#but actually. hm. YIKES

[cypresstrees]

i’m in the soup and no mistake

[lonepower]

the wild excitement > intense disappointment > cautious acceptance pipeline gave me whiplash

[shinraelectricpowercom]

Current Events in Silm fandom rlly reinforce my feeling that, despite claiming an ethos of acceptance/tolerance of anything that doesn't hurt ppl, a lot of ppl in the section of Silm fandom I frequent do follow a set of socially-agreed-upon mores about what concepts are "not acceptable" to discuss or propose (or the ways in which certain topics must be discussed to be acceptable), that you all seem to have agreed on despite the things those mores restrict not being harmful to anyone.

And when someone does say smth that violates those mores, the response is disproportionate to the amount of harm done (which is typically none, imo). I know it's tempting to say "but we just want people to be comfortable and safe", but treating ppl badly for the sin of sharing thoughts you dislike is NOT the same as preventing people from doing things that are harmful. The former is much more of a harmful behavior than the sharing of the thoughts that sets it off. Fannish etiquette, people: you shouldn’t act like someone’s meta makes them morally suspect just because you disagree with it; save the “this is morally bad” for things that are ACTUALLY harmful. We're all stuck on this website together & if you want to have any sort of community, you need to ACT like you're in a community, and that means letting other people say things you dislike. Block them if you need to! I block people all the time because i know it's better for me AND for them if we can both blog in peace.

I am not particularly comfortable with the young-queer-on-tumblr silm fandom rn due to this tendency to rebuke things that are uncomfortable rather than harmful. Maybe that's fine with you. But if your goal is to make all fans feel comfortable and accepted, you need to actually do that. If your goal is to make people who share your unwritten rules comfortable in your space, you need to admit that, and write those rules down, and curate your space so it follows them.

Edited 8:10am PST to clarify the specifics of the behavior I find concerning.

[emilyjunk]

Rambled to my gf for like 10 mins about my new novel idea and then finally explained the key point of it and she said "oh my God that's genius, you're cooking" so today is not so bad I guess

[averagemartian]

cinematic parallels

[ID: Four pictures of the kombucha girl alongside of Iris West from the DCEU. They both have disgusted expressions in the first pair of pictures and thoughtful expressions in the second pair /end of ID]

[martyrbat]

girl stop praying for my downfall im already in the trenches...

[purpleparrot]

looking back i really cannot believe i survived college

[nineinchnailsonchalkboard]

.

[sstargirln]

❞ ᝰ .ᐟ stepdad(dy)!art

TW: smut MDNI - p in v, not proofread, so so much swearing, so much dirty talk oops, fauxcest/stepcest

word count: 2301

¡! ❞! a/n aka post-nut clarity : yikes! i am down BAD

“where the fuck have you been?” art's voice cut through the empty front foyer, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed as you stumble through the front door.

just a few years ago, art was nothing but a familiar face in tennis circles, your mom’s high-profile client from her days as a sports agent. you remembered watching his matches on tv when you were younger. hearing his name murmured around the house—art donaldson, the untouchable tennis star and his wife, tashi. but that marriage had fallen apart, fast. 

and then one day, you came home to find him at the dinner table, leaning back in his chair like he’d always belonged there. they were dating, your mom had said, not hiding the glint of satisfaction in her eyes as if she’d snagged the catch of the century. you never asked how it started, only watched as art slowly slipped from the screen into your everyday life.

art liked it—a family that wasn’t a media-fueled whirlwind, even if the kid was closer to his age than to being an actual child. 

the past few years had gone smoothly enough. art had settled into this new life, used to the late nights your mom spent at the office . . . and then you turned 18. and you were a rebellious mess of late nights and tight dresses and barely concealed fluttery eyelashes.  

whatever you were doing — if you meant to or not, was working. you were turning heads, catching eyes. and art’s mind had begun to shift as well. darken. 

he had begun to become infected by this feeling, creeping under his skin like poison. it bloomed inside him, a constant, gnawing need that he hated himself for. his thoughts spiraled, to you, to your body, to the way your mouth moved when you smiled, when you spoke. worst of all, the way the word daddy slipped from your lips effortlessly, so innocently.

