#it's so bad. it's so bad. i know it won't be as bad as i think it'll be but right now it's so bad :( i guess i'm not too tired to cry avout

[five-rivers]

Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.

.

Interdimensional travel was hard.

It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.

"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"

"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.

"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.

"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."

"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."

"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.

"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."

"Then they ought not to summon you."

While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."

"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."

Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."

"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."

"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."

The Observants were silent.

"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"

The Observants scattered.

Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.

Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.

.

"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."

"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.

Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."

"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."

Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."

"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"

"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."

Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."

Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."

"You mean my Ghost King form."

"All your forms are your Ghost King form."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.

"It freaks people out, though."

"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."

"Is that likely?"

"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."

Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into

"You can do more than that."

"I can?"

"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."

.

The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.

This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.

They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.

And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.

The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.

It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.

Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"

Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"

"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"

"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"

"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"

"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."

"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"

"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.

The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"

"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.

"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"

"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."

Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.

"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"

"What did it say?" asked Batman.

"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."

Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.

"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"

"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."

"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"

"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."

A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...

"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.

The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"

"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."

"And just us, not our kids or anything?"

"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"

"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"

"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.

"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"

"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"

"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."

"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"

"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."

"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"

"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."

And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.

"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.

The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.

"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."

For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.

There was a burst of blinding light.

When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.

"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."

"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.

"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"

I've been summoned.

You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...

I can. You can't.

Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.

I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.

Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.

Close enough.

Figures (literally, 'certainly').

Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.

I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).

No! It's like being a parent.

Yes, one.

I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?

No! Gross!

No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).

[peachesofteal]

you bake when you’re upset or stressed - ghoap/f!reader

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the quiver in your voice doesn't do much to dispel Simon's suspicion, and you toss the bowl full of brownie batter onto the counter. "I'm fine."

"You're baking at three in the morning, sweetheart. Did something happen?"

"I had a bad day, is all. It's nothing." The lie hisses through your teeth, jaw set tight as an attempt to keep everything bottled up where it belongs.

"What's going on?" Johnny's leaning against the counter in plaid pajama pants, gold ring on the chain around his neck glinting in the dimmed light of the kitchen. They both wear them, the rings, the ones complementing yours, a delicate twist of three threads, woven together to make one tight knit strand, looped together in a knot at the top of your finger where a diamond would normally go.

"Baked goods in the middle of the night." Simon sticks his finger in the batter, and gives you a knowing look. "You know I'll keep you here until you let it out." You shake your head.

"Let's go back tae bed then." Johnny's trying to coax you, gently, as always. It's his way. Soft, slow, sweet. Even keeled and sensitive.

Still, you won't budge.

It's not them. It's something else, something unsettled in your stomach you can't explain. It's you. Always you. Distraught. Disorganized. Disappointing.

"I need to finish these." Simon's focus is one of a predator's, and you're always prey. Analyzing, anticipating, nose to the ground on a scent. He’s already got you pegged, turned inside out. He knows.

When Johnny carefully wraps his fingers around your wrist and Simon hops onto the counter with his knees spread wide, you know you're done for.

You let them arrange you. Let Johnny push you between Si's thighs and cup your face, stroke your cheek. You go willingly, lacking a fight that was so prevalent only an hour before.

It takes two minutes of physical touch before you're crumbling.

"I had a terrible day," you sob, "I got a parking ticket and spilled my tea and missed an important email and then I bailed out of my work out halfway because I was miserable and then I didn't do anything at home, I wasn't productive, I didn't get any of the laundry done like I wanted and I left so many dirty dishes in the sink last night, I-"

"Okay, hey." Johnny rubs your arm, "hey, ye're alright dove. Ye're okay." He knocks his forehead against yours. "Jus' breathe f'me. Just breathe." You suck a long gasp in through your lungs, Simon tightening his hold enough to ground you.

"Who cares about the laundry? It's not even your week, and the dishes are our fault. You worked all day, we laid around. Should have done them."

"I know!" You cry, "I mean... you should have. But I left them and I feel like I'm always so disorganized, I'm always making a fucking mess."

"I'd clean up your mess everyday. I love you, your dishes and whatever else… none of it matters." Simon kisses your temple, "we both would. And there's nothing wrong with calling it during a workout if you're not feeling well. That's the right thing to do." You nod miserably, lingering in their hold, their arms, your heart rate slowly sinking back into a normal rhythm, your air coming easily.

"Now, do ye really want these brownies? Or do ye want to put the batter in the fridge?"

"Batter in the fridge." You press your face into Simon's shoulder, blocking out the light. You're suddenly so tired, energy drained from the emotional purge, and Johnny rubs your back.

"I'll put it away, ye two go get in bed. Put on a movie, an' I'll be in."

The bed is the coziest place in the house. The safest. The warmest. It's so easy to succumb to sleep and sweet dreams here, so it's no wonder by the time Johnny makes it back, you're barely awake. He tugs you away from Simon's snores and into his arms. "Ah love ye, dove. Messes an' all." You smile.

"I love you too."

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Actual Ultimate Classpecting Guide

For real this time.

Buckle up, this is a really long one. For everything that's posited, I can provide textual evidence; that being said, I'm not going to be including the textual evidence within the essay itself, because it's already long enough as-is. As such, please feel free to ask for clarification or sources on any assertion, and I'll do my best to provide.

Before we begin, there's some things to discuss about how we're going to be approaching classpect in the following essay. In numbered list form for our short attention spans:

1. There is a concept Hussie talks about multiple times in his book commentary, "personality alchemy" - the idea that there are these "platonic ideals" of certain characters, which can be mixed and matched with others, in order to create new characters. The examples he gives are of how Eridan was a proto-Caliborn, how Kanaya has shades of Jade, how Nepeta was a proto-Calliope, and how Sollux and Eridan have shades of Dave in them. Classpecting is fundamentally a form of this personality alchemy:

2. Class describes the character's arc and emotional hurdles, while Aspect describes the character's base personality traits by which this arc is experienced.

3. For example, all three Seers struggle with hubris: Rose's need to be the smartest person in the room led to her being manipulated by Doc Scratch, Terezi's obsession with meting justice led to her engineering a situation where the only option was to kill Vriska, and Kankri's desire to be seen as a spiritual leader amongst his friends led to him furthering their divisions and harming them.

Then, when their pride is shattered, they cope by inflicting willful self-blindness: Rose turns to drinking herself stupid (the opposite of Light's sway over knowledge), Terezi gets down with the clown (the opposite of meting out Mind's justice, as it's a Gamzee W), Kankri goes celibate (Blood L) despite his clear romantic feelings for certain teammates.

4. As for Aspect: note how all three Life players share the personality traits of optimism, stubbornness, and obstinacy. All three Breath players share an immaturity and naïvety, and are quite frankly irresistible to people for some reason. All three Light players share a need for the spotlight and a tendency toward long-windedness and persnicketiness. So on and so forth.

What's interesting is, if you start analyzing characters that share Classes and Aspects, these specific types of similarity crop up over and over - all our Knights struggle with insecurities and facades, both our Bards have a crisis of faith. All three Breath players have an aspect of immaturity and childishness to their characters, and all three Light players are deeply concerned with appearing intelligent and feeling important.

5. As a result, this guide is NOT intended for classpecting real life people, because we are complicated, we contain multitudes, and we don't have arcs. This is primarily an analysis of what Class and Aspect mean in Homestuck based on textual evidence, because I genuinely believe that you can basically figure it out if you read carefully.

6. Duality, and the idea of "equal and opposite," are major themes within Homestuck - Prospit and Derse, Skaia (described as a crucible of birth and creativity) and the Furthest Ring (the literal afterlife). Which classes are involved in an Active/Passive split, and opposing Aspects, are the same way. This is the primary method I used to determine the Active/Passive pairings and opposing Aspects. After all, as Callie describes, both Thieves and Rogues are classes "who steal" - so, too, do I try to unify Classes by a common theme, even if they diverge wildly in how that theme is expressed (as Thieves and Rogues do). In the same way as the opposite of "up" is not "apple," but "down", because "up" and "down" are both fundamentally concerned with relative vertical position, so too can be defined concepts like Breath and Blood, Hope and Rage, Light and Void - as well as the reasoning behind Class pairings like Heir and Page, Maid and Knight, and Seer and Mage.

7. Descriptions for both Class and Aspect are left deliberately vague and up to interpretation within the comic itself, and this is by design: the actual manifestations of an Aspect can vary wildly given the Class, and even individual person, that it's tied to. Calliope even makes note of the fact that, under the right circumstances, someone can manifest effects that appear to be the opposite of their aspect. She's also careful to couch her language in "may" and "can" - because these concepts are intentionally somewhat nebulous and malleable. As such, while this guide certainly lays down what can be gleaned and inferred from the text, do note that Homestuck runs on a soft magic system, and as such, nothing stated is firm, 100%, must-always-be-this-way - just an overview of what we've seen.

8. There is often great overlap between Aspects, Classes, and Classpects - which Calliope herself notes. Heart and Blood are one of the most salient, as they both have a fixation on relationships, and Calliope mentions that under the right circumstances, a Classpect may even be able to manifest what appears to be the opposite of their Aspect. Again, Homestuck operates on a soft magic system, so this is a feature, not a bug.

ASPECT

There's a little less to say about Aspect, not because it's less complicated, but because "base personality traits" are much more nebulous compared to Class's sway over character arc. Still, Aspect represents the fundamental way a character is, and thus, color every interaction that character has. There's a reason Ultimate Selfhood is sought through Aspect, not Class - Aspect is the core of the character's being, what makes that person that person.

That all being said, Class has major sway over how an Aspect manifests, and certain classes can even invert the Aspect and even the character's role in the party. As such, these descriptions must be parsed carefully in relation to Class. Moreover, due to the soft magic system, there is at times overlap between unrelated Aspects, which can also be exacerbated by Class - Heart and Blood being the most obvious in this regard. Still, overall, you'll find the Aspects to be fairly distinct from one another.

Please also note that every Aspect can deal with its literal counterpart by default - Light players can wield lasers, Breath players can wield the breeze, et cetera. Because this kind of goes without saying, and because the non-literal stuff is more interesting to discuss, I'm not really going to go into too much detail about the literal qualities.

SPACE / TIME

Space and Time are both concerned with physical reality, goals, and the way one approaches them.

Space is associated with "the big picture" - with recycling, reproduction, and the interconnectivity of all things. The aspect also presides over the enjoyment of the journey over the destination - Space players serve as reminders that the present moment is as important as the end goal. Space is often a more passive Aspect, being the stage upon which the story is set. They're the hosts of the party, and the one who marks the ending.

Its players reflect these tendencies, often being feminine, with penchants for life-giving acts such as gardening. Their personalities tend towards frivolity and silliness, finding it difficult to stay on-topic or bring full gravitas to serious situations. Perhaps a better word would be "distractable;" when the aspect is so concerned with all things in connection with each other, it's easy to lose track of details, and it's easy to enjoy things simply as they come. Space players tend to be kind, patient, and forgiving, which is a strength as much as it is a flaw; it's easy for malicious actors to take advantage of this compassion, or for the Space player to find themselves in a poor situation by being overly permissive. They can easily be painted over by stronger personalities, and tend to struggle with romantic relationships, as they attract many with their kind and giving natures, and few are naturally so considerate of the Space player in turn.

A Space player's struggle lies in finding the strength to assert themselves, picking out the good from the bad, weeding the garden so it can flourish and thrive.

Time, in contrast, is associated with "the little things" - with details, minutiae, and processes. Time presides over the struggle toward something greater, the endurance of hardship with an eye on the prize - the destination over the journey. Time players are the ones keeping track of the tasklist, marking off each item as it reaches completion; they are the tireless workers keeping the whole engine running.

Time players, thus, are ones whose lives are marked by struggle. They are highly goal-oriented; in contrast to how Space players can easily move from goal to goal, task to task, Time players feel bound to see things through to the end, finding satisfaction only when they've achieved their desired result - and only until they come across the next goal in their journey. A Time player isn't happy without a goal to work towards, a craft to polish, a prize to win - but this driven nature can easily be its own downfall, as it leaves little room for the player to admit to their own shortcomings, or ask for help from others. Moreover, their focus on minutiae can leave them blinded to the bigger picture, and it's easy for a time player to fall to despair, able to do nothing more but spin their wheels. They're prone to directionless anguish, frustration, and resentment towards the seeming futility of their actions, becoming destructive and defiant even when it doesn't serve them to do so. In the worst case scenario, detach entirely, coming to a standstill.

A Time player's struggle lies in finding peace with themselves, such that they can enjoy the fruits of their own labor - labor whose rewards only multiply when the cause and methodology become clear.

BREATH / BLOOD

Breath and Blood are both concerned with directionality, interpersonal relationships, and autonomy.

Breath is the Aspect governing freedom, liberty, and independence; it is a force that breaks shackles, clears out social norms, and refutes "the rules," whatever those rules may be. Breath players can't be tied down, whether by physical bonds, societal rules, or even the ineffable forces of the narrative itself. They are leaders of example, pioneers, and trailblazers, opening new paths for their teammates to follow.

Breath players are goofy and gullible, often with hearts full of childlike whimsy, naivety, and even immaturity. They are friendly and well-meaning, fond of simpler things, and easily swayed by others. They approach the world with a sincere earnestness, which is not always well-received. Something about this sincerity seems to make Breath players irresistible to others, and they often find themselves the subject of romantic attraction. However, in this childishness is also the great pitfall of many Breath players - their natures are naturally conflict-averse, and egotistical the way a child can be, failing to see beyond themselves. They can be incredibly callous when not considering the consequences of their actions, or the viewpoints of others. Their easy-come, easy-go natures make it difficult to focus them towards a goal, and it's easy for them to simply allow themselves to be tossed around by circumstance and the whims of others, or to simply run away from their problems entirely - never confronting their own responsibility or fault for a situation, passing along the blame.

A Breath player's struggle is letting themselves mature - letting themselves take responsibility, and understand that their actions have consequences for others. Only then can their breeze blow in the party's sails, aiming towards victory, breaking through all obstacles to reach it.

Blood, in sharp contrast, is the aspect that governs bondage, contracts, and interdependence. It is a force that binds. Under Blood's sway are not only romantic entanglements, but familial, friendly, and societal ones as well. This aspect sees overlap with Heart, but the division is this: Heart concerns itself with feelings, and Blood concerns itself with compatibility. Blood players are diplomats, forces that remind us all that we are more similar than we are different, and that that similarity should bring us together when we are on the verge of pulling apart.

Blood players, reflective of their Aspect's association with bonds, tend to be neurotic and obsessive. They have a tendency to over-examine and overthink, constantly fretting over the infinite and infinitesimal variables that influence the shape of society and interpersonal relationships. However, this judgmental nature stems from a deep well of idealism and empathy; Blood players can't help but care about others and wish for the best for them. In a way, this makes them one of the most mature members of the team, capable of cutting through to the core of other peoples' interpersonal issues. Unfortunately, their prowess does not extend inwards, and their assessment of themselves is usually direly incorrect - all the worse because Blood players always feel responsible for those around them. Blood, being the Aspect concerned with interdependence, is the weakest one when all alone. Thus, it's easy for the Blood player to wind up a nag - desperate to make sure everyone is moving according to their vision, they'll fuss and bother and interfere and boss people around until everyone else gets sick of them. It's easy for them to wind up pariahs of their own making, severing their own ties with others by their efforts to establish them.

