#people are hell and the only thing worth living for

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Truly the worst Vaugardian plays are the ones where nothing happens, as the characters spend the whole 2 hours sitting about as they talk at each other, all while the audience hasn't the slightest doubt they can be nowhere but hell.

But while hell is definitely other people...in your experience, a hell you're suck in alone, left the only wise one surrounded by fools, is not a better hell. Not better at all.

---------

Loop's wish has different wording, and this makes a few things a little different. Mostly it means the Researcher of the group is now looping, while Stardust remains blissfully ignorant. This is certainly the main difference noticed by Loop, who looks at the evidence before then before assuming they're to play stagehand to the Researcher solving of the mystery in record time.

But roles are tricky. Very nearly tricky as wishes.

Sponsor, stagehand, lead actor, audience, critic, fool, traveler, ex-scissor wizard turned star - how absurd for a human to contort themselves to fit a single 'role'! How cruel to for a person to find that no role left they can Change themselves enough to fit!

Ah, but there's no time to wallowing, not when you've one more wish to make - one more desperate GRAB at hope for the play ending, now the greatest ever cosmic joke has been replaced by a smarter actor then you could become even after a million loops.

One, two, THREE - breath in…and out, take a bow to the audience and ready yourself.

The show has once again begun ~ !

[genderqueerdykes]

I do apologise if this a weird ask and fairly jumbled but you're the only blog I'm not terrified to ask.

How to not be scared of people is my ask.

I've passed for a while as male and really the second I did then everyone left me. A few stayed longer to convince me against it but they left to. Even the queer club I went to stopped letting me in. i have not had friends or anyone close for a few years now. I don't remember my last interaction that wasnt a stranger.

I don't know how to change it, my last interactions were around them hating me being a man. So I just don't know how to not expect that at this point. I'm just scared of everyone, being online has probably made that worse. Every video or post will have the punchline of hating men or trans people. It's It's normal and that makes me so scared to ever even try talking to another person again. You don't have to answer this of course but you're the only person who has made me feel worth something, that I'm not automatically a monster because of something I can't control. So I figured to try to ask. If not then that's okay, I do really appreciate you posting.

the queer club you were going to stop letting you in???

this is seriously out of control. i can't believe how many people this is happening to in real time. this isn't an issue that just exists on the internet. the man hating, antimasculism and transandrophobia that's present online is affecting the real world. this isn't small potatoes, this is a massive problem that's excluding and hurting and abusing people in real time. i'm so sorry to hear that holy fuck

I'm just scared of everyone, being online has probably made that worse. Every video or post will have the punchline of hating men or trans people. It's It's normal and that makes me so scared to ever even try talking to another person again.

a lot of trans men are expressing this sentiment right now. even im wary of who i interact with because i have no idea if they're going to freak out when i they find out i'm a trans man. it only feels like a matter of time some days. it's ridiculous. i lived with trans punks and they all ridiculed me for being transmasculine. rad feminist ideals have become the norm in the queer community as of 2024 & 2025. the people running these spaces are radfems. this needs to come to an end.

no matter what you think, man hating, antimasculism & transandrophobia are perpetuated the most by radfems. doesn't matter what kinds of radfems, trans or cis. this behavior comes from lesbian separatism. it comes from political lesbianism. it comes from disenfranchised trans women who hate being misgendered and take that out on trans men. this is the norm right now. it's not okay.

i hope things get better for you soon. i have no idea how we've let things get this bad but it's not okay. we can't keep doing this. so many trans men feel like you do where they just don't wanna interact with the queer community at all because of this. and honestly i feel it. i feel so disconnected from so many people who think it's cool and progressive and funny and based to hate men and mascs like we've all hurt them personally. it's hostile as hell

[otp-armada]

It’s totally fanfiction-y of me, but I have fantasized about someone reaching out to Bellamy after Clarke injected herself with nightblood, and it sending him into such a spiral that he speeds his way to Becca’s mansion. He finds her recuperating and explodes with worry and anger, demanding to know why she’s always stubbornly risking her life.

