#i'm gonna work so hard and i'm gonna do so well

[sapphira-mydnyte]

♥Shy Snake King♥

Warning: Snake, pain infliction, emotional overload.

Sebastian knows Ominis is deserving of being loved & he knows who his crush is. He means no harm, but Ominis is super shy & hates it when Sebastian tries to rush things. Ominis wants to take it slow & really work on not being so shy around the one he wants, but coming from such an abusive household that thrives on dark magic makes it extremely hard for him. He doesn't want the girl he really wants to be put off by his family, nor the fact that he's a parselmouth. Although she's accepting of it, there's always going to be a part of him that's scared. That underlying fear is that you won't like him when he gets cranky or that his family will come after you. He just doesn't want any harm to come to his girl, nor for her to have a reason to hate him. He knows his animagus form is a snake of some sort because he's an heir & Ominis, loving as he is, doesn't want his girl to be scared of him when he turns into whatever snake he truly is. He hopes he's a ball python though, a very cute one & not any bigger than he is at his full height for the length of the snake.

Sebastian, being playful & meaning no harm, pushed the poor blond a little too hard. The blue-eyed heir nearly fell into a kiss on the girl he had the biggest crush on & it unnerved him entirely! "SEBASTIAN!! Get your ass back here!! You're gonna pay for that!! YOU KNOW BETTER!!" Embarrassed with a full blush on his face, he gave chase to the mischievous brunette Scotsman. Ominis was NOT having his own best friend ruin that kiss for him & that was too damned close for his comfort! "I'm the heir you idiot!! You know damned well that I have a standard!!" He fired a few shots of Depulso at Sebastian, but he dodged the spells with ease & pulled up his shield in a full run for the last one. "Come on then Ominis! I know you're better than that! You want her that bad? Huh? Do you?!" Sebastian was just slightly shorter than Ominis, but he was the better runner, which irked Ominis to no end. He had the longer stride, but Sebastian had that little extra muscle to him thanks to all the running around he did with his sister.

As for the lovely lady that had stolen Ominis' heart? She was stunned that Sebastian was that brash about it, but thought it hilarious as Ominis tore across the field & getting closer by the second as they headed for the doors to the Great Hall. "Oh, Sebastian... what am I going to do with you & Ominis?" She couldn't help but laugh at Ominis' reaction, as he was clearly not ready to make a move that quick & nearly knocked his best friend down with his sharp aim. "Oh Ominis... don't take it too hard on Sallow... he knows where your heart lies & wants you happy, plus, I don't think Anne will like it if you torch his eyebrows again." She walked towards the Great Hall, following the Slytherin boys a mile behind. Sebastian may have rushed it a bit, but she knew how to make it better. With a little smirk on her face, she strutted through the doors of the Great Hall. "Pretty boy Gaunt has no idea what he's in for later... not in the slightest." Her plan? Sneak the gorgeous blond out & give him that much needed kiss in the Undercroft after locking the door behind them. Sebastian wasn't going to ruin his moment like he said & she'd make sure that the proud heir was made into a boyfriend before the sun rose the next morning. ♥

Kabedon

Sebastian really wants to intervene in his best friend's romance🤣

[wandanatrules]

fic idea (sorry if this is bad, I'm using the translator because English is not my native language)

Wanda or Natasha (maybe both if you can) wanted to have a child with the reader, but then they got divorced and the reader was pregnant, the reader complained by calling saying that she was going to take Wanda/Nat to court for refusing to pay child support, until the reader decided to go to her house and got pregnant again.

Fool Me Once

Hi guys! I really liked this request, because I had been wanting to write something with divorced Nat. I hope that this does this justice. I feel bad for Wanda in this, so my next fic I am hoping to do something with wanda x nat. Please continue to send requests! And as usual I didn’t feel like proofreading it :(

(this is not my gif)

word count: 2.5k

paring: g!p beefy nat x divorced fem reader

warnings: natasha has a penis, infidelity, pretty angsty, arguing, foul language, cursing, name calling, smut, voyuerism, penetration, cunnilingus, (let me know if I missed anything!).

“Oh baby you are taking me so good, if you keep moving your hips like that I’m gonna blow. But I bet you want me to breed your tight hole. Is that right?”

”Yes please, Natasha I want to have your babies I need your seed so bad!”

4 years later…

 “Natasha, this is the last time I'm leaving you a message! I have tried to be civil but you leave me no choice! Not visiting your daughter for 5 months or paying any child support isn’t gonna cut it anymore. Since you refuse to care for your child I will see you in court!”, You said after hanging up the phone and frustratingly throwing it onto the couch.

The noise startled your 3 year old daughter and she came into the room to see what happened. “Mommy are you okay? Was that mama, is she coming back to us soon?”

”Yes everything is okay baby. It’s okay I miss mama too, we are gonna see her soon.” You said kneeling down to her eye level and plastering a fake smile on your face to reassure her. 

Two weeks later it was the day of the court hearing and the first time you had seen Natasha since you had found her with Wanda, 5 months ago.

When you first started dating Natasha, she insisted that you quit your job and become her housewife. Since she was a CEO of a multimillion dollar company there was really no need for you to work and considering you thought that she was going to be your forever you took her up on the offer. But now that you were a single mother with no support system and very little money for childcare, it was hard for you to keep a stable job and provide for your child. 

Natasha on the other hand was doing very good for herself. According to her facebook, that you definitely didn’t stalk, her and Wanda expecting a child together. How could she do this to you, I mean the divorce was yet to even be finalized. Her business was booming and she had bought a new house for her new girl and their child to be. 

“Mama! I missed you!”, Your daughter said escaping your arms to run into the arms of your ex lover.

Not wanting to soil your daughter’s opinion of her mother, you told her that she was on an important trip and she was too busy to talk on the phone. 

“Why hello there babygirl I missed you so much! You got so tall honey!”, She said while picking her up and twirling her around. 

“Mommy look mama is back, aren’t you so happy!”, Your daughter said beckoning you over to greet your ex.

“Hello, y/n you look well.”, She said with that godforsaken smirk. The same smirk that got you pregnant. You couldn’t lie she looked great in the pant suit she was wearing, you always loved her in her dominating attire. 

“Natasha”, You said with a curt head nod, “As do you.” 

“Come on baby, you can sit with my friend Wanda, while me and mommy go inside and have a long talk.” Natasha said before you seethingly saw her walk your child across the courthouse to the bench that Wanda was patiently sitting at. 

“After taking all of the information presented today into consideration, I have my verdict. I rule that the defendant, Mrs. Natasha Romanoff, is ordered to pay the plaintiff, Mrs. Y/N Romanoff, at least $600 a month and is required to have the child in her custody at least every other weekend starting today. This is a temporary verdict that will be re-examined for permanency when the divorce is finalized.

 “Okay honey, are you excited to have a sleepover with mama this weekend?”, Natasha said, holding your daughter in her arms.

 “Are we finally going back to our old house? Can I sleep in bed with you and mommy again?” Your daughter said excitedly, with eyes full of hope.

 “No baby for now on me and mama aren’t going to be living together anymore. You are gonna be with only one of us at a time, but it’s okay because we love you so much. We are gonna go home and pack you a bag so that I can drop you off with mama and her friend Wanda for the weekend later tonight.” 

Knock Knock Knock…

It was two hours later when you arrived at Natasha’s new house for the first time. Your daughter fell asleep in the car, so you carefully grabbed her and her stuff before walking up the driveway of the huge house and knocking on the door.

 “Hey y/n.”, Natasha said after opening up the door. She was wearing a white wife beater that showcased her broad shoulders and the pump in her biceps, indicated that she had just finished working out. You looked down and bit your lip when your eyes captured her built veiny quads in the shortest gym shorts you have ever seen in your life. 

“Here she’s sleeping, hopefully for another hour or so.”, You said while carefully handing her over. 

“Okay stay here for a second, i’ll take her and her stuff to her room, but I need to talk to you. You can sit over here.” She said pointing to the couch. 

You sat down wondering what she could possibly have to say to you after all the hurt she has caused you. 

“So where is your baby mama?”, You asked as she returned down the stairs.

”She is staying with her parents for the weekend. I didn’t want to confuse our daughter. But I wanted to ask you to take me back, baby please.”

”Not this again Natasha! How do you expect me to take you back when your girlfriend is 7 months pregnant, but we separated only 5 months ago!! You cheated on me! I try to do a nice thing and surprise you with dinner at your office and I walk in on you balls deep in that whore!” You exclaimed angrily. 

“Baby you are my wife, she doesn’t mean anything to me. I just want to make sure my child is okay, that is the only reason I keep her around. I promise.” She said reaching out and putting her hand on your thigh. 

“Then tell me why did you cheat on me, especially with Wanda from your office. I always told you she had a crush on you, but you waved me off. What does she have that I don’t?” 

“I don’t know, y/n I was craving some closeness. Things were different between us ever since you had the baby. We barely had sex and she was showing me all of this attention I just couldn’t resist. But I didn’t mean to get her pregnant. She told me she was on birth control and she ripped the condom off me, I think she was trying to baby trap me. I even offered to pay for her abortion when I found out she was pregnant, but she wouldn’t budge. Listen, I have to do what’s right for my baby, but I promise you things will be different if you take me back. I am done with her. I will pay for her to have an apartment, so my baby isn’t homeless and I want you and our daughter to move in here with me or we can move somewhere else, whatever you want baby.” At this point it seemed as though she was begging considering she found herself on her knees in front of you, looking up with her hands on her waist. 

“But why did you abandon our daughter, we called you everyday since the separation and you never picked up.” You said avoiding her eye contact.

 “I was so ashamed of myself, y/n. I couldn’t see you or hear your voice without reminding me of everything I lost. I didn’t want our daughter to think badly about me. Y/n I am so sorry and I can’t live without you, I need you to take me back.” She pleaded again on her knees.

 “Show me how much you really love me then.”, You said leaning down to whisper in the ear of the woman in front of you, before playing with in between your teeth. 

“Are you sure?”, She moaned looking up at you, watching you nod before standing up and grabbing you by the waist, hoisting you over her shoulder in the same motion, running up the stairs. 

“Wait, let's make sure she is still sleeping.”, You said, causing Natasha to stop and quietly open the door to check on your still sleeping daughter. 

“Okay all good let’s go.”, She said in a hurry, practically running down the hallway urging to soothe her hardened erection. Reaching her bedroom she threw you on the bed, face up. 

“Is this the bed you fuck her in?”, You asked with a playful smirk. 

“No baby. I promise we haven’t had sex since the time you caught us in my office. I couldn’t bring myself to fuck her again. But I am being honest when I say the few times we did it I was imagining she was you the whole time.”, She said while hovering over you and kissing your neck. 

“Right Natasha, you always know what the ladies want to hear.”, You said sarcastically, “just hurry up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

Natasha kissed your lips, sticking her tongue in your mouth while humping her bulge against your cunt. Pulling back for air she pulled off your shirt and undid your bra, eyes widening when she saw your huge, plump, and juicy tits. 

“Your tits have gotten so big ever since you have given birth.”, She said massaging them in her hands, slapping the nipple a few times before entering them into her hot mouth. Alternating each of them between her hand and her swirling tongue the pleasure was too much for you. This was the first time anyone had touched you in months since the separation.

 “Oh my god Natty. I have missed your mouth, you use it so well.”, You moaned, pushing her head downwards to where you needed it most. 

“I bet you’re about to love my mouth even more.”, she looked up with a smirk, pulling off your pants and discarding them across the room.

She kissed your clit through your panties, “You wore my favorite panties, it’s almost like you knew this was gonna happen.” she joked into your pussy.

Taking the panties off she smelled them, before putting them in the pocket of her pants. She spread your legs open and pushed them up against your body taking a deep sniff against your wetness moaning at the smell.

 “Still so wet for me baby, can’t wait to taste you.” Her flattened tongue swiftly licked from the bottom to the top, as she relished the taste. She continued her movements up and down before focusing slowly on the too long neglected clit. 

Sticking her tongue under the clit she began to flick, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands made their way to her head holding her hostage in between your thighs.

She ate you out with a renewed fervor like she had something to prove, which she most definitely did. She circled your clit rapidly, pulling out all the noises and juices she could from you. She next teasingly circled your oozing hole savoring the taste of your delicious excrement, before inserting her tongue back and forth expertly playing with your g-spot. 

After only a few minutes of her expert ministrations you couldn’t hold back anymore and you let go with a loud moan, squirting in her in the face you sprayed everywhere, violently shaking as you released your high. 

She licked her lips before removing her top and using it to wipe her face off. The bra went off with it. She moved up to face you again, before enveloping your lips in a kiss. Her tongue explored your mouth, before yours stopped it and sucked the taste of yourself off. 

Pulling back for air she exclaimed, “Your taste is indescribable, makes you incredibly irresistible. I can’t believe you left me without you for so long. I am so hard baby, I need you so bad.”  

“I’m aching so bad Natty, I want your cock.” With that she stood up and stepped out of her gym shorts, the bulge evident in her underwear. She quickly removed it and her gigantic cock sprung out hitting her in the stomach. Something you craved every night when you were alone in bed with your fingers between your thighs during the months you were apart.

She spit on her hand and collected the pre cum from the tip and rapidly spread it up and down her shaft. “Please natty, I've missed your cock so bad.” 

She pushed your legs wide open and fit herself in between them, carefully entering herself into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around her waist and she began with slow and gentle thrusts. 

“I have no self control when it comes to you. Your pussy feels so tight and warm milking my cock like this. Are you okay if I speed up.” She pulls her head up from out of your neck desperately begging to go faster.

Looking up you heard the door open, unbeknownst to Natasha who was caught up in the pleasure. Stood in the doorway was Wanda, Natasha’s girlfriend and baby mama, fuming at the sight. You smirked and decided to have some fun with this.

”Yes Natty please go faster. Is this the best pussy you’ve ever had? Tell me it feels way better than that whore you got knocked up.”

”Of course baby, her pussy does not compare to yours at all.”, She said while you glared up at the woman.

”Tell mommy how much you missed her and how that bitch means nothing to you.”

”Uggh yes mommy, daddy missed you so much that bitch is nothing I promise. I will call her and tell her that for her to hear”, She exclaimed through rapid uneven breaths, in between kissing all over your neck and face.

“It’s okay, no need for that.”, You said with a smug smirk.

Wanda angrily stormed out holding back tears. While you smiled and pulled Natasha in for an intimate kiss. “I love you, Natasha. I trust you, please don’t break it again.”

Natasha eagerly pulled back, shocked at your words, “I love you too so much y/n . I promise I will never do anything to hurt you ever again.” 

“I’m close natty, please.”, You held her tighter than you ever had and relished her thrusts.

”Don’t hold back, I'm right with you, baby.”, she said, her speech broken due to the approaching orgasm. Her cum spurted in a hot rush of liquid, hitting your g-spot directly causing your orgasm. 

“I don’t know if you’re on birth control or not, but it would be great for our daughter to have a sibling.”, She planted a kiss on your lips.

 “She is going to have a sibling, or did you already forget about your infidelity?”, You said with a roll of your eyes.

”Right…”, She said awkwardly, scratching her head. 

Comment down below if you guys would have taken her back or not!

[pixelscutz]

things jjk men say in bed ୨ৎ ! pt 2 .. ft itadori,, geto,, yuta ,, toji

yuji itadori

“good girl, your pussy is all soft and creamy for me.”

“god, your so fucking p-perfect..”

“okay baby, milk my balls dry, i’m all yours.”,

“f-fuckkk, you’re so greedy baby goddd, you look so sexy like this!”

“jesus–mmmph!

“y…yes, ma’am,”

“ohh shit-, is my cock all you ever fucking think about baby? bet you couldn't even last a day without my cock being up this needy, little pussy yeah?”