A Blood player's challenge is of learning how to turn that empathy and honesty inwards, to calm down and let themselves enjoy the presence of others; only then can they come to know how to build something stronger and better.

LIGHT / VOID

Light and Void are both concerned with knowledge, ontology, and "narrative relevance".

Light (as well as its counterpart) are perhaps best understood through the lens of "narrative" - this idea that, of all things that do and don't exist, and all events that do and don't happen, only the ones put to page are "relevant". Thus, Light is associated with knowledge and luck - that is to say, it's associated with the knowable, the objective, and the concrete, and the ability to determine "important" events. Light players have read the book they're participating in, and able to serve as luminary guides from one plot point to another, lighting the lampposts for others to follow.

Light players, naturally, are erudite and educated, possessing keen intellects and cunning minds. They are fond of knowledge itself, of markers of status and prestige - whether that's wealth, the adulation of the masses, or a massive library. They harbor a desire to be important, to be seen, to be acknowledged, and are happiest when they are looked up to. Conversely, they deal poorly with being looked down upon. Their confidence transmutes easily into hubris, and they struggle with having that pride challenged. As such, they tend to be volatile and unpredictable, quick to retaliate against those who threaten their egos, or obsequious to those whose acknowledgement they desire. Their desire for the limelight can quickly spell disaster for those around them, who are reduced to supporting characters in their minds. Craving so much external validation, they're often blind to what would actually make them internally happy.

A Light player's challenge is of coming to terms with their own limited reach, and allowing themselves to shine not for their own desire for importance, but for the betterment of the world in which they live.

Void, in contrast, is the blank spaces between the words. That which is secret, subjective, unknowable - these are Void's domain. It's associated with taboos and hidden things, sexuality and pleasure. It's also associated with the empty canvas - the blank space before creation, and the oblivion to which creation is eventually destined for. Thus, it stands for infinite possibility, though the collapse of those possibilities into a reality removes that reality from Void's domain.

Thus are Void players ever cosigned to the background, though this generally suits them fine. Void players are very self-possessed. Where Light players tend to exaggerate and complicate, Void players are honest and simple, preferring straightforward solutions. They don't tend to think very hard, instead letting intuition and emotion guide them to where they want to be - which makes them one of the more stable and reliable personalities on a team. However, this simplistic, feelings-driven approach often leads to complications and unforeseen consequences, and very easily to irrelevance, with which Void is so closely interlinked. A Void player's reliance on emotion and intuition can result in overindulgence of pleasure, to the active detriment of the party's goals or the Void player's self-improvement, leaving them lost and irrelevant, unable to act.

A Void player's challenge is in resisting the call of the Void's temptations, instead dragging the Void behind them, kicking and screaming, to where it can be of use.

MIND / HEART

Mind and Heart are concerned with what it means to be a sentient being, with identity, and with why we do what we do.

Mind is the Aspect associated with logic, rationality, karma, ethics, and justice. To a Mind player, they "are" because they "think". They are keenly aware of the consequences of every action, and well-versed in cognition and behavior, such to the point of manipulating others with ease. Deeply concerned with the "effect" of cause-and-effect, Mind players are always cognizant of debts and credits, where justice is owed and where it has been over-meted, and their subtle machinations culminate, like well-placed dominoes, in grand finales.

Mind players are schemers - it's in their nature. They have a tendency to view the world as a puzzle or game, with themselves and the people around them as pieces on a board, and set as their standard rules the laws of ethics and karma - owed debts and overhanging credit - guilty and innocent. Mind players are wickedly cunning, and have an high success rate with every scheme they commit themselves to, but the grand downfall of all these tendencies is that they tend to lack in a sense of identity, and have a poor grasp on their own emotions or desires. While they may know how to provoke a desired reaction, they don't know how to change someone's mind. They often find themselves grappling very painfully with their own selfhood, with feelings of emptiness, inadequacy, or uncertainty; this often leads them to seek codependent relationships, hoping somehow that they can find the validation they need externally, not realizing that they're deepening their own fragile self-images.

A Mind player's challenge lies in tempering their natural understanding of karma and justice with kindness and empathy - not just to others, but to themselves, and using that enlightened understanding to lead others forth.

Heart, then, is associated with feelings, motivations, intuition, the soul, and the self. To a Heart player, they "are" because they "feel" like they are - and they're keenly aware of the multitudes that are contained within themselves. Deeply concerned with the "cause" of cause-and-effect, they're drawn to desires, those of themselves and of others, especially where strong feelings are concerned. Heart players are gifted with an intuitive understanding of those around them, both their good and bad qualities, and are tasked with the grand task of bringing out the best.

It stands to reason, then, that Heart players have a firm grasp on who they are and what they want. For the same reasons, it's difficult for a Heart player to truly hate or condemn another person, because they are so adept at understanding them. However, this understanding comes with a price - because the Heart player is so aware of themselves, they can't escape their own worst traits - nobody self-loathes as accurately as a Heart player can. Nor can they ever truly be untruthful with another, making them poor manipulators. Capable of presenting a different facet of themselves as the situation calls for it, certainly, but just as it's impossible to lie to a Heart player, who always knows how someone really feels, it's impossible for a Heart player to lie to themselves. With this sincerity comes vulnerability, and vulnerability often brings with it pain; Heart players have a tendency to withdraw from others after being hurt too often, finding it easier to be alone and silent about their feelings than to deal with the pain of rejection.

A Heart player's challenge is in gaining the confidence to be open with others, to weather the pain of rejection, and let themselves share their gifts, that others may learn to share theirs.

LIFE / DOOM

Life and Doom are concerned with outlook, with journeys, and with trials and tribulations.

Life is an aspect concerned with healing, growing, and improving. It is associated with beginnings, optimism, and positive emotions. The very essence of Life lies in its healing abilities, in this idea of overcoming the odds and triumphing over hardship and difficulty. Life is action, movement, and motion, and its players can scarcely hold still. Life will find a way - and Life players harbor the same immutable belief; they are the most stubborn weeds in the garden, the cockroach that survives the apocalypse, and the beating heart that refuses to stop.

Life players tend to be optimistic and confident. They are self-assured individuals, with a stubborn belief that good things are on their way, and any hardship they face is not only temporary, but something that can be overcome. They can find the silver lining in any cloud, and enjoy themselves under any circumstance. They love to nurture, to care for others, though this love has a tendency to be one-sided. Indeed, Life's stubborn nature is its players' greatest pitfall; their persistence easily becomes obstinacy, and their confidence can become condescension. Their self-assured nature easily becomes egotism, and they can have great difficulty grappling with those who don't share their views - even coming to oppose those who bring emotional pain and suffering that can't be easily fixed. It's very easy for a Life player to decide another person isn't worth their attention, and opt to leave them behind - after all, Life has to move forward, no matter what it tramples in the process.

A Life player's challenge is in accepting the merit in taking a pause to consider unpleasant words and alternative viewpoints, in trying to understand the actual problems instead of imposing their own will onto others, so as to better focus their healing energies.

Doom, then, is the aspect concerned with death, with rest, and with endings. Doom is associated with suffering and with negative emotions, with peace, with sleep, and with dreams. Doom players have a natural penchant for prophecy, and are often dual dreamers, able to take advantage of both Skaia's oracular clouds and the Horrorterrors' voices over Derse. All things must eventually come to an end, and not all times will be good; in these troubling times, Doom players shine, as they are the guides who call the murk home, and know best how to navigate rough waters, course-correcting until the storm passes.

Doom players tend to be deeply pessimistic. They experience, to a much more magnified degree than others, negative feelings and impulses, and it's difficult for them to see the world without seeing its flaws, first and foremost. They are not healers, but commiserators, those who understand greatest that sometimes there's no way to deal with tragedy but to simply sit with it and wait for it to pass. The counterpoint to Life's insistence on breathless positivity, Doom is a reminder that pain, grief, sadness, shame, and guilt are not unnecessary things - in fact, excising them can lead to terrible consequences. Doom players are the universe's martyrs, often taking it upon themselves to course-correct, to sacrifice themselves in order to give others a chance to continue on, to avert a terrible fate. Unfortunately, this tendency also brings with it a tendency for Doom players to wallow in misfortune, or worse, to take themselves out of the picture, giving up entirely on seeing a better ending.

A Doom player's challenge is in rising above the melange of suffering and pain, to grasp personal peace, and to fill their lives, if not with happiness, then with meaning.

HOPE / RAGE

Hope and Rage are concerned with permission, and are the lens by which we define reality.

Hope is described by Hussie in the book commentary as being "framed as the most powerful aspect" because it is, literally, an aspect that defines reality. Its specific ability is lies in reducing the "fakeness attribute" of something, thus making it "real". Hope is associated with convictions, with idealism, with faith, order, holiness, and, of course, with magic - which Hope turns real. Hope is permission itself - a reality-breaking ability to look at the world and decree that it must be another way, a way in which the Hope player believes it ought to be.

Thus, Hope players tend to be hard-headed zealots. Their inclination towards powerful beliefs makes them very difficult to dissuade from a path they've set their minds to, and their specific suite of abilities makes them terrifyingly likely to make their vision come true. Hope players are usually not particularly cunning, nor particularly intelligent, nor even particularly empathetic. Given the Aspect's focus on conviction and faith, it's usually very difficult for Hope players to notice anything occurring beyond their own minds and feelings. Thus are Hope players hopeless optimists, hopeless romantics, and hopeless in general - usually not particularly well-liked, for their inflexibility, for their lack of empathy, and for their dearth of wit. However, their ability to define reality does not leave them when their beliefs are faulty (which they often are, given Hope players are not particularly introspective, either), which is what makes a Hope player so dangerous. Setting them on the wrong path, or breaking their Hope in twain, can result in disastrous consequences, as - one way or another - what a Hope player believes in comes true.

A Hope player's challenge is in seeing beyond themselves, letting others help guide their vision to something newer and more beautiful.

Rage, then, is the power of denial. If Hope reduces the "fakness" of a thing, then Rage reduces its "realness". Rage, too, is a means of defining reality, in this case taking a torch to the aspects of reality that it rejects. In more passive Classes, this works in subtler ways, stoking others towards destructive fury. Rage is associated with anarchy, chaos, revolution, destruction, anger, and nihilism. A Rage player will not suffer a world that does not satisfy them, breaking it to pieces, such that something new can take its place.

Therefore, Rage players are prone to harboring anger and resentment, discontentment with the status quo, and faith only in that what currently exists must somehow be dismantled. However, unlike Hope players, who can't help but be pathetically sincere, Rage players grasp that their natural inclinations are bothersome to others, and often try to mask and hide their embitterment and anger. This, ironically, leads to further ostracization, as others can tell they're being inauthentic. This only further compounds their sense of alienation, and drives them further into smoldering resentment; in the worst-case scenario, the Rage player turns that rage out indiscriminately, deciding that there is nothing worth fighting for - only unpleasant things to be brought to ruin. This makes Rage players sound volatile and dangerous, and they are - but the same fury that moves them is the fury that ignites revolts and tears down oppressive regimes, a necessary and vital well of energy and momentum. It takes careful handling to ensure that the team's Rage player can channel this energy towards righteous causes, rather than marking all as a target for their destructive ire.

A Rage player's challenge is in learning to be authentic and true, and to allow this to release the pressure of their mounting ire, such that it can be converted into productive, rather than destructive, energy.

CLASS

As previously stated, Class governs a character's character arc - the character's starting circumstances, whether their conflict is primarily internal or external, and what major aspect of their Aspect becomes a hurdle for them to overcome.

In the same way an Aspect's sways tie into the character's base personality, the character's Class abilities tie into the kinds of struggles they face, and have great influence on how their Aspects manifest.

That being said, a character - and their Class - are always subject to their Aspect, as their Aspect is tied fundamentally into who they are. Thus, it can be said that a Light player will always have an affinity for knowledge and provide Seer-esque guidance even when not in a Seer role, a Doom player will always have prophetic abilities even with a non-prophetic class (note that Mituna, an Heir, still had prophetic visions, despite those generally being the realm of Mages and Seers), and a Life player will always have a penchant for healing, even paired with a destructive Class like Prince or Thief (the Condesce, after all, could still extend life; a Prince of Life would likely manifest not as one who causes plants to wither and die (this would actually suit a Prince of Doom), but one who destroys in the way of nature overtaking an abandoned shack, or a forest breaking down a body).

This means that when a character's Classpect inverts their Aspect, it doesn't mean that they suddenly become a hero of the opposing Aspect - rather, it means that, at their very worst - at the nadirs of their character arcs - they will lean so much into their Aspect's worst traits that it will superficially appear as the opposite, when all it really is is an absence of themselves. Dave, a Time player, usually so attentive to detail (despite his disaffected facade, he's always paying rapt attention to Karkat's rants, and noticing all the clues pointing to his destiny of defeating LE), at his lowest emotional point (arguing with Grimbark Jade after sobbing about his lost childhood whimsy), states that he doesn't think Lord English is that big a deal, and never even did anything directly bad to him or his friends - when he was literally directly haunted by LE via Cal his entire childhood. Similarly, Rose drinks herself stupid in order to cope with her mother's death.

Note how, superficially, this almost appears to be an invocation of Space's "big picture thinking," its passivity and permissibility, or how Rose's case appears to be Void's tendency to indulge in vices and pleasure - but they're not. Time's worst traits superficially resemble Space, Light's resemble Void, and vice versa - Grimbark Jade is the Condesce's taskmaster, and Porrim at her worst was as much of a nag as Kankri, trying to do a Time player's managerial job. Horuss and Equius at their worst won't shut up and won't stop talking over their partners. So on and so forth.

Finally, Calliope tells us a couple things about Active/Passive pairings. The first is that Calliope introduces the idea of paired classes with the idea that both Rogues and Thieves "steal" (and later, that both Princes and Bards "destroy"). This presents the idea that both classes can be roughly summed up with the idea that every pairing can be summed up with a common theme.

The second is her description of what makes a Class Active versus Passive - that Active Classes move their Aspect to benefit themselves, whereas Passive Classes allow their Aspect to be moved in order for others to benefit. In a way, they're like active and passive voice in grammar (to tie in with the way Classes and Aspects are so tied to ideas of narrative and character arc) - an Active Class performs their Aspect, and a Passive Class allows the Aspect to be performed "by others" (the famous piece of advice regarding telling the two apart being that a sentence written in passive voice can have "by zombies" tacked to the end of it - eg, John is attacked "by zombies", as compared to active voice - John attacks).

Thus, the Class pairings, along with their basic themes, are as follows:

KNIGHT - / MAID +

"One who controls."

Knights and Maids are paired together through two key factors: the first is that they both hold leadership or managerial roles; the second is that both classes carry the connotation of serving a Lord. Fittingly, they are both struggle with the control of malicious forces - Knights with prophecies indicating their role as heroes, Maids with direct usurpation by malicious forces.

PAGE - / HEIR +

"One who inherits."

Pages and Heirs are paired together because they both fundamentally deal with the great inheritances placed before them. Pages can come into incredible, limitless power - but they must struggle and work hard for it; Heirs begin the game in societal comfort and wealth, and must learn to defect from their decadence.

THIEF - / ROGUE +

"One who steals."

