#but it's not really the point of all this and i literally made it up on the spot lol

[pshbites]

MY FIRST AND LAST ━ pjs

pairing : bf!jisung x gf!reader genre : est relationship, pure fluff warnings : petnames, crying, kissing, jisung is a lil loser umm thats all! synopsis : a series of firsts you've had with your bf jisung wc : 2.1k a/n : muaahahah finally another ncity fic i larb writing for them! if you enjoyed please join my dream taglist !!

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is also always appreciated!!

your first date. before you and jisung started dating you were mutual friends through jaemin. jaemin told you about jisung assuring you that he was a nice guy and since you two were single it wouldn’t hurt to go on a date! so being the good friend you were, you listened and decided to go on that date. it wasn’t like you didn’t know jisung, you guys were both in the same graduation year at your college and had met him a couple times at some of the hangouts jaemin invited you to, what was the harm in going on a date?

the date was a movie and dinner after since jaemin insisted that would be the best way to get to know one another. jaemin also reassured you that jisung was sort of interested in you and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a set up. the entire date jisung was quite different from how he texted you prior, he was sort of shy and awkward. a part of you thought maybe he was nervous but then the other part thought that he just didn’t like you. 

after dinner jisung insisted on walking you home and it was then that he admitted that he was actually so nervous the entire date, that he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you. “honestly when jaemin told me you said yes i thought i was dreaming.. i mean you’re just so out of my league” he admitted shyly, scratching his neck and looking forward, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. what a cute loser, you thought. “i am so in your league park don’t even.” you replied, elbowing him softly in a playful way. jisung looked down at the sidewalk, cheeks flushed. 

first kiss. after your first date with jisung the two of you went on three more and talked so much over the phone. at some point everyone around you two was convinced that you were dating but of course, you were just two fools who didn’t know that you liked one another. 

“i mean i don’t even think he’s considering these actual dates, you know?” you said, painting your nails next to your roommate, yizhuo, for whatever reason she was convinced that he had the fattest crush on you but you could beg to differ. “he literally said he was so scared to talk to you, if that doesn’t scream into you i don’t know what does” she sighed out, crossing her arms and sinking further into the couch. you sighed and threw your head back in frustration, why couldn’t he just tell you how he felt?

“i just have no idea how to say it you know, besides there’s no point she does not like me” jisung groaned out, making both jaemin and chenle eye one another. chenle rolled his eyes and sighed, “you take this one” he waved off at jaemin who sighed as well. “if she wasn’t into you do you really think she would’ve gone on like five dates with you?” he looked at jisung who only frowned slightly. “i don’t know! maybe she’s just being nice” he said, pacing around the room once more which made chenle even more frustrated. jisung had been going on for about an hour now and he was tired of it. “dude if you really wanna know her apartment isn’t like far from here, just go” chenle replied, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. 

if chenle were looking at jisung he would see that something clearly was put in his mind, “you’re right..” he mumbled. before jaemin and chenle knew it, jisung was putting on his shoes and grabbing his coat, heading out the door. “dude it’s raining!” chenle shouted, making jisung shake his head, “i’ll be fine!” jisung was indeed not fine because after running to your apartment he was sure there was water in his socks. it didn't help that it was cold outside so his bones were quite frozen. 

in the middle of your conversation you and yizhuo heard frantic knocking on the front door. “what the hell..” you mumbled, glancing at the door then yizhuo. she sank further into the couch and shook her head, “you get it! you’re already standing up” she pointed and you sighed at her childishness. you walked over to the door, opening it to reveal jisung, drenched from head to toe. he seemed out of breath, like he had ran here. 

“oh my god jisung come in” was all you could say as he came in, still shivering. luckily you still had a towel hanging so you draped it over, patting his hair dry, then his face. as you held his face, he looked in your eyes, trying to build up the confidence to say something. you glanced over to the couch, yizhuo was long gone and probably ran to her room.

 “i’ll get you-“ 

“do you like me” 

you looked back to jisungs eyes, staring into them. “i..” you breathed out, unable to find words. “i really like you and i know you probably just don’t feel the same way but we could just be friends-“ “shut up park” you mumbled, leaning in to kiss him. his lips reciprocated, moving against yours. his lips were cold, yet still soft, the same with his hands as they found your waist, pulling you closer. you smiled softly as you pulled back, jisung wearing that same cute smile he always does. 

“does this mean we’re dating?” he breathed out and you nodded, laughing. “yes park, we’re dating.”

first time sleeping over. you and jisung had been dating for about 3 months, it was safe to say everything was smooth sailing. your friends are always sick of you two but that’s just because you loved kissing his pretty lips. yizhuo was especially tired right now because she had to stay in her room while you and jisung watched a movie in the living room. as the ending credits rolled you looked over to jisung who was sound asleep next to you, poor boy. before he came over he had said he was up all day for some labs he had to do but he still insisted on coming over to watch this movie with you. 

you patted his cheek softly, waking him up. he looked around confused then looked at you and frowned slightly. “i fell asleep didn’t i?” he sighed and you nodded, “it’s okay, you were tired don’t worry” you smiled softly, patting his head. the two of you sat like this for a couple seconds until you broke the silence. “you could.. sleep over. you’re too tired to go home” 

immediately jisungs cheeks flushed and you felt yourself melting a little. “uh.. yeah okay..” he cleared his throat, standing up to rub his palms on his sweatpants. “cmon” you smiled, leading him to the way to your bedroom. as the two of you walked in jisung shut the door behind you two, watching as you got into your bed, leaving space for him. jisung stood there awkwardly for a couple seconds and you sighed. “grow up park we’ve cuddled on the couch” you smiled, heart melting at his nervousness 

“yeah yeah..” he mumbled, walking over and slipping under the covers with you. he laid down, turning to face you. you smiled at his rosy cheeks. “hi” you breathed out, eyes not leaving his. “hi” he mumbled back, making you smile even more. you scooted closer to him and nuzzled your face in his chest. jisung hesitated before holding you closer in his arms. “night park” you muttered, making jisung smile softly. he rested his chin on the top of your head, “night baby.”

first time crying in front of the other. for the past week or so, you’ve been distant with jisung. there was no specific reason it was just because sometimes you have those days and strong people can’t always be okay. you didn’t want to burden jisung with this so here you sat, in a booth full of your friends, grilling meat and talking. you picked at the food on your plate and set your chopsticks down. 

jisung noticed and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “you tired?” he spoke, softly. you leaned back a little and looked in his eyes, full of worry. “yeah a little” a lie. he nodded and looked to everyone, “me and yn are heading out guys” he said, grabbing your hand so the two of you could leave. everyone said their goodbyes and you two left the restaurant. 

you found yourself telling jisung everything to the point where you thought you were burdening him. which is why you didn’t choose to tell him how stressed you had been lately. in hindsight it was the worst decision ever but you thought you were doing a good thing. the walk to his apartment was short and silent. as you two entered his apartment he helped you talk off your coat and hang it for you. 

jisung knew something was up, he knew you lied to him in the restaurant but he didn’t want to say anything in front of your friends because he believed it was a conversation the two of you should have alone. “i’m gonna go use the bathroom” you said, not looking at him. “wait” jisung stood in front of you, blocking your way. 

he looked down at you and frowned slightly. “did i do something wrong?” he breathed out and you furrowed your brows looking up at him. “what?” “you’ve just been so distant and i thought maybe today things would be fine and i guess not..” hearing him say those words broke your heart, he thought you were mad at him. the two of you stood in silence, jisungs eyes searching yours. 

the silence was only broken when you started crying. “hey hey hey..” jisung mumbled, pulling you into his arms. “i’m sorry i just i was so stressed out and i didn’t want to bother you” you spoke through broken sobs, jisung stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head. “you could never bother me, baby, don't think that,” he said, holding back tears of his own. how could he have let you think that way?

you pulled back and he wiped the tears off your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. his own eyes slightly glassy. “your problems are my problems and that’s how it’ll always be from now on, okay?” he spoke, looking into your eyes and you nodded, sniffling softly. “now cmon let’s get you something to eat” he smiled, grabbing your hand in his and leading you to his kitchen. 

first time saying i love you. the night before you and jisung celebrated your one year, it was everything you could’ve dreamed of. he took you to a nice fancy restaurant, then desert afterwards and finally you ended the night off with a walk around the city park. throughout the night only one thing was on your mind, you loved him. 

you loved every detail of him, how he lights up your day with his presence, how his nose scrunches when he smiles. everything. you knew deep down you did but last night sort of solidified it for you. you turned in bed to face him, fast asleep, making you smile softly.  

you pushed some of the hair off of his face, making his nose twitch a little. his eyes opened to see you, making him instantly smile. “good morning baby” he said, voice a bit raspy. “morning park” you smiled back, letting him pull you into his chest. his hand rested on your back, drawing small shapes. 

“you sleep well?” you looked up at him, him nodding and rested his chin on your head. “could sleep a little more” he mumbled, making you smile. “you can’t park, you have class at noon” you replied, jisung only groaning aloud in response. “just ten more minutes..” he muttered, holding you closer if possible. 

you two laid in that position for a couple more minutes until you leaned back a little to look up at him properly. you stared in his eyes and smiled softly, cupping his cheek. “i-“ “i love you” jisung breathed out. you stared back, shocked but a little proud? you didn’t think he’d have the guts to say it first. “you beat me to it” you mumbled, making him smile. “not gonna say it back baby?” he teased, leaned in to kiss your face all over. 

you giggled at his acts, feeling ticklish as his hands roamed your body to find your most ticklish spots. “i love you too park stop it!” you spoke through giggles making jisung laugh with you. he stopped to look at you, your flushed cheeks and lips that were pouted oh so softly. all he wanted to do was kiss you. and that he did. jisung always kissed you like his life depended on it and that wasn’t gonna change anytime soon. 

taglist : @cupidhoons @leeechin @chobunz @fatalhoon @junislqve @ourhees @geutori @hyuckworld @lqfiles @haedgaf @ronniee-26 @fairqves @wavetokgv @i03jae (i tagged some moots who i know are seasonies but please join my dream perma tl if you enjoyed!)

dream taglist

© all rights to pshbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[denkilightning]

watching dreams stream rn and the way dream always carries out conflict/confrontation conversations with entire paragraphs of stating everything about the situation from his perspective, how it makes him feel, what can be done about it and basically being extremely emotionally intelligent and mature for which the main proof is the message he sent tommy that he showed in the beginning VS tommys portrayal of him being a purposefully slow caricature with 'youre a bully 2x' 'its mine' 'youre the worst person ever' making him seem like a child mentally... same man who called dream 'an actual bastard' for posting a meme with the r slur in it

[alotofpockets]

Clingy | Vivianne Miedema x Man City!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

-----

You had been at City for a few years now, and your teammates knew you well. They knew you loved the team, and hanging out together, but they also knew that you weren’t as affectionate as most of them were. 

Never did your teammates think anything of you not being affectionate with them. It wasn’t something everyone enjoyed, and they knew that. They were just happy to have you around.

However when Viv joined the team, all of a sudden they saw a shift in your affection. 

The first time they noticed something was when you were on the bus, sitting next to Viv. Her head leaning on your shoulder, after she had fallen asleep. Most of your teammates had seen the moment, but figured Viv had just nodded off, and you didn’t want to wake her.

But it wasn’t just that moment. It didn’t matter in what environment you were, Viv always found a way to be near you.

When walking towards the pitch for training, Viv would loop her arm through yours. You never shrugged her off, and your teammates noticed there how naturally you let it happen.

During drills at training, she would nudge your shoulder ever so often while waiting for the next drill. Sometimes it was to point something out, other times it was to joke around.

Even during games. When you and Viv would both sit on the bench, she made sure to sit next to you. When someone would try to squeeze in, she would subtly shift so she could keep her spot next to you.

When you were out with some of the girls, they noticed that Viv would place her hand on your arm or leg casually, like it was the most normal thing ever. It might be a normal thing for most people, but for you it wasn’t.

The girls had never seen you let anyone get so close to you, and they kept being amazed.  They couldn’t wrap their head around the fact that you let Viv be so clingy, while usually you didn’t even like when people touched you in general. Were you just letting it happen because you didn’t want to make Viv feel bad? Or were you enjoying it as much as she was?

It was the first movie night since Viv joined, that someone decided to voice their thoughts. The movie started and to no one's surprise, Viv sat down next to you. It didn’t take long for her to get comfortable and cuddle into your side, her legs resting on yours. 

