#— it's a rich woman's world ( INTERACTIONS. )

[luvcaleb]

EYES ON ME.

nsfw (18+). i really did not mean for this to be a whole fic but i just kept typing. and typing. and typing... anyway, here are the usual cws: blowjob, cunnilingulus, corruption kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, marathon sex (sylus is starved), more yearning than you'd expect from a sugar daddy fic, and side note that sylus is older than you here (you decide how much lol). likes and reblogs will be very appreciated!

pov: you're a barista at the cafe sylus usually orders at and he overhears you saying you want to try being a sugar baby to make more money.

sylus generally avoids interacting with ordinary citizens. for one, they live in a separate world from him, and two, he'd rather not drag other people into unnecessary trouble.

you are no exception to this rule he placed upon himself. or at least, you should be.

but he can't help being drawn to your sunny smile, undeterred despite his intimidating appearance. he can't help but relax his shoulders when you greet him “welcome!” in a warm, gentle voice. he can't help but ask you how your day went, listen to your complaints, and chuckle fondly when you say something particularly funny.

and he can't help but notice how your sunny smile has diminished the past few weeks, weighed down by late nights and endless work juggling several part-time jobs to get by and pay the debt your father left behind.

so when he overhears you saying you want to try having a sugar daddy, he moves against his better judgment.

it's not hard to track you down in a shady site. even easier to lure you with an enticing price, better than any old, rich fool can offer.

and really, sylus doesn't plan on doing anything to you. this is somewhat like a donation, he convinces himself. that's all there is to it. he's not being possessive.

he pays you for your time. feels amused seeing you sit beside him with an almost visible question mark on your face, not knowing what to do. sure, you have a general idea what sugar babies do, but it was probably not simply watching an old romance movie while snacking on finger foods.

you think it must be some sort of foreplay, but he drives you home. the next time he calls you over, you eat together in a who-knows-how-many-stars restaurant in a tall skyscraper overlooking the city, which ends in a similar fashion. in the next, he takes you shopping and fills your closet with luxury brands, yet again ending the day with a drive to your shabby apartment.

and it's nice. it's really nice. to the point it's too good to be true. from the very beginning when you learned your client wasn't going to be an old geezer, you already thought you lucked out. but with sylus practically treating you as his girlfriend, leaving nothing to be desired, things couldn't be better. you can't even consider the possibility of being sylus's side chick that he's cheating with because there's nothing for him to gain from this arrangement. if you really think about it, sylus is basically throwing you all his money.

you think you can leave things like this. after all, you have nothing to complain about.

but on one of your gigs taking up a friend's waitress shift at a fancy restaurant, you see sylus with a woman.

they're both well-dressed. sylus always is, but now even more so with his styled hair and clean, crisp suit. the woman looks gorgeous in her champagne dress, all smooth silk and beautiful curves. the men around her can't help but stare.

he leads her to a table. pulls out her chair for her. smirks at her as they exchange friendly banter, looking like the picture-perfect couple.

a cold settles deep in your chest, even if you have no right to feel bad. you don't have the right to feel upset because it isn't like you're bound by any serious relationship.

but for the rest of the night, you try to avoid their table. you hope he hasn't taken notice of you, but that's probably wishful thinking considering you've felt an intense gaze on your back all this while.

eventually, they leave, and so do you. as you walk home, you try to dissect why you felt so awful. is it because he might cut you off now that he's interested in another woman? it must be. once he breaks off whatever you have, you're going to have a hard time finding someone else to mooch off of. you'll be back to the same old dreary lifestyle; the magic has worn off, and cinderella has to be miserable again.

but it isn't just that, even if it should be. you shouldn't feel so shitty seeing him with another girl if you only saw him as a client. somewhere along the line, you've started appreciating his quiet smiles, his teasing smirk, his kind gaze. there's something soft about his innocent touches, tucking your hair behind your ear or his thumb wiping away cake frosting on your cheek.

and you hate the idea of him doing all of that to that woman he was with.

“you should pay more attention to your surroundings, sweetheart.”

sylus interrupts your thoughts. you turn to look at the street beside you where you find sylus leaning against his car. waiting.

you hesitate only for a moment. you get in, and he drives you home. the silence is unsettlingly tense, so different from the comfortable quiet you've grown used to in your past drives.

eventually, you bring yourself to speak. “let's go to your house.”

sylus says, “i haven't asked for your services tonight.” it's soft, teasing, and most importantly, it's not a no.

the familiar manor comes into view, grand and imposing as always. he opens the car door for you. asks to carry your bag. unlocks the front door.

he drops it when you push him down the plush sofa, catching him by surprise. you've never quite seen him as stunned as he is now, stock still as you press your mouth against his. clumsy. unsure. yet eager. his fingers tangle in your hair, unmoving for just a moment, but soon he manages to tear himself away.