Thieves and Rogues are highly adaptable, as Thieves are capable of fantastic on-the-fly adaptation, whereas Rogues have an infinite toolbox at their disposal. They are both provocateurs, shakers of the status quo, though the Thief does so for personal gain, while the Rogue does so to right injustice.

MAGE - / SEER +

"One who guides."

Mages and Seers are tied together by the gift of prophecy and future sight. Seers are privy to the endless branching paths that the future may take, while Mages are gifted with the ability to outright determine a future that will certainly happen, appearing to be prophecy.

WITCH - / SYLPH +

"One who changes."

Witches and Sylphs are individuals blessed with great magic, but poor judgement. Sylphs heal and nurture, but are drawn to those with strong desires, and enable them to cause great harm; Witches, meanwhile, possess strong emotions, which they often use as moral guidance, for better or worse.

PRINCE - / BARD +

"One who destroys."

Princes and Bards are representatives of society - the one who determines its course, and the one who recounts its passing. Princes suffer from a toxic overabundance of Aspect, and are prone to spectacular meltdowns, whereas Bards are always poised for a crisis of faith. Both are responsible for catastrophic failures - but also breathless victories.

INDIVIDUAL CLASSES

KNIGHT

"One who controls [Aspect] or controls using [Aspect]."

Knights are frontline warriors, rallying points behind which the party falls into line. Although they are often leaders, just as often, they are logistical planners, strategists, or simply the team's beating heart. They are almost always thrust into positions of narrative significance, often carrying grand destinies or even outright heroic prophecies on their shoulders. The are the party's rallying force, its center, and a guiding light - the one to lead the charge, behind which the party will follow.

The primary character struggle a Knight will have is with crippling insecurity. Knights are prone to self-loathing and imposter syndrome, and will often adopt a façade in direct opposition to their aspect (ie, their fundamental personality) in order to cope with their feelings of inadequacy. Thus, their relationship with their aspect becomes love/hate - though they're naturally drawn to their aspect, and even naturally skilled at utilizing it, they have a tendency to become their own worst enemy, as their insecurities make them push their façades, and their façades distance them from their aspect.

"Controlling their Aspect" means that the Knight has easy access to their Aspect, wielding it like a tool or weapon - for good or for ill; "controlling using their Aspect" is what grants Knights their leadership abilities, able to dictate how others ought to act in accordance with the Knight's Aspect - whether their understanding of their Aspect is high or low, whether their advice is good or bad.

Therefore, at their worst, a Knight will fall prey to their insecurities, retreating into their facades, rejecting their Aspect, which will allow disharmony or misuse of it to proliferate throughout the team. They may even wind up deliberately twisting their Aspect's presence within the team so that they never have to be confronted by it; these distortions ripple outwards and eventually culminate in major catastrophes, all on account of the Knight's negligence.

But at their best, a Knight is a shining beacon and guiding light; when they come to terms with themselves, and allow themselves to be comfortable in their own skin - when they no longer allow themselves to be ruled by their insecurities and anxieties - they ensure that their aspect is harmonious wherever it appears throughout their party, and can wield it expertly as a weapon, as if it were their own flesh and blood.

MAID

"One who allows control through [Aspect] or allows [Aspect] to be controlled."

Unlike Knights, which take positions of frontline prominence, a Maid is a managerial presence in the backlines, though no less crucial for the smooth functioning of a party. Just as the invisible hands of the hired help keep a household running, the Maid will be called upon to provide vital services to keep the game stable, even if those services are more noticeable by their absence than their presence. Maids are often the party's unsung heroes or even shadow leaders, tugging at invisible strings, fingers on the pulse.

A Maid's primary character struggle will be that of escaping oppression. Maids tend to start the game in positions of subjugation or subservience, especially to malicious forces, and their abilities often end up being exploited to serve their masters' ends. Therefore, one may even have the impression that a Maid is ruled by their aspect, held prisoner and slave - at least until they're able turn the tables.

"Allowing their Aspect to be controlled" means that Maids are capable of directly dispensing their aspect unto others - a Maid of Time can dispense time unto foes, pausing them in their tracks; a Maid of Life can grant so much life that they can revive the dead. Their boons are great and direct, straightforward in a similar manner to Knights. "Allowing control through their Aspect" grants them their uncanny managerial abilities, as their aspect dictates the realm in which nothing occurs without the Maid's knowledge or permission, a realm made available to whomever the Maid's allegiance lies with.

Thus, at their worst, the Maid becomes a saboteur. Exploited by malign forces, their abilities to allow control over others through their aspect, or control of their aspect, makes them perfect vehicles by which their aspect can be hijacked or usurped, and made to turn against the party, and they often find themselves placed into these positions through no fault of their own. It takes the party banding together to shake off the forces that would keep a Maid in bondage.

However, at their best, Maids ensure that the party can never go too far off the rails. There is a place for everything, and everything will be in its place; a Maid is a supply line, a safe haven, and a promise that everything will be neat and tidy when the party returns from war. When the Maid belongs to themselves, their homestead becomes a fortress, and nothing occurs under the Maid's watchful eye without their express permission.

PAGE

"One who works to inherit [Aspect] or inherits [Aspect] for themselves."

Pages are a class defined by promise. As the name suggests, a Page begins weak, but has the great potential to develop into one of the most powerful players in the game. The exact nature of a Page's powers are vague, not because they are insignificant, but because they are so great that it's difficult to encompass them all. At the apex of their arcs, Pages are capable of miraculous feats, overpowering even Lords and Muses - if only they could reach that point and stay there.

A Page begins the game weakest of all, reflective of their long journey of growth. Where most classes only fall into deficit of their Aspect at their lowest emotional points, Pages begin their arcs in deficit - exhibiting character traits opposite to those their Aspect normally encompasses. Moreso than any other class, a Page must learn to grow into their Aspect. Weak-willed, naive, and easily hurt, Pages require careful nurturing if they're to come into their own.

"Working to inherit their Aspect" describes the endless journey of growth the Page must undertake - one with many missteps, backslides, and setbacks along the way. Still, they "inherit their aspect," meaning that their full potential, when realized, is overwhelmingly great - practically becoming their Aspect in humanoid form, capable of utilizing it to its glorious full potential.

However, their nature defeats them, and even if they can attain this state, the Page usually can't stay there for long. At their very worst, the Page's deficit of their Aspect's better qualities can turn the Page into a gravitic well of misfortune - an albatross about the party's neck, the centerpoint, if not inciting incident, of a massive disaster, as their team is sucked in by the Page's natural weakness.

But this is only true as it contrasts to a Page at their best - having grappled and won with the greatest of all weakness, a Page is poised to come into the greatest of all strength. Shown kindness, compassion, and support, a Page at full power reflects a party at their best. A Page at full strength is breathtaking to behold, an unstoppable force of nature, their Aspect made manifest.

HEIR

"One whom [Aspect] grants inheritance or inherits [Aspect] for others."

Heirs, in contrast to Pages, start the game strong. They usually belong to the upper echelons of their respective societies, a position of great wealth, leisure, and comfort, and are set to be inheritors of even greater wealth. Similarly, their Aspect comes to them as if of its own will - it is powerful, but difficult for the Heir to control, reflecting the wealth and status they've enjoyed as birthright.

An Heir's main challenge is that of examining their privilege, and learning where they wish to spread the gift they've been given. Because of their positions of sheltered comfort, Heirs are not particularly world-wise, and often harbor massive blind spots to the suffering of others and the ills of society. As such, they tend to be fairly aimless, given great power but no strong motivations, and have a tendency to simply indulge in their Aspect without contributing great help or hindrance to their team at all.

The Heir's Aspect is practically an independent entity. Being one whom "their Aspect grants them inheritance" refers to how the Heir starts powerful, able to summon their Aspect to perform great, miraculous acts. However, it is highly intuitive and difficult to control. The Heir's challenge lies not in attaining great power, but in attaining control over, and the ability to direct, their existing abilities. Once they do, they can "inherit their Aspect for others" - Heirs become a conduit through which their party can experience their Aspect, making it a usable pool of wealth for them all to draw from. However, because of their comfortable positions, many Heirs end up dallying, finding no pressing need to do so.

But this dallying hides a ticking clock. An Heir's inheritance will come to them, one way or another, and if they aren't ready to receive the great responsibilities that come with such great power, then the power will eventually consume them. An Heir with no clear direction will eventually become lost to their Aspect, entirely removing both from play. Like how wealthy inheritors simply become part of the status quo, so, too, does an Heir disappear into their Aspect, fixing it in place.

Thus, Heirs must learn where they have been blind, where they have been foolish, and what it means to be underprivileged. Then, once they turn their energies towards addressing those injustices - to taking responsibility for building a better future - when their wealth comes to them, they'll be able to distribute it where it's needed most. An Heir, fully-realized, brings their Aspect to heel, and makes it a resource available to their entire team, as if welcoming them all into the family.

THIEF

"One who steals [Aspect] or steals using [Aspect]."

Thieves are, as the name suggests, greedy - much of their arc revolves around a desire to amass wealth, though what's considered "wealth" varies based on the Thief and especially their Aspect. They tend to be callous people by nature, capable of ignoring or trampling over the feelings of others in order to take what they want, in the hopes of filling an emotional void the Thief may not even be fully aware of.

The Thief's playstyle is one of careful resource management. Reflecting a natural tendency to take "wealth" from others, Thieves are unable to use their Aspect without first "stealing" it - a subtractive act which leaves the victim bereft of the Aspect, weakening them in the process. Because of the finicky nature of these abilities, it takes great cunning to be a Thief, and the Class both demands and requires the player to be adaptable, flexible, and quick on their feet, able to effect complicated schemes and engineer the perfect situations for their powers to have the greatest effect. Thieves aren't necessarily strong, but they have a very high victory ratio, because they're experts at turning a situation to their own advantage.

"Stealing their Aspect" refers to the fundamental way in which the Thief class is played, this resource management game; "stealing using their Aspect" reflects how the Thief often becomes a malignant force within the party, viewing their own teammates as caches of wealth to plunder. Thieves are naturally prone to hurting others for their own purposes, craving drama and attention, and being of such callous dispositions that they're able to perform extreme acts of cruelty given the right motivations.

Thieves often become a target of ire within the party, disruptive forces whose quest for personal wealth and fulfillment comes at the cost of those around them. At their worst, they can bring so much heat down upon their own shoulders that the party feels the need to treat them like an enemy, which is disastrous for party harmony. Moreover, it's disastrous for the Thieves themselves, as Thieves seek wealth to compensate for some emotional emptiness, and making enemies of their friends only serves to deepen their ennui.

Thus, a Thief must be taught that true happiness and fulfillment doesn't come from the struggle for wealth, but from the building of something better with those they care about. A Thief, thus turned to heroic purposes, becomes the party's pinch hitter - an adaptable spy, an unpredictable maverick, an element of surprise - and above all, a reliable ally, capable of turning any tide in the party's favor.

ROGUE

"One who steals from [Aspect] or steals [Aspect] for others."

Rogues, on the other hand, call to mind such figures as Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to distribute to the poor. Rogues are at their best when they're agents of a well-planned heist, as they possess an unlimited toolbox - their own Aspect - to play with. Their Aspect is a treasure trove, just waiting for the Rogue to plunder it and share its riches - if only the Rogue can figure out how.

Rogues are forces of revolution. They naturally carry a rebellious spirit, one which bristles at injustice, takes a stand against authority, and questions the status quo. Their ideas are unfocused, however; they know they must rebel, but usually don't start with a clear idea of against who or what. They know that their society is injust, but they don't know how to address that injustice. They know there are villains, and may even know these villains' identity, but they don't know how best to defy them. In a similar way, they're often lost as to how to utilize their Aspect beyond its most basic applications, and usually require external assistance in order to bring out its full potential.

Rogues' true potential lies in "stealing from their Aspect" - an additive act, rather than a subtractive one, as a Thief's stealing is. Rogues are capable of removing their own Aspect's sway over another entity, allowing it to exhibit the characteristics of the opposite Aspect; a Rogue of Void can create things out of nothing, a Rogue of Heart can tease out behaviors and actions. They can also "steal their Aspect for others," allowing them access to their own Aspect's suite of abilities as well. This allows the Rogue incomparable flexibility, their abilities - like their dispositions - rebellious and subversive.

But their rebellious spirit, coupled with their lack of understanding as to who their real enemies are, is dangerous when left unchecked. Rogues often suffer from a failure to start, giving up on trying to understand the deeper implications of their abilities, and of the society they can't seem to find contentment in - but they can also suffer from a worse fate: rebellion without a cause. Rogues' free spirits can lead to them bucking the status quo in ways that actively harm others, performing acts of taboo or poor taste just because that rebellious energy needs to be put to use somewhere. These can have disastrous knock-on consequences, as some things are taboo for good reason.

Thus, Rogues need to be guided - to make connections with others, and come to a greater understanding of the world at large. Once they know their target, and what needs to be done, the Rogue makes sure there are no obstacles along the way - no safe is uncrackable, no prison inescapable, and no problem unsolvable, so long as the Rogue is there to work their magic.

MAGE

"One who guides [Aspect] or guides [Aspect] for themselves."

Mages are prophets, of the "always correct" variety - or so it seems. In actuality, Mages don't "predict" the future, they "choose" it - in a setting where the future is mutable, the Mage's ability is to speak into existence a future they desire, to tip the scales of causality and collapse possibilities into a single definite course. Their Aspect is the lens through which their "prophecy" occurs, a realm in which they command the fabric of reality itself.

As if to karmically balance this incredible power, Mages are afflicted by deep and terrible sadness. They start the game miserable, having been subjected to the greatest injustices their Aspect can offer, tormented by guilt, shame, and self-loathing. Their worldview has been shadowed with a lens of suffering and anguish, and so, too, is their view of the future. Mages usually begin the game having already set several prophecies into motion, and these early prophecies are usually obstacles that the party must overcome.

Mages "guide their Aspect" - this refers to the way their prophecies, that is, their chosen futures, always come true. Their visions may be limited to the sway of their Aspect, but it remains a powerful ability nonetheless. "Guiding their Aspect for themselves," then, outlines the Class's Active nature - the futures the Mage picks must be ones the Mage believes will come to pass.

Unfortunately, Mages have a tendency to pick ugly futures. This isn't out of malice or anger; this is because Mages start the game sad, and without intervention, grow sadder. They're prone to spirals of negativity, self-loathing, and depression, and as their outlook dims, so, too, do their forecasts. Mages suffer, but even suffering can grow familiar - can even appear comfortable or desirable, if the Mage suffers long enough. It's easy for them to grow so accustomed to misery that misery is the only outcome they can see - spelling doom for the rest of the party, one prediction at a time.

But a Mage whose party shows them kindness and forgiveness, compassion and empathy, can pull them out of their misery. How beautiful, then, the future appears! A Mage who believes in a brighter future is a force to be reckoned with. When a Mage can bring themselves to say, "and everyone lived happily ever after," you had better believe they did.

SEER

"One who who is guided by [Aspect] or guides [Aspect] for others."

Seers, meanwhile, are the true future-sighted, able to see the myriad paths the future could take. Like Mages, their Aspect serves as the lens by which their vision is colored; the Seer can sense, with fine accuracy, which paths are closest to the sway of their aspect, and which paths will take them further away. As if gifted with a guide to the game, their intuition is tied directly to the mechanics of SBURB, and they serve as the party's guides, a role indispensable in a game with so many moving parts.