About halfway through the movie, you got a call. “Sorry, I have to take this.” You whispered into Viv’s ear. Gently pulling your body away from underneath hers. Some of your teammates shot you questioning looks. “It’s okay, just keep playing the movie. I’ll be right back.”

You moved into the hallway of Jill’s apartment, closing the door behind you to block the noise that was coming from the living room before you picked up the phone.

Viv looked after you, sad to have lost the comfort that you were giving her. Alanna noticed the longing looks she was sending to the door. “Viv, do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?" The question came out rougher than intended, but Alanna went with it anyway.

Her head turned to Alanna and the rest of the girls. “Yeah, why wouldn’t she?” Viv asked with her brow slightly furrowed. Surely if you didn’t like her doing so, you would have told her by now.

The movie was paused and all attention was on your conversation now. “Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen her be touchy with anyone. In fact I’ve seen her push people off or tell them off when they’re touching her for too long.” 

Some of the girls chuckled, and Lauren added, “It’s commonly known that she doesn’t like it when people touch her.” A statement that came with a few nods from the rest of the girls.

Before you could say anything, Jill jumped in. “Yeah, well you guys don’t know y/n outside of City. I grew up with those two, they’ve always been like this.” 

Kerstin build up Jill’s point more. “Literally. When I joined them at the national team, I for real thought they were dating.”

Viv’s cheeks turn red at Kerstin’s words, peaking the interest of the team even further than the conversation about if you liked the clinginess or not.

You returned to the living room and all eyes were on you. It felt a little uneasy, so you quickly sat down next to Viv again. But instead of her leaning into your side like she usually did, she kept sitting up straight. It looked like she was actively making sure that she wasn’t touching you.

The whole situation felt awkward. The movie paused, and all eyes on you. Well, all eyes except Viv’s, who seemed to be ignoring you at all costs. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Jill exchanged a quick look with Alanne before speaking up, deciding it was best if she took the lead in answering. “We were just talking about how close you and Viv are. Nothing bad!” 

Your eyes narrowed at the addition of the ‘nothing bad’. No one ever added that when that was the case. 

"Right," Lauren added, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably. "We were just saying it’s surprising—since you’re not usually, you know, touchy with anyone."

You look between them, a frown forming on your face. “Okay, and?” You didn’t like when people analysed you in the first place, but why did they have to bring Viv into it?

“Well,” Alanna spoke up after the rest of the team seemed to hesitate. “we were wondering if you’re actually okay with it. You don’t really let people touch you ever. But Jill said you two have been this way for ages, and that’s kind of where the conversation ended.”

Viv’s posture and refusal to meet your eye, suddenly made sense. They had said something to make her doubt herself, or even worse make her doubt you and your actions. 

“Seriously?” You snap at them, feeling the anger boil inside your chest. “Don’t you have something better to do than analyse who I let into my personal space?”

The team looked taken back, not expecting your anger. You realised it had come out sharper than intended, so after taking a deep breath, you softened your tone. “Look, I know I’m not the most affectionate person, but it’s Viv. I don’t mind Viv being clingy. And if you think for a second that I would let anyone do anything that I didn’t want, you don’t know me at all.”

The team knew very well that you knew you would stand your ground and not let anyone walk over you, so they should’ve realised that you would’ve also not let Viv do something you didn’t like. 

Finally Viv looked up at you, her fingers still fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie. “You really don’t mind?”

You shake your head and reach for her hand. “No, not at all. I like it even.” With a gentle tug at her hand, you pull her back into your side. 

The rest of the girls kept watching you, as you pulled Viv closer and wrapped your arm around her. “Can we please move on and continue watching this movie?” 

Viv lightly chuckled at the girls mumbling their sorry’s as they turned back to the TV. You squeeze her a little tighter. “Don’t let them get to your head. If you ever question something, please just come to me.” She nodded her head, and got comfortable again. 

-----

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[accessible-tumbling]

ID: Four screenshots of Reddit posts. The first screenshot is of a Reddit post on "r/harrisonburg" by "u/MarkWestin", titled: "Need a fake kid to piss off my wife".

The post reads:

"My wife and I are watching Elf together and we saw the part where Buddy (Will Ferrell)'s real dad (James Caan) tells his wife about Buddy, and his wife (Mary Steenburgen) gets excited about this surprise adult kid that pops into their life from a time before they knew each other.

I point out to my wife that it's a little unbelievable that she (Mary Steenburgen) would immediately be on board. I then comment that she (my wife) would actually be mad at me in this situation, even if I genuinely did not know this kid existed and it was conceived before I had met her.

She denies it, but I know my wife.

We're in our early 40s and have been married 10 years (together for 12). So, I need a 20ish kid to knock on the door and tell me they're my kid and that they just wanted to meet me. Gotta be convincing and really talk about how your mom and I were once really happy before she died of something tragic (dealer's choice).

Job pays $100."

The next three screenshots are of another Reddit post, by the same user, in the same subreddit, titled: "Fake Kid/Pissed Wife: Epilogue".

They read:

"TLDR: My wife enjoyed the prank, but I was wrong, she wasn't mad that I had a kid before her, she was actually just as stoked as Mary Steenburgen was in the movie.

First off, I am STILL married and my wife thoroughly enjoyed the prank (I didn't even have to sleep on the couch).

So, to the very dramatic naysayers (one of which compared my prank to spousal abuse, several diagnosed me with a number of mental illnesses and at least as many said I was childish and cruel) to you i say, "You're probably right, however... nah nah nah-booboo, stick your head in doodoo."

We've been married a decade. We know each other well enough to know what's over the line and what's funny.

That said, it was harder than I thought to secure a fake child. Sure, I had a large number of interested parties and even a couple fabulous candidates (one of which actually looked enough like me that I started wondering if one of you got to my wife and we're pulling the ultimate Uno Reverse Card on my prank).

Unfortunately, "interested" and "committed" are two very different things. Multiple potential sons and daughters made it to the planning stage and found one reason or another to bail out.

Let me be clear, I do not blame these folks at all.

I don't think l'd have the courage to send the first DM, let alone actually go through with the prank orchestrated by a complete stranger. But I did find a suitable actor with the courage to come through and I still think it was money well spent.

So here's a synopsis of how it played out (no, there's not a video):

Saturday afternoon, my doorbell rang. My dog lost his mind, as he is one to do, and my wife answered the door since I had pretended to take a call moments earlier.

"My son," looking about 20 to 25, taller and better looking than I, asked if I was home. My wife motioned to me (I had conveniently just ended my fake phone call) and I came to the door.

"My son," who even shared my first name (his idea, not mine) said he had something "kind of strange" to talk to me about. I asked if he wanted to come in (which literally almost blew the whole thing because I would sooner saw off my own foot than invite people in my house) but my wife didn't think much of it.

We came to the living room, I offered him a drink, he declined.

"My son" is an excellent actor, by the way. He would later say it was the anxiety of the situation and not wanting to mess up that made his "nervous demeanor" so convincing. This is from memory, but it's pretty much everything.

I'll let "my son" chime in with details should he feel like outing himself."

""Do you remember, 'Old Ex Girlfriend I Mentioned At Least Once In My Ten Year Marriage In Front Of My Wife?"

"Yeah..?"

"That's my mother..."

It was my wife who reacted first with "Oh no way!"

So I looked at her, feigning ignorance and then back at my son and said, "Is she ok?"

"Yeah she's fine, that's not why l'm here." My wife was nearly busting out of her chair, totally engrossed and completely. consumed with two strong theories...

1. Her husband had a long lost son.

and more importantly

2. Her husband hasn't figured out yet that he has a long lost son.

So I say, "Out with it kid, what's going on?"

"I'm 22 years old.."

My wife's eyes essentially bugged out of her head, having now confirmed her theories in her mind. She looks at me, seemingly annoyed that I hadn't put these obvious puzzle pieces together and INTERRUPTS my fake kid (nearly laughed but l held it together).

"I think he's telling you that he thinks you're his father."

My acting is not so great but I gave it a shot with "Wait, what?" My look of shock could use some work, but it played for the audience.

"My son" looked at me. "She's right. And I'm not here to ask for anything, in fact I don't have a lot of time to stay, but I just wanted to meet you and maybe exchange numbers?"

Me: "This is a lot to take in... I knew your mother a long time ago and she never said, I mean, I didn't know."

Him (I'm paraphrasing, but this kid deserves an Oscar): "She never told you. She only told me on Christmas morning. She didn't say anything bad about you, just that it was over and she was already dating my dad when she found out she was pregnant with me."

Me: "Wait, does you dad know?""

"Him: "Of course! And I've always known he wasn't my biological father. He's a great dad but lately l'd been wondering who my real father was so I asked mom and she told me."

Me: "Wow" (I freely admit, I had the easy part) My wife: (not saying anything, just taking it all in)

Not much else to tell in terms of the production.

We exchanged numbers, then he got his own fake phone call reminding him he was late for something or other and I walked him out.

The rest of the production was just my wife and I. I came back to the living room, doing my best "bewildered" act. We talked about it (covered things like paternity tests, etc.) and it turns out...

I was waaaaaaaaaay wrong. My wife wasn't mad, miffed or even slightly annoyed. She was full-on amazed, excited and entertained by the whole thing. I waited a few hours before I fessed up, but before I did, she kept saying how "cool" it was that I might have a son.

And then when I told her it was all a bullshit lie I made up to prove a point, she laughed. A lot.

I can't decide what amused her more... the effort I put into the ruse or the fact that I ended up proving her right in the process.

Here a couple gems from wife after I told her the truth.

"Where the hell did you find that guy?" "I'm glad your son wasn't a serial killer." "I might have been mad if he came here looking for money." "Next time you can save $100 and just assume you're wrong." "You know l'm going to get you back, right?"

That last one has me a little worried. :)"

End ID.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

One user asked me if the reason for the “push back” against Robert Eggers intention in his 2024 “Nosferatu” adaptation (especially Ellen Hutter relationship with Count Orlok) is because 1922 Ellen Hutter is meant to be a pure-hearted and virtuous woman, like her book counterpart Mina Harker from “Dracula” (a model of purity and modesty of the Victorian woman), and I decided to write a post about this.

I think many are missing Eggers intention with this film for several reasons:

1) Going Mainstream

First, this film is being a success at the box office, and while that’s amazing because I want more films like this getting made, this also means many who aren’t the “target audience” are seeing it, and completely missing the mark because they aren’t familiar with the Gothic Horror or Gothic Romance genre. Nor with Robert Eggers work.

Not liking this film is completely valid, not every piece of media and art is meant for us. Great, move on.

And there’s nothing wrong with folks not being familiar with the Gothic genre if they are interested in learning and understanding it. The problem is when people are hellbent in misunderstanding it and stuck on their own narrow views to the point they sound brainwashed, without an ounce of critical thinking and behave like a hivemind: “if many are saying this is probably true” type of thinking. And we are in the “social media era” where everyone thinks their own opinions are valid, so there’s that too.

Also I would add many are probably used to the “Marvel formula” of “over exposition”: having the entire story spelled out on screen instead of classic storytelling with an actual build-up and narrative devices (foreshadowing, red herrings, Chekhov's Gun, etc.). This causes misunderstanding, as well, because folks used to this type of storytelling won’t understand what they are seeing because they are used to be fed everything (“exposition”) and taking everything literally. This is also a film that requires analysis; this is clearly for the “film buffs” because Eggers wants to become a “cult director” too.

Eggers probably knew this was going to happen and he probably doesn’t care either. As Von Franz so interestingly says in the film: “Neque mittatis margaritas vestra ante porcos!” And ancient Latin saying which means “Nor cast your pearls before swine!”

Directors with strict artistic views (like Eggers) rarely care if the audience understands it or not. “The VVitch” was a feminist success when it was released in 2015, apparently now some are saying it’s problematic, because “oh my God, the Devil is a deceiver! Who knew???”. “The VVitch” and this version of “Nosferatu” are also pretty much the same story with a different framing.

2) Lack of Knowledge concerning the story and the time period

Many don’t seem to know that “Nosferatu” and “Dracula” are the same thing. Count Orlok is Count Dracula.

This story takes places in the Victorian era, and Eggers transports his audience to the time period his films are set in. Which means, we can’t look at this story through contemporary lenses, nor with our current sensibilities because that’s missing the point of Eggers work.

