#every time i try to make a conversation i just get ignored

[kazumikissu]

CRYBABY !

tutor!scaramouche x fem!reader

✧ — making you cry is part of the learning process!

— nsfw, university au, scaramouche has dacryphilia, spanking, sex with an object, humiliation, reader is the stereotypical sorority girl for the plot, not beta read | 1,378 words

no amount of pleading from different subject professors could ever get scaramouche to tutor. with pay or not, the last thing he wanted to eat on his place was a stupid student who can't fend for themselves in a field where mental strength and intellect mattered over beauty and fashion. he cared little to how you even passed the opening exams and got accepted into a high-demanding university like this, the exact same one scaramouche attends, unfortunate for his luck.

if that wasn't enough, you took the same program as scaramouche did, leading you to share a few too many classes together—too much for what he would consider his liking. you're no more than brain-dead during lecrure hours, having evaded from conversing with you one-too-many times. a no-good partygoer in his eyes, with a face caked with layers of make-up and an IQ as little as your personality.

if he could, scaramouche would've gladly ignored your existence for the rest of his years and acted like you never existed first thing. yet he could only bet on his luck for the nth time he's turned down his professor's request in tutoring you. when his phone rung to his mother's number, no longer pleading, but demanding scaramouche just for the extra points he'll get after a hell of a session with you—or at least that's what he'd like to imagine being with you for a few many hours.

after a cacophony of cursing over the line, he ends up in front of your doorstep, fingers ticking by his side as he finds himself to be less and less interested in entertaining your stupidity, all by the passing minute.

yet scaramouche couldn't find too many complaints now that this session brought you draped over his lap, teary eyed and snot down your nostrils. "how many times are you going to get this question wrong, stupid bitch?" a tone as sharp as the slap he drives against the plush of your ass, stinging your reddening flesh a prominent red. a shade addictive, the darker it gets, the better he saw it.

"s…scara, m'sorry!" drool dripped down the corner of your lips as sniffles left your lungs, the tips of your fingers quivering with an electricity that goes through your veins, buzzing with every harsh smack from scaramouche. "I don't know what… what the question means…"

words fumble out your lips as slippery as a rock in a river, tongue smooth on the roof of your mouth as you took in a heavy gulp. there was little to no mercy in scaramouche's piercing gaze, however, yet he was heavily entertained with the stupid little delight he had draped over his lap. "oh, but wouldn't this be the sixth time i'd have to explain it to you? are you that much of an imbecile?" another slap bounced against the walls of your room, cries coming louder than words with the parting of your lips.

"the only thing you're good at is opening your legs. the professor might as well make you the class whore, if he wants you to be so useful. i don't see anything that can nurture you in the brain if not between your legs," scaramouche has mocked you more times you've spoken a coherent sentence over the time he's been with you. but, unfortunately, pain came little from all your crying. rather, a show of pleasure, as it seemed your lower legs were weeping wetter than your eyes were spilling out tears.

scaramouche has never seen anything more pathetic. well, maybe his mother trying to reconcile with him after years off adding pressure to heavy his plate, but this was another category. you were another category, and one he surprisingly enjoys. "stop squirming, shitface," he hissed, brows knitted as one hand held you down, the other finally straying away from your ass, reaching for something.

a something that had your eyes widen looking back, twirling a pencil enticingly between his fingers. "what, cat got your tongue again, dumbo bitch?" that bite never left his tone as scaramouche brought his hand back, now right between your legs as you're left restrained in horror. "move and I'll drive the tip of this until the lead is flush against your thigh bone, okay? i'll make my own hole to fuck with if you don't stop pissing me off."

that threat had you frozen immediately, the air in your lungs thinning within seconds of anticipation. your heartbeat was assaulting your eardrums with every little breath you started to heave, a shudder breaking through as you felt the eraser side of the pencil trace the outer of your labia with deliberance. slowly, mockingly, as if scaramouche is taunting you—and he is.