Seers will struggle with blindness, first by hubris and ego, and then by self-harm. Seers begin the game quite full of themselves, proud of their prowess in their Aspect - usually arrogantly so. When this pride is inevitably shattered, Seers have a tendency to deal with their feelings of shame and guilt with willful, self-induced blindness - as if flipping a switch, they become ashamed of the pride they once placed in their Aspect, and seek to place as much distance between it and themselves as possible. There's comfort in ignorance, even if it renders the Seer useless.

Seers are "guided by their Aspect" - able to sense its presence, they gravitate toward it, and towards futures with it in abundance. And, in the same way, they "guide their Aspect for others," lighting the way for others down the path of greatest reward. Seers truly love their Aspect, no matter how much they may misplace their faith in it, and seeking it out is a great joy for them.

This is why a Seer at their worst is so tragic. By inducing intentional blindness within themselves, they are functionally deadening the strongest part of their soul. No matter the temporary relief this brings to the sharp, jagged pain of shame, it invariably deepens the Seer's suffering, as they deny themselves not only their own joy, but their ability to help others - another act which inherently delights them.

Thus, a Seer needs to be made to deal with their shattered ego head-on, to accept their own shortcomings, to become at ease with the idea that they don't have all the answers. Once their vision becomes clear, and their view becomes honest, the party nevermore has to fear becoming lost or straying from the path - the Seer will see to that.

WITCH

"One who changes [Aspect] or changes [Aspect] in others."

Witches are the winds of change, tweaking reality all around them until it suits their desires. A Witch is presence that commands both fear and respect, and their Aspect bows down before them, reduced to a mere minion in the Witch's presence, ready to attend to all their needs. In a way, the Witch's powers are straightforward - they can manipulate their Aspect as they desire, changing its qualities as they see fit. "How they see fit," then, is where the issue lies.

Witches are usually of "outsider" status, never truly being part of the society from which the rest of the party descends. Free from the same rules and common sense that govern the others on their team, Witches instead operate on a value system heavily reliant on their own emotions. What a Witch deems to be correct, to be true, or to be righteous, are often based not in any objective measure, but in subjective, emotional bias - and they're emotional creatures, indeed. Prone to fits of great anger, Witches can be benevolent one second and malicious the next, and their abilities let them imprint, to a greater degree than any other Class, their desires onto the world that comes after them.

Witches "change their Aspect," as in, the crux of their abilities lies in manipulating the qualities of their Aspect in their surroundings - extending, shortening, magnifying, shrinking, growing, removing… so on and so forth. It's a fearsome power. They also "change their Aspect for themselves" - their Aspect is hapless but to obey their desires; Witches change the world to suit themselves, and their feelings of how things "should" be often become how things "are" in short order.

Thus, a Witch who has been swayed toward evil entities and nefarious ends is a truly dangerous opponent - and it is unfortunately easy for this to happen. Witches' social isolation means they tend to trust their emotions, and a force that flatters these emotions can easily win a Witch's trust. By the same token, those that fail to flatter the Witch are often considered enemies, even if they're benevolent forces. A Witch's morality can thus become warped and topsy-turvy, which has grave consequences for the world that the Witch then shapes.

Therefore, a Witch's struggle lies in learning to see beyond their own emotions, to take in the opinions and assistance of others even when it seems superficially unpleasant, to move beyond the childlike rejection of that which is uncomfortable. Once able to see a more nuanced form of right and wrong, once able to tell evil from good, Witches can build even utopia.

SYLPH

"One who allows [Aspect] to change others or changes [Aspect] for others."

Sylphs are nurturers and healers; they bring to mind fey folk whose very footsteps cause plants to grow. Wherever they go, whatever they touch, all becomes suffused with the Sylph's Aspect, which flourishes under their careful cultivation. Sylphs adore their Aspect, and their Aspect adores them; Sylphs generally feel at peace with themselves, surrounding themselves with what they like.

A Sylph's main challenge - or rather, the main challenge that Sylphs wind up posing the rest of the party - is that Sylphs are enablers. They're attracted to those with strong wills and extreme dispositions, amused by the havoc they wreak and pleased by their attention. Sylphs love to pick out favorites and lavish them with care and attention, excusing any wrongdoing on their behalf and shielding them from consequences. At the same time, those who don't strike the Sylph's capricious fancy find themselves discarded in the Sylph's mind, shut out from the boons the Sylph can provide.

A Sylph is "one who allows their Aspect to change others" - this almost always manifests as healing, as it's an additive ability (that is to say, the Sylph can grant more of their Aspect to someone). "Changing their Aspect for others," on the other hand, explains this enabling nature of theirs - the Sylph will intervene to make the world into a playground for their favored individuals, even to the point of turning other, less "interesting" teammates into playthings for the Sylph's beloved.

Thus, while the Sylph themself isn't particularly prone to wild mood swings and acts of malice, their influence can still cause disaster by allowing unscrupulous individuals to flourish - even encouraging their worst tendencies. A Sylph's touch is subtle, but that subtlety only lends it an insidious quality, as the Sylph quietly works against the good of the many for the cruel, selfish pleasures of the few. At their very worst, the Sylph can deem themselves their only favorite, and render everyone else a minor character in their one-man show.

Thus, Sylphs must be challenged. They must be made to reckon with the fact that favorable treatment is not necessarily kindness, and that bias can easily become harm. When a Sylph is able to grasp the difference between bias and doing good, and tune their approach toward that greater good, uncolored by bias and personal preference, then there is no place safer, kinder, and more conducive to growth than the Sylph's embrace.

PRINCE

"One who destroys [Aspect] or destroys using [Aspect]."

Princes are the most anxious, psychologically anguished members of a party. They suffer from a toxic overabundance of their Aspect - its traits are taken to an extreme, and not only the Prince, but those around them, are made to suffer for it. Princes are naturally set on a path of self-destruction, the culmination of their uncontrolled accumulation of their Aspect, and their meltdowns are spectacular, taking their Aspect - and whoever is unlucky enough to be in the same room - with them.

A Prince's challenge, therefore, is as simple to understand as it is difficult to overcome. The Prince needs to learn how to calm down, relax, and find inner peace. Princes are terribly prone to circular thinking and downward spirals. Their natural inclination is to feel anxious and responsible, like they carry the weight of the world, and this causes them to act out in extreme and aggressive ways. Eventually, others pull away, put off by the Prince's intensity. This only deepens the Prince's malaise, and Princes are - pushed by this hovering sense of urgency and catastrophe - willing to employ drastic, desperate measures to enforce compliance with their wills. They wake on their moons early, reflective of their driven natures. They're determined to a frightful degree, and no sacrifice is too great, no work too dirty, if it means achieving what they see as the greater good.

Princes "destroy their Aspect" in this way - by presenting their Aspect at its worst, they make others take distance, ruining it for everyone else. Their hard wills, intense emotions, and unshakeable drive to do what (they feel) needs to be done - at any cost - is their source of power. Thus, Princes "destroy using their Aspect" - their toxic overabundance of Aspect lets them channel it into a pure, annihilatory force; what they lack in the delicate utility of the other classes, they make up for in raw, ruinous power. Princes can easily deal the greatest damage in a combat scenario, their ability to destroy overriding nearly everything that would stand against it.

Thus is the problem with Princes. They're ticking time-bombs of anxiety and frustration; when they finally go off, they carve a path of destruction, before ultimately self-destructing, leaving no trace of their Aspect behind. Not only that, but it's very difficult to defuse the bomb early; Princes have finicky, aggressive, and complicated personalities, and tend to react poorly to straightforward attempts to calm them down and reason with them. They often appear to be their own worst enemies, marching inexorably toward their own destruction.

But Princes not only can be saved, but must be saved. They must be saved because kindness and compassion must exist for their own sake, and a Prince rescued from their own worst tendencies is living proof of the truth of that sentiment. A Prince, given the peace they need to reorient their priorities, will not rest until they see a brighter future realized. They will be the first to rise, and the last man standing, banishing - as if by royal decree - all obstacles, all enemies, all misfortune, and all ills.

BARD

"One who invites destruction through [Aspect] or allows [Aspect] to be destroyed."

Bards are the wild cards of a party, responsible for both improbable victories and catastrophic defeats - sometimes both in a single session. The methods by which a Bard works are a mystery to even the Bard themselves, which make it easy for the party to dismiss their powers - and, by extension, the Bard themselves. After all, who would expect there to be consequences for something so ridiculous as a Bard?

Bards are usually targets of abject ridicule by their teams. They can't help it - they're religious types, or at least types that hold great, lofty, ridiculous beliefs near and dear to their hearts. A Bard's primary struggle invariably winds up being a crisis of faith. Bards begin the game with a positive, "correct" faith in their Aspect; however, something will inevitably occur that shakes the Bard's faith in this viewpoint to its core. In this state, Bards are incredibly fragile, and it's very easy for them to succumb to whispers of cruelty and destruction, for their beliefs to warp, and for the Bard to come to serve the worst aspects of the society they represent.

A Bard "invites destruction through their Aspect" - their powers are subtle, but have catastrophic effects. Bards are instinctively drawn towards causing the first flap of a butterfly's wing, which cascades into a grand, impossible karmic backlash. They "allow their Aspect to be destroyed" by being the conduits for the forces of their faith - whatever faith they hold - to wreak unimaginable consequences across the game.

Thus, a Bard must not be allowed to fall into darkness. The cost is too great. They must be treated with kindness, patience, and sincerity, and given a chance to re-establish their faith in a better, brighter future. If this can be done, then at the party's direst moment - in their darkest hour - they will find that kindness paid back a thousandfold, as an innocuous act by the Bard that no one remembers balloons into a miracle.

[demonic0angel]

"What's up with Red Hood?"

"Him and Wolf got into an argument, and now the drama king is lamenting that their love life is dead."

"Is it?"

"Only if one of them died."

(🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃)

“What do you mean?” Goon 1 asked.

Goon 2 and Goon 3 shared a look and then looked back at him. “Oh yeah. You’re new to this gang, right?”

Goon 1 nodded nervously. “Yeah. I joined a few weeks ago. What do you mean by Red Hood’s love life? Is he dating Wolf?”

Both Goon 2 and 3 grimaced. It was Goon 2 who said, “No. It's even worse. Because they’re in love and not even dating.”

Goon 1’s eyebrows rose. Then wanting to know more of the tea, he asked eagerly, “Really? Why’s that? Is it unrequited? What’s happening?”

He paused, remembering where he was, before he glanced nervously to the side where Red Hood was flattening himself across the table dramatically. He was still bemoaning his fate and giving recited soliloquies to himself. It was clear that he was trying to lure out Wolf, who had went into another room to cool down.

It had been a little confusing and worrying earlier, but if it was love troubles, then he could completely understand!

Goon 3 leaned closer and pointed a thumb at Red Hood subtly. “Our boss is awesome and he knows almost everything, but he’s too gentlemanly to pursue Wolf!”

Goon 2 also leaned in. “And Wolf is just as bad! She does anything and everything to help him and they’ll flirt all the time, but I think the helmets are making them blind! They can’t see the fact that they both want to date each other even if it slaps them in the faces!"

"It's like watching a train wreck! They're so in love that it's disgusting but they're both too afraid to make the first move!"

They all glanced over, just as Wolf left the office room and approached Red Hood, who sat up eagerly to meet her. They talked quietly and then Wolf placed a hand on Red Hood's chest gently. Red Hood nodded happily and the tension eased.

Red Hood then turned to the rest of his gang, who were blatantly staring.

"Don't worry, children!" He said teasingly. "Your mother and I aren't divorcing anymore! We won't have to share custody!"

Wolf audibly groaned and slapped his arm, but Red Hood just laughed and corralled her to the office again, where they shut each other inside.

Everyone was silent. Then they all cheered loudly

Goon 1 stared at the closed door thoughtfully.

"... and you're sure they're not dating?" He asked through the screaming and cheers.

"Trust me, I'd sacrifice my firstborn to make them stop the flirty comments and lovesick looks."

[fieldofheathers-stuff]

The mines they kept us in.

Quick(ish) greyscale study because I wanted ti practice. I got tired midway and probably won't finish it. Posting it anyway because it's not so bad.

Yes I know that you shouldn't smoke in a mine, but there's no OSHA in Zaun.

[taxi-cab-to-slowtown]

ALL OF THIS. but let me say one more thing: fascism is ingrown in our school system in America and probably in other places too. It has gone from looking at a book or text critically, analyzing the good and the bad and the importance of it, and become just dissecting if it is a "good" book or a "bad" book. Fascism wants you to see the black and white in EVERYTHING "that is badly written so it's bad" "that book's author is transphobic" "that gamemaker gave money to Donald Trump" etc. We think we're being progressive, we're targetting people who hate the people we think they shouldn't hate, but really we're boiling it down to its base elements and saying "this thing is bad and so this WHOLE thing is bad"

A lot of times when I say that I'm an Edgar Allen Poe fan people point out to me that he was a racist. Yes, he was, and you can see that in his work, but by aknowledging and accepting that, I can look at how harmful those racial steryotypes are, and how they were influenced by Poe's time and situation. When someone says "you know he's a racist right?" they think what they've done is proven why I shouldn't like him, but actually the way his racism influences the text is important to the analysis and seeing the influences of his texts. There's also the fact that there are a lot of GOOD things about his writing, things you miss when you pass it off as "he's a racist". For instance, a lot of his texts rebell again the idea of sexuality as sinful, and preventing love. For instance "Annabelle Lee" is a tradgedy where heaven prevents a pure romance because its jealous, that's an outright rejection of the societal norm of the time, which had sex as something uncouth. And don't even get me started on the way Poe utalizes uncouth words in his horror to pull on that feeling of arousal and disgust. For instance in The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket he says, “I at length breathed a faint ejaculation to God, and resigned myself to die." I won't get super into it more becuase this was all part of an essay I wrote but the point is nothing is EVER black and white, and when you approach it as such, that is the influence of facist thinking.

I think one reason we see facism in Gen Z in fandom spaces most often even when they are verbally left-leaning is that the school system has facism baked into textual analysis. No longer is it critical theory and exploration, it becomes "is this text good or bad" "is this character good or bad" "should this character have done this" etc. Part of this is because of the decline of the school system. Good and bad is easier to work with when you have a population of students who more and more cannot read as well as they should be able to. but also, it's because fascism in this country is getting worse and worse, and teachers can't even recongise the dangers of the types of lessons they are teaching.

Stop thinking "is xyz good or bad" and instead think "what is this text saying about xyz". We can all say that Poe is racist and that's bad, but Poe doesn't matter. What matters is the text. What is the depiction of Dirk Peters saying about racism against natives in America in the 1800s, how has this racism influenced the climate of America and American litterature today? What can we do to lessen the impact of this influence? If you label all of Poe's work as "bad racist" then you loose the importance of these texts to the whole narrative.

And that's what fascism wants.

it's true and you should say it.

[kpoperotics]

Surrendering to Lia x Male reader

When the quiet allure of the night draws you closer to Lia, you discover a world where restraint melts away and passion ignites like wildfire. Her touch teases, her moans beckon, and every shared moment pulses with an electric intensity that leaves you craving more.