This movie deals with female sexuality, especially its repression and containment, which was the case in the Victorian era. Women weren’t supposed to be sexual, at all. If women displayed sexuality they were considered “hysterics” and could be institutionalized by their fathers and husbands (which is what happened to 2024 Ellen, as she tells Von Franz). Really, women could be institutionalized just by talking back to her husbands in this time period. And even within marriage, female sexuality should be modest and restrained, women weren’t suppose to know sexual pleasure, and it’s the husband who took the lead, always.

Men could sleep with whoever they wanted and even go to brothels every night, but this wasn’t the case for “decent Christian women”, at all. Sex for women in the Victorian era was supposed to be a painful task they had to go through to have children. There was even the famous saying “think of England” when wives were having sex with their husbands (“think of England” as in “think of something nice” other than what’s happening).

Ellen having astral sex with Orlok and getting pleasure from it was highly scandalous for this time period. Of course this a freaking horror movie and he’s a demon, but if they were actual people, doing this, unmarried, in the Victorian era, this would be a scandal and she would be ruined socially. Which is kind of what happens, and why the whole thing causes her great shame and guilt. It has nothing to do with “abuse” or “grooming” or whatever.

And, I don’t know why many are saying this happened during Ellen’s childhood? Because what she had since childhood are her supernatural abilities, as she tells Von Franz: she knew what her Christmas presents were before opening them and had a premonition of her mother’s death. She wasn’t talking about getting that demonic D, that was during her teenage years as a metaphor for her sexual awakening/puberty. Obviously.

3) Confirmation Bias

While seeing this movie without any previous knowledge (like “Nosferatu” = “Dracula”; or the historical context where this story takes place) the opposite is also true.

I think this is more true for fans of the previous adaptations of “Nosferatu”. They are misunderstanding the story Eggers is telling in his own adaptation because their perception is shaped by the 1922 film (mostly) and the 1979. And so, they will interpret what they are seeing as a “rehash” of the previous story (which isn’t the case here, this is an entirely different story).

And so, they see 2024 Ellen as the pure-hearted and virginal 1922 Ellen who selflessly sacrifices herself to save everyone, even though that’s not the story Eggers is telling and the script contradicts this. Eggers added plots that aren’t a a part of previous adaptations (Orlok and Ellen psychosexual connection; their covenant; occult meaning) and Ellen character being completely different from the 1922 and 1979 films (she’s a antithesis to them).

And how on earth someone sees these three adaptations (1922, 1979 and 2024) and thinks they are equal and this “sacrifice” has the same meaning is beyond me, honestly.

4) The “Sexy Vampire” Trope

Last but not least, we have to talk about the “Twilight”, “Vampire Diaries”, “True Blood”, etc. generation. Some probably heard “vampire” and “Bill Skarsgård” alongside with “obsession” and a female character involved, and were probably expecting something like this:

(That’s 2024 Count Orlok beneath the prosthetics, when he played another vampire)

Eggers truly catfished his audience into watching this film by not revealing how is his Orlok truly looked like. They did warn us Bill was covered in prosthetics and completely unrecognizable, but that flew over some people’s heads?

Personally, I loved the historical and folklore accurate Orlok Eggers created, but, indeed, many didn’t felt the same. I’m still hearing folks complaining about the freaking mustache when Gary Oldman as Dracula, in “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” (1992) also had one, but yeah, he was hot when he was with Mina (not his usual monstrous self, we also see in that movie) so the problem isn’t the mustache is it?

Of course not, it’s because he’s a freaking rotten corpse and he won’t make the list of the “sexiest vampires ever” in cinematic history. Because that’s not what Eggers was going for. We are suppose to see Orlok was handsome in life, but he’s still a walking corpse, because, shocker, that’s what vampires are.

And Eggers is forcing the audience to confront their own bias with all the necrophilia going on in this film: “you like vampire love stories? This is what you actually like.” Many didn’t like to be confronted with that. Which probably has Eggers laughing diabolically because that was his intention, which is why he brings “Twilight” in his interviews.

And then we have the magnificent love triangle “Twilight” style, too; Ellen is Bella, Thomas is Jacob and Orlok is freaking Edward Cullen. Someone said Eggers has balls of steel, and he truly does. And it’s actually amazing he didn’t cast Robert Pattinson in Count Orlok role (they already worked together in “The Lighthouse“, 2019). But Bill Skarsgård’s imposing height and previous cinematic experience (Pennywise in “It”) was probably more in line with what he wanted, and he absolutely nailed this role.

Although we could still see Bill’s face as Pennywise in “It” (beneath all that make-up), which isn’t the case as his Count Orlok, as he’s in full prosthetics.

This also means many will latch on to the “hot guy” in this demonic love triangle: Thomas, played masterfully by Nicholas Hoult.

Many didn’t see any love story between Ellen and Orlok because they were also expecting a Disney fairytale in a freaking horror film about demons and walking corpses, but I would argue that’s not Eggers fault nor an execution flaw. Ellen and Orlok are a demonic love story, they aren’t suppose to be rainbows and unicorns. Duh? Although, yeah, if the audience could actually see Bill Skarsgård, I have no doubt more would recognize this wicked/evil love story going between these two characters.

[iri-desky]

iri my dear, you seem to know something about this. what is happening with dream/the dsmp. did they restart or smt? did dream say something stupid again?

im gathering its a mix of both of those but i have no clue if they correlate or idek:

HELLOOO Soda my friend!! Longtime no see!!

Okay so. Tw slurs and grooming mention

So, at one point, on Tommy and Jack's podcast, Shut Up I'm Talking, Tommy offhandedly, jokingly mentioned he didn't like Mizkif. This got Tommy in a little argument with XQC on twt-- it really wasn't anything that bad, they were just firing insults at each other, and it was mostly pretty silly (mainly on Tommy's side. XQC was just being salty but Tommy was handling it like "haha cringe" trying not to provoke too much). And TOTALLY UNPROMPTED. WITHOUT WARNING. MIND YOU THE SITUATION HAD LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM. DREAM BARGES INTO THE THREAD AND PROCEEDS TO MAKE A MEME THAT SINGLEHANDEDLY CALLS TOMMY'S ENTIRE FANBASE THE R SLUR.

Literally. Now for obvious reasons people were outraged, and three hours later Dream comes back and claims that he doesn't understand the backlash by revealing in the weirdest way possible he actually doesn't just have adhd, and is also autistic (i add this comment every time I explain this; "uh, go off ig") and therefore can allegedly "reclaim it" (even though that's not how you reclaim slurs, and even then that specific word is so bad that even ND people want to kill it with fire).

Now obviously this set off a chain reaction of events and replies and people going nuts, including an asinine explanation post he made on reddit (now deleted, pictured below).

This went on up until recently, whereupon Tubbo decided to get involved and set up a stream with Dream to talk about it. Dream discussed a variety of things during the stream (here's a post that just outlines all the crap he said in a lighthearted way for your own sanity) but basically, dream victimized himself the whole stream (two or three hours) and basically kept on screwing himself by mentioning more and more insane crap that happened once upon I time?? To defend himself??? One of them actually involved confessing that he allowed p●rn to be shown in a vc involving minors back during smp era. What was he thinking. The most awful part is that he barely even mentioned the event that started this whole thing at all and just redirected all the attention to other things, which, unsurprisingly, just made him look WORSE.

Naturally, Twitter is going ballistic, which includes plenty of the old dsmp members and bloggers weighing in ("happy dsmp reunion everyone").

Friendly reminder that all of this could've been avoided if Dream didn't spontaneously stick his nose into an argument that didn't involve him in any way whatsoever.

TL;DR: yes, Dream said something very, very stupid again and Twitter is going insane. As time goes on and Dream tries to defend himself, he's SOMEHOW making all the moves that just make himself look much, much, MUCH worse.

Hope this helps 👍🏽👍🏽 !!

(I'll be marking this with all the usual tags, so if this helped anyone else understand the situation, feel free to like, reply, or reblog! I'm just happy to help)

[thebramblewood]

It seems like the seance ended happily... for now, at least.

Beginning / Previous / Next

Naomi: Ugh, let’s just get this over with.

Micah: Naomi! One must approach the spirits with patience and respectful intent. Right, Grandma?

Cassie: Now, Sadie, you can observe, but I’m afraid you can’t join the ritual. Your mothers would have my head if — God forbid — anything happened.

Sadie: Well, that sucks! Why am I even here if I only get to watch?

Micah: Oh my God, we did it!

Sadie: Hey, random ghost lady, that’s my chair!

Micah: What’s your name? Was this your house? When are you from? How did you-

Naomi: Uh, you might want to chill with the questions. She looks pretty angry.

Cassie: Micah, darling, if you don’t mind letting me steer this conversation, perhaps we should take it someplace more comfortable for our visitor.

We mean you no harm. We only wish to learn what’s keeping you here.

Temperance: If only I knew how to leave! The years have felt endless, so many days wasted calling out in vain, as my beautiful home crumbled around me. The loneliness soon became rage, which only hastened its destruction.

Micah: Can you tell us your name?

Temperance: Temperance.

Micah: Did something awful happen here?

Temperance: They said it was the plague. Took my entire family, one by one, before my very eyes! But it was no plague. It was a demon!

Naomi: A demon?

Micah: Naomi, shush!

Temperance: My baby, not even a year old, snatched by that nasty hooded man!

Naomi: Hooded m-

Temperance: Please, wind up that music box for me.

Micah: This music box?

Temperance: Yes. I’ve longed to hear it, the lullaby I used to sing to soothe my youngest child to sleep.

Naomi: Did the… demon come for you?

Temperance: I thought it was the grief. I wasted away in bed for God only knows how long. But in the end he took me too.

Naomi: I’m not sure that was a demon. I think-

Cassie: Naomi, let’s not cause any more upset.

Temperance: Thank you, my dear. It did my soul good to hear that tune.

Micah: Does that mean you’ll stop shutting off the lights… and leaving piles of ectoplasm…and moving creepy dolls around in the night?

Temperance: I’ll certainly try my best.

[nanenna]

“Then don’t,” Kon replied simply. He threw himself back into the grass, his legs getting thrown in the air before plopping back down to earth. He tucked one hand behind his head and used the other to point up at the sky. “See those three stars in a row?”

The person was silent for a moment before hesitantly answering, “Yeah?”

“That’s Orion’s belt. It’s one of the easiest constellations to find in the northern hemisphere.”

“Just those three stars?”

“Well those two are his shoulders and those two are his hips or knees or something,” Kon said conversationally as he pointed out said stars. “There’s more to it, but I can’t remember the rest.” He glanced over at his stargazing companion, they seemed just a little less see through, glowing a little bit brighter. Guess he did a good job distracting them. He went on to point out the big and little dipper, complete with Polaris. He didn’t know many of the constellations, just some of what Tim had taught him for navigating. Finding which way was north was really useful, if you can find north you can also find east and west.

Kon glanced over again to see his companion’s eyes had drifted closed, their face peaceful. That seemed weird, if they were already dreaming were they dreaming they were asleep?

Wait, were they getting more see-through?

Slowly, bit by bit, they were definitely getting more see through, until all that was left behind was a barely there indent in the grass. Kon put his hand to it and the grass felt cold, not cool, downright cold. The only hints that someone had been there at all. This was definitely something he needed to ask his team about.

Kon gave a jaw cracking yawn.

In the morning, this would be something to ask for advice on in the morning.

✦✧✦

The next time Kon saw his mystery visitor was early evening nearly a week later. He’d prepared for this, he’d memorised all the constellations visible this time of year, several star facts, and a list of information to try to get out of them. Currently they were sitting on a split rail fence, face turned towards the setting sun, feet gently kicking the air. It was odd, watching their feet swing. On the upswing they had a full leg: pants, toes, and all. On the downswing the leg faded to nothing shortly below the knee.

Kon intentionally made noise as he walked closer, not wanting to startle his guest. “Hello again,” he called gently as he approached.

The visitor turned slowly at his voice. Their eyes opened and blinked in surprise, then a smile lit up their face. Literally lit them up. Made them look just a bit more solid too, enough that Kon could guess they looked like a kid, somewhere in their early to mid teens. Maybe. Just because a lot of aliens looked similar to humans didn’t mean they aged the same.

Kon smiled back, both happy and sad to see them again. He leaned against the top of the fence one section down from his guest. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“Neither was I, but I guess I should've.” They laughed to themself a little at that, already turning to face the sun again, their face peaceful as they basked in the warm rays.

“My name’s Kon, by the way. Kon El, he/him.”

His guest hummed in acknowledgement, though his brows furrowed in confusion near the end. “He… him…?”

“Sure, makes it easier to refer to someone by their pronouns if they’re part of introductions.”