To rein in his feelings from a (supposedly) aborted love confession to blowing the lid clean off the compartment tamping them down, because he just can’t risk losing her, and the heat of the moment being what finally gets them both to confess?? And that leading to a nail-biter finale where Bellamy chooses not to listen to Clarke, staying with her instead???

Ohhh I think it’d have ATE. Maybe I just wanted the writers to make excellent use out of that gorgeous shower and bed 🤭

I don’t think it’s outside the realm of reason if the botched tent scene had similar circumstance. Clarke was gearing herself up to head into the lion’s den less than a day after he saved her from Josephine on a gambit that she could impersonate the latter to her parents, and if she failed, she’d be as good as dead. I can imagine the exhaustion on his wearied soul.

I think seasons 5 and 6 have such a tremendous effect on Bellamy, as his head is continuously clashing with his heart. Clarke vs Echo. Big brother vs his independence. Responsible leadership vs tearing himself apart to make his fragmented family happy and unified.

Something I take from his storyline in Season 6 is how it balances his head and heart in harmony. He’s offered an opportunity to ensure the survival of his people in hostile land with all the amenities they require, and all it would take is to do nothing as Josephine plots to delete Clarke’s code from the chip.

There’s an ethical question posed by the narrative about whether Earthkru deserves to survive if they’re willing to begin again on the blood of their own, particularly as they are refugees who fled Earth because their machinations wrecked the planet a second time.

But there’s a personal dilemma for Bellamy, too. If this is a game of numbers, one can argue that protecting the lives of the many outweigh the life of one.

Except it’s not a dilemma at all for him. Clarke’s alive, he’s getting her back, it’s a done deal. He must know that Clarke would be the first to martyr herself. He’s witnessed it firsthand, her penchant for sacrificing herself for others. I love that he draws the line by saying no. Screw rationalizing. He’s not losing Clarke any more than he’s willing to let Clarke voluntarily offer her life.

To me, this decision is the coda to 5x13 wherein Bellamy invokes Monty’s spirit and honors his wishes. Because Monty understood that survival is a hollow endeavor if you lose everything that gives life its worth.

Heart!Bellamy works in tandem with Head!Bellamy, as he makes his plans to get everyone out of Sanctum and leverage the chip to get their compound. Sure, his best laid plans all go to hell immediately, but the important thing is, he tried his best, y’know?

Ohhh the radio calls. The radio calls.

The radio calls are 2,199 testimonials that Clarke made Bellamy a consistent part of her daily life when he was a world removed from her. “They kept me sane,” when giving up was probably more conducive to preserving her sanity. She persisted in sharing her life with him as she could, undeterred by his physical absence. She expected nothing from those calls, not even an answer. It was simply vital she stay connected to him, immaterial that it was futile.

We only get hints of how difficult those six years were for Clarke after she found Madi. But if we try to fill the gaps…

Clarke and Madi are alone on a planet recovering from a global cataclysm. A calamity affecting the environment, the ecosystems, plant life, wildlife, severely limited resources, food shortages, etc. Infinite issues to be navigated by two people with finite compendiums of knowledge to navigate this bizarre new world.

Clarke is solely responsible for raising a little orphaned girl, previously sheltered from her village by her late parents. Madi lived amongst the bodies of her village for months at 6 years old. Her traumas are for Clarke to manage, a girl barely an adult herself with three lifetimes’ worth of her own ghosts to contend with. Because Clarke is the adult in this duo, there’s only so much she can share with Madi. Only so much emotional heft she can burden Madi with. And I can imagine that after the euphoria of finding another person to keep her company settles, Clarke realizes that she, Wanheda, conditioned by her life’s experiences to see herself as a bringer of death, is tasked with keeping this child alive.