“y-yeah.. just like that..”

. "i'm — haahh — not g'nna last if you do that again."

"fuck, baby, gonna cum, i'm gonna cum."

"fuuuck, you're so warm... i'm gonna cum soon..."

yuta okkotsu

“hmmm—what a pretty sight,”

“is this good, my love?”

“you’re so perfect.”

“breathe*, love come on.”*

“please, love, i need you.”

“You feel me right here yeah, pretty girl? Tell me –hah– how you feel f’me? C’mon pretty speak.”

“it’s not that bad, baby, can’t we just try again?”

“fuuuckk- more,”

“hah- fine, but ‘m gonna have to…stretch you a bit, baby,”

“gotta get my baby all stretched,”

“mhm- tell me, baby. your pussy’s gonna f- fuckin’ kill me, hah-”

“you look—s-shit! look so pretty like this y/n. pussy feels so fuckin’ good. . . so fuckin’ soft. am i making you feel good? speak up,”

“please, please, please, more— don’t stop, don’t stop, i’ll do anything—”

“i said am thrust i thrust making thrust you fucking feel really hard thrust good?”

“you’re so cute,”

“stop.. ‘m admiring what’s mine..”

“already so wet fr’ me baby, gotta have a taste first,”

“keep your eyes on me love, want you to watch how wet this pussy gets fr’ me,”

"b-baby, don't—ah"

. “god- baby, ‘m gonna cum. can’t.. can’t hold it, lemme finish inside pleaseplease,”

“one more f’me please? You can do that right?”

suguru geto

“ooh, p- princess,”

“ugh- you’re killin’ me here with that pretty fuckin’ arch of yours, y’know that?”

“god- so perfect, look at you, girl. so hah- damn gorgeous when you’re on top, fuck.”

“tch- you’re gettin’ cocky, princess,”

“such a s.. slut,”

“yeah, give it t’me then, baby. don’t miss a fuckin’ drop.”

"princess, you can do better than that,"

"gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"

"c'mon baby, ride me like you mean it,"

"you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"

"you love this, love it when i fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut,"

"that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"

"that's it, fuck, s'good for me,"

“mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”

“c’mon then- heh- mark me. use me. show off that m’yours.”

“anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”

. “f- fuuuuck, girl.”

“mngh- slutty girl, look at that ass tryna fuck me back. A for effort, i guess,”

“don’t look away, look at how your face gets when you…hah- slut yourself out on my dick, doll.”

“yeah, give it t’me then, baby. don’t miss a fuckin’ drop.”

“jus’ . . gimme a minute. think your pussy really hah- broke me,”

toji fushiguro

“no needa worry- m’yours, doll-”

“shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh?

“don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya?

“don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. no need to be shy.”

“awww, c’mon **my wife- lemme hear those pretty noises.”

“good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.”

“c’mooon, pretty thing. let’s see that ass show me what it’s fuckin’ made of,”

“mhm- atta girl. entertain this dick girl, entertain- fuckin’- me.”

“ugh- fillin’ you so well gotta getcha niiiice ‘n round f’m again. can’t leave my pretty mama without a.. hah- fill,”

“fuckin’ shit, babygirl,”

“remember when you…hah- used ‘ta ride me like this on our honeymoon? heh, don’t tell me y’er still in love.”

“goddd- those fuckin’ hips. work ‘em, girl, fuuuck . . me.”

“ahhh- touch, but no looking, baby.”

“bratty girl,”

“heh- atta girl, that’s my girl. ‘m all yours ‘n y’know know it,”

“goddamn, i can’t.. feel my legs, baby girl,”

. “can’t stop . . cummin’ fuck-”

“mhm- she’s as nasty as you, babygirl. look at her swallowin’ it all up. so good.”

“no needa worry- m’yours, doll-”

[scoutofmymind]

Saw that someone said Luigi’s Reddit had a post where he eluded to a pretty heavy drinking habit in college, which then makes me think about drunk ex!luigi. I’m sorry, but you write angst too well

Unlearn Me — { Luigi x Reader}

Content: SFW, angst, yearning, slight pining, mentions of canon back pain, ex’s reminiscing, heartbreak all over again.

Wc: 4,336 (holy shit)

Notes; Two semesters of carefully crafted distance crumbles at 3AM in the computer lab when your final project implodes hours before the deadline, leaving you with no choice but to seek help from the one person you've been avoiding since the breakup.

Before we continue, I cannot ignore that wildfires continue to ravage Los Angeles, countless families have lost their homes and livelihoods. I urge you to consider supporting those affected through any of these donation links, additionally, Roadogs on Instagram is looking for fosters for mass evacuations of shelter dogs in California.

Foster or donate if you can. xo.

Now, let’s go.

"Mother fucker," you curse, attacking your keyboard with increasingly desperate keystrokes.

Each combination might be the one to salvage this disaster, but deep down you know it's hopeless — your software has corrupted itself into oblivion, taking six months of work with it.

"You can ask for an extension," Emma suggests, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion that matches your own. Your roommate had burst into the media center still wearing her pink silk pajamas, immediately launching into a nervous tirade about after-hours permissions and potential expulsion risks.

Her constant hovering and worrying grates on your last nerve, and you tell her to leave.

Predictably, she refuses.

"Listen, I'm not just gonna leave you here on your own." She leans across your workspace, her body pressing against your laptop screen until it tilts halfway closed. You freeze, fingers suspended above the keys, terrified of losing what little progress you've made in this digital archaeology expedition. "There's - like - a murderer on campus."

"One girl said she was followed home," you gently remind. Under normal circumstances, Emma's mother-hen routine would be endearing — charming, even. But right now, with your project in shambles and deadline looming, her protective hovering feels suffocating. "Not murdered, Em."

"May as well have been." Emma fixes you with that look — the one that screams why am I the only rational person here? While her nails tap nervously against your desk. "Probably hasn't left her room since. And you know what? Smart girl.”

You scrub your hands over your face, your eyes fixed on the projector's word vomit — an endless stream of error messages and unintelligible code painting the drywall from a tired projector like some twisted modern art piece.

Not exactly what you were going for.

Emma stands mesmerized, "How did you even do this?" She watches the cryptic display crawl across the wall, her eyes tracking each line as if she could decode it. "This reminds me of-" she catches herself, the name hanging unspoken between you. She's learned that lesson the hard way. "This is wild.”

You can't help but notice.

Notice how she almost speaks his name, how these meaningless strings of letters and numbers somehow bridge the gap to memories you've tried so hard to bury — promises whispered under star-sprinkled skies, fingers intertwined beneath the cosmic glow.

Moments that felt eternal then, ephemeral now.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, lying face-down like a surrender.

You blink several times, trying to clear the ghosts from your vision before speaking, your voice emerging barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves might shatter something in the air, "Should I text him?" You ask, offering the idea as if it was something too controversial to be spoken aloud.

Emma shifts her weight, both from exhaustion and the sudden weight of responsibility.

Your night's trajectory now rests in her hands — she who has witnessed every shade of you, from triumph to devastation. Her own memories of him surface: the way he'd raid her ice cream stash only to replace it with a premium pint the next day, how he'd tackle the dish mountain without prompting, those small gestures that made him feel like family.

"He was my favorite boyfriend of yours," she'd told you once, in a moment of wine-honest conversation. "He was a good boy."

A good boy who made a couple mistakes.

But those mistakes had compounded like interest on a debt you never agreed to pay, until the rift between you and Luigi widened into an ocean.

Everything good had been pulled out with the tide — your trust, your shared future — swept away to depths where no light could reach.

"I-" Emma's hand finds the back of her neck, her expression cycling through a slideshow of conflicted emotions. You can see her internal struggle; the desire to crawl into her bed warring with her loyalty to you. And she knows you well enough to realize you'd stay here until sunrise if necessary. "I mean — babe, I love you, but you can't fix this." The admission seems to pain her, as if acknowledging your limitations feels like betrayal. "We aren't techies."

You stare helplessly at your gutted gallery, stripped bare by your own accidental digital vandalism. Your artwork, your portfolio, your future — all reduced to incomprehensible strings of code projected onto an indifferent wall.

"Do you think he'd come?" The question escapes before you can stop it, your eyes magnetized to your phone as if your stare alone could resurrect that old text thread, buried beneath months of careful silence.

"Of course he would."

A soft, defeated whine escapes you as you turn back to glare at your corrupted work, as if you could intimidate it into fixing itself through sheer force of will.

Emma's voice softens, "Hey, he's mature enough to understand you've exhausted your options."

A violent shudder runs through you at the thought of Luigi being your last resort.

You'd managed to exile the visceral memories — the heated arguments that left you gasping for air, the promises that turned to vapor in the morning light.

"Which are?"

Emma looks down at her Pokemon-clad self, then back at you. "Me." She gestures vaguely in your direction, "and you."

The campus sleeps around you, everyone else lost to their dreams or late-night calls home. Just the two of you remain, trapped in this dimly-lit purgatory on a Wednesday night, while error messages mock your existence with their endless scroll.

"Slim pickin's," you mutter as your fingers betray you, finding Luigi's contact with muscle memory that refuses to die.

How many times had you pressed these same digits before?

But this is different.

Different because you haven't spoken since that night in your kitchen, when you stood with your back to him, voice steady despite the trembling in your hands, "So, we aren't going to try to figure this out?" You asked, and he’d responded with some pretentious comparison about your relationship being like corrupted code, fundamentally flawed, destined to fail its own quality test.

The irony isn't lost on you — the very metaphor he used to end things is now the thread that might pull you back into his orbit. Your only connection besides the elaborate dance of avoidance across campus, treating each other's paths like holy ground neither dares to tread.

Opening the thread, you're greeted by your last exchange — your final words to him blazing across the screen in angry blue bubbles: "I want my fucking shit back or I'll make your life a living hell." Such poetry. Your new message hovers in the text box, simpler, desperate in its brevity.

Hey need help with somethin. U up??

You thrust your phone at Emma like it's burning your fingers, watching her eyes widen as they catch on those months-old texts — digital artifacts of your rage that should have been scrubbed before tonight's desperate plea. "Jesus," she whispers, amusement dancing in her expression. "I'd still be licking my wounds if I were hi-"

The familiar buzz cuts through the air, a notification chime that once made your heart leap but now makes it sink.

"What'd he say?" You mumble, gaze fixed on the mocking projection that bathes the room in its sickly digital glow, code continuing its relentless march across the wall.

Emma settles into a chair, hunching over your laptop's makeshift altar. "Said he's at Ruddy's." She squints at a fresh message. "He said 'what do you want?'" She deepens her voice into a cartoonish baritone, making him sound like a caveman discovering text messaging for the first time.

You can't blame him for the cold response — you’d scorched that earth thoroughly.

But a selfish part of you wants to delete the whole exchange, pretend this moment of weakness never happened, go back to the careful choreography of avoiding each other's existence.

But you can't.

The corrupted gallery looming on the wall is a stark reminder that pride is a luxury you can't afford right now.

His icy reception is the natural consequence of your scorched-earth campaign, those venom-laced messages sent in the throes of heartbreak and confusion.

You'd played the role of the woman scorned perfectly, even though you'd written your own tragic script.

"Just send him a picture." You wave listlessly at the wall, where your work continues its digital decomposition, folding in on itself like a dying star. The error messages stretch into an endless serpent of nonsense, each iteration making less sense than the last.

The artificial shutter sound of Emma's photo breaks the silence, followed by the soft swoosh of sending. The wait feels eternal until-

Ding

Emma's attention snaps to your phone resting on her thigh, her eyes widening. "He's typing like he-"

Sorry;m,, I’m fucked uo

Up

I am

fucked up

Emma clicks her tongue and rises, crossing the room to lob your phone into your lap, screen up. "Guess some things don't change." You manage a weak half-grin, memories flooding back unbidden — Luigi stumbling into your dorm in the small hours, wrapped in whiskeys warmth, all soft edges and desperate hands.

"Well, make up your mind." Emma's yawn threatens to unhinge her jaw, arms wrapping around herself like armor. "Are we done here, or are you gonna have him come take a look?"

I’n be there son

I’ll be rherw soo

I’ll be there soon

You stand to wrap your arms around Emma’s shoulders who reluctantly curves her arms upward to squeeze your shoulders. “Go home.” She seems reluctant to listen, staring at your phone screen as if it would take her home itself. “I promise, I’ll be just fine.”

The space between you pulses with that unique warmth reserved for someone who shares your roof, your darkest secrets, and the monthly struggle with Con Edison. "Just don't make any brash decisions."

"Oh, Em." You press a kiss to her forehead. "You think I'm so much cooler than I am."

Emma's laugh follows her as she spins toward the door, collecting pieces of herself like breadcrumbs — the scarf draped over a chair, the coat hung forgotten, the backpack abandoned when the day still held promise.

Each item a marker of how long this digital nightmare has stretched, from sunshine to moonlight.

And as if summoned by cosmic irony, the lab door swings open to reveal Luigi. "Oh - hey, E." The surprise flickers across his face before he schools his features back to neutral.

"Hey, Lu." Her greeting carries the easy familiarity of their old routine, like NPCs in a cozy game exchanging preset dialogue, their paths crossing exactly as programmed.

"You g'na help me with this?"

Emma shakes her head, patting his shoulder as she passes — a gentle handoff. "I did my time." You want to protest, but words fail as you absorb the sight of him, eight months of careful avoidance crumbling in an instant.

"Ahh-" Luigi waves, feigning disappointment through the druken haze. "Need a walk back home?"

Ever the shepherd, guardian of late-night wanderers.

It didn't matter who you were — friend, stranger, ex-lover’s best friend and roommate — his self-appointed mission to ensure everyone's safe return never wavered.

You'd once wondered if it stemmed from some deeper anxiety, his mind unable to rest until every sheep was accounted for in its fold.

Tonight though, the alcohol has mercifully dulled that protective instinct. Emma's potential disappearance into the night ranks lower on his list of concerns than usual, although Emma herself had been the one earlier to warn you of the murderer on campus.

"You still got my location," Emma reminds him — a callback to conversations past, to the day she'd granted Luigi permanent access to her whereabouts, a level of trust you'd wisely withheld.

"Right."

She presses a kiss to her fingers, flashing you a peace sign with the same hand before it briefly lands on Luigi's shoulder. Then she's gone, disappearing into the snow-globe world he'd just stumbled in from. He stands before you now, arms hanging like dead weight, his eyes somehow both wide and narrow.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey."

You gesture weakly at the wall where your work writhes in digital agony. "So, uh — remember that time you salvaged Professor Wren’s entire thesis when her drive crashed?"

Luigi's eyes follow your hand, professional interest temporarily overriding the awkwardness. He steps closer, squinting at the corrupted display, "Jesus," he mutters, "what did you do to it?"

"Would you believe me if I said nothing?" The laugh that escapes is more nervous than you'd like. "It just. - it started disintegrating during final checks."

He's already pulling out his laptop, muscle memory from countless late-night tech rescues. The familiarity of it hits you in the chest — how many times had you watched him do this same thing, hunched over his keyboard, bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration?

"I can try," he says finally, not quite meeting your eyes. "But no promises. When's this due?"

"Tomorrow at nine."

"Of course it is." He drops into the chair beside you, close enough that your elbows almost touch, but enough of a distance to still feel far away. “Okay, walk me through what it's supposed to look like when it's not — uh - whatever this is."

For a moment, Luigi stares at the corrupted display where red pixels bleed and stutter across the wall. His fingers hover over his keyboard, then pause. "Wait. This is your circulatory modeling project? The one you were-“ He cuts himself off, remembering this was before the eight months of silence.