They turned to look Kon up and down in confusion. “... okay?” They turned back to their sunbathing, little that they would have left.

“... And what should I call you?” he eventually asked.

His guest huffed a quiet little laugh before replying, eyes still closed and face turned to the sun, “Danny.” Such a strangely human sounding name. Then again a lot of names sound pretty similar, there’s only so many ways a mouth like theirs can form sounds. After a moment they tacked on, “He/him.”

Kon wasn’t sure if they- if he just copied Kon’s pronouns or if those were his actual pronouns, but until he said otherwise that’s what he was. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny.”

“Nice to meet you too, Kon.”

Kon smiled and let the silence sit for a minute. So he finally had a name, though no family name. He wasn’t sure if one would help, but Tim insisted the more information they had the easier it would be to find where Danny was from and go help him, because anyone who was afraid of waking up, anyone who needed to run so badly he could only do it in his dreams absolutely needed help.

Now to just… find ways of getting that information out of Danny without scaring him off.

He watched for a bit as the sun touched the horizon, the sky changing colors and the golden light beginning to fade. Beside him Danny opened his eyes, the light no longer too bright to watch the show.

“I’ve missed this.”

Kon just nodded, unsure what to respond to a statement like that. Instead they sat in silence, enjoying the sunset until it became dark enough for the first stars to come out. Danny leaned back, slowly floating down until he was settled against the grass and staring up at the stars.

Kon joined him on the ground, staring up at the stars. “You like space, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Danny replied nonchalantly.

“You know which star is yours?”

“No.” He sounded sad as he said it.

Time for a distraction, “So I looked up Orion and I know the rest of the constellation now.” He pointed out the rest of the stars and what shape they made, then finally asked the next question. “What about your constellations?”

“What about them? I can’t show you, they’re not here.” Danny glared up at the sky as if he could move the stars around if he just thought at them hard enough.

“So draw them for me.” Kon pulled out a tablet from his jacket. He quickly turned it on and opened it to a simple art program. When he handed it over Danny stared down at the device with huge eyes.

“What’s this?”

“A tablet. It’s… it’s like a big phone, though it doesn’t have the call function like a phone does.”

“It’s a big phone without the actual phone?” Danny sounded confused, looking the whole thing over. “Where are the buttons?”

Kon laughed, then poked the screen. “Here, it’s touch screen.”

Danny’s face turned greenish, “Oh.”

“Guess our worlds have different tech.” 

Danny was already back to looking the device over, flipping it around and checking the thickness. “This is some real Star Trek shit.”

“Star Trek?”

Danny glanced over with another amused huff. “It's a show back home, really popular.”

Kon just nodded, something else to help them look, he guessed. He quickly ran through which buttons did what and helped Danny get started. Then he just sat and watched over Danny’s shoulder as he worked.

He started by filling the whole thing in black, then making a colorful smear across the canvas, then began putting white dots of various sizes all around. It was obvious he was very familiar with his own night sky, even going so far as to draw both hemispheres. He nudged a few of the stars this way and that, had to resize the canvas a few times to make room for everything, kept adding in more stars as he remembered them, and then did something Kon didn’t expect. Danny changed the color to a bright green and started writing.

While he wasn’t sure giving the names his planet called the stars would be helpful, a written script would really help narrow things down. Tim would eat this up!

“Oh, I guess names won’t help much,” Danny said after writing a few letters.

“Doesn’t stop me from being curious,” Kon said quickly.

Danny shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.” He handed the tablet back to Kon and went back to stargazing.

Kon quickly saved the picture, then sent it to Tim. Even a few letters or hieroglyphs or whatever would be helpful. Though… Kon squinted down at the start of the label for the Milky Way. It looked… kind of like the start of the word milk? Just loopy and the letters strung together? Odd. Probably just a coincidence, right? Pareidolia, he expects the word milk so he sees it.

So he tucked the tablet back away and starts pointing out other constellations. 

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, I've been meaning to make this post and I never make it, but I'm rewatching s1 and the thoughts are in my head so, what better time than now. Like, I made this point before but I never went into detail.

The thing with 911 and love interests and the way none of Buck and Eddie's love interests ever stood a chance, is because in order for you to make a relationship work on a tv show, you need to make sure your audience cares about both parts. Obviously, getting 2 mains together, madney or bathena, works very easily because both characters exist on their own, so you're already invested in all parties involved, it's a lot easier to make the relationship work because you don't need to spend time making people care about anyone individually, you're just making them care about the relationship. But then you have the issue of making people care about a relationship when one of the parties is only there to be a love interest.

So let's take Henren. For all intents and purposes, Karen only exists to be Hen's wife, so if they didn't put in the work Karen would be very whatever, because as viewers, our loyalty in most cases will be biased towards the character we see the most. And considering we are introduced to Henren already established, they are already married with a child, which another thing that makes people be less invested, not seeing how it happened, the odds are stacked against Karen, which is bad if the show ever decides to use the character more heavily. But the show introduces her in a perfect way to avoid that happening. For starters, we meet Eva first. And we meet Eva while Hen is making up problems that aren't really there because of the ghost of Eva. We have Athena state how bad for Hen Eva is, we have the conflict Hen herself is feeling, we have her lying by omission. And yes, the whole thing leads to something a lot of people view as unforgivable, cheating, but during that whole storyline, we are siding against Hen, because she is letting this idea of rescuing Eva is making her step out on her family, so we are taking Karen's pain, we are taking Karen's side, and that makes us care about Karen, and therefore we end up invested on them together. And something else is how this all happens while we are still getting to know Hen, so there aren't any preconceived notions of how a relationship for Hen should go.

And the show knows how to work that concept in, but when we are talking about love interests for both Buck and Eddie, is that every relationship is introduced with something that's gonna make us side with them and ignore the other person. Shannon never stood a chance because she was written to be fridged, but leaving Chris is an unforgivable act, Ali isn't around and she fundamentally can't handle who Buck is, Taylor is introduced as willing to hurt Buck's family, Ana isn't around and Eddie is literally panicking about that relationship and even before that, the Christopher of it all, him getting hurt, not wanting Eddie to date, makes it so we're not the biggest fans, Natalia was only interested in Buck's death and since we were watching the damage his death did to everyone, it makes it hard to root for them, Marisol just didn't exist for the audience at all, and Tommy's past plus the circumstances they get together aka Buck hurting Eddie makes it very 😬.

And all of these happened while Buck and Eddie's partnership is continuously shown as getting stronger, so the relationships are fighting against two main characters who have a strong relationship, so it is really hard to establish something that will replace the idea of Buck and Eddie because they're fighting against 7 seasons of partnership. The thing that makes buddie is time. It's everything that happened to them (I mean, the actual thing that makes them it is Christopher but that's a different post). So for a relationship to actually replace them, you need to separate them and then give the new relationship at least half the time buddie had to establish themselves. Audiences generally don't get invested in relationships they didn't see happening, and usually when it's this far into a show and there is another option of paring 2 main characters, it's really hard to make a character likable enough to replace that. People just generally don't end up caring for a character that only exists to be a love interest.

The show knows that, see the way Karen was introduced, so that makes the way they handle Buck, Eddie, and love interests that more pointed.

[tacitusk1llwhore]

I love looking at Red Dead content on YouTube because it’s just men of the fandom making what they think are amazing, wonderful realizations or giving what they think are hot takes that are really just stuff that the women of the fandom realized on their first playthrough because it’s obvious.

Be original please….like “Is Bill gay?” Yes, next question. “Was there a second rat?” No, next question. “When did Dutch go crazy?” He’s always been crazy, he is a master manipulator with a literal cult following…he didn’t go crazy because he hit his head, he went crazy because he was always like that, he could just rein it in better, next question, “Did Arthur love Abigail?” No, see my entire complex post written out explaining the farthest I think their relationship ever went when John was gone, next question…Like at the very least if you’re going to make these videos over topics that have been done to death add something literally anything of further substance. @pinkysberg made a whole hour long deep dive on Dutch’s mental state on their YouTube and it is one of the most glorious things I’ve ever watched, all of their content is amazing, they do these topics and don’t bring up the same tired talking points, they add something and they have never ever missed in their analysis.

This was meant to be a small post because I was looking for good Red Dead videos to watch while I crocheted, but all I was getting was dudebros making basic observations and Pinky’s videos that I’ve watched a million times over. I mean, I’m going to watch those videos again, obviously, but like the lack of media literacy in this fandom is just….abhorrent.

[lesbianherald]

Dude I agree with your season 2 takes so hard. Another thing that pissed me the hell off was how the 3 characters that were established as having suicidal thoughts all ended up sacrificing themselves at the end. Super cool! not fucked up at all!

BRO I KNOW 😭

I THINK ABOUT THAT ALL THE TIME. ALL THREE. OF THE SUICIDAL CHARACTERS. ALL THREE.

Not to be crass. This is obviously a serious subject. But like, it's so genuinely bizarre and thoughtless it actually makes me laugh. I think because there's nothing else I can do. It's ridiculous.

The messaging, specifically with Jinx, was fucking chilling, and the justification the writers used for it after made it worse?

Like, oh, Jinx needed to sacrifice herself so vi could be happy with cait like are you FUCKING . SERIOUS. LIKE DFKJSHDFKjlh WHAT TRAIN OF THOUGHT WOULD MAKE SOMEBODY THINK THAT LIKE?!?!? WHAT LOGIC ?! HAS ANYONE IN THAT ROOM BEEN A SISTER ?!!? DO THEY KNOW WHAT SIBLINGS ARE ?!?!

Unfathomable. unfathomable.

Very much with jinx it was like, people with mental health problems are disposable burdens type thing. point blank. it really read like that. The fucking breaking the cycle shit? I was like, surely, surely, this is going to be pushed back against and Vi is going to immediately go save her because clearly she's expressing suicidal thoughts and running away but then instead She has SEX IN HER SISTERS PRISON CELL LIKE EX FUCKINGKDSFH !L??!?!

Sorry. You got me started on something. Like. You just. You can't make this shit up. I literally can't believe we all saw that with our own eye balls.

I think Jayce and Viktor on their own was a really suitable and beautiful ending for both of them, to be honest. But in this context its incredibly bizarre.

All three. All three.

I CANT DUDE

[karak9]

oh this is fun sorry I didn't see it sooner!! I love ask games <3

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

primarily nonhuman! my plurality also intersects with my alterhumanity personally.

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

...how much time do you have?

tl;dr I'm a polymorph with a fluid identity so my list of kintypes is everchanging and vague. my primary kintypes are elf, dog, and currently deer but more in an archetype way than a super animalistic deer way, but not quite to the point of wanting to label it an archetrope thing! I tend to get identity flickers a lot but also some of my kintypes just gradually change over time. I'll always be elf and dog, though. most of my kintypes/morphtypes are animal but I have 1 fictotype and experience fiction flickers too.

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

yes, though not as often as I did when I first joined the community. my strangest shifts were orca (morphtype or kintype idk) and snake (cameo). imagining moving without limbs/legs is so weird lol. I've heard of people having tree/plant shifts and honestly??? I wanna try that.

my most common shifts are canine. I usually get phantom ears + tail whenever I think about them or sometimes randomly feel them when I'm particularly emotive lol.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

being a nonhuman freak <3

I'm a lil nonhuman with my partner altho he's not nonhuman himself but he totally gets me and we make animal noises at each other and he calls me his pup!

5/ What do you think of the community?

needs some work as pretty much all communities do, but pretty awesome otherwise. I really like how the community is progressing to becoming significantly less gatekeepy and elitist. more nonhumans having fun and playing with their identity please!!! less people shaming others for enjoying being nonhuman or not being nonhuman the """right""" way!!

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

incorporating my identity in fashion, kink, and whatever the term is for how I interact with others- aka I am very dog with my partner and friends. not all of them know I'm otherkin but I'm so thankful puppygirls are becoming more socially acceptable because it makes it a lot easier for me to express myself lol.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

rarely. it was REALLY bad as a teen but has calmed down a lot since growing more comfortable in my nonhumanity and my mental health/environment being better. maybe I lucked out there but man it was awful at the start.

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

if I could give a piece of advice to my younger self it would be: identity is a concept and there is no way to "prove" your experiences. it's literally made up. stop trying to mold yourself to fit a standard that wasn't made for you. just be your weird self.

nowadays I'm not sure if my advice would be different, I feel like a lot has changed in the attitude of the community towards newcomers over the years. I guess just be yourself, as cheesy as that is. there is no wrong way to be you, I promise. there ARE wrong ways you can use labels and if you screw up, that's 1000% okay!!! just be kind and listen to people if they offer you a piece of information you might've not had before.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

I have some collars and have had tails in the past but got rid of them when I moved. I'd love to make some more though! I have a pair of ears as well, and some puppygirl aesthetic clothing/shoes lol. I would love some more.