It’s a lot for one person to deal with. I would bet that for every challenge and danger and haunted day in general, she picked up that radio to confess all to Bellamy. Asking for his guidance, his strength…

We could see that Clarke and Madi had good days, too. Fireside chats. Fishing. Portraits. Bedtime stories of heroes and villains. Winter frost giving way to spring berries. Bickering. Calm days filled with joyful laughter.

And I bet she told Bellamy all about those moments, too. Via the radio calls, she included him as the third member of their little family.

Clarke survived because she leaned on two people—-Madi AND Bellamy. And it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that when he asked her how she managed alone.

it's still so fascinating to me that bellarke was supposed to happen in 6x10/6x11, bob was informed of this, but then he received the script and it didn't happen. that's just so sketch. truly what was going on behind the scenes. it's just so WEIRD the more you think about it. also makes me wonder if that was the first time that had happened. i mean, we already know that there were changes to the 1x08 script to get rid of the line where bellamy asks clarke to run away with him, so i don't think it's that far outside the realm of possibility to think that there were other romantic lines/scenes that were cut throughout the series. i honestly think every season they probably toyed with the idea of them happening, wrote a first kiss or a confession or maybe an almost kiss, decided against it and thought hey actually let's push this to next season, drag it out a little longer.

[hawkins-batman]

Thank you for highlighting the frightening mob cruelty, antisemitism, and homophobia aimed at Noah Schnapp. So many fans of ST are sure that if they had lived in a small rural town in 1983 they'd have totally been cool with a gay kid, and that they would not have believed D&D and heavy metal were Satanic. They are sure they would have been the good guys, the tolerators, the "different kids." They are wrong. They are the bullies, the cliques, the superstitious goobers. They are the villains - of real life.

I agree with all of this, but I just want to add for any Noah haters who might end up reading this... Social justice theory and practice are two different things. You can post all you want about genocide and oppression and capitalism and apartheid—all of that. Your posts are MEANINGLESS if you turn around, single out a gay Jewish person, and lash out with slurs, death threats, sexual assault threats, doxxing, and more.

It doesn't matter that Noah Schnapp is a celebrity worth an estimated $3 million. That doesn't negate who he is. He is still young, gay, and Jewish; and resorting to violent bigotry and mob bullying as your knee-jerk reaction to him doing something you dislike or disagree with makes any other words that come out of your mouth or off your keyboard completely and utterly vapid and worthless—especially when it comes to matters of bigotry and oppression.

Moreover, you damage the communities you claim to care about when you do this. Non-celebrity gay and Jewish people see the words you say and your behavior and they are made to feel unsafe by it. How many LGBTQIA+ teenagers saw you call him a "fag" or make jokes about him getting passed around by older men? Or making up fake articles about him getting MPox? How many Jewish people saw you say "if only he hadn't been raised in a Jewish household, he would still be a good person"? "But we have a right to criticize him! People have a right to be angry!" You have a right to critique anyone you want. Calling someone a "fag" isn't criticizing them, though. Calling someone an "evil twink" isn't criticizing them. Saying you're going to "beat the hell" out of someone isn't criticizing them. Saying you "hope [they] get[s] dragged into an alley and raped" (yes, I saw someone say this about Noah on the bird app and was too sick to my stomach to screen cap it) isn't criticizing them.

More importantly? You have an OBLIGATION to call out people doing this. Even if you don't like Noah. Any Left-leaning person worth the breath they breathe would be repulsed by people behaving like this — but ya'll are either taking part in it or sitting back and cackling while others do it.

And that's why more and more people are calling you out and refusing to associate with you.

You're fake. You're bigots. You're cowards. And you've spent the last (almost) two years showing your asses. Now, the crows are coming home to roost.

[coraniaid]

I know it's never going to happen, but it sure would be nice if people in the Buffy fandom could shut about how much they hate Kennedy. We get it, you're boring and predictable and have poor taste. But why not just ... keep it to yourself? Why assume everybody scrolling the tags wants to read your bad takes?