"Yeah." You swallow. "It was working perfectly until an hour ago. Real-time hemodynamics, pressure differentials, vessel elasticity. Everything." Your voice cracks slightly on the last word, feeling more helpless when you verbalize it.

He nods, already typing with uncanny precision despite the slight sway in his posture. "Show me the base code. Did you save any backups?"

"Three. All corrupted." You lean forward, careful not to crowd him as you pull up the mangled files. "It's like something got into the core simulation and just - I dunno - started rewriting them."

"Hm." His eyes scan the screen with that laser focus he somehow maintains no matter how much he drinks, that familiar furrow appearing between his brows. "These values are cascading. One corrupted variable triggering a chain reaction through the whole system." He glances at you, slightly overshooting before correcting. "When's the last time it ran correctly?"

You check your phone. "6:43 PM. I have a screen recording from then."

"Good. That's good." He pulls up a second window, his typing still flawless even as he reaches with his free hand to steady himself against the desk. "We can compare the execution logs, maybe isolate where it started going wrong." His fingers fly across the keys with a precision that seems to mock his clearly inebriated state, and for a moment, it feels like those eight months never happened. "I'm going to need coffee for this." He looks up at you from where he sat, “Or more booze.”

You land on coffee, your feet carrying you down the familiar path to the kitchenette.

The fluorescent lights flicker dimly at this hour, casting strange shadows across the linoleum, the lab's overpriced espresso machine hums to life under your touch, its gentle whirring a counterpoint to the distant sound of Luigi's typing.

Suddenly you're back in that first year, both of you hunched over at 3 AM, him teaching you the proper way to pull a shot: “You're murdering it, stop torturing the beans”, your quiet laughter echoing through empty halls.

"Got it.” His voice carries down the corridor, slurred but triumphant, snapping you back to present.

You return to find him illuminated by screen-glow, his tie loosened and dark hair disheveled. The paper cup lands in front of him — double shot, one packet of raw sugar.

He doesn't stir it, never has.

Instead, he tips the cup back, and you hear that familiar crunch of sugar crystals between his teeth, a sound that used to drive you crazy, until somewhere along the way it became endearing.

Still, the jumbled code taunts you from the screen, though its chaos seems less threatening now. Under Luigi's touch — steady despite the alcohol — your final project is slowly remembering its original shape.

"You should have texted sooner," Luigi murmurs, tilting his head back to collect the last sugar crystals from his cup. The movement exposes his throat, his collar wrinkled where he's been tugging at it all night.

"Well," you say, watching the way his fingers dance across the keys, each stroke precise despite his obvious intoxication, "takes a minute to swallow something as big as my pride."

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, eyes never leaving the screen where broken code is knitting itself back together under his attention.

"Oh," he huffs out a laugh, the sound low and dangerous in the quiet lab, "I've seen you swallow far bigger things before."

It strikes like summer lightning — quick, bright, and leaving the air charged in its wake. The innuendo lands with no real bite, yet you find your jaw slack, a startled laugh shaking loose from your chest.

"Kidding," Luigi says, his eyes flicking from screen to you and back again. There’s a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, softened by the alcohol but still sharp enough to cut. You wave him back to his work, grateful for the blue glow of monitors that hides your flush. "You kinda set that up perfectly, though."

He squints up at the projection where your broken code still bleeds across the wall, letting out a soft grunt of frustration at some digital roadblock. "Just mean — ya know, you could have caught me two beers deep instead of seven."

You shrug a shoulder, watching as the projection slowly crystallizes into something recognizable. "Seems you work better under such conditions."

The lie tastes metallic.

You both know the truth.

Luigi would have come if he was sober as sunrise or drowning in bourbon. Would have come with broken ribs or pneumonia or his heart barely beating. Would have traced these familiar hallways blind, deaf, or dying — because that's what the two of you do.

Have always done.

You've seen him at rock bottom, curled into himself on cold bathroom tiles at midnight, trembling hands pressed against his mouth as if he could physically hold back the pain that wracked his body. Watched him try to explain to puzzled doctors how someone so young could hurt so constantly, the frustration in his voice when they suggested it was all in his head.

You were there through the trials of medications, the nights when existence itself seemed too heavy to bear.

And you've seen him soar; standing tall in that charcoal suit that made him look older, more polished, shaking hands with tech giants who saw in him what you'd always known was there, his future spreading out before him like a golden road, brilliant and boundless.

Now he sits here, seven drinks deep but coding like he's never been clearer, and you realize that maybe both versions are equally true.

Maybe that's what makes him Luigi — the ability to contain multitudes, to be simultaneously broken and brilliant, wounded and wonderful.

He catches you watching him and raises an eyebrow, the gesture slightly delayed, which means you must have been a bit too obvious. "What?"

"Nothing.”

His fingers pause on the keys, and even through the alcoholic haze, his gaze pins you like a butterfly to cork. "No, really. What?" The words have a slight blur around their edges, but his focus is knife-sharp.

You could deflect again, but there's something about 4 AM and code that glows like dying stars that makes honesty feel less dangerous, perhaps you’re finding comfort in the fact that Luigi is drunk, although you’re stone cold sober.

"Just thinking about that time in the Thompson building bathroom." Your voice comes out softer than intended. "When you couldn't stand up, and I had to convince the janitor you had food poisoning."

He doesn't flinch from the memory like he used to.

Instead, his mouth curves into something caught between a smile and a grimace. "You told him it was from the cafeteria." His fingers resume their dance across the keyboard, but slower now. "Got the whole place investigated by health services."

"Yeah, but got us three days off while they checked fucking everything.” you remind him.

"Got me through that week," he corrects quietly, and for a moment, the mask of that brilliant-drunk-techie slips, showing the man underneath who still remembers what it feels like to be held together by nothing but someone else's faith in you.

Then he blinks, and the vulnerability is gone, replaced by that familiar crooked grin. "Though I maintain the cafeteria deserved the inspection anyway."

The projection flickers, another section of code healing itself under his touch, and you wonder if he knows you'd do it all again.

Every bathroom floor, every late-night crisis, every moment of putting him back together - you'd choose it every time.

"Speaking of which," you venture carefully, watching his hands move across the keyboard. "How's the new treatment working?"

His right shoulder shifts in what might be a shrug, but there's a shadow of a real smile playing at his mouth.

Not the sharp, defensive one he wears like armor, but something softer, more genuine. "Six months post-op and I actually slept through the night last week. First time in -“ he pauses, considering, "Fuck, I don't even remember how long."

The admission hangs in the air between you, weighted with the two years of 2 AM phone calls, of nights spent pacing, of pain medications that never quite touched the core of the problem.

Watching him try to code through hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

"Still hurts sometimes," he adds, almost absently. "But it's different now. More like background noise than a scream." His fingers still on the keyboard, and for a moment he looks almost surprised by his own words. "Guess that's what normal people feel like all the time, huh?"

The question carries an edge of wonder, like someone who's lived in darkness suddenly discovering dawn.

You watch him roll his shoulder — a gesture that used to be followed by a wince but now flows smooth and unconscious — and think about how strange it must be, learning to live without constant pain after it's become part of your identity.

"Though I kind of miss having an excuse to drunk-code at 4 AM" he adds, but you both know it's a lie.

The code blurs on the projection as silence settles between you, charged with something that's been building for ages — through bathroom floors and hospital visits, through triumphs and failures, through pain and healing.

The alcohol has stripped away Luigi’s careful boundaries, leaving raw honesty in their place.

"You know," Luigi says slowly, finally turning from the screen to face you fully, "I never thanked you properly. For all of it."

"You don't need to-"

Your diagram pulses back to life, the holographic heart rotating lazily against the wall.

Its red glow bathes the room in a surreal warmth, catching on the sharp angles of Luigi's face, softening them into something almost dreamlike.

The light flickers across his cheekbones, turns his eyes to amber, makes the whole moment feel suspended between reality and imagination.

"I do." His voice is quiet but firm, steadier than someone seven drinks deep should manage. "Because I've been thinking — now that I can actually think clearly without-“he gestures vaguely at his back, at all the years of pain, "I've been thinking about how you're the only constant. The only person who never-“ He trails off.

You lean a little closer, drawn by the vulnerability in his voice. "Never what?"

"Never saw me as broken." He turns himself toward you, and there's something desperate in his eyes, something the alcohol has finally given him the courage to show. "Never treated me like I needed fixing. Just stayed. Through everything."

Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. He takes your silence as a sign, turning back to the screen with a sharp exhale that might be resignation or relief — you're not sure which would be worse.

"Lu,” you say softly, and something in your voice makes his fingers still on the keyboard. "Look at me."

He does, slowly, like he's afraid of what he might find.

The neon bathes half his face in crimson, leaving the other half in shadow, and you see the moment his carefully constructed walls start to crumble.

"Time hasn’t changed that much about me.” you say, each word deliberate, heavy with meaning.

His breath catches audibly. You watch the impact of your words ripple across his face — surprise, understanding, and something else, something that makes your heart race against your ribs.

"Hasn’t it?” Luigi is focusing on you now, the reason he really came here now practically completed but pushed aside until further notice. “Eight months is a long time to hold onto -“ he gestures vaguely between you, as if he can’t quite say what it was. Hopeless devotion, the right person, wrong time.

“Not long enough to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“You.”

His breath catches again, a sharp inhale that seems to pull all the oxygen from the room. When he speaks, his voice is rough and ragged, “Maybe that’s the problem.” His gaze drifts down to watch as you lick your lips, and back up again. “Maybe you should have.”

[betweenthescarletmoon]

Random Thoughts on the Arcane Fandom about Jayce

this is gonna be a mess but I have nowhere else to talk about this.

I've recently noticed how Jayce Talis has been subjected to all kinds of sexualization since the drop of Act 2 of the second season. People have mentioned many times how trauma has made him "hot". A good and well-known example of this is Danny Motta's reaction to episode 5, where he said, "Holy shit, they made Jayce hot! [...] My dude went from looking like a Muppet to the king of Rohan, and all it took was a little bit of trauma."

This isn't entirely new for him? If people didn't hate Jayce back in S1, they ogled him in the scene where he works on the Forge shirtless, which IS kinda the point because the animators are making him very obviously attractive. But most importantly, he as a character has been reduced to his sexual or romantic relationships since the beginning of time.

It seems that S2 is a response to this in a way. His arc from the ending of S1, where he took responsibility of his actions out of guilt for the child he killed, was slightly set aside for Viktor. Well, ALL of his life, dreams, decisions, everything about him was eclipsed by Viktor's shadow because of the whole "all times, all possibilities" twist. He wasn't expected to show up as a Councilor in any of the meetings, and we must assume he quits at some point, but he surely hasn't resigned from his position by the time Viktor wakes up. Apart from that much needed scene between him and Cait, and the one where he attends the memorial (and is attacked by a vengeful mother), we don't see many of his decisions or what leads him to make them, other than Viktor. This is beautiful in a way because we can SEE how it is a trauma response to losing him. He is obsessive by nature, and he clings to what keeps him and his loved ones safe excessively, but I still had to do a bit of mental gymnastics as to why he went back on the second promise: to not build Hextech weapons again. (Hint: it has to do with the fact that VI saved him with HIS weapon, but it went so fast it's hard to process in the first watch.)

Now back to the sexualization problem. Every time I look up his name and trauma, or PTSD, 95% of the results are thirst edits on Tiktok about how hot he is. No joke. One of the more serious results is my own edit. Of course, a lot of people connect with his suffering without naming it as trauma, and that is great. My concern is that there has been so much focus on Jinx's trauma, Viktor's trauma, even Silco's trauma (which are all valid and fascinating to explore), but there's less attention for other characters who clearly show how their own traumatic experiences has shaped them. Vi, Caitlyn, and Jayce are some of the clearest examples of this, and they've experienced some truly heinous things in the show. Trauma cannot be compared, ever. But why is it that Jayce, who lived through an apocalypse that HE knows HE caused, and lives in complete isolation except the "company" of metal watchers, to the point that he loses touch with reality, and is changed so irrevocably that he loses the naivety and starry-eyed optimism that has always defined him...is seen as hot? And more importantly, why is it that there is very little attention to his experiences on that cave? Every scene between him and Viktor is uploaded in 1080 HD quality, but the scenes of him alone? Fighting to survive? Showing remarkable resilience in the face of his suffering? No, that's not as fun. Not a single one of those scenes is uploaded fully, and I have checked many times. (Some people have actually skipped those scenes to focus on Timebomb. I'm...)

I went online and looked up "why do people sexualize traumatized characters" because let's face it, it's real, it's interesting, and I cannot judge or else I am a hypocrite. Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ellie Williams, Dean Winchester, Vi herself, the list goes on much longer but I can't think of others off the top of my head. We connect with their suffering, and we are pulled by their experiences.

However, Jayce is such a complicated case because he is usually thought of as the greedy himbo that fumbled two baddies, or the confused bisexual, or the guy who lost it because of a situationship (much like Vi, who DID NOT lose it because of a failed romantic endeavor bfr). And then the plot goes and tells us, "Actually, yeah, his life outside of Viktor doesn't matter, he's not even supposed to be alive, because Viktor saved him. All of time is completely inextricable from Viktor." People hate meljay because she manipulated him and "trapped" him in a relationship or something, only to celebrate it when something suspiciously similar happens with the male romantic interest? I initially thought it was beautiful too, bc Soulmates, but man. Mage!Viktor really left the man he loved to rot in complete isolation, eating raw reptiles until throwing up, losing his mind. Say what you want about the allegory for Viktor's life, at least Viktor's isolation was metaphorical up until the Glorious Evolution.

Despite us being shown this, people make thirst edits of him in his black fit, and fighting with sexual tension with Viktor. I fear...that I am the only one who finds this tragic. The man forced to create a larger than life persona to sell his work and be seen as an attractive pawn of the system, has become the attractive pawn of the narrative. Viktor's narrative.

Perhaps Viktor was forgotten by the world. But Jayce's kind heart, and brave soul, were forgotten by us.

Just some thoughts to chew about my favorite character and my wish that more people focused on his arc with me

[blkkizzat]

tw: discourse, plagiarism, drama, etc. im a bit snarky here but i reserve that right. the truth could never be a diss.

I hate that it had to come to this as I have had this blog since Aug 2023 without ever having to do something like this. But being gaslit and when people start blatantly playing in my face like I’m stupid is where I draw the line. I will not tolerate any kind of plagiarism with fics I work hard to create for free while working full-time and going to grad school.

Tumblr user @/rissouu has plagiarized my work. Specifically part 3 of Plug!Choso fic (with minor things from the end of part 2) with their brat taming/plug!choso smut drabble. I posted p3 of my fic on 7/3/24 they posted their drabble on 1/1/25 [screenshots below].

Note: This is not a direct word for word copy, but heavy detailed inspiration including dialogue, actions, reactions, sexual situations, etc. It’s been said to me by many other people I have consulted to get their opinions, that it reads like a watered down, condensed, version of my smut scene —and I would have to wholeheartedly agree.

(more details below)

Now to be clear: I do NOT own any concept. I hope I can effectively convey in this post I am NOT doing all this because someone wrote plug!choso or brat taming!choso and combined them. There has been plenty of both, even combined, well before I even wrote my fic and has been in the months after, none of them have been anything like my fic. Also these have BEEN my sentiments as I expressed this months ago when I kept getting TNMN concept asks/dms after my fics:

Not to mention I give tutorials and share methods of how to do my graphics, formatting fics, writing tips, etc as I believe in knowledge and information sharing. I haven’t ever played gatekeeper on a single thing. 