On the bed. Candles burning, giving the soft warm light in the room. Lia's lying beside you, her hands are already on you making you shiver with their touch. She moans in your ear, because she knows how bad this drives you crazy. She won't waste time, she has already taken your pants and underwear off, stroking your hardening shaft.

She jerks you off really good, making you feel her palm against your slick hard cock. Her hand rubbing up and down, her grip is tight and firm

"Just say it, you want me to take you in my mouth, babe" She says and you don't even have the time to think about it that... she's already sucking on your tip. You can't help but let go of a moan.

Pleased with your reaction, Lia takes more of you in her mouth, she starts to gag on your cock as she bobs her head up and down on your hard cock. She looks at you, silently asking for approval, you nod and hold her head with your hands as she keeps going.

In the meantime, her hand reaching up to your balls to cup and massage them, the pleasure only adding and adding the longer she sucks and treats you right.

She pulls back for a moment to breathe, strands of drool stick her chin to your cock. "God, you're just so fucking good, babe" You say, she smiles and takes you back in her mouth, this time diving deeper than before, so deep that she gags loudly; she's taking you all the way in, her nose buried against your pubis.

She's making you loose your mind, that's obvious, and she wants to take you to the edge, make you cum so hard for her. God she wants it so bad, and she works to earn it.

Her hands are working on your balls as well, squeezing and rubbing against them to increase your pleasure. She closes her eyes, her tongue flickering against your throbbing cock.

"Shit, Lia, I'm almost there- oh fuck" You moan. Lia smiles at your declaration and stops sucking you, to tease you but also because she doesn't want you to cum in her mouth. She straddles her legs on you and rubs your cock against her wet dripping pussy. She moans and throws her head back, then, she finally sinks on your cock, letting you dive all the way in her.

"Fuck!" She exclaims, one hand on your chest and the other one squeezing her own breast as she starts to ride you.

Squeezing her breast and riding you, Lia is a moaning and gasping mess. She's too focused to get your cum inside her that if you asked her what's her name, she'd probably answer it wrongly.

"Fuck me, use me, fill me up with your cum. Please, I need it, I need you inside me so bad, I beg you daddy.." She begs with her eyes half closed and her mind hazy with pleasure.

You're going to cum so much inside her that even if she took pills, she would probably still get pregnant.

Seeing her boobs bounce and her jumping on your cock like that brings you close to the edge, you grab her ass and squeeze it strongly, your nails leaving marks on her skin. You even spread her ass cheeks to finger her asshole, deeply, while she rides you.

Lia's eyes roll back in her head and her tongue darts out at the sensation. She can't even moan anymore, she went too dumb even for that.

You cannot hold back anymore at the sight and you just let go. Spilling so, so much cum in her womb. She's a living earthquake, trembling, shaking. She went so dumb for your cum, so cum-holic. You're still cumming inside her, deep in her womb. She crumbles on you, her mind coming back from the high, she regains her senses and looks at you.

"I have nothing to say but... wow" She smiles.

You smile back at her and lie her down on the bed.

"Goodnight, Lia" You say.

[ggidolsmuts]

Fromis App Part 16: Deserved Better - Fromis_9 Chaeyoung

You're cuddling Saerom in bed while she's on her phone, and you hear her sigh against you.

"What's wrong?"

"Chaeng needs more funding, there's less kids now, so the daycare needs additional budget to stay afloat."

"Chaeng? Who's that? You have a daycare?"

"Chaeyoung, you met her, at the... discipline session? You've been in and out of our office so often. And yes we offer a daycare for our employees if they need them. We charge a small but cheap fee, so it's usually a little under break even, but recently there's fewer kids, so she needs more funding from us."

"Huh, I didn't know that. Chaeyoung's the tall one right?" Saerom nods. "I didn't know she ran the daycare."

"She really likes being around kids, so when the previous nanny left we offered her the role."

"I see, how come I haven't seen her around the office?"

"The daycare's in a different part of the building, gotta keep the noisy kids away from the offices. You can go see her if you want!"

A few days later with Saerom's instructions on your phone you enter the Fromis building but take a left, down a hallway you've never gone to before. As you reach close to the end of the hallway you hear childish giggling, the hallway walls going from office standard drab grey to child-friendly yellow and blue.

"Everybody, what do you say?"

"Thank you Miss Lee, goodbye Miss Lee!" A chorus calls out. You step aside to let the horde of children pass by. Chaeyoung smiles at each of them before finally seeing you.

"Oh, hello! We haven't spoken since umm, that." She blushes, remembering the last time she met you, a whirlwind of sex with some of the other employees involved.

"Yeah, just wanted to say hi. I never saw you at the offices and Saerom just told me why."

"Oh yeah that's true! Well it's just this little space, I can show you around but there's not much to see." You look around at the messy scatter of chairs and papers and crayons and decide on a better idea.

"If you don't have class soon, want to grab a coffee?"

"Thank you..." Chaeyoung smiles and takes a sip from the coffee you brought her.

"You know, I feel like I don't know anything about you."

"Really? I know everything about you though. Seoyeon's very happy with you."

"You mean— She talks to you about, umm, me and her?"

"Not just her, we have a group chat. Just because I'm not in the office doesn't mean I'm not in the know." A small smirk appears on her lips.

"Now I'm curious, you never reached out, or matched with me on the app. I don't think I'm that bad in the bedroom so... boyfriend?"

"The girls assure me you're not, so you don't have to worry about that. And no, not boyfriend." She pauses and takes a sip of her coffee, giving you time to process her words.

"Girlfriend?"

"No, or at least, none that haven't slept with you too. It's all casual between us." You raise an eyebrow but she says nothing more.

"Illness?"

"If you mean STDs, I'm definitely clean. And nothing else that would prevent us— I mean me, from doing it."

"So you are thinking about 'us', hmm." Chaeyoung drinks more of her coffee and doesn't offer more. "Really won't tell me?"

"No, and I assure you it's not for any physical reasons."

"Now I'm really curious. How about we do dinner, my treat?"

"As long as you don't expect anything afterwards." You agree, now more curious than ever—for whatever reason Chaeyoung's being very standoffish, yet she's blushing right now, and she has clearly been thinking about using the FROMIS app for some time with you, yet she hasn't.

"Tonight then?"

"Sure."

Later that evening, Chaeyoung's quietly nibbling on her pasta, seemingly to wait for you to finally broach the question you've avoided thus far.

"So, mind telling me the reason?"

"Sure. The reason I haven't reached out is because I didn't want to take your time away from the others, happy?"

"I... Have no idea what you mean?"

"I see the others having sex with you as a way of making them happy, keeping them stress free. They are more important than me to the company, so it is more important that you're spending time with them than with me."

"That's a very objective look at things."

"I have a stake in the company too, so I have to look at things that way."

"But I think you're taking too short-term a view. Because of the good job you're doing, the parents of the kids you're taking care of, the many employees of the company, they can do their work without worrying about them, they do a better job because of you! So, I think you are just as important as the others." You place a hand over Chaeyoung's, half-seduction and half-earnestness, wanting her to see her own value.

"You have needs too, and they deserve to be... Met." The flush is instantly apparent on her face—god, when was the last time she was touched like that?

"I said not to expect anything afterwards!" Chaeyoung mumbles, withdrawing her hand.

"I'm not. I just don't want you to feel like you're any less important than the others, okay?"

"I... Thanks."

"We won't do anything tonight, but you're my priority, I will block out whatever time you need when you want to." You grab Chaeyoung's hand again, kissing the back of it smoothly—a little cheesy perhaps, but you gather she liked it from the way she pulled away, blushing even harder.

"I umm, thanks. I should go, I have to get in early tomorrow."

"Of course, I'll see you home."

"No it's okay, I'll be fine." Chaeyoung grabs her bag and quickly hurries out. Later that night her legs are spread, hand between her thighs as she muffles her whimpers. Truth be told if you had seen her home, Chaeyoung would not have let you gone home that night. She would have pulled you in and—

"Nngh fuck!" She rubs her clit and moans into her hand. Even just thinking about your last time with her, where you and Seoyeon edged Chaeyoung until she was begging to for sweet blackout release, is enough to push her to a much stronger orgasm than her usual self-satisfaction sessions. Her hips buck against her hand, pushing against the imaginary you that should be pressed against her cunt. When she relaxes she looks at her own fingers—they're wetter than they've been recently. All of her talk about letting the others have you just makes her all the more needy the moment you make yourself available. You said that'd you prioritize her over everyone else...

"Ah!" Chaeyoung shudders as she touches herself again, one hand on her chest and another dipping past her flat tummy—is she actually going for a second round? She spreads her legs wider, biting her pillow to keep quiet.

"O-Oppa!" Tonight was going to be a sleepless night for Chaeyoung.

You don't hear from Chaeyoung for a week or so, but you do run into her as she's leading her class of kids back to the classroom.

"Chaeyoung!"

"Oh hey, what are you doing here?"

"Came to pick up Jiwon. You?"

"We just had a field trip to the nearby museum."

"Nice, nice." A little kid tugs on your pant leg.

"Are you Miss Lee's daddy?"

"Uhh what?"

"I have a mommy and she has a daddy. Are you Miss Lee's daddy?"

"Oh god..." Chaeyoung mutters under her breath. "No no, he's just a friend, like you have friends too, right? Come on, back to the classroom you go, go follow your friends, they're leaving without you!" She ushers the kid back hastily.

"Sorry, they only know mommy and daddy right now. Husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, still a while to go for that."

"No need to be sorry, they're just kids being kids. Good to see you!"

"Mmhmm, bye!"

You're on Jiwon's floor when you receive a message.

*I want you time tonight, please come over after dropping Jiwon off*

You smile at the typo she missed.

*Of course, I'll drop Jiwon off and come right over*

With a bit of cajoling and consoling you promise to make time for Jiwon next time, and she begrudgingly lets you go.

"Are you going there to fuck her? Be honest." she asks bluntly.

"Probably?"

"Good, fuck her hard, I don't think she's swiped on anyone at all, girl needs to properly get off. I'll let Saerom know Chaeyoung's taking tomorrow off, I want you to fuck her until she can't function properly."

"Who takes care of the kids then?"

"Eh, we'll find someone, that's not for you to worry about!" Jiwon pushes you out the door. "Now go before I change my mind and drag you back in here." You listen to Jiwon and bolt.

"Hey, I'm here," you call out, knocking on the door. It swings open to reveal a gorgeous Chaeyoung, dressed in a strapless black dress and stockings.

"Whoa, going somewhere?"

"Ah umm, no, not really. Come in." You sit down in her cozy apartment.

"You seem like you're dressed to go clubbing, do you want me to go with you to one?"

"Ah about that..." There's a metallic twang as she picks at the tab of her can for a moment. "If I asked, you would go to the club with me, dance a little, have a drink or two, and then end up either back here or at your place?"

"You are assuming a lot, but yes, I'm all yours for the night." Chaeyoung scoots closer to you, a dainty hand rubbing down your thigh and to your knee. In the stunning outfit she looked nothing like the pretty and kind teacher that plays with her children you saw just a little earlier. Now she's pressed against you, breath warm on your ear and neck, like a woman that had her needs, and she wanted them met now.

"I was thinking we could save a lot of time and just skip to the fun part."

"I like that, more time for the fun part." You turn to look at Chaeyoung, and her eyes are already shut, lips lightly parted. You should've answered "Definitely" to Jiwon's question earlier, because when you capture Chaeyoung's bottom lip she whines, a "Why haven't you stuck your tongue down my throat" kind of whine. You correct yourself immediately, capturing her lips a second time and pushing your tongue past them, earning yourself a moan, a promise that Chaeyoung's going to do everything she wants to with you tonight.

You cup her face to kiss her more deeply, but she's grabbing your hand and bringing it down to her chest. It's modest but still a fun handful, made even more fun by the reaction you elicit from her, a whimper when you grind your palm into her dress, massaging a breast roughly.

"Mmm, more!" You give Chaeyoung what she wants, switching to the other breast, wrinkling her dress a little more. You tilt her head back with your other hand, opening up the flawless skin of her neck to you. You're unapologetic in your kisses, sucking and leaving marks on her pale skin, marks that would be oblivious to her childish charges, but prompt many questions from their parents.

Chaeyoung moans loudly, your lips no longer there to suppress her moans—she's already overstimulated, the physical connection with you already too much. She clings to the back your head, pushing you harder against her neck. Short as it was, her dress suddenly felt restrictive, the heat between her legs growing by the second.

"G-Go lower!" Her hand guides yours down, but you stop at her hip, grabbing her and swinging her legs across your lap. With her arms around your neck Chaeyoung's looking at you needily, gasping as you run a hand across her flat midriff, pretending to go straight between her legs before bringing it back up to squeeze a breast.

"Nngh no!" She kisses you before begging with a whisper. "Please don't tease me like last time, I can't take it right now."

"I'm not teasing you. I know you want to cum." Chaeyoung shivers at the word "cum", as if just saying the word has an effect on her. "You deserve to cum hard, I'll get you there." Her eyes are glued to your hand as you bring it back down her body and under her dress. She tenses against you, bracing for your touch against her pussy, but it doesn't come.

Not yet at least. Chaeyoung whimpers when your hand brushes the inside of her thighs, and as soon as she traps you between them she moans—you've sunk your fingers into her flesh, pushing them apart again. You dance across the smoothness of her thighs, teasing her with squeezes, as if giving her a light massage on them. Her hands drifts to your collar, wanting to pull you in for a kiss, but you resist, watching her purse and then bite on her lips as you brush a finger over her panties, pressing against the soaked fabric lightly.

"Oh..." Chaeyoung sighs, moaning and resigning herself to her fate as you "scratch" against her wet spot repeatedly, the motion giving her just enough friction to feel you there, but not enough for her to build towards an orgasm.

"You said you wouldn't— GOD!" Chaeyoung yelps at the end, her voice cracking a little as you press firmly against her wetness, swiping over where you think her clit would be through her panties. Her hands dig into your neck, and she's trembling in your arms.  You debated making one more swipe, but at this rate she's due to blow as soon as you do that. You deposit her on the edge of the couch, and before she realizes it you've buried your head underneath her dress, slightly stretching it before her thighs quickly close around you, pressing against your cheeks.

"Huh? Ah!" Slightly dazed from your tease she's confused as to where you went. She sees the slight bulge between her legs, but she doesn't put two and two together until it's too late. Nothing prepares Chaeyoung for the lightning bolt of pleasure when you lick her pussy directly, her head snapping back as she let's out a loud cry.

You barely hear her, but you definitely feel her response, her thighs pressing on you head firmly. Chaeyoung's on the edge but you're not ready to push her over yet, sucking on the left lip and then the right, spreading her pussy with your mouth. She smacks your head not too softly, and you have to grab her hands to stop her from wrecking your head from all angles. Her fingers dig into your palm, and she's twisting left and right, her legs hooked around your neck, trying to get you to properly eat her. She's liable to snap your head off at this rate with how hard she's thrashing—you'll have to finish her off first!

You plunge your tongue deep into Chaeyoung, hands holding her hips down. She instantly goes still, before everything begins. Above you Chaeyoung grunts, core tensing as the feeling of your tongue inside her goes straight to her head.

"God, fucking FUCK!" Unbecoming of a childcare teacher Chaeyeoung swears and screams in pleasure, back arching as she explodes. Her world breaks into a billion brilliant pieces, moans loud and unrestrained bursting from her as she grabs on to you over the dress.