You don't even have anything original to say.

"Oh, but the writers rushed Willow into a new relationship too soon; Willow would never--"

I'm sorry, but are we talking about Willow Rosenberg, the girl who tried to encourage Buffy back into "date mode" because "love is nice" not only weeks after Buffy's ex-boyfriend had lost his soul, but while he was still actively terrorizing her and trying to kill her friends? The girl who tried to set Buffy up with a new boyfriend, because "you're ready now", just days after Buffy got back from months spent hiding out alone in a strange city while grieving over having to send that same ex-boyfriend to hell to save the world? Who -- after said ex came back from hell and then broke up with her -- then pushed her to try to date the first person who seemed interested in her in college, no matter how reluctant Buffy told her she was and how little either of them knew about him? That's the Willow we're talking about? That's the girl you think wouldn't rush into a new relationship?

Willow has always invested a huge amount of her self-worth in being worthy of love and being able to be loved by others, and she's always assumed that everyone else does the same. That's who she is. We're talking about the girl who ran off to cry when she realized the friend she'd been crushing on for years was dating somebody she didn't like because "it means you'd rather be with somebody you hate than be with me". The girl who only finally got over said crush when she started dating somebody new. Who was so upset when he left her too, years later, that she attracted the attention of a vengeance demon who told her she had "pain that pierces dimensional walls"; and who only really got over that when she met Tara. Who later describes her relationship with Tara as "the only thing" she had going for her. All the way back in Season 1, the first episode that ever focused on Willow was about her attracting the romantic attention of a demon obsessed with wanting its followers to love and worship it. Wanting to be loved is, arguably, the most consistent character trait Willow has ever had.

And look: Willow tortured and killed the man who murdered Tara; she came close to ending the world rather than living in it without her; when she comes back to Sunnydale months later, still mourning, she makes a point of visiting Tara's grave. She's twenty-one years old. It's not moving too fast for her to want to be part of a relationship again; it's the only way somebody like Willow can really stop being unhappy and find some measure of peace and emotional stability. Do you really want Willow to end the show miserable and single and mourning? Do you think that shows more respect towards Tara?

"Oh, but Kennedy is so different from Tara, surely Willow would never--"

We don't know what Willow's type is! Before Season 7, Tara is the only woman we ever see Willow show the slightest bit of interest in! And, again, Willow is twenty one years old. She met Tara when they were both teenagers. Are you still exclusively interested in the type of person you were attracted to when you were a teenager?

Tara is different enough from Oz, who was different enough from Xander, that I think it's safe to guess that Willow's romantic taste is broader than you might think. And the one thing that Kennedy does have in common with Tara (and with Oz before her) is that she is very, very obviously into Willow as soon as they meet. That's what we know about Willow's type: she falls for people who are, on sight, transfixed by Willow.

"Oh, but Kennedy treats Buffy so disrepectfully, she--"

Wow. A teenage girl not showing proper reverence to an older, more experienced person who -- without consulting her about it -- positions themselves as some sort of unelected authority figure? Oh, yes, I can see why fans of Buffy the Vampire Slayer would hate somebody like that. That's nothing like anybody we've seen on the show before.

Why should Kennedy like Buffy? Why should she respect her? She doesn't know her! Anything she's heard about Buffy Summers before Season 7 she'd have heard from the Watchers, who have no reason to be honest or favorable about her. When she gets to Sunnydale she gets to live in Buffy's crowded, cramped house, and train in her garden all day, and listen to speeches by somebody who tells her she's probably going to die soon and will probably deserve it. Somebody who doesn't make any effort to get to know her or bond with her as a person. Somebody who mocks girls like her for being driven to suicide (girls who are, in Buffy's words, "weak" and "idiots"), who sleeps with vampires and is friends with demons and comes up with plans that get the other Potentials -- Kennedy's friends, girls Kennedy herself feels responsible for (just like Buffy would if their positions were reversed!) -- seriously hurt or even killed. What does Buffy ever do to earn Kennedy's respect?