“you reek. are you drunk?”  

you shake your head ever so slightly as you stumble towards the couch. "no, daddy, don't be ridiculous," you giggled, your words slurring. you adjust up the hem of your sleeveless dress as you spread on the couch, hair falling into your face. "i'm . . . tipsy at best."

art clenches his jaw at the sound of that forbidden word on your lips. his heart pounds in his chest, and he feels it low in his stomach, a jolt of heat straight to his groin.

he knows this is wrong, knows he shouldn't be picturing all the filthy things he wants to do to you, sprawled on the couch under him. "tipsy, my ass. who were you with?" he managed to choke out. 

you roll your eyes as you look up at him. "my friend sierra. went to a party." you lick your lips slowly, foot reaching out to graze against his leg. "my neck hurts from looking up at you, daddy. si'down." 

fuck, what are you doing? trying to drive him crazy? it's working. his cock twitches traitorously in his pants, already starting to stiffen at your casual touch. his body moves before his brain can catch up, sinking down onto the cushion beside you. "there. happy now?" he tries to keep his tone gruff, unaffected. 

you nod slightly, a small smirk tugging at your lips before you lean back with a pout, your eyes heavy. "so . . . what're you gonna do? hm? ground me?" you rest your legs across his lap.

it takes every ounce of his self-control not to reach out and touch you. all he can think how soft your skin must feel, how you would taste if he leaned in and ran his tongue along your inner thigh. his hands clench into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms. "maybe I should call your mother. let her deal with you. this is ridiculous. "

but even as the words leave his mouth, he knows he won't do it. knows he'll take the fall for you, like always. because despite his better judgment, despite the sickness churning in his gut at his own twisted desires — he can't bear the thought of disappointing you. 

you just giggled at his scolding, apparently too far gone to care. you shift on the cushions, arch your back slightly. making the flimsy sundress ride up even higher on your thighs, giving art a peek of red lace that he should not be seeing. art swallowed hard, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

 the room is silent for a few moments, art’s confrontation long dissipated. 

“mom’s gone a lot, hm?” your slurred, shaky voice snaps him out of his daze. you shift closer to him, foot brushing right against his crotch. 

art inhales sharply, his cock twitching as your foot grazes his straining erection. a flicker of panic passes over his face before he could hide it. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively, crossing his arms, trying to steady himself.

you just smirk up at him, eyes glinting mischievously even through the drunken haze. "oh c'mon, daddy, you know exactly what i mean." you draw out the forbidden word, letting it hang in the charged air between them. lick your lips. bat your lashes oh so innocently. "y'know, 's just that she’s never around anymore. mus' get real lonely for you.”

“don’t . . .” he choked. art dragged a hand over his face, trying to collect himself. "just go to bed," he stammered wearily, unable to meet your eyes. "we'll talk more about this in the morning when you're sober."

but you don’t listen, continue on as if he never said anything — lips curling into a knowing smirk. "mm, poor daddy," you murmur, a soft, taunting lilt to your voice. "don’t get much action, i’m sure."  

art exhales sharply, his eyes flicking to yours, then quickly away. “you need to go to bed.”

you scoot closer, your legs brushing against his. "i don’t want to sleep," you murmur, leaning in just enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. "maybe i want some attention. i know you do." 

“fuck,” he croaked. “stop.”

but you just smile up at him. lean in just a little. "must be hard, having so much to . . . hold in,” you whisper, your fingers trailing lazily along the edge of his sleeve. 

“please," he rasped. "we can't. i'm your father, for fuck's sake.” the words sounded weak even to his own ears. his resistance was crumbling by the second, defenses worn down by months of pent-up lust and longing. 

“not really.”

"go to bed," he repeats. this time his voice is barely more than a whimper.

"yeah, i'll go to bed . . .  but i’ll be thinking about you."

art's eyes slid shut as your fingers worked their way beneath the hem of his shirt, nails raking lightly over his abs. a low groan escaped him, the sound foreign to his own ears. he was in so deep, drowning in a sea of forbidden lust. 

“mhm, i’ll be thinking about you, daddy. are you gon’ make me take care of this myself?”  

art's breath hitched as your fingers trailed lower, brushing against the waistband of his jeans. his hips jerked involuntarily, aching for more contact despite the voice in the back of his head screaming at him to stop this madness. 

you pressed a kiss to his cheek, slow, wet. he wants to turn his head, to capture your lips with his own. to claim you, to ruin you for any other man. but he can't. he shouldn't. 

"please," he begs, but he's not even sure what he's asking for anymore. for you to stop? or for you to keep going, to grind against him until he explodes?