Sidenote: 98% of the people who have ever tagged me as inspo credit per my statement above didn't even need to do so. But I appreciate they did. It shows their character and integrity that they would even consider doing so when its not 100% needed nor expected, so thank you!

the drabble @/rissouu posted is on the far left column and specific excerpts from my plug!choso fic are in boxes in the middle and to the right. Each box on the drabble is color-coded and connected to corresponding boxes with my excerpts. Every single paragraph connects to my fic: 

Now, the crazy thing here is @/rissouu even tags this drabble #plug!choso as the first tag. Yet there is not one mention of drugs or plugs or even a damn ibuprofen anywhere lmfao. When confronted on this they said—

"it's strictly to give that kind of aggressive/dominant or stoner man vibes, so i don't care as much to input it into the writing itself. me tagging it as 'plug choso' [...] is simply to reach out to my audiences who like the concept of plug!choso. i do this mostly for my girlies of color who i try to reach out to more because it's what they request and like." [full convo screens at the very bottom]

Now, I'm ignoring the problematic implications that only poc girls would like or write plugs, so I'm gonna table that and y'all can make what you want of it. What I want to focus on is this weakass excuse. It's the fact that writing a plug/drug dealer fics does not make that character automatically aggressive or outwardly stoner. There's infinite ways to write a single concept [and as someone who has actually done alot of party drugs and had many dealers living in nyc before, the best dealers are the ones who don't look or act like ones!]. So it's mind boggling a writer would explicitly tag a concept because they were too lazy to actually write it in the fic. Then assumes everyone will interpret it the exact same way and get their meaning from the tag of a generic concept and not their actual story lol 😭. Insanity.

100% transparency, I thought the fic was rip way before I even got to the bottom to see the plug!choso tag. The tag just confirmed it more for me.

Now even with ALL this, I still likely wouldn’t have brought it to the TL. Even though I think it’s clear she took inspo from me and is straight lying through her teeth, I could have let it go. However the next thing @/rissouu did was so insane and shameless, I can't let it go. Like personal creativity and imagination in the trenches but plenty of audacity to spare. This is just a slap in the face.

So the timeline (pst) goes like this:

@6:20pm @/rissouu replies a few times, she explicitly says she will read my chapter to see if there are any similarities. [full convo screens at the bottom]

@7:06pm I posted rm!choso and babydaddy!toji who reader has a baby girl with but they broke up.

@8:59pm @/rissouu posts babydaddy!Choso who reader has a baby girl by but they broke up and takes ANOTHER part of dialogue/reaction from p3 of plug!choso.

Is this real life?

I know if someone accused me of plagiarizing them and I told them I would read their work to check… I wouldn’t in less than 3 hours later post a drabble with one of the same concepts from a fic they just posted 2 hrs ago, and then turn around use the more dialogue/reactions from the other fic they just accused me of stealing from, that I just told them I was going to read!! And I for damn sure wouldn’t have claimed to have just “pulled this outta my ass” !?!? Like @/rissouu really said, fuck all of what kali saying and her artistic integrity with this post loud and clear lmfaooo.

Sorry but *in remy ma voice* b*tch is you DUMB!? Like I know I'm cracking jokes right now, but this situation is so ridiculous it’s gotta be a joke, so I’m treating it like one. They clownin’ with the whole damn circus cause wtf is this 😭😭?? 

You know what else is circus behavior? This disclaimer: 

Lol… so consequences for everyone else but you girl? Okay lmfao. Like such aggressive disclaimers for someone doing exactly that.

Ironic though that all 3 times I have had to confront someone about plagiarism/inspo (in dms) in the past couple months I have been gaslit in the exact same ways.

Their first defense is always “this is a common concept” —Sure, but it shouldn’t be executed in the exact same way, so closely to my fic that's why I'm speaking up.

Their second defense is always, “oh I have written this [topic, headcanon, dialogue] before.” Great. I’m not speaking of those prior times, I’m ONLY concerned that 100% of their current drabble mirrors my fic. They could have written 50 drabbles on this topic/concept, there's no reason any of them should so closely mirror mine.

Finally, the third thing is (after proof is given): “well you don’t own the use of these details or these words. so I didn't copy!” No, I don’t own the individual words or phrases or actions. What I DO own is how those individual words, phrases or actions come together in the fic I wrote. The fic that @/rissouu mirrored and diluted. 

One more thing before screenshots of the full convo. You can see on the very first one below that I had been following @/rissouu for 11 months lol, so since 1 month after they created their account. Granted, I don’t think we’ve interacted much at all as I do follow lots of people but I try to spend most of my free time writing or interacting with commenters, anons, closer moots or those who reach out to me. But I know for a fact i've seen them in my notifications before liking things, even in the last week and I honestly thought they followed me at one point lol. That's one of the reasons I was shocked to discover this. So the fact they would try to say they never heard of me or my story or seen my fics ever is looney tunes fr. Not to mention plug!choso is probably the fic people have recco'd the most from me. None of that is important to me though, so I don’t really care about anything but the facts that she took heavy inspo from me and is refusing to even acknowledge that it's pretty weird/odd/uncommon considering how similar they are. (sorry i would have taken screenshots of notifications but i barely got the chat before it disappears after two ppl block each other)

screenshots of our convo here:

As you can see, they apparently think i'm casper. they refuse to acknowledge they know me, or take it down, or give me credit and has me blocked now, so here we are.

Lastly... no one under any circumstances should be harassing or sending anyone hate! If you don’t like what they did, unfollow/block. If you don’t like what I am doing now or don’t agree, unfollow/block. I won't be offended if you do, if you don't like me , you don't like me. Please curate your own experiences.

Also, may choose to answer clarifying questions about this in public asks or comments but I reserve the right not to (even if you are in support of me). Honestly this is all so mentally draining and taking away from the things I actually want to do with my blog and I always feel really bad when I miss responding to comments people leave on my stories/works. So I will likely mute notifications on this. Like I could have been actually writing the many fics in my backlog last night or answering the very sweet or slutty asks in my inbox instead of writing this. I've always tried to keep my blog a pretty positive, goofy, unserious, slutty and drama-free place and I won't let this change that.

Additionally, no overly hateful/bashing comments towards me or @/rissouu will be answered/tolerated. If tumblr had an option to turn off comments on individual posts, I would for this one. I'm not going to waste time justifying something that is clear as day to me and many others. If anyone wants to play Stevie Wonder too, go for it! Nor do I want to waste energy bashing someone and beating a dead horse. I know what they did, they know what they did. @/rissouu wants to steal, lie and play games? Let them do it on their own, I guess. Clout is a helluva drug and I suppose my Plug!Choso was the best dealer for that but call me Desiree Perez cause imma snitch!

I'd prefer anyone really wanting to talk with me about this further and has something to say —good or bad, DM me.

—🎀 Kali

[destroyerofgirls]

Im BEGGING for you to write about forcemascing a soft trans guy.. 🙏

Only cause you're begging :)

I'm so proud of you sweetheart, you finally admit that you're a boy. You took your first step. The only problem is how soft you are. No, sweetheart, I'm not mad. I'm just prepared to help you learn how to be more of a man.

I know, I know, guys can be sensitive. You're very sensitive, aren't you my good boy? Yeah you are, but you let people walk all over you, they treat you like shit. And you let them. Why do you let them?

Aww, sweetheart, I'm not blaming you. Really, I blame myself. I haven't taught you how to be a man yet. Everyone sees you as scum, they treat you like a baby, but I'm going to change that.

Be a good boy and take your clothes off for me. There we go. Such a good boy for me.

Y'know, I think it's time we start you on testosterone. Make that dick start growing, make your voice deepen, make you hairy.

You don't want to be hairy? Sweetheart there's nothing to be scared of, you'll still be smokin hot handsome. It's okay to be hairy. Do you know how many people get turned on by body hair? I'm not letting you shave anymore.

How would you feel about topping tonight? You don't know? Here, just use the strap I usually use. Mhm, roll a condom on. Good boy. Here, I'm going to lay down, put my legs over your shoulders. Now, you're going to push in, don't be scared, love, I can take it.

Aw, fuckk, good boy. Yeah baby, you're gonna fuck me nice and hard. We're going to keep doing this until you're good at it, okay?

Nice and slow, there we go. After this, we're going to go and buy you some new clothes. Mhm, we'll get you some more neutral colors, some clothes that fit you, some that are baggy, we'll even buy you some work boots.

Go a little faster. Fuck, that's good, you're doing good. Maybe we should change your hair to a more masculine look. How does that sound? We'll get you some shampoo that doesn't smell like a field of flowers. Replace that perfume with some nice cologne. Don't worry, we won't cheap out.

Faster, God, go deeper, please. Oh God, you got my submissive side coming out a bit, you're such a good boy. You're doing so well. You know what I want sweetheart? I want you to make me feel so so good.

Of course you're so good at it in those other days, but I want you to try it this way. We'll get you a new strap, we'll get you a new cock so you can fuck me. Yeah, you want that don't you? I know you do. Fuck, you want me to feel good. Don't you want to make me a submissive bitch more often? Fuck, I know you do, love, I want that too. We're going to have to practice a lot more. Fuck, fuck, fuuckk I'm going to cum baby. Keep going.

[tumblingxelian]

Gonna ignore the Anakin defenses to focus on OPs stuff cos I completely and totally get you, seriously. I just wanna focus on the Tuskan's actually cos like here's why so many fics do not vibe for me:

1: No one but Padme knows!

What I mean is Ashoka, Obi-Wan, the other Jedi, ETC, no one gets to choose whether or not they are OK hanging out with child murderer mcgee.

Unlike say... Catra, or eve Vegeta, where everyone's either directly or at least passively aware of the sit they pulled & can make a decision on whether to engage with them. None of these other characters can do so. Their view of Anakin is inherently stilted and ill informed.

2: This could be interesting, but!

I do not get the sense that the authors writing these care all that much that he murdered those children. In some stuff I've skimmed it kind of just seemed ignored and wile that 'can' work if the author is cognizant to the implications there-of, if they aren't...

Well it ends up feeling extremely skeezy to me at best. Very, "Well the white boy I like got his happy ending, let's just ignoring the pile of mutilated babies he's been standing ankle deep in since forever."

Conclusion:

Basically, one could tell an interesting story where Anakin doesn't fall, and potentially even no one finds out what he did.

Though it'd be a HARD sell.

But doing so would necessitate, at a bare minimum, treating the Tusken's as people whose lives had value. Or even just as what they were, narrative tools to signal Anakin's willing embrace of not just the Dark Side. But also his willingness, even when not being manipulated or juiced up on Dark Side to just wash his hands of all that death.

Its why I never really enjoy those comedic, "Oh Anakin took a nap and didn't betray anyone, happy ending for all" AUs, cos I'm like... He still murdered a ton of babies and children and while I can handle characters being unaware of that, I can't take the authors acting like it is not a thing, not a part of his character or canon.

Does that make sense?

I’m gonna be honest, one of the main reasons why I can never really understand any defense of Anakin or get behind a good majority of “Anakin redemption” fics, is the fact that he murdered children.

Like let's just ignore the multiple genocides and enslavement of the galaxy for a moment, since technically you could argue that he only had a hand in that and didn't actually do it all himself, Palpatine, manipulation, blah blah blah-

He personally murdered children.

On two separate occasions, mind you.

Yes, murdering adults is also bad---don't think I'm saying it's not---but at least adults can actually try to defend themselves, most of them don't depend on the people around them to survive, and they have years of experience living in the galaxy that's given them skills they could use to survive if they managed to get away.

Children do not have any of that or---if they're a bit older and do---the skills they have are extremely underdeveloped. They cannot defend themselves, they depend on the people around them for everything, they have not lived long enough to develop sufficient enough skills to survive on their own in a world that's turned against them.

Argue all you want about the Council being "evil" and "stagnant" and "needing to die for the betterment of whatever," argue all you want about the other Jedi being "terrible to Anakin" and "deserving" their murder because of whatever reason, the CHILDREN had done NOTHING!!!

What could the children that Anakin murdered have done to "deserve" such a fate? Why did they have to die? Why couldn't they have been spared.

And the Tuskens!

Even if we assume that all of the adults in that village were personally involved in murdering Shmi, why did he murder the children? What did they do to "deserve" murder, other than having no control over who they were born as?

And like, we see in TBoBF that the Tuskens aren't just heartless monsters, they protect their own especially their young---are you telling me that none of the children tried to run? That none of the parents or elders told them to go while they tried to fight Anakin off?

And still, Anakin hunted them down and murdered them.

So no, even if you could explain away all the other atrocities Anakin has committed, I still wouldn't think any less negatively about Anakin.

He murdered children.

And I don't think that's excusable.

[angelltheninth]

Heyheyyy!

I'm feeling cheeky so I wanted to ask for a little drabble for Maddie (if not her, than whoever you else,) - giving fem!reader her first orgasm with a partner/hcs on how your first time together would be? Thank you!

Of course I'm gonna write about my favorite ginger! I'm happy when people ask me about her, I have a few more requests for her too. Yay!

Pairing: Maddie Nolen x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, first orgasm, cunnilingus, fingering, orgasm encouragement, teasing, blushing, kissing, dirty talk, praise

Word count: 0.9k

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: If there is a Maddie Nolen fanclub I would like to enter please.

It was supposed to be just like any other night you spent together, kissing, talking, teasing but this time when you started you just didn't stop until both of you were naked. Maddie was never the one to waste precious time, least of all when she has an absolute feast in front of her.

Her lips were locked around your clit, her middle and ring finger fucking you quick and deep. Every little whimper she made when you pulled her hair traveled and vibrated exactly against your clit, making your while body tingle. Your eyes were getting misty, teary, harder to stay open as you felt the hot pleasure coiling low in your belly.

Suddenly, before it could reach it's peak you moved away from her, leaving her with a bewildered look on her face, mid-lick.

"Don't hide from me. You scared I'm gonna bite you or something?" She teased as her lips got closer and closer to where you wanted them most. But as soon as they brushed against your clit your hips jerked, you pushed her away and closed your legs again. "This doesn't work if you keep closing your legs. Is something wrong, love? Am I moving too fast for you?"

"No? Yes? I'm nervous." You bit your lower lip, not exactly knowing what to say that wouldn't be embarrassing for you.

"Nervous." She echoed, cheek resting on your thigh.

With a nod you continued, "Maddie I... I don't know what to expect."

"Hopefully to come." The ginger wiggled her eyebrows but her smug expression wavered when you embarrassingly looked away.

"I don't know what that feels like." You whispered into the silence between you two.

"What?!" Maddie couldn't believe this. How could you not know what it feels like? It was one of the best feelings one could have with their partner. "You never had an orgasm before? With a previous lover, or even by yourself?" Her face softened and she ran her hands soothing up and down your hips.

You shook your head, feeling that embarrassment with your whole body.

"Sweetheart, that's not right. You should get to experience that when you're having sex. The thought that you never did, that your exes didn't bother with your pleasure, it... it makes me angry." She shook that anger away for now. There would be time for that. Now she had more important things to take care of. She eased your legs open slowly, her eyes soft and touch just as so. "I want to make you come. Do you trust me enough to let me do that?"

"Of course I do." You reached down to cup her cheek and she leaned into your touch, planting a quick kiss on your palm and then your wrist. She grinned when your pulse spiked under her lips.

"Well then, I should get back to work shouldn't I? I'll make you come so hard, I promise you that." She had a lot of confidence but the skill with which she licked her tongue into your pussy and curled it upwards just a bit. But she didn't stay there for long, "I'll talk you through it, relax. Be a good girl for me, let me give you what you need, what your pussy needs." Her fingers pushed back in, which made you gasp and leaned forward, back tense and hands back in Maddie's ginger hair.

You didn't mind her taking the lead.

Maddie's fingers curled upwards when she pushed them in all the way, hitting that little spot inside of you that made you see stars every time. It made you half gasp, half whimper when she grinned against your clit at the noises you made. "Such pretty sounds from my pretty girl."