the blunt surface pressed against the pearl that peeked between your slit, making you suck in a breath before scaramouche does it again, squishing your clit with every toe you curl from the sensation. your back arched an angle you didn't know you could curve at, the moment he pushed the slender wood into you, with the intent to seek out that spot that made your vision start to blur at the edges. well, if they weren't already.

with how turned on you got by a spanking, cloud 9 was closer to your reach with how loose your mind has gotten. and throughout, scaramouche found a sick sense simmer inside his stomach. perhaps, a sense of satisfaction… or a something that wells his ego at the sight of you so stupid. perfectly fucked-out type of stupid, and he's yet to start! "you're getting off to this? fucking disgusting." he swirled the pencil inside of you, purposely rubbing every wall and nudging at every crevice. "had the professor's known you'd be so whorish, you're better off being a prostitute than live out a life where you start business and make money.

"because, unfortunately for you, the main foundation of a company should be the founder's brains. but you? you're only a waste of meat," scaramouche's tone lowers in volume, a taunt underlying each hurtful words, meant to make you sniffle louder than the last time. make you cry more vibrantly, where your voice is bouncing off the walls, moans and cries with the sound of your pussy slick as the cherry on top. "then again, you're not so bad. you're a waste, but certainly a… pleasant looking one."

the backhanded compliment made the lower of your stomach hot, accompanied with the persistent push of the pencil's blunt tip inside you, aiming at your g-stop with impeccable precision. you always loved to flaunt your looks, anyway, what could a superflouos of talent stand for if there's already a pretty face catching everyone's attention?

"scaramouche," his name bubbles at the surface of your tongue, forming words become a much more even difficult feat—had it been earlier when he punished you by spanking and making you read, you would've failed by a landslide. scaramouche's name was the only coherent thing you could manage out your drooling lips, and even then, it was still muffled by the sound of sex in the air. "i'm gonna… scara, 'm gonna cum," the words squeezed out your lungs the same time as your pussy clenched around the intruding object, velvet walls contracting like it's seeking for more. and more did scaramouche give, drilling the pencil fully into you after a click of his tongue.

only then did you finally feel the object kiss your cervix, causing you to immediately sieze across his lap. finger clenched inwards, burning onto the palm of your hand to the point your knuckles go white. back arching further up that scaramouche's internally impressed you haven't broken the curve of your spine yet, and the tense curls of your toes with your knees throwing at the air in pleasure. "holy shit," scaramouche grunts, pausing the movements of his wrist, fingers slipping as they kept their hold on the pencil sheathed fully in you. his whole arm was soaked beyond his bewilderment, but that quickly shifted into something else.

manifesting a smirk on the corner of his lip, scaramouche hummed. "you're really a dirty fucking bitch. but that's only good for me, yeah? let's see how much more times i can make you fucking squirt." certainly more times that you can get a good grade for your subjects on your own—or lack of thereof—but only the loud stretch of the evening will tell.

a/n; um... don't do this at home unless your pencil is clean, i guess? keep your kitty infection-free ❤️😝 i'm not actually sure if i wrote this properly so uh boombayah!!!

[vmrsdias]

Insecure

Pairing: Ruben Dias x reader

Plot: You’re different from those girls Ruben used to go out with

Author's note: English is not my first language

It was a foggy evening in London, and the city lights shimmered through the large windows of the restaurant where a charity event had just concluded. y/n walked beside Ruben, clutching his arm, the sound of her heels on the pavement echoing her muddled thoughts.

“Everything okay?” Ruben asked, noticing her distant expression.

y/n forced a smile. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine at all. During the event, Ruben had bumped into one of his exes, Isabelle, a French model who looked like she had just stepped off the cover of Vogue. Their conversation had been cordial, even warm, and y/n had felt like a piece of furniture, invisible and insignificant next to that perfect woman. Every smile and word exchanged between them had been a reminder of how different she was from Ruben’s world.

Once outside the restaurant, Ruben ran into Bernardo Silva and a couple of other teammates, who greeted him enthusiastically.