Don't get me wrong, most of Buffy's friends treat her pretty terribly this season [this is not a comment about Buffy's friends as much as it is about the quality of the writing this season]. But while Dawn or Willow or Xander helping to kick Buffy out of her own house is appalling and ungrateful and out of character, when Kennedy does it it makes sense. Buffy hasn't ever treated Kennedy as a friend, so why would she magically become one?

"Oh, but Kennedy is so rich and entitled and bossy, she--"

You're a hypothetical Buffy fan on Tumblr. I know if I look I will find posts talking about how much you like Season 1 Cordelia Chase. I'm just saying that maybe this isn't a route you want to go down.

"Oh, but Kennedy's just in the season too much, I wanted more focus on the original--"

This season does try to juggle too many characters, and it would be better if it spent more time examining Buffy's relationship with Willow and Xander and Giles. But the way you achieve that is by downplaying Andrew Wells (a lot), cutting out a lot of the more forgettable Potentials, entirely getting rid of Caleb [the actual worst Buffy character, for the record] and throwing out the awful time-wasting subplots around Spike's hypnotic trigger and the non-mystery of Giles obviously not being the First. It's not by reducing the amount of screen time Kennedy or Robin Wood get, because they are the new characters this season should actually be about.

"Oh, but-"

No, enough. I'm sick of it.

[blazehedgehog]

What the hell is going on with Elon Musk and X? Seems like everyone is having a meltdown these days.

Well, he (allegedly) gutted the company, set fire to the moderation team, and has generally spent the last two years very publicly buddying up to conspiracy theorists and right wing extremists (allegedly). Every feature change made in recent memory either (allegedly) benefits them or helps him cover up the many (many, many) moments where he (allegedly) embarrasses himself.

He campaigned to "get rid of Twitter's bot problem", an (allegedly) deliberate and clear lie given twitter is (allegedly) full of more bots now than ever before, and bad actors have (allegedly) been given all the tools to signal boost misinformation to a widespread and staggering degree.

His only goal in purchasing Twitter was to (allegedly) exert his control on one of the world's largest social media platforms and all he's done is drive people away. Nothing about it has ever been subtle.

To the point where I'm deeply suspicious you'd even ask -- it's so clear and obvious what people don't like about Twitter now that it's hard to believe anyone would even need to ask this question. But, also, for all I know, maybe you live outside of America, maybe you aren't super connected to this side of American pop culture, etc. etc. etc. I try to take everything in good faith, but from my perspective, it's weird you'd have to ask.

Because it's bad. It's obviously and clearly bad. And nobody halfway intelligent wants it.

Like, I crosspost between twitter and bluesky sometimes, and on bluesky I'll get 30+ likes and 15+ reposts and on twitter I'll be lucky to get one like nowadays.

Twitter has become a ghost town and its because Elon Musk (allegedly) turned it in to a haven for liars, grifters, scammers, and fascists. He (allegedly) thought it would be his political weapon and all it did was scare most sane people away. Even the grifters, scammers and fascists don't want to be there anymore, given how many of them are registering Bluesky accounts these days (and then getting shouted off the platform, in some cases).

It's worth mentioning that Musk is (allegedly) now shifting his attention towards buying Wikipedia, because, again, this guy (allegedly) thinks that being rich gives him the right to control information (and eventually rewrite history) as a political weapon.

That's probably not a good thing.

[chronicparagon]

“Hey, Adelheid? Are you awake?” Harmony asks as she walks into the stable. "I couldn't sleep and I wanted to check on you." She adds as one hand rubs the corner of her eye as the other holds a lantern. Though weary, the woman struggles to sleep with so much on her mind. Besides, she isn't comfortable leaving her friend alone. The shades freeze in place as they hear a voice but they have no time to melt into the dark before a lantern's light catches them. That is when Harmony notices that the mare is not alone.