She licked a slow path from your aching clit to her fingers. Everything in her wanted to tease you but she didn't want to make you wait any longer for what she promised. Her lips returned to your clit, this time only kissing it, but doing so every time she fucked her fingers back into you.

"Maddie... I... fuck... ah!" You moaned faster, louder, felt your body grow hot and your pussy clenching around her fingers quicker.

"Yeah, I know, I know. Let it happen, come for me." She whispered against your clit and that was all it took. The pressure that you felt in your lower belly spread through your entire body, ending in your curling toes. "Good, doing so well, a bit more." You felt her fingers make a little scissor motion inside your cunt and your vision went white.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered her kissing your stomach while she eased her fingers out of your pussyhole. But you couldn't even muster the strength to pull her into a hug. Your entire body hummed, boneless. "Holy fucking shit. T-Thank you, I... oh my gods."

"Don't thank me for that, love. Although the way you look right now does give me an ego boost." She grinned at you, still between your legs. "You doing alright?"

"Mhm. Is it normal to not feel your legs?" You asked with a laugh welling up from your chest.

"Sometimes. Want a massage?" Her hands were already running up and down your legs by the time she asked the question. "It's good to calm down after an intense experience like that."

"Y-Yeah. That does feel nice." Better than any other time you had sex with anyone else. Maddie aimed to please. Always.

[unnamedcrane]

I'm gonna need to know so much more about this fairy au please and thank you I crave knowledge! All of it!

Oh god all of it?

*sweats profusely while glancing at 70 page doc*

Well... maybe some of it for now

So fairy au literally started from a joke I had with @erineas (which i do plan to mention some time, cause it's still very funny), but along their sona becoming a fairy mine also did and we started to come up with random little "lore bits"

Most of it is overlooked half the time, cause we're too focused on our skelebaes, buuut:

there's like bajilllion types of fairies, they're based in like plant types natural elements things like that (my sona is a flower fairy cause i am very basic like that) and more powerful fairies are based off of just well more "powerful" plants/elements if that makes sense

i was pushing so hard to try and figure out the magic and how it works and stuff, but I only have little bits and pieces and most of it is about fairy dust anyway

there were long conversations from my side about how fairy wings work, cause you know they're connected to the magic and are like... a bit of an equivalent to how magic works in monster souls? Like fairies wings would be the culmination of their magic in its most pure form (outside of fairy dust)

and depending how "magical" a fairy is that would make the wings more natural looking or more you know shimmery magical

because of all this wing lore, I had (still have?) trouble choosing wings for my fairy cause I'm insane

in other news there's fairy villages in the forests and I really wanted to base them in whatever disney fairies lore there is, but i quickly realized that I only watched those movies as a kid and I barely remember them

but yeah everyone is invited to my fairy village where we are all besties and we have the best time, being either:

a gremlin fairy (erineas)

a pwetty faiwy (me)

or yk anything in between, you can be a ladybug if you want to be

[supercap2319]

Reed fumbles with a device, looking befuddled, while Johnny tries to help, playing it cool. "Ah, come on, Reed, it's not that hard! You just need to..." Reed looks up, aghast, as Johnny accidentally causes the device to malfunctions. It sparks as Y/N walked into Reed's lab.

With a heavy sigh, Reed, running a hand through his hair as he picks up, and examines the damaged device. "Great, just great." Johnny looks sheepish, shrugging apologetically. "I was just trying to help, okay?" Reed shoots him a disapproving glare. "Help? You call that helping?"

"It was an accident, Reed. Don't be so uptight." Johnny said.

"Uptight? You think I'm being uptight?" Reed asked. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to calibrate this thing?"

"What was it supposed to do?" Y/N asked, making his presence known in the laboratory. Reed sighs, setting the device down. "It was supposed to be a new prototype for the force field generator. But now..."He gestures to the broken device. "Now, it's just a pile of useless parts." Johnny plops down on the nearby couch, looking unimpressed.

"Johnny? Don't you have something you wanna say?" Y/N asked.

Johnny grins mischievously, leaning forward. "Oh, I've got plenty to say." He looks at Reed, then back at Y/N. "You know Reed's gonna be sulking for weeks now, right?"

"Well, why wouldn't he be? He worked hard on that device. How would you feel if you were working on your 2004 Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren C199, and I just went in and messed up the motor or something?"

The blonde laughs, standing up from the couch. "Oh, please. Like you even know how to work on a car, Y/N." He walks over to the broken device, picking it up and examining it. "Besides, it's not like Reed can't just build another one."

"That's not the point, Johnny. The point is that you need to apologize. And screw you. I do know about cars. Y/N said.

Reed watches the exchange with a mix of amusement and frustration, arms crossed. Johnny drops the device on the table, turning to face Y/N with mock seriousness. "Oh, yeah? Prove it." He grins playfully. "If you can fix a car down in the garage, I'll apologize to Reed. Hell, I'll even help him work on it."

"Fine. I will. Show me to the car. And the wrench. And that thing you use to take off the bolts on the tire of the car." Y/N said. Johnny chuckles, leading Y/N towards the garage with a smug grin. "Right this way, gearhead. Try not to get grease on your hands—unless you're into that sort of thing." Reed follows reluctantly, shaking his head.

[hyukalyptus]

ashlynn.........i've been re-reading this all day trying to figure out how to respond bc this is like the sweetest thing anyone's ever done LMAO. thank you SO MUCH again for talking through it with me and answering my questions as a faerie freak.

lets see if i can respond to everything you said...

i'm glad you like the aura concept! i did a bit of aura research ehehehe so i was worried it wasn't represented well, but thank you!!

i was also really worried about all the wording things (veils, veil lanterns, life lace , etc.) and i kept being like "what would ashlynn think of this" lmao so i'm so glad you like all that.

ykw i tried really hard to talk about how sexy fat and chubby women are in this one, and i feel like i really could so much more and maybe that's something i gotta work out within myself yk? i just gotta some super dirty fat body worship for hours type shit.

i did the faeries hating humans for you!!! i was thinking of you when i wrote that LMAO

yes!!! i tried SO HARD to draw out them seeing each other for the first time, i still don't feel like it's perfect, but eh whaddaya gonna do. was thinking about heartworm and @jjunbug's i wanna be yours when trying to draw it out and like..idk mine's okay. i just feel like both of those are so mwah mwah yk?

i was SO nervous about how i incorporated the wings in the smut and it seems like you liked it?? TT

but anyway--- thank you so much for leaving such a long adn sweet comment ilysmmmmmmmmmm, don't ever change

look at me — faerie!soobin x fem!human!reader

cw. soobin is a human-sized faerie with wings, chubby!reader has braces but that's rarely mentioned, reader has anxiety, reader needs to be high on shrooms to see/hear/touch soobin (it'll make sense i swear! ((dear god i hope it makes sense at least))), kissing, penetration (protection not mentioned), cunnilingus, nipple stuff, "baby," angsty ending, let me know if i missed anything. note. like i said, reader has to be high on shrooms to see, hear, and touch soobin, so technically they're both on drugs when they have sex, so caution if that makes you uncomfy. and oh surprise, surprise! very self indulgent. AND omg- shout out to the talented @hyukascampfire for brainstorming with me when i was first thinking about this and along the way as well. i've never written anything remotely fantasy so this is new territory for me and i'm super nervous for y'all to read it, especially faerie princess ashlynn. but i hope y'all love it <3 wc. 7.2K

There she is again. Not many humans venture this far out into the woods, but I recognize her every time. Well, I recognize her aura. Typically, humans appear in a dream-like haze—I can make out what they look like and even hear what they’re saying. But when their hearts are weighed down, their aura overwhelms everything, blinding me to their true physical form.

My friends tease me for being so fascinated with humans, but I can’t help it. They’re delightful in their peculiar ways—bringing their lovers and friends for little celebrations, visiting us with their sweet treats and elixirs. They’re so distracted with joy, they hardly notice when we take some for ourselves. 

This human is different, though. She’s always alone, shrouded in a deep, stormy grey cloud that darkens every time she returns. For a moment, her aura softens as she rests at the edge of the creek, taking deep breaths while the storm eases into a fragile calm. But it never lasts. Within a week, she returns and the weight she carries seems heavier than before.

Today, she rushes to the creek bed, crouches by the water, and her weeps and cries are the loudest I’ve ever heard. She’s shaking. I creep closer, hoping to make anything out of her cloud, but nothing. Taking a seat on the moss on the other side of the creek, I simply watch her. Her cries crescendo into a gut-wrenching wail and I can’t take it anymore. 

I toss a small pebble into the creek, watching as orange flickers throughout her cloud—fear. After another, it turns a muddy blue—curious. It twists and turns in search of something and when she leans toward the water, I summon a gold shimmer into the creek, dancing across the ripples as it catches the light. Her gasp breaks the silence, and for the first time, I hear her voice, distant and fragile. 

“Oh my god.” 

A grin tugs at my lips. Her cloud has kept her hidden from me all this time, but I just know she’s absolutely adorable. A small pebble shoots out from her direction, falling into the water and I guide it to land right on top of the other two. When she tosses another in, I pause the current entirely, letting the surface hold still. Then, with a flick of my fingers, I release it with a bloop. And I hear a giggle. A giggle! It’s gorgeous. Like the first notes of my favorite song. 

“Hello?” She asks and I conjure a ripple in response. “Is someone there?” In the center of the creek, I create a circle of stillness, the current bending around it at my command. Inside it, I make it change color in an attempt to communicate with her. I add the gold shimmer back, trying to tell her—to scream at her—Yes! Yes, I’m here! I’m right here. But her cloud flares orange—panic—and she stumbles back. In a heartbeat, she’s gone, running away from our dell. 

Oh no. Shoving the heels of my hands into my eye sockets out of frustration, I shake my head. Oh no.

-

It’s been weeks. Every day, I return to watch the humans, hoping my favorite may return. Perhaps it was overwhelming for her—turning water gold that quickly. Regret gnaws at me as I pick a bit of a raspberry from under my nail from when I was harvesting them earlier. A rustle in the distance snaps me to attention, followed by the solid thud of something hitting the mossy ground. 

A human. Not the one I’ve been waiting for, but they catch my eye—curvy and stunning and flipping through a book. After a moment, they put it aside, sitting criss-cross on the creekbank, bending toward the water. 

“Hello?” She asks. Wait. I know that voice. I only heard it for a moment, but I’ve been dreaming about it so much recently, I’d recognize it anywhere now. She’s back! And I can see her! 

And she’s so incredibly beautiful, I can’t help but stare. I stumble toward the creek bed and she speaks again, “Hello?” I respond with a water ripple. 

“Hello, I’m here.” Speaking is useless, but I whisper under my breath anyway. 

“Are you the same…thing I was talking to a few weeks ago?” The water slowly turns a gold shimmer and she grins. “Can I ask you some questions?” The gold gets stronger. “Gold means yes?” The shimmer holds steady. “Am I speaking with the water?” I make it turn a deep, murky teal. “Does that mean no?” Gold. “A witch?” Teal. “A ghost?” Teal again. “An angel?” Teal. “A faerie?” 

Gold shimmer. I whisper, “Yes, yes,” proud of her for getting it. 

“A faerie?” She asks excitedly and I celebrate with her in the form of a water ripple. “Oh wow,” she whispers. “So you can hear me?” Gold. “Can you see me?” Ah, what do I do now? I can’t quite see her yet, but I definitely can see more of her than she can of me.

“Grey?” She’s silent for a moment, humming as she tries to understand. “You don’t know if you can see me?” Teal. “You can kinda see me?” Gold. “I can’t see you at all,” she mumbles. She looks up again, unsure where to look. “Did you know that?” It stays gold while she chuckles to herself. The sound of it is intoxicating—like the sound of leaves rustling in the wind or a bird chirping. It warms me from the inside out. 

“Where are you?” She asks. The current splits into two, flowing against each other and converging in a point aimed directly at me. As she follows the arrow with her eyes to look at me, her cloud clears fully and I can finally see her. For real this time. There’s still that angelic glow that won’t go away until the Veils have been lifted but I’m not so sure I’d want it to go away anyway. She’s absolutely, positively stunning. My breath is taken away. Her smile reaches her eyes and there’s something in her mouth—something I’ve never seen before, shiny and on every tooth. 

Her body curves and moves gloriously and she looks irresistibly soft and…sexy. And I don’t use that word often. I want to hold her, touch her, squeeze her, make her feel something, but she can’t even see me. Even if I tried, my touch would be nothing but the whisper of a ghost. 

Glancing down, her eyebrows furrow in confusion. She asks, “What does pink mean?” I shake my head to rid my thoughts of her and the water returns to its natural, clear, blue state. 

There’s a beat of silence. She awkwardly speaks up, “So, a faerie, huh?” Slowly, the calm pool turns gold again. “I’ve got some books about the Fae.” Bubbles rise in curiosity. “Are you a human-sized faerie?” Gold. 

“I think I may be a bit taller than you, though…” I whisper. I’m taller than most everyone in my village, so I can only assume I’m taller than her as well. 

“A lot of these books say you all hate humans,” she says matter-of-factly. 

The water turns a deep, angry red. “That’s a misconception!” I say with a grumpy giggle. Although, she’s not totally wrong. Most other faeries I know do hate humans, I suppose. I’m not sure why, though—they’re so sweet and cute. Us faeries tend to have a superiority complex. But that doesn’t mean we all have it out for the entirety of the human race. 

“Oh,” she says, holding her hands up. “Sorry.” I forgot she can’t hear me, so the water calms itself. “Do you hate humans?” I can’t make it teal fast enough. 

We spend hours in our woodland dell together—she watches as I make the water change colors, as I make flowers bloom in patterns, and as I talk with rabbits, asking them to bring me back berries and nuts. The way her eyes light up when I make the peonies bloom makes me feel like nothing else matters. I’d sit here for hours, building and blooming the garden of her dreams if I could—just to make her happy. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks, sitting next to me on the creekbank now that we’re on the same side. The water constantly follows me to show her my location. 

“Of course,” I respond under my breath, hoping something might leak through into her realm. 

“Coming out here and talking to you…” she sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy.” She chuckles. “Like, what would someone think if they saw me giggling at the water?” I wish I could shatter the wall blocking her realm from mine, dissolving any of that hesitancy and uncertainty. “But it makes me feel sane. It’s the only time I feel like my world isn’t falling apart.” 

She’s told me all about her world—a stressful job, family problems, and constant crippling anxiety. I can’t imagine living in a world like hers. Humans fascinate me, yes, but I avoid the world they’ve created at all costs—booming cities absent from flora and fauna, no magic, lifeless but overwhelming at the same time. 

“That’s a new one,” she says, glancing down at the water. When she looks back up, guessing where my eyes are, she asks, “What does silver mean?”

“I’m sad,” I whisper. Almost at the exact same time, like we’re connected at the heart, we say,

“I wish you could hear me.”“I wish I could hear you.” 

As she fiddles with the green moss under her legs the water slowly turns a gold shimmer. I want that too. I want to talk to her, to feel her, hug her, kiss her. I want to be hers, to protect her from all that pain in her world. But my heart drops, the water steadily turning a sad silver again. I could never be that for her. 

“Why can’t I see you?” She asks, sadness laced in her voice. I conjure a gentle wind, making one of her books fly open, flipping to a page titled, The Fae and Humans: Perception and Interaction. Her head snaps toward the sound, curiosity pulling her closer. Slowly, she crouches and reads aloud, “There is an intricate balance of aural, visibility, touch, and the altered states required to bridge the divide between the Fae and human realms. Understanding the two key thresholds—The Veil of Sight and Sound and the Veil of Touch—are crucial when communicating with the Fae. 