“Ruben, as great as ever!” Bernardo said, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he noticed y/n and smiled. “And who’s this beautiful lady? You’ve outdone yourself, as always.”

Ruben laughed, pulling y/n closer. “This is y/n. And please, don’t put any strange ideas in her head.”

“Don’t worry, Ruben, I don’t need him to feel inadequate,” y/n replied with an ironic smile, trying to lighten the tension she felt inside. But Ruben turned to her, raising an eyebrow, sensing the undertone of her words.

After saying goodbye to the others, Ruben helped her into the car. “You were amazing tonight,” he said as he started the engine. “Everyone loved your speech.”

“Thank you,” y/n replied, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. Once inside the car, she stared at her reflection in the window. The dress she had chosen so carefully now seemed too simple, too… insignificant.

When they got home, Ruben took off his jacket and collapsed onto the couch. “What an intense evening, huh?” he said, flashing her a tired but affectionate smile.

y/n nodded but didn’t join him. Instead, she headed to the bedroom, where she began removing her earrings in front of the mirror. She couldn’t shake the image of Isabelle from her mind: tall, elegant, with a presence that filled the room. And then there was her, a simple psychology student who felt out of place in that world of luxury and glamour.

Ruben joined her shortly after, leaning against the doorframe. “Are you okay?” he repeated, this time with a note of concern.

y/n turned to him, unsure whether to speak or not. But eventually, the words spilled out. “How can you be with me, Ruben? After everything you’ve had? After women like Isabelle?”

He stared at her, surprised. “What? Where is this coming from?”

She shook her head, feeling tears sting her eyes. “I stood next to you all evening, but I couldn’t help feeling… less. Less beautiful, less interesting, less suited for you.”

Ruben stepped closer, taking her hands and forcing her to look into his eyes. “Amor, stop it. Don’t say things like that.”

“But it’s true,” y/n insisted, pulling her hands away. “Look at Isabelle! She belongs in your world. I… I spend my days studying and doing internships. I don’t even know how to act in places like tonight.”

“You belong in my world more than anyone else,” Ruben said firmly. “Do you know why? Because you’re real. Because you’re you. Isabelle is part of the past. You are my present and my future.”

y/n looked at him, trying to believe his words. “But don’t you miss that kind of life? Those kinds of people?”

Ruben smiled and shook his head. “No. Do you know what I miss when you’re not around? The way you laugh at silly jokes. The way you get lost in your thoughts while studying. The way you make me feel at home, even when we’re on the other side of the world.”

At that moment, Ruben’s phone vibrated. It was a message in the team group chat. Bernardo had written: “Your y/n is a gem, brother. You’re a lucky man.” Ruben showed the message to y/n, who read it with a small smile. “See?” Ruben said. “It’s not just me who thinks so.”

“But I…” y/n began, but Ruben interrupted her.

“There are no ‘buts,’” he said. “You’re everything I want, y/n. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. Not a single thing.”

She lowered her gaze, torn between wanting to believe him and the voice in her head that kept whispering she wasn’t enough. “And what if one day everything changes? If I stop being enough for you?”

Ruben leaned down slightly, bringing himself to her level. “You’re already enough. You’re everything. And every time you doubt that, I’ll remind you how special you are to me.”

The tears y/n had been holding back finally fell, and Ruben pulled her into a tight embrace, as if trying to banish all her insecurities. But that night, as he slept peacefully beside her, y/n lay awake, staring at the ceiling. She loved that man with all her heart, but every day she fought against the idea of not being good enough. Perhaps, she thought, love isn’t just about accepting the other person but also learning to accept yourself.