"Whoa! Shades! SHADES!" The sight of the dark creatures jostle her from the remnants of sleep. "SHADES! WE GOT SHADES HERE!" She shouts before jumping into Adelheid's stall. Though she is not well-versed in dark magic, she knows what shades are.

Creatures created from shadows and blood of the sacrificed, a forbidden craft that only powerful and sinister sorcerers can achieve. They are sentient but only have one purpose: To do their master's dark bidding and from the looks of it: They came from Adelheid!

That can only mean one thing-

Someone knows what she actually is! Whoever made these thralls saw through Adelheid's cover and they want her without doing the dirty work themselves. Like hell she's going to let them take her away to whoever sent them here! Lithe fingers turn the knob of her lantern, intensifying its glow.

"Back! Back off!" Harmony snaps as she waves the lantern before the creatures. The shades hiss in pain from the light and withdraw from the dark corners of the stall. They lash out towards Harmony, their maws snapping, but their fangs fail to catch her due to the light burning their cursed flesh. Serpentine bodies meld together in their tiny sanctuary. Harmony draws her dagger from its sheath. It's not ideal, preferring her sword, but then again, she didn't think demonic creatures would be hunting her friend!

One shade snarls as they slither around, striking at Harmony from behind. She turns on her heel and swings her dagger. The blade dives into its head, earning a pained cry. She shoves the lantern against it and the creature releases a blood-curdling screech. Their arms swing and Harmony backs away before its claws can slash through her. Dark blood pours from the stab wound, blinding the shade. The drops fall onto the ground, leaving burns there as the smell of sulfur fills the air. The first shade writhes on the ground as the light burns its head to nothing but ashes. The long body lays there, motionless until it becomes liquid, leaving behind a horribly, black, oily substance. The other two shades leap after Harmony, determined to kill her and capture the unicorn. Their lives depended on it!

"Get away from her! Get away!" Harmony shouts as she swings the light at the surviving demons. Distant calls from other people grow as they hear Harmony's warning. Soon, footsteps close in on Adelheid's stall with torches and weapons in tow. Shades are no laughing matter, even if they are low-level creatures. They are weak compared to other dark creatures that lurk in this very world.

However, time is growing short as Harmony fends off the remaining intruders. The guards may not be able to come to her aid on time for the lantern's light slowly dims, granting them greater reach for her. It seems that shades are very weak to light. But is using magic worth the risk?

The white horse stood still, attentively listening to her new companion. She recognized that the experience was somewhat overwhelming; perhaps they should have chosen a smaller destination, such as a village or a secluded farm in the land, before arriving at this bustling metropolis filled with countless buildings and people. The sheer number of individuals was daunting for someone like her, and she realized she needed time to acclimate.

As she nodded slowly in response to her friend's encouragement, she felt grateful for the support. The city was indeed intimidating, far beyond her expectations. She contemplated that perhaps their next outing should be to a quieter location, away from the government hub, until she became accustomed to being around so many humans. For now, she decided to focus on enjoying her meal and the company of her friend.

When night fell and it was time to rest, she observed her friend departing for the tavern. Unlike her companion, she did not have the luxury of such accommodations; her place was in the stable. As she was led to her stall, she found it surprisingly comfortable, with golden straw and clean floors that resembled a cozy bedroom. She settled in, taking a few bites of hay, and noticed several other horses nearby. A warm blanket was securely fastened around her, providing comfort despite the mildness of the night. She felt a deep appreciation for her friend, who had thoughtfully gathered supplies for her, and she vowed to repay this kindness many times over.

She would prepare for the night in the stall, pacing until she found a comfortable position to lie down. With her head resting, wrapped in a purple blanket, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep. As the hours passed, she remained unaware of the dark figures that had infiltrated the stables, searching for something—or rather, someone. 