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

my personal origin theory is a mix of spiritual and psychological. I believe my kintypes are mostly past lives but the reason I connect with them in my current human life is due to being neglected as a child. I was raised around a lot of dogs so I latched onto them and began seeing myself as one of them from a very young age. I don't think I would have this many kintypes if I wasn't traumatized and mentally ill lmao. I do think I might've still been an elf though, because it's one of my 2 strongest kintypes despite not really having anything that influenced me towards it growing up like with canids. also I think my polymorphism is entirely because I have an unstable sense of self due to bpd/cptsd. might be partially caused by having lived many lives? and being plural.

idk who to tag bc I'm not active on tumblr I forget who is even on here lmao but pls do this if you see it!!! <3

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[dragonsoulage]

Dancing on top of the roof…

feat. Alucard

How haunted romantic could it be when the bloodthirsty gentleman of a vampire is asking the beautiful lady to dance under the moonlight? Two shadows caught up in a dark waltz of love.

Hello guys, Alucard was like my first…the first anime crush I ever had. So we all feel the feminine urge to just dance with a vampire on top of the roof under the stars, right? I have the feeling it would literally fix all my problems 💀👀 so here we are with a little cute story. Nothing really long since this was just a little idea, but stay tuned I have another Alucard story to tell ��

Wordcount: 976

Warnings: romantic and fluffy because sometimes my heart needs that ✨👌🏻

Thinking about Alucard and how much it probably would fix you when you dance with him on top of a roof in the middle of the night.

„Beautiful and eternal." you heard a cold voice appearing right behind you. You didn't even hear him to join you. Your gaze drifted from the beautiful starry night sky to the handsome, pale face of the vampire behind you.

Oh, was he beautiful. This face in perfect symmetry. These crimson eyes that gleamed through the curtain of thick raven hair that the wind made blow across his face. The imposing height, the whole aura he presented that seemed to be softer and more inviting when you were around. He had taken off his glasses and hat, simply looking at the woman in front of him.

„Indeed the sky is incredible tonight, just as you described." you agreed with him with a soft voice before you watched how a smile tugged on his lips. Endearing. So oblivious you were. „It was not the sky I was looking at, my dear." Alucard let you know, a subtle hint, that he talked about you when he joined you on the rooftop. Your expression faltered for a second, before you brushed back a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You were such a haunting beauty. You wore a white dress, looking like a historian vampire beauty, that ethereal glow of the moonlight right onto you. Making your skin glow, highlighted your perfect features. Your skin looking so invitingly smooth, yearning to be touched. Around your waist, a corset in a white beige color, with the strings hanging down. You reminded him of something he didn't want to give everyone.

You looked lovely, indeed, so lovely it made his cold vampire heart feel a little bubbly.

„You are a charmer, Alucard. But I still appreciate it. Thank you." you spoke lower, your voice carried through the slight cold wind on the rooftop. Before he then stepped closer, standing beside you, next to your smaller frame. His gaze now turned to the sky too.

„I may be, but what would life be without a little charm? And you deserve to he appreciated." he said with his silk like voice. His heart yearning for your attention and not even being shy about it.

„But you are right, the night is beautiful. I understand why you like to come here." he pointed out. For once, the calm and ethereal sense was more fascinating than the bloody beauty he usually carried with him.

So much blood about him, and yet he appreciated the other finer things in his undead being. Things like you, you captivated him with your own endearing charm, you didn't even know you possessed.

„It is calm here, the stars are eternal, they remind me of you." you let your words sink in. Before you heard the faint sound of a chuckle. Not many complimented him like this. No one ever compared him to the stars.

„They are eternal like you, always existing and shining brighter than any sun ever could with an admirable and softer glow I like so much more than the sun in the day. So...haunting but so bright." you added a little shy before you took your gaze from the sky looking at him and his crimson eyes met yours.

„You flatter me, much more than I thought. Being compared to something so...nice. Remarkable, my dear." he let you know. But before he or you could say anything, suddenly some music started to play.

A romantic but haunting melody of a classical song. Sweet and dark, just like the combination of you two. The music sounded like as if it was played from a gramophone. So old-fashioned, but so good.

Probably Walter was playing some and left his window open so you two could hear it on the top of the roof.

Alucard didn't even hesitate. Simply going after his instinct when it was about you.

With a curt bow and a hand he reached out to you, he spoke with a devoted voice. „Would you allow me this dance, my lady?"

Your heart beat faster, made a small jump before you nodded, and your delicate hand laid into his.

„I would love to." you replied before you were pulled close to his chest. Your hand laid on his shoulder and the other in his large hand. It was so romantic. Dancing on the rooftop under the star sky with the moonlight shining upon you.

„I need to admit it's quiet to the moment. Never thought I would dance on a rooftop with someone like you." you added when you felt how he guided you with safe steps over the straight part of the roofs. Effortlessly twirling you and catching your form. Making you gasp when you suddenly landed in his arms.

„Why not making this beautiful not more memorable? How should I not want to dance with the eternal beauty like you?" he asked you before you were picked up gently again. You two caught up in a waltz under the stars. With smooth movements just for yourselves. No one to see, no one to tell. Just for you and the vampire. You felt like it would fix everything that was happening right now. When you were caught up in his eyes, his face, the way his voice wrapped around you like silk. The way he made you feel so special.

No matter how bloody he could be how much he would kill, to you, he was soft, a true gentleman. A true vampire, that expressed his affection toward you, because who was in the position to make him feel light? Who made him feel a rush without having to hunt? It was you, only you. And you were all his under the moonlight right now....

[dykecubes]

I was a hardcore dream fan up until the point the initial grooming accusations (the stuff in from the “The Truth” video).

I think a lot of people call Dream fans a cult kind of like,,,,, either insultingly or hyperbolically. Like they aren’t really thinking that the group is cult-like, and are saying it just because of the extreme devotion to dream through controversies. As a former fan tho, my experience genuinely does feel somewhat cult-like to me (I don’t want to downplay real cults, but I don’t have another word).

Cults often target people who are lonely and vulnerable and offer them community in return for not questioning things. I joined the dream fan community a couple months into the pandemic. I was very lonely. I had depression that I had just started getting treatment for (literally one session and I was still unmedicated) at my college, before getting ripped away from my hope things were going to get better. I wasn’t out to my parents, so living at home again meant getting constantly misgendered.

in short, I wasn’t feeling great. And Dream- you have to understand how much of his fan community (at least on tumblr) is into the idea that he loves his fans, and he loves his friends. And getting to watch those friendships felt like living vicariously. And having someone tell me they loved me, even if I knew I was just another fan helped. For a long time during the pandemic, the dream team were the literal highlight of my day. They were often the reason I got out of bed. I knew even then that that wasn’t healthy, but I was having trouble figuring out how else to get through things.

even after going back to college after the first vaccine had come out, Dream (watching and re-watching videos, interacting with the community) remained a pillar of my mental health. Less so, but if I needed to calm down, I watched a dream video. A lot of my free time was spent in fan spaces. I really, really put him on a pedestal.

I cannot describe to you how anxious I was when the grooming allegations came out. I genuinely started feeling nauseous all the time. I was checking my phone obsessively. I’m not going back to look at these, but I remember that dream had some initial responses (long Reddit post and whatnot). There wasn’t enough there to really make anything clear/disproven and the girls looked like they had a lot of evidence, so I was still anxious and sick and feeling like I was waiting in limbo to find out what was really going on. Trying to prep myself to accept that things might not be what I hoped, as much as I didn’t want to believe it.

when I logged on, the vibe in my tumblr circle was… very different. A lot of people (except for a few that ended up leaving with me) were acting like everything was disproven and it was all good and we could go back to normal times, with a few posts about how disgusting it was that someone would fake something like that. My first response was, honestly, confusion. I thought that I must have been being stupid and missed something or not understood something. So I politely sent an ask to a big name in the community that I trusted to be smart and explain things well, saying that I wasn’t sure we had enough evidence to really dismiss the accusations and asking why she thought that everything was disproven. She gave me exactly the same information that I already knew, while calling me stupid and saying that if I didn’t believe dream that I should just get the fuck out.

I felt suddenly, unpleasantly woken up. I wasn’t being stupid or missing evidence that would fully exonerate dream (maybe there was evidence like that in “the truth”. I never watched it, couldn’t). They just wanted to believe Dream wasn’t guilty, so they did, and twisted things until that made sense. Because they wanted to feel excited and loved again, instead of the crushing anxiety and dread I was in. And I thought about my own reactions, and I knew that I had been so fucking anxious over someone I didn’t even know because secretly I also wanted Dream to be exonerated. I wanted to bury my head in the sand and pretend that it simply wasn’t true because of what being a dream fan gave to me: bits of happiness and community.

And I was really scared of myself. Because I wanted to not believe those girls, not because I thought I had evidence otherwise, but because it would make me feel better. And I knew that was really, really shitty, and that that was something I had to stop in its tracks. And that I NEEDED to not be as obsessive or put anyone on a pedestal as much again. Because I would do the same thing- wanting to make excuses to keep my own happiness. And that’s not ok.

I stopped following almost everyone overnight and stopped watching anything Dream-related cold turkey (<—I realize this probably sounds stupid but I genuinely watched so much dream stuff it was an actual change in my life). I’m still in the mcyt space, mostly hermitcraft, but I make sure that I never put anyone on a pedestal like that again, and I have a way healthier internet to real life ratio.

Coming out of that space genuinely felt like something I was grieving. The intensity of my emotions, both in it and coming out, wasn’t healthy, and I’m really glad I left. if I wasn’t faced with a situation where someone was potentially materially being hurt, I don’t know if it could have happened, I was so embroiled. For obvious reasons tho, that crossed a line and luckily on the other side I had people that were kind to me when I was still kinda reeling.

anyway, tldr, my hot take with this situation is that more dream fans wake up and realize he’s a piece of shit, and get grace and kindness while doing so. Sorry for how long this is- hopefully I get my point across that I genuinely believe that at least some dream fan spaces are intensely unhealthy, more than some people outside of them might consciously think

anon if I’m being honest with you this whole situation has me thinking a lot about this post from a while ago and at the moment, yes, it is frustrating seeing his fans deny the evidence right in front of them but I really can’t help but hold a level of sympathy for them

I was never really a hardcore dream stan but I was very adjacent to that community back when I still had Twitter and TikTok and spent a lot of time defending dream and his community whenever criticisms of him came up, I very much disliked the idea of calling dream stans a cult because I spent probably about 5 years or so of my life in stan communities on Twitter and I’m very much of the opinion that they get a bad rap, but it was around the time of his grooming allegations that I stopped defending him as well and came to understand what people meant when they called his community a cult

while I still don’t fully like using that word to describe his community because I know people who are survivors of cults and don’t want to downplay their severity, I will also say it’s alarming how easy it is to apply the BITE method to dream’s fanbase, especially information and thought control

that being said, even if it technically is not a cult it’s still a very intense community and it’s still difficult to get out of (speaking specifically on the way former dream stans are often bullied for leaving) and obviously the connection you’d have to such an intense community like that is going to be a serious emotional one so I understand why a lot of them might still be holding on

so I agree, I hope if fans of dream choose to leave his community they’re treated with grace and kindness

thank you for sharing, anon, I hope you’re doing well <3

[theswanqu22n]

— WIFI PROBLEMS.

fluff james patrick march fic.

summary: You stayed at the Hotel Cortez but you have problems with the WiFi.

credits to @vizjpmdose who gave me the inspiration thanks to one of her posts to write this.

You checked into the Hotel Cortez almost two hours ago, as you had been struggling with your laptop to keep connecting to the Wi-Fi connection. You had an urgent job due and you didn't want to get fired at all, but who are you going to ask for help with the wifi if the people at the front desk on the lobby looked old enough to understand, and the person named Liz at the front desk had just told you she went to get her nails done.

What a headache, and there you were again, clicking on the mouse to try to reconnect. Finally, tired, you got up from the small desk that the room you were staying in offered you and grabbed the phone that went straight line to the lobby. It took them maybe 2 minutes to respond; aren't they supposed to reply right away? What kind of service was this?.

You were surprised to hear that the person who answered was a man, his voice sounded strange and as if it were made of silk... if that explains it, nah, that was mid-atlantic accent for sure.