[genderqueerdykes]

this whole anti-transmasc shit is making me way more depressed than bs discourse should because for years i thought it was about us. Big US. all of us. I thought we were us. thats why it didnt matter that not a lot of the conversation about trans issues were about trans men, or that very few public figures who talked about trans issues were trans men. I thought it was enough that it was us. but apparently this whole time I wasnt included in that? apparently this whole time I was this like. half trans person who doesnt actually count as apart of the conversation? it really sucks ass.

honestly that's a great way to put it. it's bone chilling to realize how many people have been excluding you from the start, and are only trying to make it worse. this divide in the trans community is manufactured as hell. it's like you said, you thought it was about "us"- all of us. all trans people. but for some reason, there's this common online rhetoric that trans men aren't trans somehow? like being a trans man isn't "Actually trans" or you're being trans "wrong" somehow.

like how are we still perpetuating the idea that the only "right" way to be trans is to be a trans woman and everyone else is a tomboy, or a confused butch, or a crossdresser, or whatever the fuck. like we somehow still have people within the community who just deny up and down that trans men "count" as trans. what are we doing? this isn't community. it's bullies looking for fresh meat to target, and i've had enough.

i don't care if people assume shit about the trans male experience. i don't think that people believe that we instantly gain cishet male privilege (or gain it at all) and are basically cishet men and oppressors. that's just not how this shit works. we're still trans. we are a part of the trans community. you can't ignore us anymore. we're right here. and we're going to occupy the spaces we rightfully can. and we're going to keep talking about our experiences until it pisses off every last transandrophobe.

people who want to make an entire queer community about themselves are a detriment to those around them. people who think they're somehow the protagonist of a given community deserve to face pushback. we don't have to sit here and let people walk all over us anymore. this is what cishet society does to trans men. why should we have to get walked all over on in our own home? are people serious with this shit right now? you can't kick us out of our own home. we live here. we've always lived here.

[weepingchronicles]

hii can you pls make a yandere caitlyn x reader where the reader tries escaping while cait isn't home but the reader obvi gets caught?? feel free 2 ignore💗💗

part one part two

❝yandere!caitlyn kiramman x gn!reader escaping❞

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You had finally curated the perfect escape plan. You almost lost home, Caitlyn was too meticulous and could see through an act you put on no matter what. But when she got an emergency in Piltover, it was her duty as an enforcer to help. The spontaneity gave you the perfect opportunity to leave.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 After weeks of behaving, you secretly absorbed as much information as possible to bypass any security Caitlyn put in place.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 As soon as the warm sun hit your face and fresh air flooded into your lungs, you couldn't stop the happy tears building up in your eyes. You had forgotten what a privilege your freedom outside is. No more overbearing, clingy, protective enforcer as your side anymore! You'd change your name, your appearance if need be to escape her.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Everything was cut short when you found an enforcer. They'll help you! You were once an enforcer after all, they'd have to believe you even if its been awhile. Right?

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Ryan! You don't know how glad I am to see you!" You restrained yourself from clinging onto him into relief. It's been so long since you've finally felt free. You quickly explained him everything, how you've been entrapped by Caitlyn, not realizing you sound a bit delirious.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Ryan just nods, a uncomfortable smile on his face. "Great.. does um, Caitlyn know you are here?"

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "What? No, of course not! I'm trying to escape her. You have to help me!"

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁"Yeah, yeah, of course. But maybe we should get some backup first, okay?" He says soothingly but you're already scoffing at his comment. You recognize that tone, the same condescending and fragility that Caitlyn treats you with!

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Fine, but hurry!" You shout, getting anxious Caitlyn might've found out you're not at home still.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Just as you're about to shout again to announce your impatientness a white gloved hand reaches out and grips your wrist with ferocity. It was Caitlyn.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You look up at her like you seen a friggin' ghost, your heartrate dropping then picking back up exponentially like a rabbit.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Ah, thank you, Ryan for telling me to come pick up Y/N. I was really worried for a minute there, they are suppose to be on bedrest. For a very long time." Caitlyn's sapphire eyes snap back to you, almost signaling you to keep quiet. A warning. But you couldn't help but defend yourself.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "No, help! She's fucking crazy! She drugged and kidnapped me—"