"i think you want this jus’ as badly as i do, huh?" your hand slid lower, brushing over the bulge straining against his zipper. "so why don't you stop fighting and just give in?"

and that's when art's careful control shattered. the last thread snapped, and a ragged curse tore from his throat as his hands shot out, grabbing your hips and hauling you onto his lap. capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, he scrabbles at your dress, rips it down.

he kisses you like a drowning man gasping for air, devouring you, pouring all his pent-up desire into the heated embrace. his fingers tangled in you hair, tugging roughly as he angled your head to deepen the kiss. you moan into his mouth, your own hands frantically roaming his chest and shoulders. art feels you grinding against him, the heat searing him even through his clothes.

he broke away from her lips to trail open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. down the column of her throat. "fuck, you drive me crazy," he growled against your skin, nipping at your pulse point.

your head lolls back, a wanton moan spilling from your lips. "please," you whimper, fingers scrabbling at his shirt. "i need you so bad."

art's mouth latched onto a pebbled nipple, sucking and biting as he ground his aching cock against you. his hands found your mouth, and he shoved a finger in. your tongue instinctively curling around the digits, lapping at them greedily. you mewled around his fingers, the sound muffled and desperate as arched into him, your own hands frantically working to undo his belt and zipper. art hissed in pleasure as your freed his throbbing member, stroking him slowly while he continued to ravish your chest. " 'm gonna fuck you so good." his hips rock into your hand, seeking more of that delicious friction.

he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. "i'm going to make you mine," he growls, fingers delving into your panties to stroke your slick folds. "gon' — fuck. gonna stretch this pretty pussy out. yeah? . . . yeah, 's that what you want?"

it's filthy, degrading, everything he knows he shouldn't want. but god help him, he can't stop. you nod desperately as you groan into his touch, grip on his dick loosening for a second when he teases your entrance with a finger. another light brush and he lifts his hand to your mouth, slipping it back inside between your lips before scooching back. pressing his cock to your entrance through your lacy panties. "pl — please," you cry, eyes wide and watery. "fuck me, please."

art groans, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. the heat of you seeps through the lacy fabric, making him throb with need. he rubs his tip against the practically see-through fabric, soaked through with arousal. relishes your needy, breathy moans. he hooks his fingers around your panties and rips them away, baring you completely to his hungry gaze. "look at you," he rasps, drinking in the sight of you spread out beneath him, glistening. ready. "so fucking perfect. fuck — 'm gonna . . . i'm gon' wreck this pussy, baby. make it all mine, yeah?" he slaps his length against your clit, smirking crookedly at the way you whimper. "make you forget about all those other — other little boys, yeah?"

and with that, he notches the head of his dick against your entrance and surges forward, burying himself balls-deep in your tight, slick pussy. you cry out, back arching off the couch as he fills you. stretches you, claims you.

he sets a punishing pace, fucking into you like a man possessed. the wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your pornographic moans and his grunts of pleasure "fuckkk," you whine into him languidly, hands scrabbling against his thick arms. "fuck, daddy. you're — you're so fucking big."

he leans down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue. swallows your cries of ecstasy as he pounds into you. he grunts, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "you like this, huh? like daddy's big . . . fuck — big cock splitting you open, hm?"

you nod with a sob, thighs shaking at the relentless snapping of his hips into yours. his fingers find your clit, rubbing mercilessly. pushing you closer to the edge with every touch.

"gonna cum," he warns breathlessly, hips stuttering. "gon' fill your cunt up, baby. breed this pussy."

he leans down to bite at your neck, sucking dark bruises into your skin. marking you as his territory.

"cum for me, baby," he demands, voice strained with impending release. "milk — milk me fuckin' dry."

the filthy words send you over the edge, your walls clamping down on him like a vice. you cum with a scream, convulsing around his shaft as he empties himself inside you with a loud moan.

he collapses on top of you, both of you panting and sated. for a long moment, he just holds you, nuzzling into your neck. you smile at him like you'd just won the lottery, legs wrapping around his hips.

"am i better than mom?" you whispered into his ear.

he lets out a real, honest-to-god bark of a laugh. "jesus christ," he pants. "you're fucking . . . you're amazing. fucking intense."

understatement of the century. he just fucked his stepdaughter senseless, filled her with his babies, and he's already craving more. fuck, he's in deep. so fucking deep. literally and figuratively.