Underneath her dress you barely hear any of it, courtesy of her thighs crushing your ears and your singular focus on making Chaeyoung cum harder than she's ever had before. All you hear is the rubbing of her thighs around your ears, the dress rustling against the couch cushion, and the wet squelch of Chaeyoung squirting. It starts with a small spray, and you catch it with your face. Her pussy contracts around your tongue, and she is sweet and salty on your tastebuds with more slick. You capture her clit with your lips, swirling your tongue over it, and her heels dig into your back, pushing her butt off the couch.

"Hnngh!" Chaeyoung howls into a couch pillow, feeling your hands on her ass lift her pussy to your face. It feels so good but she needs even more! Without even being aware of it Chaeyoung pushes herself higher on you, thighs now resting on your shoulders, legs twisting to lock you in.

"Mmph!" Your surprised moan is muffled by Chaeyoung—she has the core strength to lurch herself closer to you, making sure you bury your face in her. Every little touch makes her squirt now—kiss her pussy, squirt; a single lick, squirt; you exhale against her warmth, squirt; your nose brushes against her clit, squirt. You bury your tongue in her, upper lip nudging her clit, and Chaeyoung gushing all over your face—all you hear is the splash of fluids, her thighs still trembling and muffling your ears. When she finally goes slack and releases your head, by volume there's probably more of Lee Chaeyoung on your face than there is on her couch.

You manage to extricate yourself, and when you take your first look at Chaeyoung in a while you're proud of your work—she looks absolutely shattered, a dopey smile on her face and a pink flush washing over her, like she's had a few drinks at the club she didn't go to. She puts her hands out for you, and when you get close she grabs you, face dripping with her juices and all, and kisses you fervently.

"That was amazing. But I want more, I deserve more, don't I?"

"Yes, but you should take a breather, grab some water—"

"No, I want it now!" She pulls you to the bedroom unsteadily, and you watch Chaeyoung peel off the dress as you remove your own clothes.

"Sorry about your shirt."

"Sorry about your dress." Both are soaked in her slick.

"I'll manage."

"So will I then." Chaeyoung kicks her panties off and you're immediately on top of her, already naked and ready to go.

"Wait, sorry, can we change the position?" You get off her, but she shakes her head. "No, just like this." She takes you by your hands, and she draws it under her legs, making you hook her knees. She continues pulling your hands up, making you lean over her. She keesp raising your hands until they're by her head, and her ankles are by your ears.

"F-Fuck me like this," Chaeyoung mumbles, unable to meet your eyes—she's put herself in a mating press. She lets out a gasp when you enter her, her wetness allowing you to get all the way in right away. "Ah, so deep!"

"You like that?"

"Yeah, mm!" You pull back before delivering a solid thump against her hips. "Yes, just like that!" Chaeyoung gasps as you start pounding down into her, all of your weight translating into pure pleasure for her—no matter how hard she fucks herself with a dildo, there's no way she could ever reproduce this feeling! All those nights where she was alone, knowing that you might be with Saerom, or Nagyung, or Jiwon, or someone else, and she drills away at herself—now she's the one you're with! She doesn't need to sneak a peek at each of them coming into the building, wondering who was the lucky one that got pounded into a barely noticeable limp, or who looked either peppier (Hayoung, Jisun) or sleepier (Seoyeon) the next morning. It's all about her tonight, and she's going to let herself enjoy it to the fullest extent.

"Deeper!" She cries, hands grabbing your arms, feeling them flex underneath her. Chaeyoung flutters her eyes, biting her lower lip—anything to entice you further. "Harder, do it harder!" You put a hand on her lower back, bringing her up to you a little, and you slam down.

"Yes! That's it daddy!"

"Daddy?" Chaeyoung opens her eyes in annoyance at your sudden stop, just before she processes what she just said and wishing she could close her eyes and will you away. She covers her own face with her hands, but you pull them away, watching her blush and squirm underneath you. "What did you say?"

"N-Nothing!" But you knew exactly what she said.

"Is that why you called me tonight?" You grind your tip deep inside her. "The kid asked, and you thought about me being your daddy?" She clenches around you. "And now you can't hold it in anymore?" You thought she would deny, maybe say something to deflect, and you'd have to fuck the answer out of her, but no, Chaeyoung's desperate, folding figuratively and literally as you press her legs further back.

"Y-Yes, I'm sorry! It just came out, ah!"

"I prefer oppa, but you can call me whatever you want."

"T-Thank you, mm! Thank you daddy!" After the first occurrence slipped out with no consequence, Chaeyoung's unraveling rapidly, replacing moans of your name with "daddy". She tightens up every time she says it too, causing you to grunt in appreciation.

"God, so fucking tight!"

"Only for you daddy, only tight for you!" Chaeyoung wails. You had known that she was subby, letting you and Seoyeon tease and edge her endlessly, but this is a whole new level. She's pulling you in for a kiss, allowing her legs to be pushed further apart and back, whimpering as you strike her deep. "I'm so close, so close daddy!"

"Are you going to cum for me?"

"Yes, going to cum for you, tell me when!" With a slight grin you continue pounding down into her, staying silent even as you rub on her clit. Chaeyoung's eyes widen before they disappear into her head, closing tightly as she tries to stave off her climax. She wants to remind you that you're not supposed to tease her, but she can't piece the words together, letting a high pitched whine out instead, like she's boiling up from the inside. The clenching around your shaft becomes tighter and tighter—Chaeyoung's losing it, she won't be able to keep herself from cumming!

"D-Daddy!" she wails, sounding like a whistle.

"Cum for me now!" You stay deep in her and rub her clit rapidly, and Chaeyoung cries out in glorious release.

"Yes!" The words are choked out, and her flat tummy twitches—you feel it in the form of her pussy clenching around you, sucking you deep as you take in the sight. Chaeyoung's a young and pretty childcare provider, kind and caring. An ideal, if not perfect, if not too perfect, type for many perhaps, especially with her looks and figure. 

"Hnnngh fuck!" Yet here she is, creaming herself all around your cock, getting the fucking that, in her own words, she deserves.

"That's it, cum as hard as you want, I'm here to give you everything you deserve." The pleasure roils and boils within Chaeyoung, and your lips on her neck, the subtle pump of your hips, the fingerpad on her nipple, it all brings her back to overflowing. She gulps and chokes on air, a small orgasm washing over her from that alone. When she finally stops trembling she finds herself sweating, her arms and legs tangling around you like a clingy vine.

"That was amazing daddy."

"Good, you deserve it." Chaeyoung pulls you in for a kiss, and thankfully she loosens up slightly around you—any more of her rhythmic, perhaps unwitting, tugs on your shaft, and you're close to losing it. You calm down a little, enjoying her warm caress, a satisfied lover glowing from the pleasure. She can finish you off later, but you were in no rush.

Chaeyoung has other plans though, she's not nearly as satisfied as you thought.

"But I think... I think I also deserve it from behind. And I also think I deserve your cum in me."

"What?"

"I want your cum in me, daddy." She's on all fours, and she grabs your shaft, pushing herself back on to you.

"Fuck are you sure?" She's even tighter from behind.

"Maybe I even deserve a baby from you."

"Chaeyoung!" You grip her hips to steady yourself. It's one thing to fuck her, it's another thing to breed her. And she's calling you "daddy", fuck.

"I like being around kids, why do you think Saerom offered the job to me? I asked for it. I want kids." Despite seemingly cockdrunk, grinding herself against your hips, you see that Chaeyoung's serious.

"Are you sure?"

"We're— I mean, I am, ready to have them. You're the only one I'm doing it with, so if it happens, great, if it doesn't, maybe in the future." She pushes herself up, pressing her back to your chest and wrapping her arms around your neck. "So we can have the talk later, but right now please just give me the breeding I deserve, daddy." You hips pull back and snap forward, like a rubber band releasing its energy, and Chaeyoung cries out happily.

"Just like that!"

"Is that what you want? Why you put yourself into a mating press, hoping I'd blow my load before I could do anything else?"

"I-I wanted you to cum in me twice daddy!"

"You didn't think I would last long enough?"

"No, I didn't mean— Nngh! I'm sorry!" You push Chaeyoung down on the bed and pin her there, hips humping down into her from above. You rub against her g-spot on each thrust, and she's screaming into the sheets, delighted at your "punishment".

"Fuck me daddy, please, cum in me!" You're slamming into her now, and when Chaeyoung buckles so do you, pressing down into her prone form and flooding her womb in an instant. Chaeyoung squeals into the kiss she finds herself in, her legs kicking, unable to handle the heat she's suddenly filled with. You grunt and groan, shoving yourself deeper with smaller thrusts, determined to drain yourself fully in her.

"Hnngh that's so deep!" One more spurt for good measure. With that you collapse on top of her, keeping yourself partially propped up to not completely crush her. It is a while before both your breaths stabilize, and you roll off her.

"Thanks oppa, that was everything I dreamed of, and more." You follow her eyes down, watching your load spill out of her. There was always an implicit understanding that Saerom and the other employees you had fun with took care of themselves, that they would ask you to use a condom otherwise, but for the first time ever Chaeyoung's making you question that.

"Chaeyoung, are you— Were you serious?"

"About kids? Yes. It's not a safe day, but it's also not that risky, there's a chance, and that's good enough for me."

"That's a huge decision, you should've—"

"There are big changes coming, we're all making big decisions, so— No, that's for Saerom unnie to break it to you." Chaeyoung shakes her head. "Sorry, just call it baby fever, thinking about 'daddy' just threw me for a loop." She kisses you in apology. "Don't worry, I won't make you take responsibility if—"

"No, that would be irresponsible of me. I just don't want you to make a rash decision while you're... not in the right state of mind."

"You mean needy and horny?" Chaeyoung asks as she cleans between her legs. "If I didn't want the risk, I would've just gotten myself off and called it a night, I have toys you know. So just enjoy yourself, I'm not worrying about it and I don't want you to be. I can stop with the breeding talk if you don't find it hot."

"Right, no umm, do what turns you on. If you want to call me names and think about being reckless in bed, I'll meet you halfway."

"Well when you put it like that, it sounds so... hot." Chaeyoung's rubbing her neck, feeling warm all over again. "But no, I'm too drained, let's just take a shower and hit the bed?"

"You want me to stay over?"

"Please?" She pouts, and you don't have it in you to say no. After she insists that you shower first rather than together ("I'm going to jump you if you get hard again."), you're dozing off as Chaeyoung curls up behind you, spooning you as she falls asleep against your back.

You're jolted awake by the sound of a cupboard door closing.

"Oh, sorry!" Chaeyoung's dressed in a form-fitting black swimsuit, leaving nothing to the imagination, highlighting her stunning curves.

"Going somewhere?"

"Oh, Saerom messaged me, told me to enjoy my day off? So I was going to go swimming in the morning instead!"

"Hmm, sorry, I can't let you do that." You wrap your hand around her waist, pulling her back to bed. "That's on me, I didn't do a good job."

"Didn't do a good job?"

"So Jiwon is the one who asked Saerom for a day off for you, because I ditched her for you."

"What? Oh no, I know I shouldn't have asked you to come over yesterday, I feel so bad!"

"No no, you deserved all of it." You run a hand under her top, and Chaeyoung's blushing pink at your forwardness. "One of the conditions that Jiwon let me go last night was that I fuck you until you can't function, and she asked Saerom to give you the day off because of that."

"So you failed, here I am... functioning, aren't I? Maybe I should message Jiwon, let her know that you failed, what would she do then?"

"We'll never know." You pull Chaeyoung against you, and she's melting by the second. "I plan to occupy you, sorry, I mean keep you occupied, for the rest of the day." Chaeyoung gasps at the thought, of you "occupying" her for the rest of the day. "Maybe you won't be able to function for about, I don't know, nine months?" Chaeyoung gasps again, growing warm in your arms. She said she was fine with just having a chance at a baby yesterday, but with how wet she instantly got she knows she's wrong—she needs to be bred, specifically by you.

"A-Are you going to, daddy? I won't tell Jiwon if you do." You respond by peeling off her swimsuit as she pulls you out of your boxers, and having never got up from the bed since you woke up, you're sliding back into Chaeyoung.

"I will if you get so tight and wet everytime."

"O-Only for you, only you can give me what I deserve!" You lift her leg, letting it dangle over your hips, and you're easily bottoming out in Chaeyoung again. "You're going to give me a good workout today aren't you? You're— Oh god, working me over so deep!"

"Yes, it's the perfect workout, we can lie in bed while getting the workout you need... And you'll get your fill all the same!"

"YES!" Chaeyoung cries out as both of you cum quickly—there's no need to last long when you're going to be fucking her plenty today, and the moment you cum, her orgasm is triggered as her body tries to milk you for every drop. As you slowly calm down from you climax you spy her closet full of clothes.

"Are those all your outfits?"

"Yeah, most of them, for work, going out, exercise, shopping."

"You have an outfit to go shopping?"

"Yeah, you know, easy to take off, so I can try on other clothes?"

"You could've stopped at 'easy to take off', go put it on." Chaeyoung's a little puzzled, but she goes over and puts it on. "Good?"

"Yeah." She's pushed against the closet door, and in an instant you've unbuttoned her jeans and pushed into her again. "Hnngh! What?"

"Cum for me." An eager finger on her clit and Chaeyoung's whining into your ear, sucking on your neck and leaving a hickey as she clenches around you.

"Next outfit. You deserve to get fucked in every one of them, I'd cum in you while you're wearing each of them if I could, just so you remember me as soon as you're not naked."

"W-What about when I'm naked?" Chaeyoung asks in a daze, still coming down from her orgasm.

"You won't have to remember, because I'll be there." She shivers against you, as if the thought alone gave her pleasure. She steadies herself and grabs the next outfit. Chaeyoung finds herself whirled around, bent over the bed. The air is cool on the back of her thighs as her skirt is swept up—

"Ughhh yes!"

Chaeyoung gasps as her oversized sweater is pulled over her head and her bike shorts pulled down. She can feel herself leaking cum from the previous load, staining the fabric. Your tongue and lips on her nipples make her leak more, but not before your fingers are shoved in her, trying to keep the cum in.

"J-Just put more into me!" she manages to moan out.

Chaeyoung's bent over her desk, her work blouse fluttering open—you're on top of her, coming down from your own orgasm and breathing heavily. The only reason that your load dripping from her isn't heard is because her discarded trousers are catching all of it.

"Wear this tomorrow," you mumble, tugging on her blouse.

"Hmm?! I can't, there's lipstick marks all over it!" The collar is pink from when Chaeyoung bit into it, trying to muffle her scream earlier. Your fingers delve into her, scooping up some of your load and rubbing it into the pink spots, as if that would make it clean. It just makes things smell, smell of you.

"Wear it tomorrow," you order as you place your fingers by her lips, asking her to clean them.

"Y-Yes daddy."

Chaeyoung's on the dining table, tiny boy shorts pulled to the side and your cock keeping it there. Her entire body is flushed pink, warm not only from the dishes that were just on the table a moment ago, but also from the pounding you're giving her right now, making her spill slick over the edge of the table and on to the floor.

"You deserve your dessert, don't you?"

"Yes!" Chaeyoung's pulling on her hair, and thrashing about, knocking over a cup of water.

"Good, here's your cream."

Now everything's spilling over the table edge.

In another world Chaeyoung could've been an idol, putting on different outfits for photoshoots, looking prettier than ever, each shot made to appear absolutely perfect. That Chaeyoung may have wondered if the studio would look like her apartment right now, clothes strewn everywhere, the tops and bottoms hanging on her frame for but a second, the time it takes to make a pose, before they're pulled off and replaced with another; Maybe she would have wondered if photoshoots would be tiring, having to change her outfits and poses constantly. 

This Chaeyoung is not capable of wondering, carried and pulled and tossed and finally, fucked on every surface. Her mind's mushy, she's picking up random clothing off the ground, mixing and matching—she doesn't even remember which ones she has worn already for you. Splattered randomly on her clothes are fluids of some description—a mix of her squirt and your cum. She's going to have to do one big load of laundry after you leave.

Speaking of big loads, you've left several in her, and as you fuck Chaeyoung in front of the mirror, the sinful schoolgirl outfit she has on, coupled with her utterly blissed out expression as she braces against the mirror frame, is going to make sure that this last load will last her nine months.

"God you deserve everything I have left don't you?" You growl, arms hooking under her shoulders, pulling her back and keeping her upright.

"Y-Yes, give it, please!" Chaeyoung's barely coherent, you think Jiwon will be properly satisfied if you took a picture of how Chaeyoung looked right now.

"You won't be able to wear these outfits again... This midriff? Gone." Chaeyoung's eyes are gone as well, rolling into her head, and she let's out a long, drawn out moan as you fill her womb one last time, cumming with you and eager to fully drain you and finally get some rest. She lets out a rasp, as if choking, as if she can't hold all the cum in her. She sobs, and a little bit of it leaks out from around your shaft—she's completely full! When you finish firing she sighs happily, going limp in your arms—you're the only thing keeping her up now, and you know she's out of commission, content and bred.

You put her down on the bed, and she pulls you in, pouting for a cuddle. Chaeyoung reaches for her phone, and the two of you laugh at Jiwon's messages.

*Yah, you better not see this message!*

*If the "1" disappears early I'll know!*

Chaeyoung types out a quick message.

*We finished, you should reward oppa with whatever he wants*

*Oh we will! Saerom's gonna tell him soon*

"We? What's this about Saerom, you mentioned her just now too."

"Don't worry about that, it will all be fine." Puzzled, you kiss Chaeyoung all the same—she deserves that much at least.

A/N: Well, got it out just in timeish (not really lol), but this is likely the penultimate chapter to FROMIS app. There'll be one more with the other members, hopefully it'll be soonish. Chaeng has always struck me as the super kind, super nice member, she cares a lot for them, so I wrote that in a little. Hope you like this one, have a happy 2025, and fuck pledis, WE FUCKING GO. Thanks for reading!

[nanamiscocksleeve]

how do u think the lads boys will handle the period cramp simulator?

Pain Tolerance

Zayne: He's probably not a stranger to pain during our period since he's a doctor who appears to be well-read about women's health (like him making us red date tea when we got our period).

But I think he's unaware of just how painful cramps can actually be. He's medically curious so he'll easily agree to being attached to the machine. He'll hold up for the first few levels and about midway he'll probably be surprised and grit his teeth.

I think Zayne has a high pain tolerance given that his evol literally leaves scars on him but he won't try to be macho and say it isn't that painful. Amp it up all the way I think he'll openly say this is the most awful thing he's experienced. After it's all over he realizes that while he is a good partner during these times, you go through this every month and it makes him more empathetic to your struggle.

Xavier: He knows your period can make you miserable and is willing to try it just to see how bad it is, but is a little hesitant about it.

On the lower settings he'll probably admit this is already uncomfortable and that he doesn't understand how women are supposed to think with this tingling in their lower body all day.

On the mid to higher levels, he's curled up in a ball panting. He's never imagined that this could be so painful and he's wondering how you manage to get out of bed and get to work like this. How do you focus on your day with this horrible ache in your belly, which also seems to crawl down to your lower back and legs?

During this time he'll probably ask to hold hands until it's switched off. He's sweating and asks for chocolate afterwards since that's what you seem to like when on your period. He says he'll never try that again but he also will do more for you now that he knows what your body experiences.

Sylus: Sylus has an image to maintain. He's not cocky enough to believe your cramps aren't painful, but he's seen you being a boss on your period and has convinced himself that if you can look that badass, he can too.

He's wrong. Like Zayne, he's fine for the first few levels but he says he understands why you complain that you feel like you're peeing during this phase. Amp it up at the mid-levels and he's wincing, trying to massage his belly to relieve some of the ache. He tries to act normal but can't, and it's humbling to him that you can go about your day like this and he's crumpled on the sofa.

At the highest level he's lying supine, saying this pain makes him want to murder things. He's sweating and has realized that you definitely have the higher pain tolerance because while you manage to go to work and complete all your tasks, he's thinking about drafting a will and asking you to take care of the twins. This is not a man who neglects you when you're on your period but after this experience, he creates a special storeroom just for you and fills it with all the things you'd ever need for an upcoming period.

Rafayel: I think Rafayel would be a little more playful about this until he experiences it himself. Like Sylus, he thinks that just because you can handle it, he can handle it.

Our dramatic little fish boi will lounge on the sofa as the simulator is hooked up to him. He'll say it tingles when it's turned on and as it amps up he'll probably realize he's bitten off more than he can chew. He'll complain the whole time saying this is miserable and askng why nature decided to make women go through this every month.

At the mid to higher levels he's swearing he's dying and that he needs immediate medical assistance. Thomas keeps bringing him glasses of water and he's groaning in pain, fingers curled into the sofa as he begs for the machine to be turned off.

Once he's unhooked from the machine, he'll probably sob in relief and tell you you're the bravest person to exist for dealing with this with hardly any drama every month. He'll also advise you to take time off when you get your period next and insist he'll run all your errands and get food for you and that he doesn't want you lifting a finger during this time.

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[titans-thoughts]

Shingles is kind of special to me. The chickenpox vaccine was developed in my lifetime. I know because I had chickenpox, which makes me at risk for shingles, since insurance won't cover the vaccine on someone so young.

I can tell you, chickenpox was hell:

Fever dreams? In my fever dreams, which were heavy on the black and red, gravity has left the building. (Well, not quite, but I was going to the side instead of down.)

And I had to be isolated.

The fever was so bad I basically was wearing an oversized muscle shirt to get water. Lots of water.

And the pockmarks were everywhere. I even had one on my penis, which is about as fun as it sounds.

But that was 1990, five years before the chickenpox vaccine. I had no way of preventing it. But here's the thing: If you're a parent, you can just get your kids their shots, and prevent all sorts of nasties.

[munsonsmixtapes]

May I request sub!eddie wanting attention but being too shy to ask for it?

Reader maybe teases him for it, and only touches him through his clothes until Eddie finally has to ask for what he wants.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) grinding, sub!eddie, dom!reader, use of nicknames (baby, good boy, pretty boy)

Eddie is never one to bring attention to himself no matter just how much he craves it. It doesn't matter what kind of attention it is, whether it's just a gentle touch or if he wants to get inside you, he won't say anything until you cuddle him or he's rock hard. He doesn't know why, but he can't ever get himself to voice it. It doesn't matter how long the two of you have been together.

And tonight isn't any different. You're lying on top of him as you watch a movie. He wants you and he wants you bad. That much is obvious by the bulge in his pants. And because you know he won't directly ask you for what he wants, you decide that you want to have a little fun, to make him beg for it.

Your hand slides between your bodies, grabbing hold of his bulge and give it a squeeze, leaning up just in time to see his eyes widen as a gasp falls from his lips. He stares back, loving what you're doing but wondering why you're doing it. Just as he's about to ask, you give him another squeeze before lowering yourself back down on top of him, your lips ghosting over his as you begin to grind against him, your legs straddling his waist as you do so.

His cock is even harder now and you try to hold in a laugh at how easily he falls for your tricks. Your lips find his and he's kissing you hungrily as one hand rests on the back of your neck, the other grabbing your ass. He's grinding against you so eagerly, still not asking for what he wants. All you need is one more push and you're sure he's bound to crack.

"You want me, don't you, pretty boy?" You ask as you bite down on his bottom lip, a whine escaping his lips.

"Need you so bad," he breathes.

"In what way, baby?" You ask innocently as you push his hair away from his face, your hands pushing up his shirt and he leans up so you can take it off. "Gonna need to hear you say it."

"Need you to fuck me," he says impatiently, his soft brown eyes going dark and you have him right where you want him.

"Good boy," you reply as you take off his shirt, tossing it to the side. He lies back on the bed as he watches you take your own shirt off, that pretty bra he bought for you now on full display. You're spilling out of it and he winces at how much harder he is thinking about taking it off of you.

You take off your skirt and panties while he does the same with his sweatpants and boxers. You save your bra for last, reaching for a condom and putting it on Eddie before straddling him again. You then take his hands and guide them up to your bra, leaning down so that your chest is against his, his hands unhooking your bra with ease. He slides it out from between the two of you before you lean up, Eddie staring at your hard nipples as he grabs hold of your hips, the two of you working together so he can slide inside you.

Your movements are slow as opposed to usual because you really wanting to savor the moment, to show Eddie just how much you care for him. You want to show him how gentle you can be as your hands grab hold of his, intertwining your fingers. Your lips find his in a sweet kiss as you move against him, his hips bucking against yours slowly.

"Fuck," he says against your lips as his hips buck against yours again, the two of you finding the perfect rhythm, your bodies moving together perfectly.

"That it," you reply. "Such a good boy for me."

This is all Eddie wanted and more. You're so good to him, always knowing what he wants and when he wants it. He didn't even mind the teasing, in fact, he encourages it, the whole thing never failing to make him hard.

You pull away and look down at Eddie, your pretty boy. His hair is fanned out around him and the sweat dripping down his body gives his skin a pretty glisten. And the faces he pulls as he responds to you are nothing but beautiful.

Your paces picks up and Eddie responds to your every move, eating it up as he whines and moans, his hands squeezing yours as he does so. He's trying to hold out for as long as he can, but he can feel his vision hazing, like he's close.

"Shit," he whines as his back arches, trying his best to keep up with you as you move even faster, the prettiest moans falling from your own mouth.

"Yeah? You like that don't you, pretty boy?" You ask in a teasing tone. "God, you're already close, aren't you? Aww, honey don't go stupid on me now," you push his sweaty bangs away from his forehead as you move even faster, trying to get him there.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he whines as he feels his eyes roll back into his head, an orgasm finally coursing through him and you help him ride it out.

"That's it, that's a good boy," you say sweetly as he lies back against the pillow, coming down from his high. "You did so good, baby," you tell him and he smiles widely at, you, that drunk feeling still evident on his face.

You climb off of him then clean yourself up as he does the same before you climb back into bed with him, puling him to your, bare skin to bare skin as you wrap your arms around each other, sharing nothing but kisses and I love you's shared before you go for round two, getting tangled up in the sheets until the early morning, Eddie being nothing but your good, pretty boy.

[pomegranatesarchive]

Female f1 driver!reader where she looses a bet and dyes her hair blue

thank you for requesting!! i chose to make this redbull!reader

series masterlist

.

“I’m staring to thing this was a bad idea guys,” you mumbled, feeling as Alex poured a glob of blue hair dye onto your head.

Franco laughed, slapping his knee, pointing at the top of your head, Alex waved you off, “Too late to back out now,” he murmured. He paused, looking down at his gloves before bringing his hand down to your head, smearing the blue dye, “Way too late….”

Franco giggled, “This was your idea!”

You shook your head, pointing a finger at him, “No. No. I was drunk!”

“You said that if I scored points this season you would color your hair blue.” Franco beamed.

“Well I didn’t actually think you would get points,” you grumbled, leaning back into Alex's hands, “You drive Williams.”

“That Williams gave me four whole points.” Franco smugly leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Just my luck…” you grumbled, “Alex make sure you make it even.”

“I know what I’m doing.” he scoffed, “It was my idea to put vaseline on your big forehead so it didn’t stain.”

“I know mister receding hairline isn’t talking about anyone’s forehead.”

“You really want to have said that while I’m in full control of your hair?” Alex smirked at your silence, "That's what I thought."

Your mouth was open, ready to rebuttal, but you were cut off by Franco, who let out an adoring sigh, "I'm going to miss you two."

Both you and Alex paused, frowning, "What do you mean?" Alex questioned his movement in your hair coming to a stop.

Franco laughed, waving you two off with a weak smile, "It's just--I'm not getting a seat next year, so I won't see you two anymore. That's all."

"C'mon you might get a seat," Alex tried, but Franco shook his head with a smile.

You tilted your head, reaching over and tapping his knee with your foot, "Just because you don't have a seat for next year doesn't mean we won't hang out."

"Really?" the doubt was evident in his voice.

"Really," you laughed, "I'm coloring my hair blue because of you, you think I won't want to hang out just because you're not racing? Cmon."

Alex nodded in agreement, resuming his work, "Plus me and Lily love Argentina, maybe we can visit."

Franco smiled a real smile this time, leaning back into his chair.

You three were still in comfortable silence for a moment, before you felt something cold drip down your next and down your shirt, "Um.." Alex froze, glancing at Franco with wide eyes.

"What did you do?"

"I think some dye might've run down your back..."

.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Begging you for more Caracalla fanfiction pretty please?? Literally no one writes for him ??

I’m so ashamed but can you write Caracalla and fem reader who starts her period, how he’d help her through any pain or discomfort? Also disgustingly good period sex to get rid of cramps if this isn’t too weird?

I just started at work and have no products with me so we die like men in Rome, free bleeding 🩸

Blessed if you do, blessed if you don’t 🙏🏼 ty xx

Bleeding free for love

Emperor Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : +18, smut, hurt/comfort, tiny emotional, kissing, body worship, blood play, period sex, family problems

Summary : When the sun was in the sky at midday, it was the aches and pains that afflicted the goddess of Rome, hot and cold baths hardly seemed to help and hardly any food was right. When her husband has a certain idea to take away her pain and they both could get closer to each other.

info : So finally dear i have finished it i wish you a lot of fun reading and hope you have survived your period well. I had a lot of fun writing this everytime again and wish you lots of fun ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blood had many uses for rituals, animal blood for eating, for painting, blood was something that gave life and could take life it was the most valuable thing known to man because without it you died.

One thing the soldiers in the battles knew as soon as they saw the blood of their opponents they had won, the midwives saw the blood of the mother as a life was born and a dead man would bleed as his head was cut off.

A thing that everyone knew, every child, every man and especially every woman who felt the blood on a day of the month followed by pain and upset.

A natural process that could lead to life according to certain doctors or midwives to whom one went to have herbs and tinctures mixed against the pain, but as death would haunt everyone, so would pain haunt every woman of Rome.

A pain that also commanded the empress in a moment of adversity, from the moment she woke up she had felt on the edge of Olympus.

She loved her husband and her brother-in-law but her smile wanted to smile less and less, everything seemed to interfere and nothing worked her mood was completely controlled by the gods a thing that only disturbed her even more.

At breakfast, her appetite didn't seem to be for anything except for a delicious sweet fruit or honey glazed nuts, but nothing else seemed to appeal to her either, ,,I'm sure it won't be anything bad" she had told Caracalla, who was already giving her a worried look, normally the three of them tasted their way through the whole breakfast and were not so reserved.

At midday in the palace garden she was only in the shade, the sun seemed far too strong, although even Geta and Caracalla were in the sun, ,,Just leave me" she had said more cheekily than necessary when they both wanted to pull her to the table for a game and she had retreated with her servant.

But above all, her stomach pains didn't stop, pains that she feared were something worse and she wanted to turn to a healer after the senate meeting...but the answer came to her with a knowing sigh.

She rose from her seat in the senate to help her brother-in-law's argument, knowing that Caracalla was not fully present in his current state when she felt the first drop and she cursed inwardly.

,,I commend myself, something has come up" she only hastily said to Geta and gave Caracalla a brief smile as she tried to get away from the gazing eyes as quickly as possible.

But while Geta tried to reassure the senate that all was well, it was Caracalla in particular who seemed to snap out of it and looked anxiously after his wife.

Gods must you make me bleed now? she asked the saints and at least the answer was only why her abdomen hurt and why her mood was so different, she had bled once more.

A bleeding that made her go straight to the bathhouse where she washed herself because of course it didn't stop at a drop, she sometimes felt as if she were an animal bleeding to death in its last moments.

It stung and pinched so much, no wine or food seemed to help and the water always seemed too cold, ,,Warm it up once more" she ordered her tone again harsher than she wanted and the servants informed the slaves.

The bath water warmed up again after a few minutes and she sighed as the pain disappeared, at least for a moment, as she tried to concentrate on the rose petals and the scent of avender that came through the flowers floating around her.

A scent that at least helped her with a headache did some good, at least the gods were a little merciful to her because the rest of the day she would be bleeding in her room.

Her feelings were as numerous as the gods and she probably didn't take pleasure in anything, just lying in bed perhaps listening to music to distract her from the pain.

Whatever it was she was going to do it was all better than being around people, she had kept the dinner with Caracalla and Geta as short as possible, ,,I will find a way to take away your pain that is my duty as your husband" her heart tried to cheer her up and gave her a quick kiss.

A kiss that actually made her smile for a moment, it seemed that no matter what situation or how much pain she was in Caracalla always found a way to make her smile, one of the things she appreciated so much about him.

He liked to fight with himself, the madness taking him over more and more from time to time but for her he always tried, ,,And I will accept this as your wife" she replied and gave him a kiss too as Geta only had a pleased look for the two of them, glad that his family didn't stop at madness and blood.

After dinner, everyone retired to their rooms to rest, the day had been exhausting enough and she just wanted to try to sleep, a sleep that was not granted to her, but minutes turned into almost hours in which she turned from left to right and knew that as long as she continued to be stabbed in her abdomen, she would find no rest.

Until the moment she heard a knock on her door and smiled, ,,Are the gods not letting you sleep either?" she heard her husband ask and saw that Caracalla had a small tablet with some things on it.

Sitting up in her bed, she tapped the fur next to her, ,,The honourable ones seem to be stabbing me right now," she replied, but immediately saw her husband get a worried look on his face.

In his state, where he was probably at least a little more aware of his surroundings, it was always better than him having a full-blown seizure and hurting someone else.

Setting the tray down on the bed, he scrambled over to her and placed his hand on her stomach, surprisingly gentle for someone who seemed so worried but at least it had a little ,,The warmth of love" he grinned as he saw her features relax and her hand rest on his.

Maybe it really was the bond between man and woman that could help them, that could ease their pain as she saw some sweet treats on the tray.

Treats they fed each other, the sweetness and warmth actually helping a little, ,,My caring emperor" she murmured to him before giving him a kiss.

A short kiss really, but one that made the blue-eyed man want more, his hand sliding from her belly to her side, letting her know he wanted her, ,,The healers said...a touch of body might help with your pain," he said as they parted, the smell of sweetness mingling slightly with the tang of metal.

She felt the slight shame burning on her cheeks, she knew it was supposed to help when they slept together it always seemed to make no difference, an agreement, a bond could do so much

,,But the blood" she already knew the skins and pillows needed to be cleaned even without the sex through her blood, but Caracalla just smirked, ,,Has an attractive effect on me" he just giggled before he kissed her again.

A kiss as they lay gently on the pillows, hands carelessly taking the clothes from each other's bodies, the room seemed too warm, too heated by their love that burned as his hand went to her breast.

The gods gave her the pain but also the sensitivity something that also struck her lover who looked at her almost proudly, ,,Never be ashamed of our union no blood will keep me from you" he assured her and began to kiss her neck.

The little bites and marks turned her on more than usual, her mind plagued by lust that surfaced between the pain whenever she thought of her husband, an emperor who continued to take care of her body.

His fingers skilfully massaged her breasts, teasing her nipples as he lightly pinched them and she shuddered as she groaned, ,,Mhhh gods you've made a pack with him" she giggled as she saw the amusement of Caracalla as he continued to take care of her body.

Every piece of her had to be loved by him, everything she needed he gave her, praised her, kissed her, bit her, licked her everything he just wanted to be with his wife.

His goddess who loved him so much it was the only right thing to do that he helped her through everything in their life together.

Blood was what he liked in the Coloseum arena, and her blood seemed to act like an aphrodisiac on him, making him lose himself in lust and slight madness.

He finally kissed her belly before running his hands along her thighs and pushing them slightly apart, ,,Your emperor will take away any pain...as sweet reddish as a cherry you are" he compared them and the couple both smiled at the sweet but apt comparison.

A comparison as his hand held hers as she saw him caress himself a little and yet she opened her legs, his hungry expression meeting her slightly pleading one.

The feeling as he was inside her not unfamiliar but pleasing the sounds of the couple mingling as he kissed her again the brief moment of time to geen hung between them.

But now their shared love seemed to diminish, with every thrust he made, every movement, every lustful sound that escaped them both, their love for each other only blossomed more.

His hands went from her hips to her body every now and then, giving it further attention, knowing that it made her feel good when the pain was taken over by the pleasure.

,,Don't stop" she only breathlessly brought out, wrapping her legs around his hips to feel him deeper after a few minutes.

The healers were right love could banish pain and how love could banish it, rarely had she felt him so intimately and arousing it was something a look at her husband told her they should both do more often.

Her hands shakily detached themselves from the fur and scratched along his torso, his grunts letting her know he was the one enjoying the pain, something she gave him more of.

His thrusts increasing whenever she pulled at his light-coloured hair, scratching along his skin, his back streaked with red.

The couple gave themselves to each other, savouring everything and the sounds that echoed off the stone walls as if they were looking at each other from afar.

She heard him stammer ,,I love you" almost sensing that he was close to his climax, a tingling sensation in her stomach that she could only answer with a nod as she pulled him even tighter against her.

The moments passed and the movements became more hurried and intense until the stifled cry was lost in the kiss as the couple shuddered and clung to each other as the climax came over them both.

A moment in which the pain and the blood didn't matter, his care didn't matter, they held each other and only separated after a short moment.

He lay down next to her with a slight grin and put his hand on hers, ,,The gods should honour us like this more often" and the couple had to laugh again when she turned to him and held his hand.

But no more pain plagued her as she gave him a kiss on the forehead and now knew that love could conquer even the pain of blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@cottoncandiescupcakes , @somepallings , @k-yurieee , @qardasngan , @sweeteststing , @songbirdmunson , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @bel0ved-heretic

[florathegnarpian]

I know everything bad about the regretevator fandom and that's why I hate it so damn much. there's way more bad than good. (if anyone tells me Flora is a regretevator oc I will punch them in the face)

@four-corners-dude @lampthesillymoth @ceroba-asks (uh oh error my memory won't go any further-)

(screw it what's a fun fact about yourself also @ people I'll go first I'm allergic to myself

@escapetheslaughter

@ugly-astral-taurus

@bees-official

@gremlininthedark

@bloodmoon-da-idiot

@multifandomcutie13 )

[olderthannetfic]

Actually, sorry, nevermind with the pro ship stuff ! Did my research and I'm more informed abt it :) you dont need to post either of the asks I sent abt it (and I'm lowkey scared if coming across as a close minded purist prude whose disillusioned about being by one.)..either way ty!

--

*giggling*

The reality is that any new, viral thing from thirty seconds ago spreads easily on TikTok, most especially misinformation. Instagram is another pretty terrible platform just in terms of algorithms and how it's run. I wouldn't expect the prevailing understanding of such-and-such from within one bubble on either to necessarily be well informed.

The concept of "antis" under that name is pretty new, and the concept of "proshippers" is even newer. It has always meant "not antis". Some people have started mutating it to be about specific dark content, but it was always supposed to be about opposing censorship-happy idiots.

I don't find incestuous ships any freakier than other common fantasies people have. Same with adult/minor ships. You're seeing them in a distinct category because they upset you in particular. The feelings are fine, but they don't actually mean that these kinks are darker than all the other ones antis go after.

I know you think someone will be able to interpret "proshippers DNI" as "only the actually bad people should stay away", but that simply isn't what's going to happen. First, DNIs are moronic. Curating your online space means that you need to be the one blocking and avoiding. You can't ask random strangers, possibly your enemies, to do it for you. Second, people are going to have all kinds of opinions on which content is Bad Enough to count even assuming they share a similar definition of 'proshipper'.

This kind of "Well, we all know what the Bad Stuff is" attitude tends to have a chilling effect on a space. People are all paranoid that their kinks might count and self-censor far beyond what the person who said it expected.

Honestly, aside from the constant misuse of the terms, my assumption is that public proshippers on Instagram and TikTok are mostly into extreme things because anyone less extreme wouldn't have the balls to be public. The amount of death and rape threats from antis wouldn't be worth it.

--

As for my "rules", I don't have any. This is my personal tumblr, but since I leave anon on, people send me lots of things. I post most of them, but I get so many now, that I'll sometimes cut off a topic that has dragged on boringly. I usually don't post the threats I get unless they're funny and I want to mock them.

--

Re teens in fandom, I got into fandom at 13 on Usenet and set about reading all of the freakiest porn available. I read far worse stuff outside of fandom. I was curious, as many people that age are. It never did me any harm, and it won't do any harm to current 13-year-olds to read dark shit.

The people who get fucked up already have a lack of decent mentors in their offline life, are reading things as self harm, are actually being harmed by the social side of fandom where they've found some creep for horny roleplay, are the subject of a public hate campaign, etc. That sucks, but it's not something I can control or that will get better if we exclude them from fandom.

Teens would be better protected by their parents removing TikTok from their phones than by anything to do with fandom. Its short form makes it ideal for poorly fact-checked soundbites that sound good on the surface but discourage critical thinking or nuanced engagement with a topic. Youtube et al. are also cesspits, but TikTok has elevated predatory algorithms and viral misinformation to a whole new level.

Now back to rewatching miniminuteman. Hahaha.

[dollfacefantasy]

how’d you think spanking with frank would go ><

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, spanking, brat taming, subspace a/n: eeee thank you for the frank ask bb, i hope you enjoy <3

you cry out as another harsh smack lands on your backside. the sting reverberates across your ass, already burning from several previous swats just like that one.

a whine trickles from your lips, and you lazily kick your feet up and down. it's not an attempt to fight off frank, just a way of coping with the painful glow you feel developing on your cheeks.

either way, your boyfriend doesn't care. you know the rule. no moving when he has you over his knee. he responds to your disobedience with another two swats, one on each side.

you cry out again at that, bucking your hips atop his thighs and trying to squirm forward. now you are trying to get away. you reach out and claw at the blankets in front of you. frank had sat down at an angle when he started this, allowing you to rest your front half on the mattress, to bury your face against the bed if needed.

the position wasn't meant for you to escape though.

wrapping his hands around your waist, he drags you back and centers you on his lap again.

"such a brat tonight. you must want this bad, sweetheart," he grumbles before delivering another firm lash.

you squeal, toes curling and thighs flexing. "'m not being bad," you whimper. your voice comes out breathy through your shaky pout.

"really? we're lying now too?" he taunts, clapping his hand against the space where your thighs meet your ass, "you know you're supposed to stay still. not make this harder for me."

"i can't help it," you plead, "it hurts too much."

he chuckles at the petulant ring to your words. for a moment, you get a little break. he rubs his hand against your bottom in soothing circles, smoothing it over the aching skin. but it only lasts a second before he brings his palm down harder than before, slapping you so hard tears form in your eyes.

"frank!" you whine, sniffling a little.

"it hurts too much," he echoes your words mockingly, "i know you can take it, babydoll. just like all the other times i've had to deal with your attitude."

"i'm sorry," you whimper. you turn your head to look back at him over your shoulder, giving him a glimpse at your shimmery eyes.

it doesn't soften him up any though. he tuts at you and pats your ass. ordinarily, the touch wouldn't hurt, but with how many times he's hit you, it bites a little.

"crying won't get you out of this, honey. i warned you. told you what would happen if you kept running your mouth," he reminds you.

"i know but-" you start only to watch his hand raise again.

his palm is red by this point. you wonder if it stings a little at the same time your skin does. even if it did, frank would never move to something else. he'd threaten the belt on occasion, but you'd never come close to actually provoking it off his waist. it was always his hand correcting your bratty attitude. never a tool. always skin on skin.

a few hot tears stream down your cheeks as he pops you this time. you let out a tiny sob and drop your head forward again.

"i don't want excuses. you take what i'm giving you," he says.

in contrast to his words, his touch eases up a bit. his palm runs up and down your spine, sliding under the hem of your shirt that's bunched around your waist. the thumb on his other hand ducks between your thighs and rubs up and down your center over your panties. the digit slots between your puffy folds. it glides across your clothed entrance, flattening out to massage your slit.

he hasn't even neared your clit yet, and you're already melting. your breathing is still rough, but your sobs have quieted. that light pressure against your pussy is all it takes to reduce you to a puddle. you're not sure why, what part of your brain reacts so strongly to the first sign of tenderness after all the spanks, but it's out of your control.

you lower your head onto the bed, cheek squishing against the cool sheets. one of your hands stays on his knees, loosely attached to the rough denim.

"there you go. take a deep breath," he murmurs.

the tip of his thumb ventures south and circles that throbbing bud. it swirls in tight rotation, teasing its arrival. when it does finally press on your button, you mewl and a shudder courses through your body.

he wiggles the fingertip back and forth, stroking your clit just how you like. your fingers flex against his joint while you smoosh your face into the bed.

"for someone having such a hard time, you're pretty wet," he says, "almost soaking through your underwear onto my leg."

"it still hurts..." you defend weakly.

he huffs out a small laugh. he can tell your head is drifting to that sticky, sweet space where thoughts come second to feeling good. your words sound slightly garbled. your hips lightly rock up and down into his touch.

"yeah, and you like how it hurts, so no complaining next time," he says.

he stops playing with you for a second to flip you over. you whine at first, but settle down the second he gets you cradled to his chest. his hand slips right back into your panties, this time at an angle to rub you more strategically. you whimper, letting your mind empty out again. every little flick to that nub between your legs drains another thought from your head.

frank holds no delusions that this will be the last time you act up to the point of a spanking, but that's because neither of you want it to be. you'd never get tired of ending the night limp and dazed in his lap, and he'd never stop wanting to get you like that.

he didn't mind dealing with his little brat's tantrums when she looked so precious in the end.