“The Veil of Sight and Sound: Faeries exist on a frequency of reality imperceptible to humans. Under normal conditions, human vision and hearing cannot penetrate this Veil; however, certain factors can alter a human's perceptual capabilities. Mild intoxication induced by substances can create a temporary overlap between the human and faerie realms. In this state, humans can see and hear faeries in their true forms. 

“The Veil of Touch: Even when humans achieve the rare ability to see and hear faeries, the Veil of Touch presents a further barrier. While perception might align momentarily, the physical matter of faeries and humans does not naturally interact. For touch to occur, a human must enter a deeper altered state—one that further detaches them from their own plane.” 

Taking everything in, her lips barely move when she whispers, “Intoxication?” The water points toward a ring of mushrooms nestled at the edge of the creek. Each one has a delicate pearly white cap with faint iridescent streaks that catch the light like oil on water. The ring itself isn’t perfect; they grow unevenly, edges blending with soft moss and fallen leaves. They look relatively ordinary, but those iridescent streaks tell me they’re undeniably veil lanterns, a substance that lifts both veils for humans. Moving closer to the ring of mushrooms, she asks, “If I eat one of these, I’ll be able to see and hear you?” Gold shimmer. “How does it make me feel?” 

How do I put this? I make the water swirl in on itself in different directions while it turns different shades of blue and green. It spirals upward into a sphere that hovers for a moment before gracefully falling back to the creek. 

“Like I’m floating?” She asks curiously. Gold shimmer. She looks back at the mushrooms, her expression torn between hope and hesitation. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” she says softly, but her hand doesn’t move closer. Eventually, though, she plucks one out of the ground, holding it between her pointer finger and thumb, twirling it between her fingers. “Just one?”

“Just one,” I whisper under my breath as the water turns gold. Popping it in her mouth, I watch the soft aura that still surrounds her physical form turn a pretty relaxed yellow over the course of a few minutes. She talks to me as she lets the mushroom settle in—asking how long it’ll take or what happens if it doesn’t work.

“What if I’ve been making all this up in my head?” She chuckles to herself. “And I’ve been talking to a creek this whole time? How embarrassing would that be?” She rubs her hands over her face, groaning. “I can’t believe this,” she grumbles, curling into herself, her knees pulled tight to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she closes her eyes and mutters, “Thinking a creek is talking to me…”

“That does sound a little silly,” I say, my voice light with amusement. 

Her gasp breaks the quiet as her eyes fly open, and for the first time, she sees me. The realization washes over her in waves—hesitation, awe, and then a dawning understanding.  

“Hello,” I say softly, letting her take me in, her eyes tracing over my entire body.

“Hi,” she breathes. “Where are your wings?” That’s an unexpected first question. Smiling, I unfold them, letting them catch the sunlight. Iridescent hues of pink and purple shimmer like liquid light. The intricate patterns etched into the delicate surface that scatter rainbows onto the ground below. 

“Wow…” she whispers in disbelief. She reaches out slowly, her fingertips trembling as they near me. But her hand passes straight through, our realms still worlds apart. Confusion clouds her face and her glassy eyes blink with disappointment. 

I shake my head and remind her, “The Veil of Touch, remember?”

“Oh, I need to have another mushroom?” I nod. She hurriedly reaches for one.

“Wait.” She halts and looks up at me. “You should take it easy with those. Let’s just talk. I’ve been dying for you to hear my voice.”

“That’s true.” She looks over at the water, then glances back up at me. “You’re so…pretty,” she says. “What’s your name?” 

“Soobin.” Then she tells me her name. “We can have conversations much easier now, huh?” I smile. 

With the Veil lifted, we spend the hour learning all we can about each other—her favorite color isn’t just yellow, it’s turmeric. She loves how it looks when she puts a teaspoon of it in her rice cooker and it spreads throughout the water. Her favorite flower is a poinsettia because her mother used to line the front porch with them during a winter holiday called Christmas. Those things on her teeth are called braces and they’re supposed to help her teeth somehow. She hates celery and loves broccoli, especially if they’re roasted in an oven. That scar on her cheek is from learning something called skateboarding. She loves the rain but is terrified of thunder. She hates how loud her laugh is, though it's my favorite sound. 

She worries about being too much and not enough all at once. 

As we talk, I can’t tell how much time we have left. I can tell I’m fading from her view but she never fades from mine. Her laughter grows quieter, her giggles becoming rare until they’re gone altogether. Her high is wearing off, and with it, the fragile connection we share. I can feel her pulling back, closing herself off again, like the gentle drift of someone falling asleep without realizing it.

Her eyes stay on me, intense and unblinking, memorizing every detail of my face to hold onto me for just a moment longer. Then I see it, the shift in her expression. Realization dawns like a shadow passing over her, her gaze losing focus.  

“I can’t see you anymore,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with resignation. She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “You’re gone again.”  

-

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask, my voice soft but steady. Over the years, I’ve forged fragile connections with humans, always careful never to push too hard. Yet no matter how gentle I am, the same thing happens—they see too much, fear too much, and never return. And I don’t blame them. It’s utterly overwhelming. There’s no denying that. 

But she’s been visiting me for months and I’ve never been this close to anyone. With her, the world feels sharper, more vivid. Every time she speaks, her words resonate with something deep inside me, as if they echo through places I’ve forgotten even existed. 

She occupies my every waking moment. I’ve started to feel her even when she’s not here—her absence pressing against me like a quiet storm, a warmth that lingers in the air long after she’s gone. Her voice echoes in my mind when it’s silent. Every time our eyes meet, there’s that spark, that electric connection that tells me we’re on the cusp of something extraordinary. 

We’ve talked about taking the next step so many times now. But it’s a huge step. It’s about stepping into a new reality, about making something impossible real. 

She nods, her eyes bright with determination. “I’m sure.”  

She picks up the mushroom, turning it over in her hands as though its surface might help her validate her decision. Then, with a shaky breath, she sets it back down, her resolve wavering. “What if this isn’t real?” she whispers, her gaze fixed on her trembling fingers. “What if I’ve just been…hallucinating all of this?”  

“You’re not hallucinating,” I say gently.

She hugs her knees to her chest, biting her lip. “But what if I am? And if I eat another one, I just sink deeper into this… dream? Or illusion? Or whatever this is.”  

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I assure her, leaning closer.  

She lifts her head slightly, her expression torn. “But if I need these just to talk to you…” Her voice falters. “Doesn’t that mean I’ll always be dependent on them?”  

I meet her gaze, steady and unwavering. “You’re already talking to me,” I say. “You don’t need another one to keep doing that.”  

Her breath catches, and for a moment, silence hangs between us. Then she speaks again, “But I can’t touch you.” Her eyes glisten, her vulnerability shining through. “And I want to.”  

Something in me stirs—sharp and undeniable. My chest tightens, my voice trembling, “I want that too.” 

She sighs my name, and it feels like the world is tilting. Her cheeks flush as she hesitates. “I want to…maybe it’s the mushroom talking,” she says quickly, her words tumbling out, “but I want you. I want you to kiss me and hold me and make me feel—”  

“I want all of that too,” I interrupt, my voice low and earnest. “But only if you’re ready.”  

Her shoulders sag slightly, her head tilting as she stares at the ground. “But it’ll never be truly real, though, will it?”

“It’s real,” I say softly. “Maybe not in the way we want it to be—but real enough to feel.” Nodding, she takes several seconds to think, picking at the green moss as a distraction. “What if I ate one too?”

“Would it even affect you?” 

I nod and add, “It gives me a high, but nothing…magical happens.” We both agree to eat one, giggling and talking while we let them both set in. 

“I’m not feeling much different, to be honest,” she says, her voice faltering. “I’m starting to think none of this is real. I’m just… seeing you, but you’re not really there.” Her hand lifts, a trembling finger reaching toward my cheek.

Then it happens.

The moment her skin touches mine, a spark—soft, warm, and undeniable—flares between us. She gasps, jerking her hand back as though it's been burned. But before the space between us can grow too wide, she reaches out again, her palm settling against my cheek, her thumb brushing over the curve with a tentative tenderness.

Her touch anchors me, and for a moment, I can’t speak.

“…Soobin,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re there. You’re really there.”

“I know,” I say, chuckling. “I’m really here. Watch this.” I reach out, dragging my fingertips over her forearm. She gasps again, yanking her hand back. “Are you okay?” I ask, concern flickering in my voice. She nods, slowly and deliberately moving her hand forward. Then, she runs her fingers through my hair and glides them down my shoulder and arm, leaving a shiver in their wake.

“Can I…your wings?” she asks, her voice filled with awe. I let them unfold just enough for her to see. Her breath hitches as she reaches out, the tip of her pointer finger brushing against the delicate edge of one wing. It flutters instinctively at her touch, responding to her presence, which spooks her a bit. 

“It’s okay,” I murmur, watching her hand. 

Encouraged and confident, she places her hand fully on top of my wing, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns as though committing every curve and shimmer to memory.

“Wow…that’s unreal,” she says. “I mean, it’s real, but doesn’t seem like it should be.” She inches closer, the space between us dissolving until our knees barely touch. Her fingers run down my arm lightly before picking up my hand, examining it closely, her thumb tracing the lines of my palm, the curve of my fingers. Then, I mirror her actions, taking her hand in mine. It’s warm, human, and yet so fragile under my touch. 

Her hand travels upward to trace my features with her thumb. She lingers over the arch of my eyebrow, down the bridge of my nose, along the edge of my jaw. When she reaches my lips, her thumb pauses, grazing over the softness of my bottom lip. A breath escapes me, unbidden, and her touch slows, her thumb resting there for just a moment longer before she withdraws, her hand trembling slightly as it falls back into her lap.

I respond, my thumb swiping across her bottom lip and I tug her closer by her jaw until I can feel her breath on my chin. 

“Can I kiss you?” I whisper. 

She nods. 

Our lips fall into one another and move over each other so beautifully—it beats out rainbows and peonies, the sound of water falling, the smell of peppermint leaves. It’s a paradox, making everything else feel insignificant yet illuminating the meaning of it all in the same breath.

It deepens and I hover over her, her legs coming out from under her while I guide her to lay down on the mossy patch, our lips never parting. Her lips feel so magical and soft and we only stop when she needs to come up for air. We smile at each other, our eyes sharing the same redness and glassy daze. I know exactly what I want to happen next, but I’m not so sure she’s ready for all that. I look at her, taking in all her beauty. 

“You’re gorgeous,” I tell her.

“So are you,” she slurs. She reaches for my hand that’s already resting on her hip and moves it up to her chest, encouraging me to feel all of her. 

I whisper her name and ask, “Are you sure you want this?” 

“Please.” My lips crash into hers again and our hands are all over each other, on each other’s bodies, in each other’s hair, squeezing and squishing and feeling and rubbing. She breaks the kiss, “Have you ever done this before? You know, with a human?”

“Not with a human,” I chuckle. “But all the anatomy’s the same.” 

“That’s good,” she giggles, grabbing my hair to kiss me again, but she’s quick to pull back. “Go slow, okay?” I nod. With a snap of my fingers, flowers swirl together, carried by a gentle breeze, forming a soft pillow for her to rest her head on. “Ah, thank you. I forgot you can do stuff like that.” Lifting the skirt of her dress up, I slowly move it past her thighs and she asks with a trembling voice, “Will people see us?” 

I shake my head, telling her, “I cast a shadow cloak around us. No one can see us. Not even the other fae.” A look of relief and content falls across her face. “Can I…?” I ask, lifting her dress more. She nods. With each passing inch, my heart thumps as I drag my fingertips over her legs. Lifting it over her head, she’s laying under me, mostly bare. She’s still wearing two tiny pieces of fabric that cover her chest and bottom. 

“I wore these for you,” she says, her voice soft and tinged with a shyness she can’t quite hide. The veil lanterns must’ve loosened her lips.

“You did?” My hands explore her curves, reverent and curious, tracing every inch of her body. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” Her skin is soft and inviting under my lips, and I scatter kisses lower, her body responding perfectly with mine. But then, I can’t hide my fascination any longer. I pause, my thumb brushing over the delicate pink fabric that’s still on her body. How do I put this? Ah, let’s just be candid. “What is this?”  

“What do you mean?”  

“These,” I say, running my fingers along the straps and edges of the fabric. “I’ve never seen clothes like this before.”

“Oh,” she giggles, tugging gently at one of the straps. “This is a bra. And these,” she gestures to the sides of the fabric on her hips, “are panties.” I hum thoughtfully, studying her with an amused tilt of my head. 

“We don’t wear things like this. What’s the point of them?”  

Her lips curve into a playful smile. “Look at me.” And I do. She’s delicious. “That’s the point.”  

I smirk, my gaze lingering on her. “Am I—are you—supposed to take them off?”  

“Yes,” she says, her voice catching just slightly, her flush deepening. My fingers brush over the fabric again, savoring the contrast between it and her skin. “Do you not like them?” she asks, her tone almost teasing.  

“No, I do,” I reply, my voice dipping lower. “I have a feeling I’ll like your body even more.” I start to try and pull them off, but—

“Not yet,” she sighs. “Come here.” I sit up and she follows, her hand drifting to my top button. Slowly, she unfastens it, the slinky pink velvet slipping through her fingers with each deliberate motion. Once she pushes my shirt past my shoulders, I tug at the cuffs to free my arms. Her gaze stays locked on me as I fold my wings down, the delicate motion allowing me to slip the shirt off completely.

Extending her arm out, the tip of her middle finger barely touches my chest before she jerks her hand back, still not believing I’m tangible. Then she lets her hand fully press my body, dragging down to my waist. I remember how much my wings fascinate her, so I unfold them for her and she gasps. 

Leaning closer, our lips fall into each other and I guide her to lay down again just the same as before. My thumb drags across the apple of her cheek, trailed by my pointer finger down column of her neck, following a line between her breasts, down to squeeze her waist. Holding her bra strap between my pointer and middle finger, I slowly pull it down, leaving kisses along the way and hoping I’m doing this whole bra-and-panties thing correctly. Then I do the same with the other side, watching as she effortlessly reaches behind her, making something snap so it falls off her chest, hanging loosely. She pulls it off herself, although I think I’m supposed to be the one that does that. Next time.  

Looking down at her bare chest, I can’t help but feel giddy. The way her chest curves on itself, creating a gorgeous shape I desperately need to feel. 

“I love these,” I say, kissing the side of her breast. She hums in question. And I nudge the marks on her skin with the tip of my nose. “These,” I say. 

Her gaze follows mine as she glances down and asks, “Oh, my stretch marks?” 

“We call them life lace.”

Her expression softens, her eyes meeting mine. “Life lace,” she repeats quietly, as if testing the words, a touch of wonder in her voice. I search and scour for every bit I can find—the most of it on her tummy, hips, and thighs. She’s still got that last bit of clothing around her hips she hasn’t taken off yet. That final barrier between us. We’ve knocked every other barrier down but something about this last one feels utterly real in a way the others didn’t. 

Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I pull her gently so her legs wrap around my ears gently, shoving my face into her center over that last bit of clothing, inhaling. I’ve never been this close to a human before. She smells so different from the fae I’ve been with. She’s intoxicating and delightful—my mouth waters at how delicious she smells. 

“I take this off, too?” I nudge at her entrance, earning a jolt. I must’ve nudged something sensitive. She nods eagerly, helping me take them off her. 

“You too,” she reminds me and I shuffle to get rid of the rest of my clothes. Looking down at her, she’s giddy and completely entranced, which twinges my heart. It’s just the veil lanterns, the cynical part of me reminds myself. Her legs are casually spread open, giving me a full display of her glistening pussy. I skate my hands up her legs, feeling her ground herself in the feeling of my hands. 