"hello?" The voice sounded like it was almost singing, but you completely ignored that and decided to get to the point.

"I've been trying to keep my internet connection but the signal is just bad...and very slow. I have to hand in a paperwork before 5pm and it's already 4pm! Please someone help with this." you said almost hoping not to sound desperate but to make it obvious that you are upset.

The person on the other end of the line seemed to be moving something on the phone as there was a lot of noise.

"hello?" You asked again, quite annoyed.

"I'm sorry...Miss..., Shall I know which room you'r staying in?" He asked sounding nervous.

10 minutes passed when all you could see was a tall guy with well-combed black hair and a strange mustache that looked like Mr. Gomez from the Addams Family, and a black tuxedo...and his pale skin stood out a lot.

"It's a...real shame ma'am, my employees do everything except work" He let out a nervous chuckle that marked his dimples, his boba pearl eyes quickly scanning around your room. "James Patrick March, the...owner of the hotel." He introduced himself giving a small bow which you just ignored.

"...Y/N" you introduced yourself too, and waved your hand for him to come in, he looked you almost directly in the eyes when he stepped a foot inside your room.

"Heh...so, what do you say the problem is?" he asked nervously, you could even notice some sweat on his forehead. You raised your eyebrows and walked over to the small wifi device that was connected to the nightstand next to your bed, and you could see how James' eyes were completely wide open...as if he had seen a ghost himself...

"This, my laptop keeps disconnecting and at this point I'm getting desperate" you said annoyed, you needed a solution and to be honest... it seemed like he didn't even know.

"Yes, but what is that... little device you're pointing out to me? The lamp?" he asked, coming closer while still smiling. His smile looked so forced that you didn't hesitate to arch a eyebrow.

"No, it's the...wifi" you said, clarifying as if you hadn't said at the beginning that this was your problem.

"Ah! You new generation, these jokes nowadays..." He smiled looking away almost looking for an escape.

"No! Damn it I need you to fix the wifi connection before 5pm or I'll give you one fucking star because I already have enough with the amount of flies that wanted to get in through the window!" You raised your voice, you really didn't want to, but your job would be in serious trouble if you didn't send in your paperwork.

The man leaned his head back, opening his eyes wider and stopping smiling. He literally looked scared... Was the man scared of a living creature Or maybe because the man had no idea what you were asking of him.

"Explain the situation to me again, let's not get...excited, shall we?" He offered you some calm again, to which you sighed and looked away, biting the inside of your cheek, and then began to explain again.

You noticed how his hands remained at his sides, offering you the view of his veins that were surely more exalted from his nerves.

"I have some paperwork due for work before 5pm, it's already..." you looked up at the locked screen of your laptop where the time was displayed. "4:20pm...and the wifi isn't working at all, it keeps disconnecting or even running slow, can you fix it?"

James kept looking at you with that awkward smile and his eyes wide open, like he was zooming out. He took a deep gulp and then said.

"I'll look for Miss Evers to resolve the situation...I'll be right back."

And then he quickly walked out of the room, literally running away from you, leaving you believing that he would solve this.

Not knowing that Miss Evers is also an entity from decades ago that lives under the same rock and is... his maid. How would she know that?.

[filmnings]

firstly,, THIS WAS SO GOOD. like i’m blow away. the fact that she was so against him, fought against him and every urge she had for him tooth and nail but relented in the end and made her feel sick… i love the characterization so bad. like damn i felt like i was getting gaslighted reading it, couldn’t even imagine how she felt. like he literally showed up at her door after she was hiding from him!!! talk about crazy. and that friend who gave out where she lives WILL be dealt with.

your writing is so pretty and i still can’t get over that ending line. it’s like,,, he’s so perfect and does all these things for her and says all these sweet words and is the perfect image of perfection yet she knows what the truth is when the gilded mirror shatters and she get a look at his blooded and bruised body. top tier writing and characterization!!!!!

hehe now into the live reading reactions! (◕ᴥ◕)

“There’s only one person who would ever show up at your door this late at night, and you’ve done everything you possibly could to avoid him for the past four months.” immediately i’m calling the cops.

“You hadn’t told him your new address, hadn’t spoken to him since the day you packed up your daughter and what little you had and left him, never looking back.” STALKER???? omg how did he even find her

“The knocking only gets louder and more aggressive to the point that you begin to worry that he’ll wake the baby.” if he wakes the baby i’m pulling out my bazooka and showing him a real bang

“blood drips into his bruised, swollen eye from a large cut on his forehead, just barely visible behind his wet hair sticking to his skin.” giggles and kicks feet—WAIT NO. sighs i love when they’re bruised and bloodied and miserable it makes them 10x hotter

“Don’t fucking call me that, Christopher. Answer my question.” OOOOOOOOOO NOT CHRISTOPHER

“You had a sneaking suspicion of just exactly where he had gotten that money from” MONEY TALKS~~~ DIRTY CASH I WANT YOUU DIRTY CASH I NEED YOU~~~~

“Who told you where I live.” “…A friend. Please, just take it.” that friend has 5 seconds to show themself before i light up the whole world

“You slide submissively to the side, open the creaking door open further for him to step into your living room.” i fear id let him in too

“I just want to see my baby girl.” excuse me you heathen????? you troglodyte??????????

“Something warm and heady swirls in your gut, unwelcome but in no way unpleasant.” she’s thinking about having his kid again LMAOOO me too

“I’ve been looking for you two for months. How am I supposed to keep you safe, my baby safe? I had to track my family down like dogs. What kind of mother keeps a father away from their child?” oh bitch please gtfo.

“She’s not your fucking baby, Chris! That’s my baby. Mine. You made that call before she was even born. You’re not her family, you’re hardly even her father— you’re nothing to her.” EXACTLYY!!! tell him!!!!

“You scoff. “If you really care that much about “our future”, you would have stopped this. Fighting for these clubs. The racing, the gangs. You would have listened to me and left it all behind, gotten a real job. Show me that you actually give a shit and aren’t just blowing smoke up my ass. You’re addicted to this, all of it. It’s sick.”” TELL HIMMMMM!!!!!!

“”Get out.” Surprisingly, he does. He takes one last long look at your fussing daughter before slowly turning and shuffling out of the nursery.” AND DONT COME BACK!!!!!!! (please do)

“All the muddy shoeprints and puddles of rainwater.” THE ASSHOLE DIDNT EVEN TAKE HIS SHOES OFF??????

“I know you still love me.” Chan professes boldly, a wild spark in his eye. “I know you do, baby— you know I love you too. More than anything. Why won’t you let this— us—work? Why are you trying to run away from me?” hehehehehe id fold like a fucking lawn chair LIKE…. “i know you do, baby” FOLDED.

“I’ve missed you so bad… please, baby, don’t ever leave me like that again.” GODDDDD keep begging

“Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in Chan’s affection, preen under his loving gaze and delight in the way he cradles you as if you were made of glass— you feel so precious yet so fragile, yielding to a man strong enough to shatter you completely, leave you nothing but a pile of dust and broken shards.” this paragraph. woah.

“All you can think of is how passionately Chan devoured you, the force of his kiss almost punishing, like a soldering heat that bonds metal. Yet it felt like anything but a punishment, doused in a honeyed sweetness that called to you like a drug, dragged you under the waves of dreamy tenderness, filled your head with thoughts of how good it would feel to let yourself drown.” YEAHHHHHHH, also, this last sentence oh my god

“Come on, say it. Say you want me.” AHHHHHH

“C’mon, tell Daddy how badly you missed this.” i was just found dead. DADDY KINK LOVERS!!!!!!!!!

““Tell me you love me.” Chan grunts abruptly” OH????

“You feel weightless, floating, satisfied… and that makes you feel sick.” THIS ENDING LINEEEEEEE.

THIS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD HELLO??!??!!!

𝓑US𝓣 𝓨𝓞UR 𝓚N𝓔𝓔 𝓒A𝓟S 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 방찬

you can't seem to get away from your ex husband, no matter how hard you try.

⧼ 🩹 ⧽ 一 𝓹a𝓲r𝓲n𝓰 ⸝⸝⸝ ex husband!bang chan 𝓍 fem!reader 𝓲nc𝓵u𝓭e𝓼 ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ unnamed oc daughter

𝓰e𝓷𝓻e ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ non-idol au, smut, angst, porn with plot

𝔀arn𝓲n𝓰𝓼 ⸝⸝⸝ dubcon, street fighter and underground boxer!chan, criminal!chan, mentions of jail and gangs, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, toxic and possessive behavior, toxic ex!chan, manipulation, explicit language and sexual content, soft dom!chan, degredation and praise kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampies, dirty talk, breeding kink, impregnation mentions, clit slapping, daddy kink, squirting 𝔀𝓸r𝓭 c𝓸un𝓽. 6. 2 k | ⧼ 🥊 ⧽ 一 𝓽𝓸 𝓵i𝓫rar𝔂.

♫ 𝓫u𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸ur 𝓴nee ca𝓹𝓼 ❪ 𝓳o𝓱nn𝔂 𝓭on'𝓽 𝓵eave 𝓶e ❫ 一 𝓹𝓸m𝓹𝓵am𝓸𝓸𝓼e

[n𝓸𝓽e𝓼.] my first fic on my new blog! something shorter to start out with <3 this took me a little too long to write i'm afraid since it's my first go at angst themes but i'm pretty proud of how this turned out! this isn't proofread, so please lmk if there are any mistakes! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

THE KNOCK ON THE door makes your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, cutting through the peaceful quiet of your kitchen like a knife. You drop the pot you were scrubbing in shock, clanging loudly as you grip the edges of the sink in a futile attempt to calm the pounding of your heart. At first you think— hope— that you were simply just hearing things, your little skyline apartment falling back into an uncertain silence sprinkled with the pouring rain outside, an atmosphere that no longer felt comfortable. But the knocking starts again, loud enough to be mistaken as thunder, ringing in your ears like alarm bells. You nearly jump out of your skin, your hands shaking as they reach out to turn off the water faucet. There’s only one person who would ever show up at your door this late at night, and you’ve done everything you possibly could to avoid him for the past four months.

It couldn’t possibly be him. It had to be someone else, your landlord or a neighbor or a maintenance man or anyone. You hadn’t told him your new address, hadn’t spoken to him since the day you packed up your daughter and what little you had and left him, never looking back. But you hadn’t called for maintenance, and you hadn’t heard from your landlord, and the way that his fist beat on the door as if it had somehow offended him was unmistakable.

You consider, for a split, mindless moment, that you could simply ignore him. He’s just a man, after all— a weak, spineless one at that, underneath that intimidating façade he loves to hide behind. He’ll give up and leave eventually, you try to convince yourself, but you know him far too well to fall into that blind hope. The knocking only gets louder and more aggressive to the point that you begin to worry that he’ll wake the baby.

The thought alone is enough to get your blood boiling, a red-hot anger overtaking any amount of fear or trepidation that kept you back. You refused to let this coward affect your daughter, wake her up without a single thought or care when you had just spent hours gently rocking her to sleep. Not after everything you’ve went through to keep him away from her.

You hurl the sponge into the sink with a scowl before spinning around and storming to the door. You wrench it open mid-knock, leaving the man on the other side of it standing there with his fist outstretched and blinking at you owlishly.

The sight of him shocks you to your core, despite how much you had tried to prepare yourself— blood drips into his bruised, swollen eye from a large cut on his forehead, just barely visible behind his wet hair sticking to his skin. The rain washes it away, down his chin to drip onto your welcome mat, staining it a faded red in the outline of his scuffed sneakers. He’s drenched down to the bone, the sharp ridges of his pecs and abs visible through his white tee shirt, the thin dark jacket he had draped across his shoulders doing little to protect him from the ever-worsening downpour. His dominant hand he curls protectively against his bloody abdomen; the knuckles are busted, and his pinky finger is twisted unnaturally to the side.

You look back up to his face just in time for him to flash you a weak, wobbly smile, a wounded ghost of the ones that used to send your heart soaring and fill your stomach with butterflies. His plump bottom lip is split down the middle, a jagged crater that threatens to open even further with every movement he made.

“Hey.” he croons, dropping his fist to his side, pained little smile dropping into more of a wince.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” you hiss venomously, praying to any god that would listen that he couldn’t tell how badly you were shaking. “How the fuck did you get my address? Go away before I call the cops. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“Come on, baby, wait—” you try to slam the door shut, but he catches it with ease, and even one-handed he’s stronger than you could ever hope to be.