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Both Ryan and Caitlyn have a conversation as if you're not even there. Like you're the ghost.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Yeah, it's been very hard. Ever since the accident she hasn't been the same, her memories are so backwards. She gets delusions that I'm Jinx trying to hurt her. It's so.." Caitlyn fakes a down cast look, making Ryan pity her and put a hand on her shoulder for comfort.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Don't worry, I completely understand. You're doing a good thing, Cait. Do you need any help getting her back home?" Caitlyn quickly declines, flashing a discreet charming smile.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 After that it was hell. Caitlyn dragged you back home as if nothing was wrong and you didn't bother trying to escape again. She could restrain you easily, shoot you in the leg, anything. And her bruising grip on your shoulders was enough of a effective warning.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 The rest of the months was indeed spent with you on your "bedrest" even though you had no need for it. You were chained nearly 24/7 and when you weren't, Caitlyn was at your side. She'd bathe you, spoon feed you, make you succumb to her control in every little thing. Asserting that you have no power here, you can't do anything yourself especially when no one else on the outside believes you are mentally sound.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 The punishment was long but it eventually got easier, the more you let yourself accept it. You leaned into Cait's touch when she'd give you it and you didn't make a fuss every night when she put you down for bed with her. You got more freedoms, more time spent out of chains but still under Caitlyn's scrutinizing watch.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 But one thing was for certain from the bars on the windows and the locks on the doors, you won't ever be seeing a ray of sunlight again.

art credit: @/kulnifer on twt

[aventurineswife]

Christmas celebration with Sebastian from Roblox Pressure

Christmas Celebration with You

Summary: On Christmas Eve, amidst the bleak surroundings of Hadal Blacksite, you find yourself spending the holiday with Sebastian, the snarky and unpredictable shopkeeper. In an attempt to bring some cheer to the desolate space, you decorate his shop with a makeshift snowman and tattered lights. Despite his gruff exterior and dark humor, Sebastian reluctantly shares a moment of peace with you, showing a rare, softer side as you both take a break from the usual tension. In this unusual holiday encounter, you discover that even in the darkest places, a little light can make a big difference.

Tags: Sebestian Solace x Reader, Christmas Eve, Friendship, Platonic Relationship, Slow Burn, Holiday Cheer, Humor, Lighthearted, Fluff.

Warnings: Mild language, Slight violence, Mentions of experimentation and betrayal(?).

The cold, damp air of Hadal Blacksite pressed against the worn metal walls of the makeshift shop. The flickering light from the overhead bulb cast eerie shadows across the piles of strange and dangerous items that lined the shelves. Sebastian leaned against the wall, his three arms folded across his serpentine body. His sharp teeth glinted as he grinned, eyes watching every movement you made.

It was Christmas Eve, but you were far from home, far from any sense of normalcy. Yet, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth as the holiday's spirit drifted through the Blacksite, somehow managing to seep into the cracks of this desolate place. You had brought a small decoration with you—a tiny, hastily made snowman, crafted from scavenged materials you’d found on your way here.

“What's this? You planning to turn my shop into a holiday wonderland?” Sebastian’s voice, dripping with his signature sarcasm, broke through your thoughts as you placed the snowman on the counter next to him. His third eye flickered as he studied it, his expression somewhere between amusement and mild distaste.

You shrugged, trying to keep the mood light. “It’s a little festive cheer. I thought it might brighten up the place. Besides, you could use some holiday spirit.”

He snorted, his snake-like tail flicking slightly. “Holiday spirit? In this hellhole? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You chuckled, inside Sebastian’s shop, there was some semblance of life. Despite his monstrous appearance and prickly attitude, Sebastian had an air of familiarity, something akin to comfort—if you could ignore the threat of his short fuse.

“You sure you don’t want to join in?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation casual as you rummaged through a small bag, pulling out a single string of tattered lights. “I could hang these up.”

Sebastian’s sharp gaze followed your every movement. “I don’t need your pity decorations,” he growled, but the edge of his voice didn’t seem as sharp as usual. His gaze lingered on the snowman again. “What kind of idiot makes a snowman in a place like this, anyway?”