Teasing her entrance with my thumb, she’s hot and wet as she flutters around nothing, waiting for anything from me. I gather just enough of her wetness to make my pointer finger slick and tap her clit, making her flinch. Then, I rub the slowest, lightest circles over the nub and she lets out a ragged sigh. Her tightened muscles relax as she allows herself to feel every move I’m making, letting her head gently fall to the pillow of flowers. 

Once she’s practically dripping, I slide my two middle fingers inside her, curling them to tease the most sensitive bit with the pads of them. Bending, I flick my pointed tongue against her clit, eliciting a whine while she desperately reaches for my hair. I’ve never tasted a human either, I realize. I’m not sure anything will ever be as delicious as her again. 

“Oh my god,” she whimpers. Every sound she makes is gorgeous but I can’t wait to hear what she sounds like when she comes. I bet it's the most beautiful in the world. “W—wait…” she trails off, her hip thrusts betraying her words. “Soobin, wait—” she gasps. This time, I stop. Gently wrapping her hand around the back of my neck to pull me closer. “I want you…all of you, please.” 

I take the time to memorize what her face looks like, how her hair is splayed out against the flowers, how kissable her lips look. And I don’t resist them. Pressing my lips to hers again, they mould into each other like we should’ve never been apart in the first place. She tries to place her hands on my back, stumbling as she realizes my wings are in the way, which rustle in response. Instead, she rests them on my waist, squeezing delicately. 

We hesitantly part so I can sit up on my knees. This time, I take the time to memorize everything about her body—her stomach rolls folding from holding her legs open, the life lace at the tops of her thighs, the swell of her ass squished by the ground. Everything is absolute, utter perfection. 

Slowly gracing my hands to follow the curve of her waist then down to her thighs and hips, little bumps cover her skin. I forget what humans call them. Finding her clit with my thumb again, I rub agonizingly slow circles, forcing her hips to roll involuntarily. Barely prodding her entrance with my cock, I watch her shiver and whine, quickly getting impatient. When I back off, her pelvis bucks, her body begging for me on its own. 

Aligning myself at her pussy again, I push myself in, only letting myself about halfway inside her but she still takes my breath away. Just as she’s about to let out a sigh of relief, I pull out of her again. 

“Stop…” she whines. “Stop teasing me so much.” I chuckle with her—I guess I should get to the good stuff. “Please…please stop teasing me so much.” 

I concede and when I’m finally fully inside her, everything feels so…much. It’s all so much. I feel like I’ve never felt before, like nothing has ever had any impact before her, like nothing will ever feel as good until we’re together again. I bend at my waist, supporting myself with my elbows around her face and her eyes flutter shut.

“Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” I say. “We don’t have much time.” 

When she opens her eyes and looks into mine, still nothing matters—not that she can’t see me without the veil lanterns, not that I could disappear from her view any minute, not that we could never truly be together. The way she feels overshadows all of that. 

We don’t have much time, I remind myself. I sink deeper inside her, digging my face into her neck.

“Look at me,” she reminds me and I follow her instructions. We find a rhythm we both like, desperately thrusting in and out of her. “Kiss me…kiss me please,” she whispers. Our lips meet furiously as my hips dig into hers. “I need to feel you as much as I can,” she says. “Before I can’t anymore.” Resting her arms against my lower back—right below my wings—she squeezes around me, rubbing her hands up and down my waist. Delicately and hesitantly, she slides her hands up, letting her hands rest gently where my wings meet my skin. 

There’s a vulnerability to it I wasn’t expecting. It’s not something I’ve thought about before—no one’s ever touched me like that there before, not even another faerie. My breath catches when her fingers trace the delicate ridge where my wings connect to my body. I shudder, the sensation overwhelming and pleasant. Her eyes widen, searching mine, unsure if she’s crossed a line. 

“Is this okay?” she asks softly, her voice trembling.

I press my forehead to hers, nodding. “It’s okay,” I respond. “More than okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, her thumbs brushing lightly against the base of my wings.

“You won’t,” I promise, though my voice is raw, barely audible. “You couldn’t.”

Her lips find mine again, gentler this time, like her touch softened the urgency between us. The rhythm slows, turning into something deeper, more deliberate. Her hands never stray far from my wings and the trust in her touch makes my chest ache in the best way. In this moment, she sees me—not just with her eyes, but as someone she wants to hold onto, even when she knows she can’t forever.

“You feel,” she gasps. “I can’t—”

“I know, baby…” I sigh. “I know.” I silence her whimpers with my mouth, swallowing any whines that escape past her lips. I argue with myself trying to decide if I should close my eyes to savor how she feels, never leaving her lips or if I should keep them open to make sure I commit the sight of her underneath me to memory. Either way is a win for me to be fair. 

Breaking the kiss, I trail my lips all over her body, tasting every inch of her. She’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever tasted before, slightly salty and warm against my tongue, different from the typical sweetness of other faeries. Every time I press my lips to her, I kiss away a hardship. I kiss away the stress in her shoulders, kiss away the problems she faces in her day-to-day life, kiss away any anxieties she feels. I’m desperate to make her feel good, to remind her that none of that matters here. With me. 

When I flick my tongue over her nipple, her back arches, a gasp following her movements. I keep my thrusts steady, feeling her release building up in her stomach. I watch as her tummy muscles tighten then she desperately reaches for my hair, pulling me closer so our bodies are pressed together again. Her arms are wrapped around my torso and I can feel her clenching around me, teetering on the edge of something incredible. 

“Soobin—” she gasps. “Don’t—” Her back arches. “Hmm…I’m close,” she says, a smile evident in her voice. “Please, please…” I don’t think she even knows what she’s begging for anymore. Begging for anything—my cock, my hands, my lips, a release. 

Then, her nails dig into my lower back as she bites my shoulder, groaning loudly against my skin as she comes around my cock, pussy pulsating around me as she whimpers and whines through it. 

“Oh my god,” she pants and just as she starts to twitch from overstimulation, I slow my movements, peppering her neck and face with kisses. She catches her breath, whispering incoherent things in my ears, things like my name, swears, giggles. 

“Use me,” she whispers. I hum in question. “Use me to make yourself feel good.” I lift her legs, pressing them toward her chest, letting me reach the deepest parts of her. And everything about her feels incredible. Pounding into her quickly, I squeeze one of her tits with one hand and use the other to hold her waist in place. 

It doesn’t take long for something inside me to twist and turn, begging to be snapped so I can fill her up. My stomach ties itself into too many knots as a white hot fire burns in the pit of it. The noises she’s making adds fuel to the fire, burning and burning until I can’t hold back anymore. With a few final thrusts, everything inside me breaks, like it’s all been building until this moment. I make a conscious effort to take my time and feel everything, thinking about how her pussy feels wrapped around my cock, how her tit feels in my hand, what she smells like, what she looks like. Everything is magic. 

As I catch my breath, I pull out of her so slowly she shivers and I watch as my cum spills out of her while she giggles bashfully. I panic as I realize I didn’t prepare to clean up. Why didn’t I prepare for clean-up? She finds that little piece of fabric she was wearing earlier—what was it called again?—and uses them to wipe herself clean before folding them meticulously to store in her bag. 

“How are you feeling?” I ask. 

“Eh…” she hums. …Eh? “Just kinda bittersweet is all, you know?” I shake my head in disappointment. “No, no!” She runs her fingers through my hair, looking at me sweetly. “That was amazing.” She kisses me deeply. “I should’ve started with that. I’m sorry.” 

“You swear?”

“Of course,” she sighs. “That was incredible. It’s just…”

“I know,” I say. “How much time do we have left, you think?” Averting her eyes from mine, she looks down to fiddle with her thumbs. 

“You’re already starting to fade.” 

“Then look at me,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “Look at me until you can’t anymore.” She chuckles, bringing her eyes up to meet mine. We stare at each other, running our hands over each other’s bodies until we’ll no longer be able to feel the other. Once the Veil of Touch separates our hands again, we hesitantly get dressed during the last few minutes before the Veil of Sight and Sound completely separates us. She pulls her dress back over her head, closing off my view from her. 

We sit again, facing toward each other, anxiously waiting until I fade from her view. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. I start to reach for her, until I remember I can’t touch her. 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Soobin,” she sniffles. I scoot closer to her. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she gestures between us. “Only seeing you when I’m on some kind of high from those mushrooms? This would never work. I can’t just…not see or hear you when I’m sober. I can’t—this isn’t—” Her words puncture my lungs and I can’t breathe. The ache in her voice echoes into my chest and I hate these fucking Veils. What’s the point in them anyway? Can’t they be destroyed?

“Don’t say that,” I plead.

She shakes her head, tears spilling over as she wipes at her cheeks with trembling hands. “I can’t keep falling deeper for you, only to lose you every time the spell fades. It’s breaking me apart.”

My throat tightens. “You’re not losing me. I’ll always be here. Always. I promise.”

“But I won’t really be here, will I?” she says, her voice cracking. “I won’t ever be in the right state of mind when we’re together.”

Her words hang heavy in the air and all I can hear is the soft babble of the creek. I try to reach for her again, forgetting again I can’t. My hand hovers uselessly in the air before falling back to my side.

“There has to be another way,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice. “Something we haven’t tried. A way to get rid of them so we can be together.” She looks at me, her expression a mixture of longing and heartbreak. 

“And if there isn’t? What then? Do we keep doing this forever?”

Leaning closer, I say, “You’re worth it.”

Her face crumples, and she presses her hands to her face as if to shield herself from my words. “Soobin, I—” I know the edges of her vision are starting to blur, the Veil is about to take me from her. Again. “Don’t go,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say. “Not really. I’ll always be here. Waiting.” And then I know I’m gone by the sound of her cries. I turn the water a rich, warm shade of yellow with deep golden and earthy undertones—turmeric—so she knows I’m still there with her. She stands slowly, turns and starts to walk away but stops a few steps in, she looks back, somehow right into my eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

[theunbreakablecurse0]

Small fic Teachers Gego AU (hurt/comfort, arguments)

It was a quiet night. No distant car sounds outside, no birds or other things that usually can be heard during this time.

Suguru was sitting in the living room and staring blankly at the front door. Fiddling with the wedding ring on his finger, he blinked and switched his attention from the door to the clock on the wall.

3:31

*****

It was a promise they made along their hard way while being jujutsu sorcerers: no coming back home after midnight. This specific rule was mainly made for Satoru, who always worked overtime while Suguru was away during their toughest year apart. Defection and all the stuff that came with it.

Overworking was not something Suguru and Shoko thought was compatible with Six eyes and Infinity, so just like that, after Satoru's fifth attempt to come back home in the morning, the rule was established.

And to be honest, it had been working quite well for almost seven years of their marriage until some shit began to happen. Again and again. It started with:

             My love 🧿🧿

[sorry i don't think i will be home for dinner today :( ]

[Did smth happen? Need my help?]

[no  it's ok baby, stay at home~]

And ended with:

My love 🧿🧿

[go to bed without me, gonna be done with some paperwork in 40 min or so]

[But there was no paperwork when i left??]

[old fuckers forgot again]

After the fourth time in one week, the confrontation finally happened.

"Toru? Is there something I need to know about? You're coming back much later than usual these days," Suguru asked while stirring green tea.

Satoru raised his head.

"Nothing specific~" he sing-songed with a thin smile.

Suguru frowned.

"Sorry… I'll try coming back home earlier. I promise, it's nothing bad", Satoru whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

“Alright.”

*****

3:57

Suguru heard a sound of a key unlocking the door. It finally opened, revealing a very tired Geto Satoru, who gently closed it from the inside, taking his blindfold off.

"You okay?" Suguru flatly asked, staring at his husband.

Satoru flinched, his eyes widened in awe as he quickly turned to Suguru.

"Shit, you scared me. I-I am!"

"Very well. Care to elaborate?"

"You mean?"

"The damn missions you've been taking and all the fucking lies about paperwork and meetings?"

"Suguru it's..."

"I'm listening. To the truth, preferably,” Suguru stood up, crossing his arms.

"I just... Three first grade sorcerers in Kyoto have resigned. So I agreed to take on their scheduled missions for a few weeks before higher ups will find a replacement for-"

"You're not being serious,” Suguru whispered.

Satoru stood there silently and just sheepishly rubbed his knuckles with a thumb.

"You're working yourself to the ground.”

"I promise you that I'm not!"

"You broke two dishes yesterday and almost poured the tea in a glass instead of your mug. And now, you didn't notice me when I was sitting right here and looking at the door.”

"I..."

"There are thousands of sorcerers in Kyoto that could have taken the job, but instead, higher ups decided to make their lives easier and USE YOU to clean up the mess. You agreed to this shit without telling me, then lied, and all this in process of slowly destroying yourself with the lack of sleep and everything else for fucking weeks. And don't tell me about your RCT, because we know it depends on your brain which can obviously get tired. So don't fucking say anything about people."

"Don't be so dramatic; I can take care of myself."

"I can see that."

"Suguru, please, can we stop doing this now."

"Why did you lie? You could have a least shared it with me."

"Because I knew you would be angry and worried for nothing."

"So you think your health and safety are nothing."

Satoru rolled his eyes.

"Suguru, you act like I'm some damsel in distress, really. I'm a grown man, a special grade jujutsu sorcerer after all."

"And does that make you not human?"

"A little bit?"

"If something happens-"

"NOTHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN!" Satoru interrupted him, clearly annoyed.

"So now you're also immortal and can see the future."

"I DON'T NEED ANYONE TO SAVE ME FROM FIRST AND SECOND GRADE CURSES; I'M NOT FRAGILE, SUGURU!"

"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT IT'S NOT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

"THEN WHAT IS IT?!"

"I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU EXHAUSTED AND ALONE, DOING NOT YOUR JOB, WHILE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LET YOUR BODY REST! AND YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU PUSH YOURSELF TO THE LIMIT!"

“IT IS MY JOB!”

“IT’S NOT!”

“YOU LEFT ME FOR A YEAR! I WORKED LIKE THIS AND NOTHING HAPPENED. DIDN’T SEEM LIKE YOU CARED BACK THEN!”

A low blow. A very low blow.

Suguru felt like a bucket of cold water was poured onto his shoulders, and it looked like it showed on his face, because after a couple of seconds, Satoru quietly called his name and reached out with his hand. 

Suguru took a step back, almost hitting the wall.

“Dad, Papa? Is everything fine?” Tsumiki asked, looking from an opened door to her bedroom.

“Sorry, did we wake you up? We’re alright,” Suguru found some words, coming up to his daughter.

“No, I woke up ‘cause I was thirsty.”

“I’ll bring you some water, okay?” Suguru whispered. The girl nodded, and as the man turned away and made his way to the kitchen, she worriedly looked at Satoru.

“Papa? Are you sure you are okay? You don’t look well…”

“I- yes, I am.”

Suguru returned and carefully put the glass in Tsumiki’s hand.

“Go to bed, okay?” He ruffled her hair, and she muttered a sleepy “thank you” before going back to her room.

Just as Tsumiki left, Satoru came up to Suguru, gently holding his cold hand.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean it,” his voice was shaking a little.

“I see,” Suguru gently brushed Satoru’s hand off and went to put on his shoes. He needed to get out of here for a while.

“Wait! Where are you going?” 

Suguru didn’t answer the question.

“You should change your clothes. And there is your portion of food from dinner on the table. Eat at least something and go to bed. I need some time alone.”

He threw on his black hoodie, snatched his emergency cigarette pack with a lighter and left, shutting the door. Satoru hid his face in his palms.

*****

It took Suguru almost an hour and three cigarettes to calm down a little bit. He rarely smoked. Especially after the children appeared. 

But today Suguru felt like he really needed it. A smoke break.