¡! ❞ © sstargirln 2024

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty one

prompt: bulletproof pairing: lando/oscar word count: 700w

“Well, I told him it was a bad idea,” Logan says, through the tinny speaker of Oscar’s phone, that’s propped up onto the kitchen island, against Oscar’s fruit bowl.

Bulletproof, nothing to loose

“But he did it anyway, because I don’t think he ever actually listens to anything I tell him,” Logan continues.

Fire away, fire away

“So he vaults off the Yacht, catches his foot on the railing, nearly brains himself on the hull, and then goes hurtling into the water.”

BULLETPROOF

“I dive in after, thinking he might be unconscious, I’m like, worried as shit and he just emerges, laughing his fucking ass off like nothing’s wrong.”

NOTHING TO LOOSE

“I mean, something was wrong, because like, he has this massive gash in his foot now, had to get a bunch of stitches, it was a whole deal, but the- Oscar? Are you even listening to me?”

FIRE AWAY, FIRE AWAAAAAAY

“Hm?” Oscar says.

“Oh, great,” Logan says. “Have I just been talking to myself for the past five minutes?”

“No,” Oscar says, putting his focus back on the phone, scooting closer so his own face fills the little screen at the bottom. “No, I’m listening.”

“Sure,” Logan says. “So what have I been telling you about?” Oscar pulls a face. Logan raises an eyebrow. “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry,” Oscar says. “It’s just, my soulmate…”

Logan winces in sympathy. “Another song?”

Oscar sighs. “Same two lines. Over and over.”

“Yikes,” Logan says. “At least mine sings the entire song when they’ve got something stuck in their head.”

“Lucky you,” Oscar deadpans. “Alright, I gotta go. See you later, yeah?”

“Later!” Logan yells, and then hangs up.

FIRE AWAY, FIRE AWAYYYYY, his soulmates blares happily. Oscar tunks his head down on the counter.

--

“Oscar,” Lando says, three hours later.

Oscar, who has been listening to the same two lines of Titanium for like three hours now, looks up, happy for the distraction. “Yeah?”

“Listen this is, this might sound strange, but I have this song stuck in my head, and it’s starting to drive me nuts, so I can imagine my soulmate isn’t faring much better and I just. I read somewhere, that it helps if you listen to the whole song, except I can’t remember what it is?”

Oscar snorts. Apparently having annoying songs stuck in your head is just a running theme today. “Yeah, sure, what is it?”

“Oh, it’s like-“ Lando says, and then the most earie thing that’s ever happened to Oscar starts happening.

Lando starts singing the opening lines of the chorus of Titanium, in perfect tandem with the little voice in Oscar’s head that’s been singing the song over and over all day.

“Well?” Lando says. “Do you know it?”

Oscar stares at him. For a really long time. Wonders if this is really happening. Wonders if maybe Logan told Alex who told George who told Lando and now they’re making fun of him. Wonders what he would do, if. If.

“Are you joking?” He asks, genuinely.

“What?” Lando asks, frowns. “No? They played it in the airport earlier today but I forgot how the rest of the song goes and it’s been driving me nuts.”

It did start somewhere slightly after when Lando landed. Oscar knows, because Lando texted him. “Holy shit,” he says, and then again, for good measure, “holy shit.”

“What? What’s wrong, is this song like, weird? It’s not weird, right? It was like a massive hit, why are you-“ Lando never gets a chance to finish the rest of his sentence, because Oscar chooses that exact moment to kiss him full on the mouth.

“Sorry,” Oscar says, when he pulls away. Lando is just staring at him with big eyes, clearly confused. “Sorry, I just. Uh. Remember when you said it must be driving your soulmate pretty nuts?”

Lando nods.

“Well, it has been. Driving me pretty nuts. All day. Also the song is Titanium by David Guetta and Sia, if you were. Wondering.”