“i didn't ask for you to do this.”

he hasn't. he probably never intended to do this sort of thing in the first place.

but it isn't like he doesn't want to. his voice is strained. he's still holding you, as if afraid you'll pull away once you realize this is a bad idea. he's staring at you like you're the only thing that matters.

and you realize that you enjoy this attention. you like having his hands around you. you like him doting on you. you like him looking at you.

you don't want him to look at anyone else.

and, you come to realize, you want this just as much as he does.

---

there's a sense of clumsiness when you wrap your hands around his cock, hesitant and unpracticed. you seem as if you've never done this before. sylus should not be as thrilled as he feels at this discovery.

perhaps he should be a little turned off. but his dick feels the hardest it's ever been when you start giving kitten licks to his tip, innocently looking up at him through your lashes like you're asking for praise.

he murmurs filth under his breath when your lips close around his head, sucking at a spot that makes him shudder. he forces his hips to stay absolutely still even if he wants to destroy your throat. he can't afford to scare you away now. not when you're finally within his reach.

yet sylus can't help but run his hand through your hair, pulling you closer. making you take him in deeper. guiding your head as you bob up and down. you're gurgling around his cock, spit dripping from your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes. so obviously struggling but still sucking more of him in, eager to please. you choke when his cock hits the back of your throat, and still, you hollow your cheeks, licking everywhere you could.

and that does it for him, making him finish much, much quicker than he means to. his cum fills your mouth, warm thick streams that overflow from your lips. he doesn't expect you to swallow, ready to catch with his palm, but you gulp it all down like a good girl.

sylus's chest fills with deep satisfaction. he tells you well-deserved praise as he showers your face with pecks, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes bitter but oh so nauseatingly sweet.

he wants to reward you for being a good girl, you he pulls you to the edge of the mattress, pressing down on your thighs as he digs in. the first lick on your pretty pussy makes you yelp, legs kicking out in surprise. he gives your thighs a warning squeeze, and by the second, you're obediently staying as still as you can, whimpering to your palm.

you taste as sweet as you look, and sylus hums contently as he licks up all your slick and it never runs out. you moan so nicely for him when he laps at your clit, continuously flicking his tongue at the small bud, and you all but scream when he sucks it hard, tangling your fingers in his hair and jerking up your hips.

he doesn't complain when you ride his face, staring intently at your expression twisted in pleasure. your mouth is shaped around an ‘o’, eyes rolling back as he dares to slip his tongue inside your hole. he rubs your engorged clit with a rough thumb, fucking in and out your pussy with his tongue, groaning amidst the lewd symphony of squelches.

he hasn't planned on touching you, no. but he's thought of it countless times on nights he felt especially lonely after you left. imagined you on his lap, fondling your soft chest, playing with your cute pussy. he wondered what spots made you feel good, where you'd be sensitive. what faces you'd make when he touched them.

sylus doesn't have to wonder anymore, committing the sinful sight to memory. you've always been cute, but he thinks you're even more adorable now, squirming as he gently eases a finger inside you. you're wet enough to fit two, but it's still quite tight; it might take a while before you can take him in. he presses a reassuring kiss on your inner thigh when he finds your g-spot, telling you to stay still and be good.

so sylus spends a bit of time between your legs, adding more fingers as he laps away at your clit. at your first orgasm, he fucks you through it, not stopping his hand until the spray of cum has ceased. by the second, you've drenched his sheets and his arm, but by the way you're moaning his name almost incoherently, you don't want him to stop.

on the verge of a third, a fourth finger teasing at your entrance, you're begging him to fuck you. sylus has felt close to bursting for a while, so he doesn't complain. he rubs his cock between your wet folds, tapping at your clit with the head. slicking his cock with your juices as he marvels at how tiny you seem under him, the length of him intimidatingly massive laying on your stomach.

when he pops the tip of his cock inside, you clench around him immediately, warm and so goddamn tight. he can't slide it in one, smooth thrust; he fucks it inside bit by bit, observing your face for any signs of pain, but all he sees is a dazed, drooling slut, crying out his name and for him to put it all inside her. he shushes you, reasoning he has to be slow, but he's very well on the edge of his patience.