He couldn’t help but wonder if it was something he did. Something that made Satoru feel like he could not trust him anymore.

*****

When he got back home, it was already five in the morning. There was no food on the table. Only a small stack of washed dishes next to the sink.

"Thank God" Suguru thought.

He walked down the corridor and stood in front of their bedroom door, carefully opening it after some time.

Satoru was lying on the opposite edge of the bed under the blanket with his back to the entrance, looking unusually small for his height. Suguru closed the door, and the room fell into complete darkness.

He joined Satoru under the covers and turned to his husband. Suguru knew he was not asleep. The back was too strained, and it seemed like Satoru tried to hold his breath or just breathe more quietly for some reason. There was only one explanation for that.

He couldn't do this anymore. This particular week was a killer on its own.

Suguru stretched his arm and easily moved another man to his chest. After a few seconds, a sob broke the silence of the bedroom. Satoru's shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Satoru sobbed out.

"I'm very sorry too," Suguru whispered, feeling that his eyes began to burn. He gently flipped Satoru, and now they were face to face in the darkness.

"You must know I didn't mean it!" Satoru exclaimed, and Suguru just held him tighter.

"B-because I know the reason why you l-left and everything else. It was just such a shitty month, and I'm so-"

"Shhh... I believe you. It's okay. I'm here."

"It is NOT okay!"

"Satoru, it's alright. Please, we've said a lot of shit to each other before. It doesn't mean it is true."

Satoru's breathing became a bit easier.

"After our talk two days ago I- I decided to quit taking extra missions. But this time there were kids. The curse was stealing them for a few weeks, and these motherfuckers couldn't even find them straight away because higher ups can't do their fucking job. I didn't want you to be there. Not after Mimiko and Nanako. So I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I lied about all this stuff."

And just like that, the truth was out. There was a silence for a few minutes.

"But do you think it makes me feel easier that you experienced all this alone?" Suguru asked tenderly.

After a moment, Satoru whispered a "no".

"I thought we were stronger together, mm? Mentally AND physically."

"We are," Satoru mumbled.

"I understand where your worries came from, but please don't do stuff like that again. I can do anything when I'm with you. I was so fucking worried. I just... you know I'm not trying to order you around, but..."

"I understand."

Satoru hid his face on Suguru's neck and sniffed.

"Are you sure you're okay? Nothing hurts?"

"Head. A lil bit."

"Did you take your pills? The ones Shoko gave you?"

"I did."

"Good," Suguru praised, while petting his hair.

"The food was very delicious; thank you."

"You are welcome, my love."

Satoru blushed.

"Wait, Toru, is that my sweatshirt you are wearing?"

"Maybe..."

Suguru finally felt relieved after all these days.

"We should take a day off today."

"Mmm? Yeah. Definitely."

"I'll deal with it. Go to sleep. I'll grab you some tissues, and I have to find my phone."

"Nooo~ I don't want you to go anywhere."

"Just for a second, come on."

"Nope."

P.S. I laid this on the table. You deal with it lol. Fuck typos if there any (as usual)

P.P.S. Was inspired by Satoru Gojo's shitty schedule! Not even sure what is this

[elliesglock]

If the UConn team did a bind deaf and mute challenge who would be what and why?

i love that this is what i'm doing on a monday night ok so boom

im gonna imagine they would split into 4 teams so everyone gets a turn

in my version, blind is the one who has to complete the task, mute and deaf have to help each other to help blind

team one super seniors:

blind - aubrey. she'd just the only one that'd be able to lock in i fear

mute - paige, i just wanna see this girl try to not yap for 5 mins 😭

deaf: azzi i feel like she'd be able to read p's body language and help aubrey do what she needs to do

team 2: freshies

blind - morgan. she's so calm i think she'd be the only one listening

deaf - allie would be so funny im sorry

mute: sarah she's so expressive i feel like this would just fit her so well

team 3 sophmores:

blind - jana needs to do it she'd get so aggravated but i need a good laugh and her having to deal w kk would be a disaster

mute: ice... again she'd be so done w kk and she love to not talk while on the court so here u go twin. i think she'd just end up laughing too hard to be able to help anyone ngl

deaf: kk. she would just have a timeeeeeeee man, i predict like 3 crashouts cause nobody will lock in and she'll eventually start cheating

i could also see ashlynn having to come in and take over for jana cause she just won't lock in

team 4: benchwarmers plus kaitlyn

blind - caroline i think she'd lock in and she's already like the mom so i just imagine her getting onto everybody on her team to make sure they're doing their jobs

deaf - yanna that one live of her and jana arguing over crumbl cookies just makes me think she'd eat this role uppppp. she gets down she don't play so her and caroline would just be the duo.

mute: kaitlyn....she'd just be smiling the whole time talking with her hands not knowing what to do i love my sugar plum pieeee

benchwarmers would win bc they'd be the only team that would try to work together....p would argue once taking the tape off her mouth...

all in all, this would be more chaotic than that video of them playing trivia unfortunately

[nightmare-niko]

Selfish Waltz [Bang Chan x reader]

warnings: toxic! Ish relationship, over working, fighting, angst

A/n: I know I said I was gonna write a Jake fic next and I am!! That one’s on the way! I just couldn’t get this idea out of my mind so… here u go!!

Yeah, 아무것도 아니란 듯 그저 우리는 춤을 추며 밤을 보내고 Yeah, 억지스러운 손짓에 뻔한 춤사위 다음 step은 무의미한걸 Yeah, 달아오를 것 하나 없어, 이 무도회는 무미건조 Yeah, 맹목적으로 오늘도 또 반복해, 매번 똑같아 우리만의

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Yet another long tiring day at work without a word from your boyfriend. It didn't bother you much anymore, honestly. Back when It had first started when the ‘honeymoon’ phase ended-- You'd beg for any kind of acknowledgment. you'd tell Chris that you didn't even need a conversation— just to know that he was okay. But these days you do not even bother. He didn't text, neither did you. It was the new normal.

You pulled your car into your parking spot in your apartment's parking garage. Chris’ car was in his assigned spot right next to yours, he was home early. You'd been spending so much time at your studio-- it was always dark when you came home. But it was usually passed midnight when Chris would come through the door.

When he started picking up work on the weekends— you did too. No point going crazy in an empty apartment when you could get so much work done.

You sigh to yourself as the hum of your car drowns out. the slow dread creeping into you. You honestly can't remember the last time you and Chris had an actual conversation. Or the last time you had a date night, or slept together-- you'd fallen too used to the routine. as if it meant nothing. the fact the man you loved couldn't even give you the time of day meant… nothing.

You check the clock, 9:45 pm. If you were lucky - Chan would be in his home studio working. He won't notice the bags under your eyes — or how you look like the walking dead. if he could overwork himself— so could you. Maybe you worked so well because of your shared stubborn, and unhealthy hard work ethic. Silence ate away at you as you used the elevator to your floor. Your heart pounded erratically as you entered the Keycode to your door. The entrance light was flicked on and Chris’ belongings Were Scattered around the area. You cursed at him under your breath for not putting his things away. you kick them out of the way as you take off your shoes, bag, and jacket and put them in the proper spot.

"You're home late, I didn't realize you changed your hours." You freeze as you come Face to face with Chris. Damnit.

You stammer awkwardly, "Well I didn't, I just kind of stay as long as I feel like staying.” You walk around him and into the Kitchen.

Chris Follows you, "Still you never stay this late.”

You sigh, enthusiastically opening the Fridge and looking into it. I've been coming home this late for months Chris. you're just never home to notice.”

“oh c'mon baby, don't be like that. You know the kids, and I are busy working on our comeback.”

You close the fridge empty-handed. "I'm not being like anything. You're busy, I am too. It's not that big of a deal." You avoid his gaze, electing to give up on your search for food.

“You look tired,"

You Sigh, again. “I am tired. I had a long day." You try to get around him for a second time, but he stops you.

"Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Your already thin patience is beginning to grow thinner. "I don't know, Chris, have I?" You feel yourself beginning to crack. "You're gone when I wake up and you come home when I'm asleep. Ask me that when you start taking care of yourself." You push by him before any more harsh words get thrown at him.

You don't expect him to follow you, today's short outburst will most likely be completely Ignored by Chris — Just as all of your other ones have. You enter the bathroom for a well-needed shower. Your muscles ached and screamed from the dance you worked so hard on choreographing For your YouTube channel. You'd been putting your all into it ever since your boyfriend Started coming home late. Maybe Chris was right, you hadn't really been taking care of yourself. But that didn't matter, You had to finish your project.

Steam billowed from your bathroom door as you made your way to your room For bed.

You hadn't even noticed your boyfriend on your shared bed until you turned around after putting on your pajamas.

The room is silent as you do your Skincare. Your mind, however, is far from it. You didn't understand why you two had ended up like this. Even on his busiest and hardest days before - he'd never go a whole day without texting you - or telling you about his day and how much he missed you.

Maybe he was seeing someone behind your back...

No - nothing about any of his recent behavior leads you to sincerely believe that.

Maybe he just doesn't love you anymore.

But if that was the case why hasn't he just left?

You catch a stray tear falling down your cheek. You can't cry- there's no use.

•

You wake once again to an empty bed. The sheets beside you are cold, he probably left before sunrise. You pat around on your nightstand for your phone to check the time. Damn - you had overslept. Slowly, you got out of bed. No use wasting the whole day. Maybe you'd treat yourself to a coffee at your favorite café-- Chris’ favorite café. After getting dressed, you packed your backpack for work. Since you had gotten a late start you'd have to compensate by staying later. Right as you go to leave, your phone begins to ring- ‘Channie🤍’ lights up your phone screen, along with a picture of your boyfriend and his adorable dog Berry. you consider ignoring the call completely, but you can't bring yourself to. You answer the call,

“Hello?”

"Hey..." his voice is small, “didn't think you'd answer.”

You swear you hear your heart crack. "I'll always answer when you call, channie. What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…”

"Just what? Chris?”

There's a beat of silence before he continues, “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

You laugh softly, and for a moment, it feels like you haven't been icing each other out for the past few months. “Well here I am, I'm leaving for work, though. I'm staying late so don't wait ор, okay?”

"Later than yesterday??" His concern is noticeable, even through the phone.

"I don't know… maybe?” Oh, here he goes “why?”

"I just missed you, that's all… Hey, maybe we can do something together this weekend?”

“We’ll see Chris— I have to go now though.”

“Okay…” There’s silence on the line for a moment "I love you, always.”

"I love you too, Chris, always.” You hesitate to hang up but eventually bring yourself to hit the red button. The line goes dead and you let out a shaky breath.

It's a little past midnight when you come home. You're surprised to see Chan waiting for you in the living room. "I thought I told you not to wait.”

He ignores your statement, “Did you eat?”

the question stuns you, "Yeah-" You lied a little you had a snack during lunchtime and some coffee.

He gets up off of the sofa with a disappointed look on his face, “You need to eat baby. You are a dancer, you need energy.”

You scoff, "Why are you talking to me like I don't say this all the time for you to just ignore me?"

"c mon. Y/N, that's different.”

"How exactly? I want you to explain to me how this" You gesture between the two of you— ”Is different than what you did not even six months ago?? How is it when you're busy I have no right to show my concern but when I'm busy you get on my ass??" You feel your blood start to boil.

"Baby please-"

"It's like we have on good streak and then you're back to Ignoring me-- I'm sick of it Christopher. you haven't kissed me in weeks, we haven't done out in almost a year— I mean you don't even touch me anymore, Chris! If you want to break up with me just do it! I'm sick of this stupid dance we're doing!" Tears begin to pool, in your eyes.

He takes a step towards you, “Baby no— I don't— I'd *never. I'd never even think about breaking up with you. I love you.”

You throw your hands up in defeat. "Then I don't know what to do anymore Chris." Your voice cracks pathetically as you try your hardest to not sob. “This morning was the first time you've said it in months! What else am I supposed to think?!"

“I know-- I know and I'm sorry." He pulls you into him, "But please don't hurt yourself because of me. you need rest. proper rest.” Chan wipes your tears with his thumb. "I'll do better. I promise will. But you have to promise me that you'll Stop overworking yourself. I will too - for you, for us.”

Your vision is blurred From Your tears. “You promise?” You choke out.

"Promise,” he nods. patting your head calmingly. "How about I make you something and then we can go to bad? then tomorrow, I'm all yours.”

You nod gently. Chan takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen. He lifts you up to sit on the counter. You watch him lovingly as he prepares food for you. You eat together in the calm of your Kitchen, you honestly feel like you're dreaming.

When the two of you settle into bed together he holds you tightly. for the first time in months-- he holds you as you slip away into Slumber.

.

When you open your eyes, the sun abusing your poor eyes, Chris’ side of the bed is empty and cold.

You should have known better than that.

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@chmpgneprblem

@qoopeeya

@sleepysongbirdsings

@magicalcowboyarbiter

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@stayceebs97

[max1461]

biden trump pretrump posttrump democracts republicans elite university cancel culture twitter yimby nimby affirmative action rent control. we didnt start the fire leftist rightists liberals grey tribe what about this? what about... oh right. ais and other tech things will come along and make everything not matter. we should do vague technocratic liberalism for two decades and then ai will turn us all into immortal simulated minds or maybe replace all labor. it's probably not important to update social structures in light of that sea change we should keep doing like technocratic market liberalism even though the very concept of like man's place in the world is about to be. yeah that makes sense did you know that affirmative action is going to undo the industrial revolution? because diversity hires won't know how to operate the machines yeah. yeah the fall of the west is coming and china is going to put all american males in those sperm machines from the porn video but we should pretty much do centrist technocratic liberalism until then. and make a really big army to kill china when they show up wait I just thought of something. I forgot what it was but the world isn't very stable it's about to change drastically according to my thing that I believe in. yeah that usually doesn't happen I know but this time my thing that I am all worried about is gonna come and get us soon but instead of preparing for that I think we should sort of do centrist technocratic liberalism kind of as if the world was gonna keep chugging along for another few centuries kind of as if everything is business as normal wait not to make the point too on the nose but I think that's cognitive dissonance. I think if you really thought trump was hitler 3 you probably would act different than you're acting I think probably if you thought uh, whatever, I think. Well I don't know what's in your head but I don't think you.

Right so look at all of it right. Not just in a caricatured way but really look at all of it. It's just been going along, right? I mean it's just been chugging along. I'm glad I don't live in 1500s france but I probably would have been fine. I mean maybe I would have got depressed because I believe in too strict a religion but I'm depressed right now. Maybe I would have died sooner but I'm gonna die anyway, I've only got 80 years anyway. What if I lived in the soviet union? I like freedom of speech but on the other hand who cares. I would have got a job and been fine. Sucks that I can't voice my opinions and shit but on the other hand whatever.

You'll be fucking fine everybody's been fine forever. You'll be fucking fine. You uh, you treat everything as business as usual because at some level. Shit is just how it is you know. I mean there's the monty python caricature of the middle ages where they all ate dirty and shit but in the real middle ages they woke up did some hard work on the farm had sex with each other died of dysentery you're gonna die of some nasty shit that will be viewed as barbaric in the future too. "Yeah but that's a bad thing!!!" too bad it's your fate. The lot of every human ever you everybody before and everybody after is to figure out how to live in a world that kind of is not going to be nice to you. And your big world ending thing is not gonna happen it's just gonna be, wake up pay taxes get sick maybe find love like it's been for everyone forever that's all there is to it. Political regimes and technological systems come and go but eating and fucking and dying and hopefully making friends is forever. There's no point in thinking about the grand story of humanity unless you're an academic it doesn't mean anything or do anything. This post is very not fully endorsed but on the other hand I think this is the corrective most people here need. Don't worry about this shit just try to make some friends and not die too bad, that's all any of us will ever have.