“Holy shit,” Lando says, and then again, for good measure. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Oscar says, and then Lando leaps forward and kisses him again.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Cyan Centipedes (False, AntFrost, and Ren)'s reactions to Martyn's Velma outfit, part one

Part Two here

Ren: It's Martyn! Lookin'-looking fabulous! False: Oh my goodness, Velma! Ren: (in a bad Scooby-Doo voice) Ruh-roh! False: (through laughter) I don't think--I don't think that's the appropriate--use of that. Ren: (through laughter) Lookin'--whew. False: Zoinks. I...don't know, actually, if that's how you use that. Ren: That-that-that minidress is...quite high. False: It's not that--it's a miniskirt Ren: It's quite high up, isn't it? It's a little bit...miniskirt. Minidress? Miniskirt. False: It's a look. It's a look. Ren: It's, uh, woof. I mean--yikes. (Ren laughs) This is supposed to be a PG event, False. I mean Shaggy. False: I mean. Hm. Falsie. And--Ren? Ren: (in a bad Scooby-Doo voice) Rooby! Ruh roh. Ruh roh! False: (judgemental) Hm. How do-how do bits work? (at the same time as each other) Ren and False: I don't know. Ren: I don't think we-I don't think care, I don't think we have it in us. False: Look at this, like, look at this, wait--get-get all three of us in, get all three of us in. Ren: Look at the state of us. False: Where's Daphne at? Ren: Where's Daphne at? False: Wait, where's Daphne at? We need her. She's--she's good at, y'know, going in traps and stuff, getting caught by the monsters. Ren: That miniskirt, though, is...pbbbt (he makes a noise like he's exhaling out of his mouth to make his lips flap) Yikes. False: Dude! Stop going on about the miniskirt, okay? Okay? Ren: It's just so short, though! It's intense!

[jazeswhbhaven]

WHB OCxNoble Headcanons: The proper grip!

Astra: *walking alongside Amy* Thanks for earlier, Amy I thought I was going to have to sit through another lecture from Sitri...

Amy: No problem, that guy is so god damn boring. Plus you always have me! *smiles*

Astra: Oh right, the answer to my question by the way...*stops*

Amy: ???

Astra: What's the proper way to grab a devil by it's horns to show dominance?

Amy: Oh that's easy, but uh I'm more of a demonstration kind of man. You don't have horns...

Astra: Hm. How about you explain it the best you can?

Amy: Yeah...okay here it goes. You take your hands like this *gestures his hands* and go low toward the base wherever it's the thickest and squeeze and act like you're flipping them over.

Astra: *observes Amy's hand gestures* Ah. Bend down for a second then.

Amy: ?? What for...

Astra: I'm going to practice. You're the only one here.

Amy: Hah, you think you can do it properly on me? Good luck. *grins as he bends down to Astra's level*

Astra: *grips Amy's horns exactly where he stated, except she actually ends up flipping him somehow and now he's on the ground* Whoa...

Amy: Krgghh?? Urhhhh? *weird groaning noises*

Astra: Amy! Are you okay? I didn't think I'd actually flip you....

Amy: Let...go....ple-URHGHS *squirms as his horns suddenly become wet*

Astra: Oh...yikes! My bad...did I press a spot? Amy?

Amy: *shivers and stays on the floor for the moment trying to calm himself down*

Later

Astra: And he's been on the floor for hours now...I'm sorry I had to bother you Sitri

Sitri: Thanks for telling me, Solomon. He really is a beast isn't he? *scrunches his nose while staring at Amy who is gazing at the ceiling* What is it that you did exactly?

Astra: Lean down a little for me? *Sitri does so and Astra grabs his horn using the same technique and also ends up flipping Sitri on his back who is now on top of Amy* Oh no...not again!

Sitri: ????!!!! Ughhhhhhh *disgusted sigh*

Astra: I have no idea what's going on....

Later after finding the other nobles, Astaroth educates that the method Amy taught Astra is more used for sex than it is for combat and by gripping a devil by their weak point causes a submissive reaction where a human like herself can easily flip them into any 'mating' position.

Astra has a golden ticket....

[gothamite-rambler]

"I am in the middle of something!"

Tim was nestled in bed with Bernard, the two curled up together and exchanging soft kisses. Suddenly, Tim's phone rang. He ignored the first two calls, but by the third, he groaned, irritation flashing across his face. When he checked the caller i.d. the headache started as he answered the call.

Tim (irritated): What?

Ra's Al Ghul (in his usual arrogant tone): No questioning who this might be?

Tim (staring at the ceiling): I have your number labeled 'Pompous Jackass.' What did you call me at midnight for? I’m in the middle of something!

Ra's (V.O.): It can't be more important than me.

Tim sighed heavily, pushing himself upright in bed and rubbing his tired eyes.

Tim (sarcastically): You’re right, oh mighty one whom I have massive respect for. What is it that you need? My schedule is wide open for you. Need my kidney this time?

Bernard, his arm around Tim's waist staying close against Tim, raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Bernard (whispering, intrigued): This time?