when his cock is halfway in, you turn into a shuddering, sobbing mess. his tip has poked somewhere sensitive, and when he grinds against it, you squirt hard, spraying cum on his abs. he laughs in disbelief, meanly rubbing tight circles on your clit to make your orgasm last longer.

once sylus has finally bottomed out, he whispers endless compliments to your ear, hands roaming around your skin. he can't stop his hips from thrusting, tirelessly fucking in and out of your soaked cunt with vigor he hasn't had in years. sylus doesn't consider himself the vocal type, but now he can't shut up about how pretty you are, how good and sweet you are for him. how nice and tight your cute pussy feels, how you're made to take in his huge cock.

he uses you the way he imagines in his dirty fantasies, like a whore he pays to bed. yet at the same time, you're his precious little princess, the one person he shouldn't hurt. the one person he should treat with utmost care. the one person that should stay untainted by the filthy world.

but you're moaning so loud, enjoying being his little slut. you want to be fucked hard and fast, fingerprints on your hips and waist. you want to be bred full of his cum and do it all over again. you want to be his.

so sylus takes you in all the ways he knows how. on your back. on your knees. on his lap. he lets you ride him, fucking up into your cunt when you get tired. he takes you against the wide, clear window panes, uncaring if someone might have seen. he fucks you while standing, holding up all of your weight, making you watch yourself on the mirror as he thrusts inside. he never once pulls out when he cums, your pussy crammed with his hot, milky loads.

you make a mess everywhere, but you don't have time to worry about it. you don't even worry about the chances of getting pregnant, being pumped full of sylus's cum. even if you did end up pregnant, sylus keeps going on and on about wanting you to be his pretty wife, that he won't let you want for nothing, that he'll provide for your every need if you'll just stay with him.

and in the face of his love, bordering on desperate obsession, you don't even know why you were ever worried about him falling for anyone else.

from the moment he laid eyes on you, he couldn't look away.

[bwat5-blog]

Pivotal moments for Caitlyn Kirraman

**Spoilers for all of Arcane**

Much Like Vi I wanted to do a run-down of the moments for Caitlyn's character I see as showing us who she is/having the biggest impact for her character. As always I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read these as well all celebrate these amazing characters and story. I feel Caitlyn's arc was massively under-appreciated in season 2 by the fandom and hope this lends itself to backing that up.

*Side Note- I'm doing these in order in her life not necessarily how we see them in the show*

Helping Jayce:

We are not granted a lot of time with young Caitlyn when compared to say, Vi or Jinx, which makes sense of course given the focus of the story. However, what we are given perfectly demonstrate the bedrock of who we come to know. She is shown as bright and curious and eager, helping him carry supplies to the lab. She is also shown even at a young age standing up for Jayce to her parents, sitting out in the rain to speak with him, and as shown above, identifying herself as a misfit. Now on the surface its easy to say she falls into the "rich kid who doesn't belong" trope. But as we come to know her she is truly so much more than that.

Who Do You Shoot For?:

Building on Caitlyn's compassion and defiance in the face of the system she is born into, we have her shooting competition with Grayson. First of all we just get a glimpse into the tough, skilled marksman she will become. But going deeper, we have her interaction with Grayson at the party. Once again she demonstrates that ever-so-polite defiance, humorously confronting the sheriff of Piltover for letting her win. But its their conversation after that's important. The sheriff tells her being skilled with her rife means protecting people, and Caitlyn must decide who she is shooting for. I would liken this to Vi's lessons with Vander. Because while we see Caitlyn go through so much pain and darkness, ultimately when she finds her way back who is she? A leader will go toe-to-toe with anyone for those she wants to protect. For those she shoots for.

The Airship incident:

This our first real moment with Caitlyn as a character and it tells us several important things about her. Leading up to it, we learn her parents disapprove of her being an enforcer, and manipulated her posting to keep her close by for which she is resentful. This is not surprising, as we come to learn her genuine drive to help and make a difference. She goes to investigate the airship alone. We see her detective's mind at work for the first time, playing out the incident. We then see her interaction with a massive, tattooed undercity criminal who is wounded. She is kind, gentle and respectful despite her role as an enforcer. Furthermore, when Marcus confronts her, he says she's interfering AGAIN. Caitlyn may be naïve and sheltered when we meet her, but she is not PLAYING at being an enforcer. She wants to help, and is actively trying to figure out what's going on in the undercity, apparently long before she even meets Vi.