They had a specific purpose and were determined not to leave empty-handed. Their target was not just any horse; it had to be the white one, the one they believed their master desired, a creature whose worth exceeded her weight in gold.

Though she attempted to sleep, her ears twitched at the sound of hay crunching, indicating the presence of someone in the stables. Initially, she assumed it was a servant or a worker from the tavern conducting their nightly checks to ensure everything was in order. After all, the horses of the heroes and merchants were vital to their trade, and any harm that befell them would reflect poorly on the tavern. Dismissing the noise, she settled back into a slumber, her tail flicking occasionally as she sensed a presence nearby. 

When she opened her eyes, she found the dark figures surrounding her, watching intently.

Was this a dream or a nightmare? She could not tell, but one thing was certain: she would only communicate with her friend and no one else. To everyone else, she was merely a white horse, and she would not disclose her magical nature. Unable to speak, she remained silent, hoping to navigate the situation carefully and avoid revealing anything. Perhaps they were simply observing her or had mistakenly entered the wrong stall. For the moment, she lowered her head again and feigned sleep.

[professionaljester]

love my bad mental health, love being suicidal all the time

[punk-sharkz-zero]

i hope every person who makes fun of food allergies has a warm pillow on both sides and has wet socks forever and ever. I hope they have a paper cut and then get lemon juice on it.

[melrosing]

latest in the diabolical dad with cancer journey: turns out he has an oddly positive mutation of the thing and so is significantly more compatible with treatment. hello god????

[5unrider]

jaysi as a character is just so …

the perpetual masking and suppressing that he has to do on a daily basis in order to be accepted in any capacity. the way that he, as someone who is disabled and whose disability is very clear and impossible for others to 'avoid' or 'forget about' (and subsequently he is less palatable for the vast majority of people), has to constantly put up with the disgust of strangers and peers alike, and if not disgust, then pity. he will always be treated either as a freak, or as someone (something) to be babied and coddled and taken care of, someone (something) that is fragile and will break.

like. kassan brought jaysi to the jedi order - after he had found out about his force sensitivity - as a means of keeping him safe from the horrors of balmorra, the same horrors that had already done irreparable damage to him. and it worked, for a time, and jaysi was safer, and he was determined to prove himself as a jedi, to use this power he's been given to help people and to do good … but he finds out quickly that the jedi are far less accepting of him than the people back home. on balmorra, on his home world, he wasn't considered some disfigured freak of nature, he wasn't just his disability; there were so many other people like him, people who knew and understood what living like that was like, what surviving was like, and there's never been any avoiding the sympathy or pity, but it was different from them. with the jedi … the younglings and the padawans are just children, cruel and lacking understanding, incapable of hiding their revulsion and aversion towards him - and the knights and the masters seem to grieve him while he's still alive, and there are an extreme few who would even consider taking on an apprentice as damaged and incapable as him, and he has heard, more than once, that he was only taken as a pity case, a boy with no more hope of being a jedi than one lacking in the force.

and he just … he can't be weak. he can't let it hurt him, and he can't be brought down by it, because letting the words and looks and feelings of every single person around him wound him and rot him will just prove them right. jaysi is smart, and he's clever, and he's cunning, and he's quick - the force thrums hot and wild in his veins, static-shock dancing between his fingers and around his heart; a storm barely contained, young and hungry and desperate: he knows what his strengths are, he knows how useful he can be, the good that he can do (even if no one else knows it), and he can't let himself be reduced to the jedi's charity case. so he fights, and he trains, and he pushes himself when he probably shouldn't, and he tries and tries and tries to be good.