Tim (grinning): Long story. Mr. Ghul, what is it this time? Is it computer troubles? You could always try turning it off and on again. Wait, is it even on?

Bernard chuckled in the background.

Ra's (with a smug tone): You should leave the humor to Richard. He’s actually funny.

Tim narrowed his eyes, finger hovering over the end call button.

Tim (deadpan): I can end this call. You only reach out to me when you know I can specifically help you. If you want to fend for yourself—

Ra's (suddenly panicked): Hold on, I do need your help! It’s important.

Tim (raising an eyebrow): Then I’ll talk to you however I want, al'ahmaq.

Ra's (frustrated, but hiding a hint of exasperation): Okay, you don’t have to call me an ass in my native tongue! I swear, I hate all of you so much. Just grab a notepad and write down every detail I give you.

Tim: I'm ready, start rambling.

Tim leaned back into the cozy warmth of the bed, clicking on an app that records phone calls—especially helpful when dealing with Ra's antics. As Ra's rambled on, listing off details, Tim wrapped his arm back around Bernard's hip, relishing the close contact. Bernard kissed him quickly, but was distracted by the irate man on the phone.

Bernard (whispering, a hint of mischief in his voice): That’s—

Tim (with an amused smirk): Mm-hm.

Bernard (whispering, teasing): Yikes.

Tim (smiling softly, eyes closed and clearly at ease): Mm-hm.

[lunarmoves]

"do you guys ever wish you could cry?" you ask sun after one particularly exhausting day at the daycare.

he perks up slightly as he looks at you from across the room, blank white eyes inquisitively staring into your own. you take his silence as an indication to continue. "like just, fwoooosh"—you splay your hands outward with the onomatopoeia—"let it all out?"

sun's faceplate makes a sharp click as he tilts it to the side, then he goes back to sweeping up all the abandoned toys on the soft ground into his lanky arms. "now why would we want to do that, friend?"

you frown at his easy dismissal, but continue on, ever persistent in your inquiries. "you know, to make yourself feel better afterwards? ease some stress? especially after the day we've had." you add the last bit on with some dryness, thinking about all the fits and fights you had to deal with throughout your shift.

"mmmnope!" sun responds brightly. he makes his way over to the toy bin to deposit his haul for cleaning later. "can't say i see the appeal!" you're almost offended at this tone.

"come on, indulge me a little!" you complain halfheartedly and follow after him like a little duckling, stopping just a few feet away from his lithe form.

"my dear, all we ever do is indulge you," sun says not without a hint of fondness as he turns around from the bin and pats you on the head. it's not quite condescending, but you swat at his hand lightly and he pulls it back to point it up in a grand gesture. "but! very well!" he pauses, as though to prolong the moment in a dramatic fashion. then, "no. final answer."

"booo"—you give him a thumbs down and a wrinkle of your nose—"boring answer. try again."

sun laughs loudly and it doesn't quite sound like the one you are used to. a shiver crawls down your spine that you brush easily enough away for the time being. "'boring'? or is it just not what you want to hear, hm?"

yikes. he didn't need to call you out like that. you recover as quick as you can. "you can't tell me you've never wanted to cry before."

he doesn't even hesitate. "i've never wanted to cry before."

"ha ha," you say sarcastically. it makes his rays spin around once as he grins. "oh come on. doesn't it bother you that you can't express yourself like that?" you muse, more to yourself than anything, but he of course hears you anyways and settles an unreadable gaze on you.

"bother us? why would it bother us?" sun smiles widely at you, the edges of his grin taut and strained even with his eyes half-lidded and narrow. "why would it bother us that we cannot have water run from our eyes, or snot from our nose? that we cannot mimic something privy to organic beings? it is quite disgusting, frankly."

okay, now you're actually offended. even if he's right, he didn't need to say it in that way. "it can be cathartic for some people, you know!"

"ah ah ah!" sun wags a finger at you and seems to loom over your smaller form. he casts a shadow across your face. "you seem to forget one crucial detail: we are not people. therefore, it does not apply!"

"you clearly feel emotions, though!" you argue, even as you see white pupils alight in his eyes among a backdrop of hurricane grey. "you feel sad and happy and angry. why shouldn't you—"

"i think you've overstayed your welcome, friend," sun cuts across you in a whisper that makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. his head clicks to the left once and the sound is like a gunshot in the quiet of the daycare. his eyes squint into crescents at you, but there is no warmth in his gaze.

your jaw clicks shut. and when he speaks, something in your stomach abruptly bottoms out. "get out."