“Don’t fucking call me that, Christopher. Answer my question.” You sneer, biting back hot, painful tears.

If any of your words hurt him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he extends his wounded hand, prying open his fingers with some effort to present you a bloody, crumpled wad of bills.

“For her.” He says simply.

Your eyes rake over the bills as if they were alien, hardly able to muster up the breath needed to scoff at him incredulously. “I don’t want your dirty money.”

You had a sneaking suspicion of just exactly where he had gotten that money from, it was written all over his busted, bleeding face— under no circumstances would you line your pockets with the bettings from street fights, feed and clothe your daughter with money that people had shed blood for. You had told him this when you had left him, given him the choice to leave it all behind or lose everything.

He chose the streets, and you kept your promise.

Yet you don’t have the strength to slam the door in his face, no matter how much you ached with the desire. Chan keeps the bills outstretched, the blood-smeared faces printed on them winking up at you, taunting you.

“Who told you where I live.”

“…A friend. Please, just take it.” He whispers, just short of begging. “I know how badly you need it. He told me you were struggling.”

“You don’t know anything.” you spit, but there’s no fire behind your words anymore. The rain has put it out, left you defeated, feeling betrayed, admiring how the streaks of lightning illuminate Chan’s hunched over silhouette. Your mind wracks itself for whichever one of his goons could have possibly caught sight of you, but you come up empty. You fear he may have found you through an inside source.

 Thunder booms in the distance, much like your heart. The helpless, desperate look in Chan’s big brown eyes sends the rest of your defenses crumbling to dust.

he tries to shuffle his way inside, and you let him— everything inside of you yells at you to stop him, shove him away and close the door, never to look at him again. But you don’t. You slide submissively to the side, open the creaking door open further for him to step into your living room. No matter how hard you try to convince your muscles to move or your mouth to open and retort, all you can do is stand frozen by the door, watching with wide eyes as he drips blood onto the carpet.

He tosses the stack of cash onto the coffee table, the bills unfurling and flying everywhere. You count sixty, maybe seventy thousand won, all those zeroes staring up at you as your mouth goes agape.

You had been losing sleep for days over having to tell your landlord that you would be late on rent for the third time this year. Somehow, you feel like Chris knows that, though it was impossible to tell how— it brought you back to all the times before where you swore that he could read your mind.

It seems that he still could, even out in those dark alleyways, on the other side of the city. Tethered to him. Just what you were afraid of.

“You’re getting blood everywhere,” you finally manage to say, your usually strong voice timid and weak. “at least let me clean you up.”

Mindlessly, you scamper back to your kitchen, bending down to rummage through the cabinet beneath the sink. your first aid kit was still in there somewhere, hidden behind a mountain of cleaning supplies and spare bottles, something from your old life that you had held on to just in case. It was as if you were moving in a trance, just sheer muscle memory, the situation all too familiar; you couldn’t count the amount of times Chan had come home just like this before, back when you were still together, beaten and staggering but grinning victoriously as you carefully clean and bandage him up. It used to excite you, even, in some sick, dark way. He never lost a fight.

But that was before you had gotten pregnant. Before the danger that lurked beneath the surface of your husband’s lifestyle creeped up on you and became all too real.

“I’m fine.” Chan replies gruffly, though the pain in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just want to see my baby girl.”

Your fingers freeze around the first aid kit, all the heat and color draining from your face. “You’re not seeing her.”

“You can’t keep me from her.” Chan replies coldly. “She’s my daughter, too.”

You jump to your feet so fast that your vision goes fuzzy, spinning around to watch with wild eyes as he balances his good hand on the wall and limps his way to the nursery. You hate how he still remembers where it is.

He smears a trail of blood across your tattered wallpaper. The sight of it shocks you into action.

“You get away from her!” You snarl, nearly leaping across the dining table to grab onto the sleeve of Chan’s jacket. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near her!”

He shoves you off effortlessly, his sheer strength nearly sending you flying back against the wall. “Stop acting like I’m going to hurt her.” He growls, making it to the nursery door in the time it takes for you to regain your senses. “You know I’d never let anyone lay a single fucking finger on her.”

He quietly cracks the door open and steps inside, leaving you to follow him biting your tongue— you can’t bear the thought of her waking up, especially now with Chan in the room. She hasn’t seen her father since she was born, and that was only because he had forced his way inside of the delivery room. He was essentially a stranger to her.

And, quite frankly, how she might react if she lays eyes on him again scares the shit out of you.

Chan staggers to the crib, quiet as a mouse, his large frame bending over the railings to look down into it. Your daughter lay on the mattress peacefully asleep, her little chest rising and falling with her soft, steady breaths. You’ve stared at her for hours before, studying every freckle, every wispy eyelash that brushed against her rosy, round cheeks. The way her nose is already starting to look like her father’s, his dimples forming around the upturned corners of her dainty little lips, always giving the impression that she was enjoying her dreams. Whatever they were, you took some comfort in knowing that they were, they’re better than what waits for her when she opens her eyes.  

Chan is nothing short of entranced, grabbing ahold of the crib’s railings with both hands, so tightly that his cracked knuckles were threatening to split back open. He gazes at her sleeping little form with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before— a fire burning, but not one that hurt or destroyed. Not anything like the fire in his eyes you were used to. It was one that warmed and protected, the watchful, dutiful stare of a weathered knight in armor.

Something warm and heady swirls in your gut, unwelcome but in no way unpleasant. You fixate on his face, unable to look away, and watch awe-stricken as your ex-husband refamiliarizes himself with his daughter’s face.

“She’s grown.” He whispers, undoubtedly able to feel you breathing over his shoulder. His voice is flat and lifeless, but it starts to break at the end— he blinks hard, and you swear for a second that you saw his eyes shiny with tears.

“Oh, she’s a monster.” You reply easily, the rampant emotions swirling around in your head calming down at the sight of your baby peacefully sleeping. Talking about her is soothing, almost therapeutic. “Always hungry. The doctor says she’ll be nearly nine kilograms by the time she’s six months.”

“My little girl… she was so tiny in my arms…” Chan laments, lowering his eyes to look down at his hands. It was like he was looking at someone else’s, shocked by the dirty, bloodied state of them. He suddenly wrenches them from the railings and shoves them in his soaked jacket pockets, the act causing him to grimace with pain. In the peripherals of your vision, you see faint bloody fingerprints smeared across the white wood.

You struggle to keep your voice calm. “She’s gotten so big so fast… it feels like that day was just yesterday.”

Chan’s gaze hardens and grows cold again, his head spinning to stare you down with an ironclad sharpness. “Not to me!” he spits, gritting his jaw. “Not when you wouldn’t let me ever fucking see her, wouldn’t tell me where you were, how you were doing. I’ve been looking for you two for months. How am I supposed to keep you safe, my baby safe? I had to track my family down like dogs. What kind of mother keeps a father away from their child?”

Your shoddy mask of calmness cracks, red hot anger flaring back up again and rising to the surface. Your voice trembles terribly, but the disgust in your words is palpable. “She’s not your fucking baby, Chris! That’s my baby. Mine. You made that call before she was even born. You’re not her family, you’re hardly even her father— you’re nothing to her.”

The last comment strikes a chord within him. He stalks towards you, his dark eyes boring into yours, all that stormy emotion churning in them focusing directly onto you. Chan isn’t exceptionally tall, but you feel so incredibly small underneath him; he looms over you like some kind of predator, his lip curling back into a nasty snarl. “I’m nothing to her because you made it that way.” He seethes, his deep voice growing louder and louder. “Don’t you ever try to put it in my baby’s head that I don’t love her. Stop trying to convince yourself, for fuck’s sake— you both are absolutely everything to me, you know that. Everything that I do is for our future.”

You scoff. “If you really care that much about “our future”, you would have stopped this. Fighting for these clubs. The racing, the gangs. You would have listened to me and left it all behind, gotten a real job. Show me that you actually give a shit and aren’t just blowing smoke up my ass. You’re addicted to this, all of it. It’s sick.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Chan sneers, shoving his face up against yours. “You just can’t get it into your dumb, pretty little head. What kind of “real job” is gonna take an ex-con? Even if they do, I wouldn’t make nearly as much money as I can out on the streets. All I want to do is provide for you and our daughter; can’t you see that? I’m doing what I have to do to survive. My own future is fucking ruined. You two are all I have left.”

“And you’ll ruin ours too!” you laugh incredulously, directly in his face. “With all your blood money and all the enemies you make. You’re going to get arrested and locked up again, destroy mine and my daughter’s lives— fuck, you’ll get us all fucking killed! What if someone you beat wants revenge?! These are dangerous people, Chris!”

“That’s what I’m trying to protect you from!!” Chan roars, slamming his fist against the crib’s guardrail. His voice and the loud thump startles you, all three of you— you and Chan both peer down into the crib to see your daughter’s peaceful sleeping face screw up, her mouth opening to let out a shrill wail as she kicks out her little chubby legs.

Chan’s face falls, all the bitterness and anger leaving his body in a rush, like he had a bucket of cold water poured over the head. He looks the part, anyway, still dripping wet from the rain, tearing his eyes away from your own to stare down at your daughter as if she were a ghost. Your rage overtakes you to the point it can no longer contain it, your entire body shaking as you manage to grit out two icy words;

“Get out.”

Surprisingly, he does. He takes one last long look at your fussing daughter before slowly turning and shuffling out of the nursery.  Your eyes bore holes into his back as he retreats, expecting him to turn around at any moment with some more nasty words to sling your way… but he never does. He stays completely silent as he shoulders open the door, doesn’t even turn to look back at you as it clicks shut behind him.

Part of you wants to follow him, chase him out snarling and snapping like some guard dog, but your daughter’s frightened little cries tug painfully at your heart strings. Tears of your own pool in your eyes as you carefully lift her out of her cot and snuggle her against your chest, soothing your hand down her quivering back as she hiccups into your sweater. “Shhh, it’s okay… you’re safe, Mommy’s got you…”

You rock her until she falls asleep again, fighting the entire time not to break out into sobs yourself, and when you finally place her back down into her crib and slip out of the nursery, you’re not at all surprised to see Chan still in your apartment, hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands.

Your apartment looks like a fucking crime scene. For the first time tonight you’re able to take everything in, all the blood dripped on the floor and smeared on the walls. All the muddy shoeprints and puddles of rainwater. The cabinets under the sink are still swung open, your first aid kit left forgotten on the kitchen floor.

You don’t have the energy to be mad at Chan anymore, your gaze lingering back on his weathered frame. You don’t have the energy to feel anything except empty. Depleted.

Wordlessly, you pick the first aid kit off the floor and make your way to Chan. He lets you cup his face without a fight, raise it out of his hands so you can dab an alcohol pad against the cut on his forehead. The sting makes him wince, but he doesn’t try to move away, looking up at you with eyes full of stars as you wipe away the dried blood from his skin. The dim lamp by the couch cast dark shadows across his handsome face, bathing him in a sensual, intimate light. You can’t bear to look back into them, the way they make your heart twist painfully in your chest, deep chocolate brown so effortless to get lost in. You busy yourself with bandaging up his forehead, and then his lip, and then his busted hand.

“Why are you doing this?” Chan whispers softly, the question making you stop in your tracks.

“I… don’t know.” You admit after a long pause. You do it without thinking, just like when he first stepped inside. Your natural response after seeing him hurt so many times before, playing nurse while he boasts to you about his triumphs, fills you with empty promises and proclamations of love. Your hero, swearing to you that you were his savior. Everything in you still aches to soothe him, heal his wounds and numb his pain, be his guardian angel like you used to be before his suffering became your own.

If he were addicted to the fighting, you would be addicted to what came after.

“I know you still love me.” Chan professes boldly, a wild spark in his eye. “I know you do, baby— you know I love you too. More than anything. Why won’t you let this— us—work? Why are you trying to run away from me?”

Your fingers pause in the middle of wrapping up his knuckles in gauze, quivering slightly as you let out an agonized sigh. “It’s not about whenever or not I love you, Chris. I have to put our daughter first. I have to make sure she’ll be safe and happy.”

You barely manage to finish bandaging up his hand, your knotting work far from the best. The minute you let go of him he pulls you right back, his big hands enveloping yours and squeezing tightly. “She will be, I promise. I’ll keep both of you safe, never let anything happen to either of you— I’ve got the means to keep you protected no matter what happens. You’re my everything… I’m so lost without you.”

His bandaged hand slides up to caress your cheek, his skin so bitterly cold. “Channie…” you warn, but you’re the weakest you’ve been all night. Chan can see it in your eyes.

“I was so fucking worried about you.” He continues softly, hushed like he was kneeling for confession. “I’ve missed you so bad… please, baby, don’t ever leave me like that again.”

Breaking feels a lot like letting go. Dropping all your fear and worry, any semblance of rational thought to finally allow yourself to nuzzle into Chan’s touch. He knows you too well, always knows exactly what to say to get your walls to come crashing down, what to do to when the smoke clears and you’re left defenseless amongst the rubble. Because, underneath all the piling resentment and hatred, the divorce, the distance you’ve been fighting for, you truly do still love him. You fear you always will.

Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in Chan’s affection, preen under his loving gaze and delight in the way he cradles you as if you were made of glass— you feel so precious yet so fragile, yielding to a man strong enough to shatter you completely, leave you nothing but a pile of dust and broken shards.

You’ve never felt safer.

“God, you’re so pretty…” he whispers awestruck, under his breath almost as if he were talking to himself. His thumb maps out the curve of your cheekbone, down, down, down to your pliant, pouting lips. The pad of it is hardened and calloused, rough against the soft skin of your bottom lip, but the sensation leaves you aching for more; you open your eyes to bat your eyelashes up at him, open your mouth to invite his thumb to creep inside.

The flash of carnal, animalistic lust in his eyes sends a wave of liquid fire coursing through you, down your spine to where it pools heavy in your belly. You purse your lips around his thumb and suck it in deeper, hollowing your cheeks as if you were sucking on something else entirely. Chan groans deep in his chest, his other fingers curling tight around your chin to pull you towards him. “Fuck. Come here, babygirl.”

You surge forward to capture your lips with his, and he meets you halfway; the pillow softness of his lips are hauntingly familiar against yours, yet somehow they feel completely brand new, like uncharted territory in a land you’ve ventured in countless times before. Any chastity is quickly tossed to the side with the heady sensation of his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, the warmth in your belly heightening into a wild swirl. You’re shocked by your own eager response, opening up immediately to let him ravish your mouth with a forceful domination that left you weak. He pulls you effortlessly onto his lap, your legs spreading to wrap instinctively around his waist, the closeness of your bodies maddening. Your blood pounded in your ears, leapt from your heart with a scalding fire, and made your body tremble, senses reeling as if you had short-circuited. Clashing emotions whirled around in your head, but your consciousness had left you the minute your lips made contact with his. All you can think of is how passionately Chan devoured you, the force of his kiss almost punishing, like a soldering heat that bonds metal. Yet it felt like anything but a punishment, doused in a honeyed sweetness that called to you like a drug, dragged you under the waves of dreamy tenderness, filled your head with thoughts of how good it would feel to let yourself drown.

You kiss him back with reckless abandon, hands reaching out to hold him, anywhere you possibly can— the wispy hairs at the base of his neck, the worn leather of his jacket, the grooves of his defined muscles through the fabric of his wet tee shirt. He crushes you against him, swallows you within his big beefy arms, one of his hands running down the small of your waist to grab a fat handful of your ass. You gasp against his mouth as his touches grow bolder, massaging the globes of your ass and guiding your hips to glide against his. The outline of his half-hard cock pokes at you through his jeans, growing thicker and stiffer with every passing second, pressed perfectly against the curve of your cunt. Your sleep pants are thin enough to where it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all, and when Chan cants his hips up his bulge grinds right against your clit. He does it again, and again, until you’re squirming helplessly against him, panting and moaning into his mouth.

“Chan, we can’t do this…” you manage to stutter out between kisses, the reality of the situation finally beginning to dawn on you again. But Chan ignores your plea, his lips leaving yours to sear a path down your neck and shoulders. He nibbles at your skin, kisses the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat, distracting you enough to slide one of his hands to cup your pussy.

“Yes we can.” He croons against your heated skin, hot tongue escaping between his lips to lick a tantalizing stripe up your neck. “I can feel how wet this pussy is, baby, how needy you are for me. Just let me in, princess, let me take care of you…”

He slides his fingers down your covered slit, your clothes sticking to your mound with your sopping juices, drenched to the point you can’t possibly hide your arousal. Your engorged clit aches, empty hole clenches around nothing… you whimper pathetically in defeat.

“Come on, say it. Say you want me.”

You really were nothing but an addict. Addicted to the power he holds over you.

“fuck, oh f-fuck— right there!”

Chan knows every single spot inside of you to make you scream, his thick cock hitting each one expertly with each of his powerful thrusts. The angle he has you bent in makes you see stars, his big rough hands clasped tight around your ankles to push your legs up against your chest and spread you wide open— he’s never fucked you this roughly before, his feet planted on the mattress to pound into you animalistically, but even then there’s still a bitter tenderness to the way he holds you up against him, gazes down at you in rapture as you fall apart beneath him.

“Yeah? Right there?” He coos, deep Aussie accent dripping with poisoned honey, “Feel me all the way in your tummy, baby? Feel this fat cock splitting you open? Fuck, you’re so tight, sucking me in. Greedy little cunt.” He lets go of one of your ankles to press down on the bulge he’s made in your belly, your trembling leg curling over his shoulder in ecstasy as the pressure in your core increases.

“So deep!” you hiccup stupidly in reply, fisting the sheets as your world explodes and shatters behind your eyelids. His bulbous cockhead slams repeatedly against your cervix in a punishing rhythm, so deep inside of you that you mindlessly fear that he’s pushed through and was fucking your womb. “Deep! S-so fucking big!”

Chan growls like a beast, his efforts doubling in speed and intensity, “Missed this cock, didn’t you, princess? God, listen to how fucking wet you are. Hear how badly this cunt needed me?”

He emphasizes his claim with a particularly harsh thrust, your pussy squelching obscenely around him and filling your dark, quiet bedroom with loud, filthy noises. “C’mon, tell Daddy how badly you missed this.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you worry that you’ll wake up the baby again. Chan fucks you loudly and shamelessly, like he doesn’t care that your daughter sleeps in the room just across the hall... the thought reignites your anger.  You want to accost him, defy him, tell him that you didn’t miss him at all. That you weren’t desperate for him to make you cum and finally leave you satisfied after months of frustration. That you didn’t think of him at night when you played with yourself, or when you took another man to your bed, because as much as it agonizes you no other man has ever made you feel as good as he does. But you couldn’t string the words together, could hardly even think with how pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being. Besides, Chan knows when you’re lying.

“M-missed your c-cock,” you admit between whimpers and moans, your face burning with shame and arousal. “M-missed Daddy’s cock so fucking much, needed it so bad— oh, fuck, Chris, Daddy, please—!”

Chan snatches your hips and tugs you roughly towards him, lifting your bottom half up off the bed to fuck into you impossibly deeper. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of sweet agony, arching your back and tossing your head against the pillows. The show of sheer strength gets you impossibly wetter, your juices coating his heavy balls as they clap wetly against your ass. “Good pussy.” He grunts, his fingers digging bruising indents into the flesh of your waist. “Love this pretty little pussy— gonna fuck it ‘til it’s molded to my cock. Gonna ruin you for anyone except for me. This cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it, baby? God, look at you… taking it like such a good girl.”

His words make your head spin, a searing need building in your core, molten lava beneath your skin heating your thighs and groin. It feels divine, better than you ever remember… but it’s not enough to send you over the edge, give you that release you crave so desperately. “Need more,” you keen, “More, Daddy, please!”

“Greedy girl.” Chan chuckles darkly, the sound going straight to your cunt. “Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

You can’t respond, fucked so stupid you don’t know what you’re begging for— Chan tsks like he’s disappointed, letting go of your hips with one hand to grab a rough fistful of your hair. He tugs your head up to look at him, dark eyes dripping with lust and delicious dominance; you struggle to keep your eyes open, your vision swimming and your eyelids drooping from the onslaught of pleasure Chan continues to pound into you. “Too dumb on cock to speak? C’mon, pretty girl, tell Daddy what you want him to do to you.”

He tugs on your hair again, pain erupting across your scalp. It blends with your pleasure to create a heady, dizzying cocktail of ecstasy. You cry out in delight, letting go of the bedsheets to scramble for something sturdier to hold on to, ground you— your hands find purchase on your own tits, bouncing with Chan’s thrusts, and you knead the plump flesh with a wanton sob, your fingers twisting and pinching at your nipples hard enough to make you shake.

“My clit!” you finally manage to whimper out, broken and pathetic. “My clit, my clit— touch me, touch my clit, please!”

He does as he promised, leaning back to spit messily on your clit before letting go of your hair to circle the bud with his thumb. Your head falls back limply onto the pillows, hazy eyes rolling back in your head as you sob and hiccup in uncontrollable pleasure.

“Gettin’ close, babygirl? I can feel it, pussy squeezing me so tight— I’m close too, fuck, gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you!” Chan’s thrusts grow sloppy, his chest heaving as he pants open-mouthed like a dog. “How about that, hm? Want me to put another baby inside of you? So everyone knows not to touch what’s mine? I’ll breed this pussy so fucking full you’ll be dripping my cum for days…”

His words should scare you, should break whatever spell he’s put you under and have you begging him to pull out. But you’ve slipped away from reality, floating mindlessly in an erotic fantasy you’ve convinced yourself is too good to be true. You don’t want to wake up, don’t want to think about what lies ahead of you once Chan leaves your bed once again. You babble and beg for his cum, for him to bring you to your own climax, scratching deep red marks into his chest. They look at home amongst all the bruises.

“Tell me you love me.” Chan grunts abruptly, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down to barely moving, his cock dragging along your gummy walls deliciously buy far too slowly.

You blink up at him in shock and confusion. “H-huh?”

“Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum.” He repeats, his eyes boring into yours, a knowing look in his eyes like he can see into your soul. “I love you so much, and I’m gonna show it with all this cum I’m gonna pump into this sweet cunt… don’t you love me too? Just say it and I’ll give you what you want, what you need…”

You’re just on the precipice of orgasm, teetering on the edge but unable to push yourself over, and your poor heart feels so exposed and raw… you can’t help but relent to him, succumb to his desires like you always do.

“I love you! I-I love you, Channie, Daddy, love you s-so much— ah!!”

His hips pick up to a speed that seems nearly superhuman, rutting into you wildly like an animal in heat as he grunts and groans, pinches your clit hard between his thumb and forefinger to make you scream. It feels so good, too good, and big watery tears roll down your cheeks as your body begins to vibrate with your orgasm. You’ve never cried during sex before.

“Let go, my love.” Chan croons, slapping your clit lightly. “Let it all out…”

Your orgasm hits you like a tsunami, a tidal wave of explosive hysteria— with a shriek you squirt everywhere, all over Chan’s hand, belly, thighs, creamy droplets flying with every nasty wet thrust. Your gummy walls spasm around his cock, sucking him in deeper as if to ensure you milk him dry. “That’s it, babygirl, cum for daddy!” Chan howls, intent on talking you through it even as he creeps closer and closer to climax himself. “Fuck yes, such a good girl, making a mess for me— gonna cum now, too, gonna breed this pussy! Ready for it? Gonna take it all, right princess?”

“Yes! Yesyesyes, please, please! Give it to me, daddy!”

He shoots his load deep inside of you with an animalistic growl, hot and thick painting your walls creamy white. It feels never ending, fat cock twitching with every spurt of seed he dumps into your womb, filling you up so much that thick globs of it spills out around him and drips down his balls to mix with the puddle forming on the soaked bedsheets. His legs give out and he collapses against you, gasping for breath with his face buried in your chest; you wrap your weak, trembling arms around his neck, and the two of you dissolve into breathless giggles as you slowly grind against each other ride out your highs. When Chan finally pulls out you see a foamy white ring around the base of his softening cock, sticking in his pubes.

You can feel your spent cunt leak his seed, dripping down your ass— Chan stares at in in awe, his fingers sliding up your sensitive folds to collect it and push it back inside.

“So beautiful…” he whispers, grinning as he admires your creamy bred pussy. His fingers at your hole makes you whimper in overstimulation, and you try to close your legs and squirm away, making him laugh. His eyes crinkle in that adorable way you hate to love so much. “You’re so beautiful.”

You don’t have the heart to make him leave, not when he runs you a warm bath and cleans you up so nicely. Not when he strips the bed and changes the sheets for you so you can lay comfortably, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings into your hair. Not as he promises to you that he’ll change, that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in his arms, that white picket fences are just over the horizon. You feel weightless, floating, satisfied… and that makes you feel sick.

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