but at the same time. it does suck. being disabled and having chronic pain and a number of other illnesses sucks. and it's awful, and some days are agonizing and terrible and he wishes he was dead, or that he was 'normal', and he's not wrong for that, but he also feels like he can't feel that way. jaysi accepts himself and his situation, knows there isn't any changing it and he can be strong and talented despite his shortcomings and what he has been through, but gods above, living is difficult and he gets so frustrated and angry and he has no idea what to do with either of those things. the fact that everyone around him is perpetually walking on eggshells around him only makes things worse - a constant reminder of what's wrong with him, that he can't do anything on his own because he'll hurt himself or he'll mess it up or something.

it's all about the agony of being physically and mentally disabled, and knowing you are different and there is something 'wrong' with you and you will never know what it's like to be 'normal', and everyone around you always reminding you of that, whether they mean to or not, and the never ending frustration of never just being seeing as a person and not as your disability / disabilities -

[rockandrolldisgrace]

sometimes lifes is cruel to you for no fucking greater meaning but u still have to go through it and just endure

[milkandraspberry]

[lxvvie]

Couples shit with Simon Riley, Newlywed Edition:

You and Simon got married, and Price was the Best Man. Kyle stood on your side, and Soap was the flower girl. He blew bubbles instead of throwing flower petals because you and Soap thought it would be funnier. There's a picture floating around somewhere of Simon staring rather concerningly at a particularly large bubble Soap blew, too.

You two swearing you're gonna fuck all night long on your wedding night... only to crash as soon as you hit the bed. You didn't even take your clothes off. The sexathon came later. You two just woke up, looked at each other, happy as a pair of clams, and bloody hell, you made an honest man out of Simon fuckin' Riley.

Getting each other gag gifts as a wedding present. You were serious about getting him that cockring weren't you, love? Well, he has all the time in the world to make use of it.❤️

Noticing how relaxed and settled Simon is after you two start your married lives. Well, as relaxed and settled as Simon could be, all things considered, but he's not as anxious. He's... content. Happy.

Simon still can't believe it though. He's married. He's bloody married. You married him. A right bastard like him, at that. Simon makes a promise to himself and you to never turn what you two have into the shit show that defined his parents' union, promises to never become the asshole his father was, and it gives him all the strength he needs to combat his demons. He'll fight them every day if means seeing your smiling face, luv.

Simon also using the fact that he's married for shock value for everyone other than 141. He doesn't really tell the others but also doesn't bother addressing the news when it gets out. He just lets it be. It's amusing, though, seeing the confusion and shock on the other soldiers' faces when they find out. "Wait, Lieutenant Riley's married? He has a missus?" Correction: "I'm the missus."

He also jokes with the rest of 141 on some, "Sorry, lads, 'm an honest bloke now," which makes the others snort. Will also use a variant for you, too. "No can do, lovie, you made an honest missus outta me." Pfft.

You've also taken to calling him the Hubster ("Pretty cute, eh, Si-bear?" ".........") and you're banned from saying it in public lmao.

Similarly, you use the shock value to troll your associates. Your coworkers were not expecting Simon of all people to be the one you married. You call HIM the Missus? ("Sure do.") The way they see it, you two are polar opposites. Well, they do say that opposites attract.

Simon buying a chain for his wedding band for when he deploys because even with the gloves on, he refuses to wear his ring near his gun. It's a symbol of you, one of the best fuckin' things to ever happen to him, and he'll be damned if he ever lets the two touch.

You jokingly suggest that because Simon has really taken to the missus thing and ran with it, he should get it tattooed on him. This being Simon bloody Riley, he goes and does exactly that. The shock on your face was worth it all. Cheers, darling.

You two holding hands if only to look at your wedding bands side by side and bloody fuckin' hell, you're falling in love with each other all over again.

[feyriejane]

if they don't feel like they're blessed to even get a moment of my attention, I don't want it

[dabisqueen]

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh. 

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened? 

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 

Shit. 

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 

Speaking of bulge. 

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 

“In front of all these people?!" 

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.” 

“Camera Speed.” 

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation. 

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 

raising your hips to have more access to you. 

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps. 

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”