[starry-eyed-wild-child]

🌻 kappa x reader headcanons 🌻

. yikes, first off this man right here - I need him in my VEINS

. but swiftly moving on

. i'm not gonna sugarcoat anything, this relationship is probably toxic af - like you're both AWFUL for each other, it's like an obsessed kinda love that's probably really unhealthy

. but it's okay, we move

. probably met when he broke into your house or smth - but he'd probably been stalking you for weeks before, I don't make the rules we know it's true. but he'd 100% deny it to your face if you asked

. yes he would probably live in a VW samba. stereotypical? sure. but you can't tell me he doesn't - look me in the eyes and try I beg

. will get high with you every single night, if that's your vibe - and if it's not, he's still getting high with you every night cause he's such a gentleman

. kappa will swear on his life he hates animals, but the day you bring a cat home, bro is smitten

. will convince you to join the cult, let's not kid ourselves at all - whether you do so willingly is up to you, but either way, you're sleeping in that commune, babes

. would NEVER admit it aloud but he secretly wants small braids in his hair - tiny, tiny ones that go around. but you couldn't torture this information out of him

. try it, he'd probably get off on it

. i have said this before, and i stand by it - kappa listens to the zombies, it's a guilty pleasure that he'd rather die than admit

. y'know that red pendant he always wears? put it on for him, i beg. man will be on his knees

. is actually surprisingly a really good cook (i personally headcanon kappa as a veggie but that's just me, don't come at me pls)

. tries to be this heavy dominant man, but then probably smells like fucking fire and patchouli or some waffle

. putting the nsfw under the cut cause i don't wanna get scolded

. we, as a fandom, have collectively agreed that kappa is absolutely packing it down there

. he's a solid nine inches, and definitely has a few piercings - nipple bars are the ones that come to mind when I think of kappa, but probably had them in more intimate places 🤭

. is the kinkiest motherfucker you'll ever meet in your life - everything you knew? forget it, babes, kappa knows best

. if it's not messy and sloppy, kappa doesn't want it - you will be covered in scratches, bite marks, cum, blood, spit and sweat by the time this man is done with you

. he's so mean, man, oh my god

'c'mon, sugar, you can take it, you've fucking done it before'

'stop fucking crying or I'll give you something to cry about'

. aftercare? what's that? kappa will clean you up and maybe, maybe, if you're really, really good, he'll hold you

. loves, loves, loves fucking you outdoors - in 'mother nature' 🌿🍄

. hot take but kappa actually LOVES mutual masturbation (he's so gross, he just likes watching you touch yourself)

. his ego will be heightened when you can't finish by yourself

'awe, what's the matter, sugar? can't even cum without me anymore?'

. he's so fucking mean, I want him bad, man

. BREEDING KINK ( look me in the eyes and tell me no, i dare you)

. pushes his cum so deep inside you that it doesn't even drip out

'gotta make sure it stays nice and put, sugar, gonna fuck a baby into you, hm?'

. will praise you but in a really derogatory way? idk how to describe it

. when i tell you, you will never want another man again - kappa will make you feel things you didn't even know you could, man

. very, very good at what he does - kappa is very cocky, he knows he's good, and he loves when you tell him how good he is

. let this man eat you out, bro - you'll be in heaven. he's so disgusting with it - he's messy, sloppy and you can guarantee he will lap, lick, drool and dribble absolutely everywhere

. you have to beg this man to get away from between your legs - and even when you do, he still doesn't

. realistically, he's probably like a -2/10 BUT I'm gonna give him a solid 9/10 cause he's my man, and i'm delusional

. 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩

[velveteenprayers]

IN THE DAYTIME, I'M PERCY JACKSON…

pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

summary: miraculous au

word count: 1k+

a/n: none! pls enjoy

Percy stood on the edge of the building, admiring the city skyline, crisp wind biting at his cheeks. When the dark floating creature -Plagg, he soon found out - told him he'd be able to reach wherever he pleases, he didn't believe him. Not like he does now, ecstasy bubbling in his chest at the sight of afternoon traffic. He could go anywhere he wanted. No longer contained by degenerates in the hallway or the bum of a man back home. He was free.

He was now tapping his staff (because he had one now) in deep contemplation about where he should go next. Jumping onto his apartment building's roof was easy enough, but now he needed to do a serious stunt. Or maybe he should just go to the ice-cream stall a few blocks down. The owner was usually in full operation this time, considering it was Friday and all-

Just then his train of thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash behind him. Heightened senses now alerted, he turned around,  prepared to attack and scanned the perimeter. Just when he thought he was finally going crazy, a wreck of a person emerged from the now damaged roof exhaust, arms failing as you looked like you were about to topple over the edge. Yikes, he thought, approaching you to assist, his concern outweighing any alarm.  

But as he was, you suddenly seemed to gain composure, taking in deep breaths, a clear look of panic in your eyes. For the first time he saw the black string tied around the roof exhaust, his eyes following it until they landed on a red and black polka dotted yo-yo. Your suit, which he had also just noticed, was similarly fashioned. 

His day becoming impossible more exciting, a smile overtook his face. Were you also like him? Just then, your eyes met, and you swiftly looked away, face scrunched in embarrassment as

you pretended to admire some nonexistent thing in the horizon. He almost started laughing, but didn't for your sake.

"Are you okay up there?" He yelled out, and you pretended to see him for the first time.

"What?"

"I asked if you're okay up there, you seem a little...tied up."

"Are you making fun of me, cat boy?"

…

Cat boy?

"Look, I know this is a bit..." He struggled to find the right word.

"Weird? Strange? Scary? Disorientating?"

Percy nodded his head.

"All of the above. But I think it means something. Did you also talk to one of those, um, floaty magical thingies?

"You mean the kwamis." You deadpanned.

"Hm ?"

"They're called kwamis," you repeated, stepping closer towards him, having untangled your yo-yo, "not floaty magical thingies."

"Wow, you actually listened to that spiel?"

You raised an eyebrow in a faux unimpressed manner, though your face betrayed you,  showing amusement.

"You didn't? Well I don't know how I feel working with a person who barely knows the basics."

"The basics?"

"Why, the basics of being a Miraculous holder, of course." You flicked at his chest playfully, showing him a close-eyed smile, as though you were letting him in on a secret. And weren't you?

Just then, your earring beeped loudly, your hand lurching towards it, a look of horror overtaking your face.

"Gotta go!" You announced abruptly, throwing your yo-yo to the nearest building. It failed at latching onto anything, and Percy had to watch as you awkwardly tried to connect it a few more times. Once you did, you left him with a warm smile and a "Bye! See you next time cat boy!" before unceremoniously crashing into the next building, getting up, and running into the distance.

What a weirdo, Percy thought to himself as he detransformed, entering his building, thoughts consumed solely by you. And if he was going to do this Miraculous thing gig full time, he needed a better name than Cat Boy, seriously. And possibly a better partner.

Gods, Percy hated starting new schools. The fact that it was the middle of the school year didn't help. He stood in the doorway, trying to find a seat in the overpopulated classroom. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and that did little to ease his nerves. He timidly chose a desk in the front row, which would probably do very little for his popularity, but what other option did he have? As he was sitting, anxiously waiting for the lesson to begin so he could go home sooner, he failed to notice the looming shadow over him. 

"I sit here."

"Huh?!" He quickly became aware of the towering, monsterish boy. What in the world were they feeding this kid at home? 

"I said that I'm sitting here."

"Oh." Percy had begun to realise how deadly quiet the class had become, everyone watching in either fear or interest, or a combination of both. His blood was rushing to his ears, and he felt a pit of nausea growing in his stomach. He might die from pure embarrassment before this kid would lay a hand on him at all. Until he heard a yell of "Lay off him, Reno." and caught sight of  a lethal glare, and the aforementioned boy was gone.

With your sudden appearance, the class  seemed to collectively let out an exhale, all of them returning to their previous conversations as though nothing had happened. Percy, however, was fully ensnared by you.

"Hey, um," he cleared his throat to get your attention, your intimidating glare lessening as you glanced at him. Gods, where you pretty, "thanks, for your, um, help back there." 

Why was he stuttering so much?

You observed him coolly.

"No problem. You're new, right?" 

It was not as much a question as it was a statement.

"Yeah." You nodded your head astutely, holding out your hand. His ring clad one met yours in a brief moment of eye contact. You had starry eyes. Like the ones in books.

"Percy."

"Name."

 At the sound of the bell, you walked towards  a seat next to a red haired girl, black earring catching the sunlight.