The Hexgem theft:

This marks Caitlyn's first interaction with Jinx, which could not be more important to her Arc. Her very first impression of the woman she could never have known would impact her life so greatly, is a manic terrorist who lights a building on fire and fakes that a child is trapped inside before setting off bombs that kill multiple of Caitlyn's peers. Also of note, although not unexpected with what we have seen from her so far is that she rushes in to help and is the first one to notice the danger despite being a rookie enforcer.

Meeting Vi:

Meeting and freeing Vi is Caitlyn first step into the wider world around her and has immeasurable impact on her character. Her love story with Vi aside (I love it to, its just I could write pages on them alone and I am trying to cover all of her arc in this post haha) we also see her head strong, determined nature in this moment. Remember, she has already been reprimanded for unauthorized investigations into Silco and the undercity. We have been told she has a history of this. When Jayce goes to see her after the explosion she is still investigating, and now she fakes Jayce's authorization to free a woman she doesn't know in order to chase her lead. SHE. WILL. NOT. QUIT. Sound like she may be a good fit for a certain head strong boxer who lacks patience but is always honest? Anyway, the other thing we see here that is a small moment and not unexpected given what we have seen from her, is her disgust and discomfort over how the prison has treated Vi.

Saving Vi Part 1:

Vi is almost certainly about to be killed when Caitlyn intervenes. She accurately strikes Sevika multiple times with her rifle and is controlled and calm. At a first glance her accuracy and skill are plenty commendable. She hits the same spot with accuracy, lands with clear athleticism to join Vi, is calm, collected, confidant and restrained enough not to Kill Sevika. As soon as the threat is passed she tends to her wounded ally. Now here's the thing. I didn't do a bullet point for it, but consider Caitlyn's behavior following Vi down into the lanes. Part of it is of course that it was unfamiliar and shocking when vi took off, and Caitlyn just wasn't used to that sort of thing. But she was kind of adorably clumsy and unsure. She never really moves with confidence and strength, until of course she pulls our a rifle and starts blasting a woman who just stabbed her new friend with pint point accuracy three times. The moment someone's life is at risk Caitlyn shows us this entirely new side of herself. Perhaps the side of her that will someday lead the front lines in the battle of Piltover?

Saving Vi part two:

n Caitlyn's continuing efforts to save Vi we delve deeper into what we have already seen from her. At the very basic level, she barely knows Vi. Yes of course we are seeing the beginnings of their feelings for each-other. But that aside she is a young woman in her early twenties. She has followed this woman she barely knows into this very dangerous place, saved her from being killed, followed her even deeper while caring for her, and now she follows a shimmer mutated Huck to the "Doctor" to save Vi. I went to Netflix and counted while writing this. It takes no more than ten seconds for her to surrender her prized rifle that is likely custom made for her and she clearly loves, all to save Vi's life. She then hugs the grotesquely mutated Huck out of gratitude after being kind to him, and showing him respect for his help. She does not shy away, is not disgusted. And in fact she lunges for the hug. This ties to her conversation with Vi during this ordeal before she gives up her rifle. In which she is speaking on her belief that Zaunites and Topsiders are all just people. She does not see them as different.

The Firelights:

To me this is a massively important point for Caitlyn for a few reasons.

Caitlyn & Vi: They start off bickering. Blaming each other for what they have played close to the vest. But as soon as Vi is taken away what does Caitlyn do? She is concerned and afraid for her. And when she sees Ekko she demands Vi be released and offers herself instead.

in General: She speaks to her desire to see an end to the killing. Its clear she hasn't known how bad things actually are with the enforcers and the undercity, and is understandably resistant at first. But after only a few moments, she acknowledges Ekko would be within his rights to keep the gemstone but "The Cycle of Violence Will Never Stop" (sound familiar?). She quickly agrees to let Ekko be the one to give the stone to the council, still believing in peace and trying to play a part in making it happen.

**Side note: I didn't do a whole point on it because it's really about Vi and Jinx. But we need to make note that before this Caitlyn has her second interaction with Jinx in which Jinx shows herself to be paranoid, unstable and violent**

The Bridge:

The attack on the bridge is immensely impactful on Caitlyn's character and what I like to think of as the true beginning of Caitlyn's destabilization, leading to her descent into the dark. Thus far, we have watched this extraordinary young woman weather some truly insane events when you consider the life she has lead until now. Even still, she has remained poised, brave, respectful and open. Of course she has heard talk about brutality of her people toward the undercity. She has admitted it was wrong and wants to see things made right. But that is very different than the highest member of her organization shooting her new friend in the chest and getting ready to kill her. Its a sudden and violent in-the-moment thrusting of reality upon her that she has no choice but to believe. Furthermore, we mark her next interaction with Jinx, who has now almost killed her a third time, as well as almost killing Vi and they believe having killed Ekko and who knows how many enforcers.

Testifying To The Council:

So I know I am repeating myself some here. But that is intentional. The show is driving home for us that Caitlyn is truly a good person. Everything she has been through up until now with Vi is intense, scary, and destabilizing. She and Vi have very real feelings for each other and we end this section with very sad moment in which it seems hopeless for them. But its leading up to that I want to discuss. Caitlyn stands before the council of Piltover. The richest and most powerful people in her immediate world. With her mother on the council it feels reasonable to assume she knows these people. They probably have watched her grow up. And yet in her early twenties after earning the knowledge the hard way what does she do? She stands before them and calls them out for their failures. Including herself in that. She takes a stand against the neglect by Piltover that made the people of the undercity vulnerable to dangerous criminals. She commends Vi for putting herself at risk in helping Caitlyn, and never throws Vi under the bus as Jinx's older sister. And when Vi gets upset and leaves Caitlyn tries to get her to stay still insisting their must be a way.

Abduction From Home/Dinner Party:

In her next interaction with Jinx, Caitlyn is taken from the safety of her own home, and held hostage until Jinx initiates her dinner party with Vi. The events of the dinner party set the stage for the next chapter of the story dramatically affecting every character we meet, and Caitlyn is no exception. As this is the end of season 1, a brief refresher of who we have come to know up until this point is in order:

Clever, bright and loyal young girl who will defy convention to stand up for those she loves

Tenacious and dedicated teenage girl who doesn't want to earn her victories and is pondering things like who she is shooting for

Dedicated rookie enforcer who will not be deterred from investigating wrong doing and corruption no matter the cost

Open minded and trusting young woman in her early twenties who saves someone she barely knows life, even at the cost of her prized weapon and her own safety multiple times

Displays her desire to see peace with the undercity multiple times and verbally equates the undercity and topsiders in terms of humanity going against the classist behavior of characters like Marcus for example.

Treats Vi with tenderness, loyalty and trust even before they really get to know each-other.

Now. The reason I ran that down again is because THAT young woman in her early twenties is the person you see in the GIF above you. Jinx has now tried to kill her repeatedly. Killed her fellow enforcers. Tried to kill the woman she is having feelings for, even though that woman is her sister. Has abducted her from her bathroom naked, and now has her here. She looks utterly and completely terrified and I don't blame her. And to top it all off, after hesitating to take a shot at Jinx due to her feelings for Vi, Caitlyn is knocked out violently and THEN HAS TO WATCH JINX KILL HER MOTHER.

RETURN TO PILTOVER:

Caitlyn and Vi return to the upper city in the wake of immense tragedy and we see Caitlyn trying to hold it all together. Her whole world has gone black & White except for Violet(s). She is trying so hard to keep it together but already we can see the cracks forming. Even with all that has happened she maintains her testimony of Jinx being the only issue which is instrumental in preventing more violent Piltover retaliation. But we must also recognize her (totally understandable just jarring) desire to end Jinx's laugh forever, Mel's comments to Jayce regarding Caitlyn hiding it well but being in "So Much Pain", and Caitlyn asking Vi to put on the uniform of an Enforcer, when she knows Vi's history. Caitlyn is suffering and trying to hard to hold things together.

The Memorial Attack:

Caitlyn is drowning in grief. Her relationship with Vi is tenuous. She is expected to rise to meet her mothers role in city. She is holding on for dear life to her ideals and perceptions of reality that have shaped her as a person. Now the attack on the memorial is incredible as a fan for many reasons. But for Caitlyn we need to keep two things in mind as we move forward that at extremely impactful in understanding her:

There is no reason to think she and the others would not assume that Jinx had ordered this attack, or at the very least assisted in some way. The last they saw of Vi's sister she had just struck at the very heart of Piltover's government and its entirely reasonable to assume this attack is an extension of that. So I think its fair to say we can consider this Caitlyn's next interaction with Jinx even if its all mental.

Up until now, Caitlyn has never used any broad-stroke negativity toward the people of the undercity. She has addressed individuals, or perhaps a specific group of people in the undercity such as Silco's goons. But never called them Trenchers, Sump rats or any of that other stuff. