XD Ahem... Alastor, our favorite overlord, for all intents and purposes, is a fucking elemental. His abilities are absolutely terrifying from a scientific standpoint. Okay, so remember how during the "Stayed Gone" number, Vox starts glitching out and "loses his signal" - then the Pride ring subsequently has a blackout? That is entirely Alastor's (or whatever-the-fuck-is-benefactoring-him's) doing. A powerful enough radio signal can do that. No horseshoe magnet required. IRL real shiz. Despite being digital enough to render a bluescreen while compromised, Vox might still have older hardware from his former days as a rabbit-eared, extra-thick thick cathode-ray tube.
And Alastor is our radio demon. Keep this in mind. IRL, once upon a time during the 1940s - before digital television - there was no "Channel 1". That's because in the US, a very long time ago, both radio and TV shared the band that we call "Channel One":
"Until 1948, Land Mobile Radio and television broadcasters shared the same frequencies, which caused interference. This shared allocation was eventually found to be unworkable, so the FCC reallocated the Channel 1 frequencies for public safety and land mobile use and assigned TV channels 2–13 exclusively to broadcasters. Aside from the shared frequency issue, this part of the VHF band was (and to some extent still is) prone to higher levels of radio-frequency interference (RFI) than even Channel 2 (System M)." (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Channel_1_(North_American_TV))
Then for a short stint, Channel One was exclusively reserved for radio:
Channel 1 was allocated at 44–50 MHz between 1937 and 1940. Visual and aural carrier frequencies within the channel fluctuated with changes in overall TV broadcast standards prior to the establishment of permanent standards by the National Television Systems Committee. In 1940, the FCC reassigned 42–50 MHz to the FM broadcast band. Television's channel 1 frequency range was moved to 50–56 MHz. Experimental television stations in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles were affected. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Channel_1_(North_American_TV))
Every local TV channel and radio station has a frequency range on the electromagnetic spectrum. For those who still listen to radio on non-internet-reliant radios devices, those funny little numbers next to a station's name are a ballpark number for the frequency the station broadcasts in the Hertz unit. A Hertz (Hz) is one wave per second. A KiloHertz (KHz) is 1,000 waves per second. A GigaHertz (GHz) is 1 billion waves per second. Modern AM radio stations are 535-1605 kHz Modern FM radio stations are 88-108 MHz TV VHF Channels 2 thru 13 are 54-216 MHz TV UHF Channels 14 thru 36 are 470-608 MHz And no, that's not a discrepancy between VHF and FM radio: the frequencies designated for FM radio are nestled right in there with TV ones - between Channels 6 and 7.
(chart from http://hyperphysics.phy-astr.gsu.edu/hbase/Audio/radio.html) Even today, radio and TV are slightly shuffled in there in regards to designated frequencies. This implies that depending on Alastor's band of preference, if Vox still has some of his older hardware, Vox could, in his sleep, theoretically be able to hear Alastor's broadcasts of screaming victims without a physical radio nearby. IRL in fact, in older televisions where a knob is used to change channels, much of the static you'd hear in-between channels is actually background radiation from deep space - along with any radio interference from man-made sources nearby. No wonder Vox is obsessed with Alastor. Alastor can torment him in an in-between realm-channel daily, like Freddy Kruger.
Yet, if radio signals were only a Vox problem, why did nearly every light and electronic device go out in the Pride except the emergency lights at the Heaven embassy?
It might depend on how we define the word "radio". Is it radio, as in "those radio stations we can listen to without the internet"? Maybe radio, as in "any frequency utilized in modern communications, including TV and Radio"? Or is it radio, as in "almost any signal on the electromagnetic spectrum with a frequency lower than friggin' heat?" People, below is an IRL over-simplified chart of the electromagnetic spectrum and its usages by human.
When radio is defined as a specific part of the electromagnetic spectrum, it is basically any frequency below infrared. *** Cellphone service and WiFi use radio signals within this range. Most cellular services are between 600 MHz and 39 GHz WiFi routers are about 2.4-5 GHz (6 GHz in newer models) That's where the "G" in "4G" and "5G" come from - the "G" stands for "Gigahertz" Radio, local television, cellphone service, WiFi, and basically any point in the internet that isn't linked by a landline - these are all safely within the part of the electromagnetic spectrum that the scientists would call "radio". If Hell's technology is supposed to mirror the real world, then most electronic devices need radio frequencies in order to communicate. The VVV's empire is truly fucked, should Alastor so choose. The only plot hole in this explanation I see is why all the lights went out. These devices don't run on radio - they communicate using it. My best-educated guess is that the on/off switch for Hell's power grid is on an open network and at least part of it wireless. Or maybe Alastor's radio attack works like a general EMP and he can just break stuff by "brute force". (I am not an expert on these sorts of things like telecommunication... or network security... or physics.... I politely ask that someone in the comments, please enlighten me U.U ) ------------------------------------- Also, notice that Alastor's Tower, Cannibal Town and the Heaven Embassy were the only regions with lights on during the blackout.
is that...?
Cannibal Town?
If this is, in fact, Cannibal Town, then my only guess is that the Cannibals are so hipster, many of them only light their homes and businesses with candlelight and leviathan whale oil. Neither candlelight nor oil-burning rely on wifi. Only some of their region's light was lost in the blackout. They might use some electricity (as many during the Victorian era did, which Cannibal Town seems to be inspired by), but they don't fully rely upon electricity. This suggests that Alastors friendship with Rosie might be less of an organic friendship and more like a strategically slick alliance. Rosie's territory is one part of Pride that Alastor can't completely shut down (other than the Embassy). But, who knows?
Alastor's derision of modern tech now seems to have more merit than just being "hipster", or avoiding leaving a digital footprint that Vox can manipulate, (the latter of which I once head-canoned before this epiphany). Alastor can literally just shut most of Hell's tech down. This might also suggest why Alastor is homies with Zestial - another known old-timey prick.
Alastor makes alliances with demons he can't easily overpower with his abilities. This might seem self-contradictory to Alastor's seeming over-confidence in teasing Lucifer - until you realize he did this only after he learned angels could be killed during the Overlords' meeting. (And yes, I know what I wrote about Alastor a couple of tumbl notes back with the "popsicle" evaluation. I do not consider flip-flopping a moral issue if done so by epiphany. That note stays, because it's funny XD ) ----------------------- Another theory! Ok, so this theory isn't entirely my own-own, I'm just building off of it based on what I've just said (mostly Roo stuff). So IRL, scientists decided to take an image of the observable universe in the microwave range. Microwave energy is in the upper ends of radio, but just below infrared in frequency. What they found was cosmic background radiation - a lot of energy that isn't coming from the stars themselves.
(Image source: https://www.space.com/33892-cosmic-microwave-background.html) Some scientists theorize this is because this particular energy is left over from the formation of the universe. So about Roo:
In the first non-pilot episode, The Story of Hell, as read by Charlie, states that the angels of pure light "worshipped good and shielded all from evil." During this line, imagery of two faces are shown before the angels: one face of light and another face of twisted red and black.
Subsequent lines and imagery in the episode suggest that this "evil" existed before Lucifer fell or Eve allowed this evil to enter the world - even before the Earth was created. Some Tumblrs who have been in this fandom longer than I have may know of Roo, a character that appears in some of VivziePop's older works within the Hazbin/Hellaverse. Some of Roo's monikers include "The Root of All Evil" and the "Tree of Knowledge". I'm wondering if in the Hellaverse, the cosmic background radiation of the universe is a manifestation of Roo when she isn't bound to a tree. Could Alastor's radio powers come Roo, the background "dark" energy of the universe's birth? Did Alastor bite the apple the second third time for mankind? XD
------------------------------------------------- While researching for this paper, I learned that microwave ovens and 2G cell phones operate within the same frequencies at around 2 GHz. Apparently, the only reason cell phones don't cook our brains is because the wattage is too low. (I dunno what wattage means. I'm not a scientist.) But now, Alastors singing lines in S1E8 had me thinking: "The constraints of my deal surely have a back door Once I figure out how to unclip my wings, guess who will be pulling all the strings" Knowing what Alastor is capable of with radio, this has me wondering if Alastor's radio powers are coming from one source, all while be is being chained by another entity entirely. Someone might have gone out of their way to get Alastor into a contract - if only to keep him from literally baking the universe for his viewing pleasure... on a rotating glass plate.
Being able to cook a soul in microwaves would require that they be at least partially made of water, however. Buuuut... I guess if there are working ACs in Hell, I really shouldn't read too much into it XD -------------
Do you think the mad scientists from Helluva Boss, Lyle Lipton and Loopty Goopty, ever chat over coffee about the abilities of the overlords based on casual observation?
One day, Alastor's name comes up... ...and after four minutes of discussing facts over coffee, they're both just like "Nope"?
XD {END} *** Note: Googling "Electromagnetic Spectrum charts" will yield different results. Some charts will have different designations frequencies lower than radio, like Extremely Low Frequencies (ELF). I do not know whether this difference is a reflection of a newer categorization, or if most charts online are made for laymen such as myself. Most charts I saw years ago only designated "radio" as "everything below microwave". I want to assume that the "only radio below microwave" categorization went into the writer's designing of Alastor's character simply because such charts are more common (while also making for a more interesting power scaling).
______________ Disclaimer: I am composed of chauffeur knowledge. I know nearly nothing about communication science little about radiation stuff. I took an astronomy elective in college once, so I sorta knew where to look when it came to frequency stuff. I have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about. I know that I confused frequency and wavelength somewhere. Please, #sciencesideoftumblr feel free to correct me. ----------------- TLDR: Most tech IRL uses radio waves to communicate. That Includes TVs, WiFi and cell phones. Alastor can make the Pride Ring go kaploowee if he looks at it funny. I don't know what he's cooking.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel theory#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel vvv#hazbin hotel vees#science#science side of tumblr#please help me#i'm absolutly sure i mixed up frequency and wavelength somewhere#I'm not a communications expert#i flunked chemistry in high school and i can't write my name in cursive#chauffeur knowledge#hazbin hotel rosie#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel zestial#hazbin hotel roo#sciencesideoftumblr#science side help me#radio#electromagnetic waves
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re: last reblog - saw a TikTok ad the other day of a zoomer lifestyle peddler visually coded as a Nonbinary Dirtbag Leftist (dyed ratty hair, conspicuous piercings, cheap punk clothing) attempting to sell me an ebook about how to elevate my class position by buying a turnkey business like a laundromat.
so, exploiting the poor. and I mean they aren't wrong, that's how you get class mobile. I don't think it's actually possible to run a business like that ethically and still make a profit. maybe I'm wrong. but it seems like every bit of the profit is extracted from a dependence upon the poverty of the clientele, eg, lack of access to home laundry, charging greater than cost for time, water, soap and cleanliness which are all human rights, hiring employees at minimum wage, etc. the entire basis of charging money for such an amenity is a process of creating waste also, it creates waste in travel from home to the Laundromat, it creates waste in putting a laundromat in a storefront where housing could be, it creates waste in handling money and bills for a business that isnt essential etc etc. and it's an economic coercion because clean clothes aren't something you can budget or cut down on, you basically have your clientele by the balls.
on the other hand I'm rapidly approaching a grinding surface in terms of either entering into one of these exploitative processes as a means-of-production owner, which would be accomplished purely through debt on my part, or having to withdraw to permanent poverty, and the third option is winning the lottery either literally or figuratively through an unforeseen inheritance, sudden recovery from illness, or getting popular on social media in a way that produces profit
I think the anarcho syndicalists are broadly correct in that small organization is the correct move, eg, I'm about to lead test my apartment water supply and do some other moves that I expect to use to lower my rent, but the bigger project would be to contact the other tenants and see if they'd be interested in essential a "hostile" acquisition of the building based on having it fail a bunch of inspections, which I absolutely think is possible.
I could see using a small syndicate of partners/friends to collectively purchase the laundromat as a co-op. but would the profit splitting make it not worthwhile? maybe we would recoup from not having to hire any employees and just taking the shifts ourselves. this is the classic American immigrant model and it's a classic for a reason. I would really hate trying to do all that horizontal organizing though (huge cost for me personally)
idk how any of those stuff works. my parents are from the managerial-intellegentsia officer class and are stupid about money from a weird combination of having too much of it and too little. the overeducated poor. food insecure people who get all the jokes on Frasier. extraordinarily weird class position, it's sort of like being in the circus or being a pickpocket. you can fool people into thinking you're wealthy when you aren't, which is why I'm so insane on here about grammar and spelling, because you don't know until you're actually on the other side of it how much your level of education affects your material existence, even if the education is DIY. I have been literally homeless for periods of time and have almost always been poor, and the amount of "skating by" you can do on good grammar and nice table manners is like a big secret no one tells you anymore because the boomers pretended they got rid of all that jive during the summer of love. people have gotten REALLY mad at me on here about this topic I think because they think I'm enforcing these cultural standards every time I try to teach people about them. I'm trying to warn you!!
think of it this way: how long is someone willing to let you stay in their coffee shop or diner or house if you're "acting poor", vs how long if you're charming and helpful and conscientious? if you're loud and using "low class" dialect vs if someone has at some point taught you to act fancy? this is extremely racialized obviously. I can't speak on that.
the communist coin op laundry could have a shuttle service and group wash nights where people can combine laundry to use the big washers and dryers for larger loads at lower total cost if they were willing to sort out their clothes at the end 😔
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Pet whump society headcanons
CW: Dehumanization, systemic pet whump, ableism (mention of “changelings”), allusion to apartheid with “pet only” facilities, ageism and allusion to putting pets down, yeah it gets pretty dark
How are pets dressed?
Pets would have a specific vibe of clothing or hairstyle, so it would be easy to pick them out of a crowd or sense they don’t belong. I’m thinking “fun” haircuts like wolf cut, mohawk, elaborate braids and buns. Or hairstyles that are very easy to maintain, shaved or effortlessly short and messy.
Clothing would be an overcommitment to a certain aesthetic, depending on the owner’s tastes. Usually bold and gaudy, or an uncomfortable style made to show off the pet’s best qualities.
The punk crowd could keep wearing these too, to show solidarity against pet ownership. And boomers get angry at the youths for dressing like pets just because it’s “trendy”.
That may also cause clashes with the cops or pet control departments, if they keep stopping people who “look like” pets.
Do pets have to crawl?
I mentioned in my story about Honey that only rich assholes with too much time on their hands make their pets “trot” on hands and knees everywhere they go. While it’s wrong to make your pet walk upright for too long (can be dangerous and exhausting), it’s not a good idea for them to trot outside or in most public places, as the ground is dangerous and unsanitary. Most of the time it’s acceptable for them to walk. That is, unless they’re inside a house, in which case it’s up to the house owner to determine.
Sort of like “a no-shoes household” —not everybody cares, but it’s generally polite and acceptable for pets to trot then, even if they wouldn’t normally. Sometimes the same holds true for working/service pets, made to trot within an office or classroom, whereas they would stand and walk around the rest of the facility with their owner.
They’ll generally sit or kneel on the ground when not moving, whether in public (on a train, at a restaurant, in a library) or in private. Many public places have designated plastic or rubber pads for pets to sit on, next to human seats and below tables.
Do pets use their hands?
I also made a note that while pets are still considered to have “hands” and not generally prevented from using them (not bound into paws or anything), it’s generally frowned upon and considered bad training if a pet uses it’s hands. This is because pets are silly little creatures who don’t know their own strength, and tend to hurt themselves or others if allowed the same mobility a human has. They’re basically allowed to use them as a primate might, holding food (not utensils) and drinking from them, moving a pillow or playing with a toy. But they shouldn’t be opening doors or doing more complex things like using tools (drawing/writing implements, hairbrush/toothbrush etc).
How long have pets been around?
Pet theory has been around for hundreds of years, but emerged as an evidence-based sociological/governmental designation comparatively recently. Pets have been scientifically classed and evaluated for since the late 1800s, although for many years after, only the upper class was able to afford evaluations for their family and peers. The caretaking of pets was seen as both luxury and philanthropy. While some families were shocked to learn that theirs included pets, many understood the necessity of revealing pets through scientific inquiry, as research would later show the rapid quality of life increase for pets who no longer have to play “changeling” and were treated appropriately with medication and training. It became common for rich families to evaluate prospective matches and employees for pet classification, and they often adopted those who were discovered, a generous act lauded by many pet conservationists. Nowadays pets are more commonly found and more affordably adopted, as testing procedures have simplified and become mandatory for most jobs and some cultural events, such as acquiring a marriage license or passport.
Do pets speak?
Pets are trained to rely on their caretaker to provide, and to not focus on their confusing pet thoughts. It isn’t good for a pet to engage in prolonged communication, so giving a pet small commands is most appropriate. Pets should be encouraged to reply with expressions, actions, or humming vocalizations. Some owners choose to correct their pet’s unnecessary vocalizations by trimming the hyoid bone, docking (shortening) the tongue, or (for the wealthier owners) undergoing a procedure in which a selective aphasia is triggered in the pet’s brain, keeping their comprehension in tact but limiting output ability.
Pet peeve question: pet hygiene?
Well trained pets can use the same restroom facilities as humans do. Because they’re not so dexterous with their hands, bidets are a universal commodity (lol idk - guys I really don’t want to make any pet owners rely on diapers or soemthing eugh)
It’s recommended that owners alternate sponge bathing and fully bathing their pets, checking their hygiene daily. They should also consistently brush their pet’s teeth and/or give them brushing toys to gnaw on.
It’s recommended that pets visit a care center for checkup every three months once fully trained, to ensure both physical and emotional well-being.
Pets in training should return to their home facility at least twice a week to get proper care.
Are there any older pets?
As pets age their appearance and mobility can suffer, as well as their emotional and mental well-being. While pet research is advancing and always finding new solutions to prolong the wellbeing of a pet, current projections note that a pet’s lifespan is generally between 25 and 35 years, depending on the age of pet status acknowledgement. If pets are found at a later age and do not receive proper care in time, they will generally suffer complications and resist training, requiring end of life care earlier than a well-trained and stable pet.
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So… I wrote a fight scene?
Takes place in the “sequel to Mario rpg were you go to weapon world” au/idea thing (originally by @missd476)
It’s kind of long so under the cut. Not long enough for me to bother to post on Ao3 I don’t think
Not too soon after entering weapon world, Mallow and geno face off against Bowyer and Mack in Boomer’s dojo. The heroes had some reservations, considering the state their opponents seemed to be in, but the weapons were out for blood and would not take no for an answer. (Mallow studied Bowyer, whose eyes were covered by… tape? and was missing his bowstring. “Not to be rude but can you like, see? Or fight at all?” “Perfectly well, I know where you stand, Nya! And strike you down where you stand I will!”)
Boomer insisted that this be a FAIR fight with actual turns, instead of a free-for-all. One of Boomer’s apprentices unpacked a gong from one of the crumbly boxes (even in weapon world, every dojo has one of those lying around). Everyone took their places, and soon it was dead silent.
The very instant the gong was hit, Bowyer sprang- mowing down Geno before he had a chance to charge his gun. He quickly pivoted direction and returned to his original position.
Geno found himself on the ground. How had the weapon done that so quickly? He hadn’t even had time to register the sound himself. Was it possible… he could have picked up on the air moving as the mallet approached the gong?
Mallow gathered electricity, remembering how it had been effective on the weapons they’d seen so far, and launched it at Bowyer. To his surprise, the bow seemed to absorb the attack.
“Nya ha! Free energy!” He cheered, sparks running along his arms.
Mallow remembered “Oh wait, doesn’t he use electric attacks? Well, not doing THAT again.” He flicked his eyes over to Geno, hoping he hadn’t noticed his mistake.
Mack proceeded to waste his turn doing knife tricks, “Hah! At this rate we have it in the bag! Show em’ Bowyer!”
Bowyer charged at Mallow, and this time Geno paid close attention. How did he know where to go? Surely he couldn’t hear over his own clattering movement, not to mention the general chaos of a battle. Unless it was… how Mack stared intently at Mallow, turning his head to follow Bowyer as he returned. That had to be it.
“Mallow!” He called as his friend got up off the floor, “Try to get some clouds in here?”
“What? Okay sure!”
A round full of bullets, fireballs and static electricity passed. Upon Mallow’s turn arriving, he let out a huge wave of fog from his body, obscuring most of the dojo. The response was immediate. “NYAAA!” A screech from Bowyer. “Don’t panic yet I got this!” from a clearly panicking Mack. “Hey! This is cheating!” from one of the apprentices. All pretense of taking turns went out the window as attacks began to fly.
Bowyer was apparently not content to wait, and charged at Mallow again. A loud and frequent clicking could be heard as he got closer. Was it really this easy? Mallow didn’t even need to mind-read to know this was some kind of echolocation. He took out his cymbals and slammed them just as the bow reached him. As he suspected, bowyer was throughly disoriented.
Meanwhile, Mack and Geno were fighting each other. Flames bled light through the fog as Geno focused on dodging them. He was discovering that without the huge sword as a mount, Mack was not very mobile, preferring to stand his ground and turn to face an attacker. This was easily used to his disadvantage.
Once the fog lifted, both weapons looked significantly worse for wear.
“Are you giving up yet?” Mallow asked.
“No!” “Nyat yet!” The weapons shouted back at him, “It’s time to get serious!”
Almost in an instant, the two stacked on top of each other. Mack rode Bowyer as he charged, like a jousting horse and knight. One as the sight, one as the agility, and their combined elemental powers… it was apparent why these two stayed together. It was time for the real battle.
Still nobody was taking turns. One of the apprentices pointed this out to Boomer, who wasn’t about to step in and do anything about it. “We will just have to let it happen.” He sighed.
Geno had taken several fireballs as mallow prepared… something. He just hoped whatever it was could end the fight before he got torched. And then he felt it.
The apprentices panicked first “RAIN! Rain in the dojo!” They cried, taking cover under a table. Boomer took down the painting behind him and held it over his head. The Bowyer/Mack combo skidded into a wall.
“What was thaaattttt?!”
“Closed your eyes you did!!”
Mack squinted back at him, “I can’t get water in here, my fire will go out!”
In the seconds they spent bickering, mallow and Geno had surrounded them.
“Turn that S$&* off! I don’t wanna rust!”
By the tone of Mack’s voice, Bowyer knew he was done fighting. And if he tried to take them on alone, that cloud guy could use those horrible reverberating things and mess him up.
“Surrender we do, nya!”
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How "Beetlejuice" might have been..
The very first Beetlejuice scripts were seriously weird. Michael McDowell's early June 1985 screenplay was vastly different from the final movie.
For those who've never heard of it, or read it, here are some excerpts.
Important to keep in mind is this screenplay is written for a 80s mindset. This is when giant swathes of the countryside were being plowed under for McMansions and new suburbs, and the New York City Art Scene and clubs were all the rage. So was Wall Street and getting rich. Anyone remember the movie Wall Street and "Greed is good?" How about Yuppies? (Young Urban Professionals or Young Upwardly Mobile Professionals, basically Boomers who were hippies in the 70s who threw off their non-conformist, anti-Capitalistic ways for high-paying White Collar careers in order to own a McMansion with a gazebo in the back yard and a new car called an SUV in their 3-car garage. It was a dark time, kids.)
The Maitlands and Winter River represented the New England Country style that was also popular -- B & Bs and Laura Ashley were hot -- and the Deetzes were the NYC Soho Yuppies come to buy up land and build multi-house developments, who in this script are also guilty of tax evasion.
From an early draft:
Yes, Lydia has a sweet, innocent little sister.
This is the original description of Beetle Juice, as he was then called.
Lydia's mom, Charles' first wife, is alive and well and named Evelyn.
Lydia is not the one we know.
Beetlejuice Juice, aka Danny Death, seduces Lydia.
argh. It continues . . . .
If antis think the original movie is problematic, in this screenplay Beetle Juice tries to rape Lydia.
It's Cathy who defeats Beetle Juice.
After everything is set right, here's what happens to Lydia.
Dear god.
From a later but still early script, it changed to Cathy finding Beetle Juice at the whorehouse in the model. He tells her to look at him with a magnifying glass. When she does, he flashes her. He declares he's "anatomically correct." Obviously in this screenplay his dick isn't a small demon.
You can read the entire McDowell 1985 screenplay here.
Thank god Tim Burton didn't stick with this version.
#Beetlejuice#Beetlejuice 1988#Tim Burton#Beetlejuice script#Beetlejuice screenplay#Beetlejuice storyboard#Michael McDowell
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Accessible doesn't mean "for lazy people".
I can't express how frustrating it is that, so many times on so many platforms I've seen various posts, especially videos, which showcase an item that makes a random task easier (or possible at all) to do (such as onion/garlic dicers of all sorts, or items that can be used with one hand, or even the tools that make it easier to put socks on), and every time the comments section is filled with angry boomers (mostly boomers), who don't see past the concept of "if only people stopped being lazy" or "this is useless, we already have [less accessible tool/item], who needs this?!".
Just because something isn't needed/useful to you, doesn't mean somebody else doesn't benefit from the accessibility (or even just the convenience itself).
To give a few examples of what I mean:
The sock tools can help a lot of people with mobility limitations, and that can also include anybody going through pregnancy as well, to put on socks AT ALL. You don't even "need to be disabled" to benefit from stuff like this, ffs.
Onion/garlic dicers make it possible to quickly cut up food items that otherwise may be difficult (or even impossible) for people with certain disabilities or other difficulties (I've always found it a bit hard to dice/cut certain food items (ESPECIALLY smaller ones), so tools like this are very helpful and achieve a consistent result).
Noise-cancelling headphones help me, by blocking out the noise of traffic, which is very overwhelming to me, not just because I experience sensory overloads, but because I have tinnitus and extremely loud noises are very overwhelming to me. Regular headphones don't accomplish the same thing for me, not to the level my noise-cancelling ones do anyway, and I can still listen to music along the way (my headphones also have a mode that allow for me to still hear peoples' voices relatively well, whilst muffling traffic, engine noises, etc.).
I wear a backpack instead of using a pretty shoulder bag for carrying heavier items, because one of my shoulders is slightly deformed since birth, and because both my shoulders get some of the worst of my joint pain (whenever it does happen, which is often enough), whereas the backpack I have, is nicely padded and easy to organize too. I've seen people online mock adults using backpacks, I still don't understand why though??? I didn't even know people made fun of adults who use backpacks. I still want to hope those weren't meant to be real takes...
I may not look like I "need one", but I do sometimes use a cane to help myself move up/down stairs especially, since I have issues with joint pain, and especially since my foot injury from earlier this year (the pain of which still pops up now and then, and it's not great). People look at me weird when I randomly take out my foldable cane and then put it away after a while. My joint pain comes and goes, and when I don't need my cane, I don't use it. My own father keeps commenting on how I'm "too young to be using a cane". I'm 28, I've been using it for a handful of years now, disability doesn't know age.
Let me repeat myself. DISABILITY DOES NOT KNOW AGE.
Just because you might not use a wheelchair-accessible ramp, doesn't mean it's not needed/useful for anybody without a wheelchair. Even people with bicycles/scooters/baby strollers etc. can benefit from them, and for me, it's easier to walk up the ramps rather than using stairs, as using stairs tends to put additional stress on my already-injured foot, whereas a ramp doesn't require me to put that stress on my foot, so walking is easier for me, even if it is just those 'few handfuls of steps" or whatever.
In a separate post, I touched upon the kind of ableism I've witnessed in certain crafting communities, and how gatekeeping can very quickly become synonymous with ableism, and how that can affect something like a hobby. Everything I said there, applies to this post, too. If you're interested, feel free to read. If not - it's much of what I said here, but specifically regarding crafting communities and how ignorant/ableist people can be at times, and how that can affect people.
So many tools exist to help with certain tasks, to make some stuff doable at all, to add accessibility to an otherwise difficult task for any particular person, and so much of it is just seen as "useless" or "for the lazy people", or there's some aspect of aggressive gatekeeping fueled with "if you don't do it THIS way only, then you're not doing it at all/it's not valid enough" attitudes. If anything, people with disabilities often have to put in EXTRA effort to do what able-bodied people can do effortlessly, even WITH the extra accessibility whenever it IS available (and by available I also mean affordable, because not everything IS, and not all options are available for everybody; price/cost accessibility is something many people don't even consider in some cases!!!). Not all of it is because of difficulty, necessarily, but it's a fact of reality.
Accessibility isn't laziness. For the able-bodied, it can be convenience. For the disabled, it's a matter of getting that extra helpful boost, or the ability to do a task at all, without having to find somebody to do it for you (if that's even an option to begin with).
I know I really can't speak for most groups directly, nor can I relay the experience of every kind of disability besides my own experiences over the years, but I'm genuinely troubled by the "trend" of people STILL (even increasingly) dismissing accessibility tools, disabled people themselves, and anything that makes it easier to do something, to function, especially since there's absolutely nothing that could ever excuse such awful behavior towards people who deal with enough shit as is.
I don't just think of myself when I bring up accessibility and its benefits.
Because the fact of the matter is - even those who have no disabilities could benefit from the accessibility options for those that do, even if it is simply a convenience for most. It takes effort to make something inaccessible, and it would take so little to make a big difference even for some.
And on that note.
It's not laziness. It never was.
#ableism#disability#accessibility#i know this post doesn't cover a lot of stuff#but it's mostly to highlight a bigger issue that exists#it's 2024 and disabled people STILL have to fucking prove how disabled they are#to be taken even a little more seriously in the first place#and so many disabilities aren't even seen as “real disabilities” by some#because you “can't see them” or “you're not disabled if you're not wheelchair-bound forever”#or “if you dress in anything but rags then are you ACTUALLY disabled”#i hope i didn't misspell anything... i re-read it a couple times but even so I sometimes miss things#dyslexia does make it hard to make posts this long but I feel like these discussions HAVE to happen at some point#I hope more people can share their experiences too#I'd be glad to learn about challenges I haven't brought up that are faced by people with disabilities that I myself don't have#Every disability is different so everybody faces different challenges#And my experiences may not be universal but I did try to express how I deal with some of my struggles with the options available to me
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you have one (1) new message!
s62 (+ kakucho) texting/messaging HCs
Rindou: The “whats up” guy
Fair emoji use, texting abbreviations, and slang. Can’t care less about proper capitalization or spelling words correctly unless he really wants you to leave him alone. He can be a bit dry as a texter because he prefers to tell you stuff in calls or in person. Usually takes hours or even days to reply unless you’re special to him (you only need to wait minutes if so). Being an extrovert, I think many people messaging him so sometimes your messages might get buried under everyone else’s, and he’s usually too lazy to check everything.
Ran: The “Good morning. How are you?” guy
He wants to sound formal and intelligent over text, so he’s got complete sentences, good grammar, proper punctuation and capitalization even if you’re close. Rare emoji use, and if he uses one it’s only the basic smiley/sad faces because he’s too lazy to check out the other emojis outside that. Would likezone you on Messenger or send you those sparkly gifs and it doesn’t mean anything! He’s just kind of a boomer. Leaves you on read often but that also doesn’t mean anything because he might have a) fallen asleep, b) started zoning out, c) just forgot to reply.
Shion: The "WHAT" guy
WACKY. Lots of emojis (his favorites are the fire, 100, and devil emojis), abuses Caps Lock, may spam you when excited. Sometimes, you might wake up to 35+ new messages from him, a lot of them different variations of “[NAME] WAKE UP BRO CHECK THIS OUT 🔥🔥🔥” (and it’s just a screenshot of a scammy “Congratulations you won a new iPhone!!” message from a free movie website. He already put his details in.) Reply speed is FAST unless he's in a fight or meeting. Laughs at the memes you send like 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA' because he doesn’t believe in lol or lmao or rofl. He’s quite fun to talk to because his reactions are so enthusiastic and extra.
Izana: The “yes? 🤯” guy
Heavy emoji user. Uses emojis that sometimes mismatch the tone of his message so he can be confusing to talk to. It’s just one of his quirks though. You’ll know immediately if he likes or dislikes you because if he doesn’t like you, he just sends something like “shut the fuck up 😄”. Doesn’t abbreviate too much, but adheres to proper punctuation and types complete sentences. The type of person to respond to you with pictures instead of typing. (Like, if you ask “Where are you?” he sends you a close-up of his face and just above it you can see the sign of the restaurant he’s about to enter). Likes to send memes and reaction pics as well. Reply speed is quite slow but doesn't exceed a day.
Kakucho: The "hello :)" guy
Refuses to use emojis, prefers to just type out his smileys/sad faces. No caps. Abbreviates a lot of words but still uses proper punctuation because he doesn’t want to sound monotone. His texting is quite informal but still very much polite unless you’re close friends (he’ll be less polite then). He apologizes if he took too long to reply to you, which happens every time because Kaku isn’t on his phone much. If it’s really urgent, you’re better off calling him. If you send him a meme, he might not get it because he’s also not much of an internet person (unless you sent something that’s universally funny, to which he’ll reply “haha :D”).
Mocchi: The "sup" guy
It’s really much better and easier to talk to him in person or just call. This guy’s phone is almost always dead. He plays lots of mobile games and spends so much time on YouTube, then forgets to charge his phone. When he does reply, he sounds so lazy: 1-3 words and little-to-no-effort in continuing the conversation at all. You see abbreviated words and no emojis, punctuations and caps. This is not because he doesn’t like you, but it’s because he prefers to talk to people face-to-face.
Mucho: The plain "Hi" guy
Sounds way too serious in text. He’s not one for perfect grammar and punctuations in text, but you still feel his seriousness. Another slow replyer—barely on his phone because he actually touches grass. He prefers to talk through call, but when you do call, make sure it’s really important or you’d hear a deep sigh on the other end before he says goodbye and hangs up. Would likezone you just like Ran because these two are boomers deep down. Leaves people on read if he thinks the message is not worth replying to.
#tenjikubaby#rindou haitani#ran haitani#shion madarame#izana kurokawa#kakucho#kanji mochizuki#yasuhiro muto#tokyo revengers headcanons
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