“Me, apparently,” you quipped. “Maybe I’m just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.”

A brief silence stretched between you, the only sound being the hum of the dim light overhead. For a moment, it almost felt like the holiday was real, like you weren’t trapped in this nightmarish place.

Sebastian shifted, his tail curling around his waist as he slithered over to the shelf where he kept his wares. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood tonight,” he said with a grunt, not looking at you. “I’ve got some stuff I’d be willing to trade. But you’d better make it worth my time.”

“Isn’t that your thing?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “Trading. Bargaining.”

He shot you a sideways glance. “I’m not your damn therapist, kid. Don’t get too cozy.” But his voice was softer than usual, and there was a hint of something unspoken beneath the snark.

You hesitated, glancing at the snowman and the small strand of lights in your hands. Something felt different tonight. The usual tension that defined every encounter with Sebastian was missing. There was a subtle shift in the air—an odd, fleeting connection that couldn’t quite be explained.

“Well,” you said slowly, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips, “maybe we could just… enjoy the holiday for once. No business, no bargaining, just a little break. Even you deserve that.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his third eye twitching slightly as he considered your offer. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and just when you thought he was going to shoot you down again, his lips curled into a sly, almost begrudging smile.

“Fine,” he muttered, stepping aside to make space on the table. “But if you screw with my setup, I’m kicking you out.”

You smiled, setting the lights down on the table and carefully starting to untangle them. As you worked, Sebastian remained in the background, watching you with a mix of curiosity and annoyance, though it was clear he was less irritated than usual. The tension had softened, and for the first time in a long while, there was a quiet peace in the air between you.

When the lights were finally strung up and the snowman stood proudly on the table, you stepped down, surveying the scene. It wasn’t much, but it was something. The dim glow of the lights flickered against the cold metal walls, casting a soft, warm hue across the room.

“Well, there you go,” you said, wiping your hands on your pants. “A little Christmas cheer, Sebastian style.”

Sebastian didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he stood there for a moment, silent, looking at the small setup you’d created. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward on the table, his fish-like mouth quirking into an almost affectionate smirk.

“Guess you’re not as dumb as you look.” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Sebastian smirked again, though there was something softer in his gaze than you were used to seeing. He didn’t say anything else, but for once, the silence between you felt comfortable—like two people sharing a brief, fleeting moment of peace in an otherwise harsh world.

As the night stretched on, the glow of the lights filled the shop, a small but meaningful reminder that even in the darkest places, a little light could make all the difference.

And maybe—just maybe—Sebastian wasn’t as immune to the spirit of Christmas as he let on.

[touhouweed]

idk, it feels weird to run a big group and also feel very isolated

[fallentheatre]

each other's world, torn apart

minecraft end poem as a conversation between two broken brothers.

(@hoverboards-and-dragons heyyyyy)

[alongtidesoflight]

why is it that when you're biracial and you talk to white westerners once the question of your heritage comes up they jump to the absolute worst interpretation of it

[geddy-leesbian]

when people act interested and want to talk to me and they start ignoring me after I send a couple messages 😊

[thebirdandhersong]

alas babes I literally cannot defend this man's name anymore except in the name of ignorance which. you can only claim ignorance for so long

[foxgloveinspace]

I mean this in the nicest way possible: I wish I was a better friend.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[zickmonkey]

Oh my god hey besties guess who's having an awful time like mentally

[orcelito]

Ykno the suckiest thing about being broken up with for someone else is that like. Well I'm doing generally fine, all things considered, but I Am kinda sad thinking about the things I've lost and all the casual affection that I can't have now.

But she's out there having all the affection she wants from her coworker, and it's just like. Damn this feels so skewed and SO unfair.

[kittlyns]

I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day

[bmpmp3]

I NEEED to go back to making art that makes it ABUNDANTLY clear that theres something wrong with my brain BUT NOT in a cool or stylishly interesting way. i need to do it in a way that makes people say "hm." and walk away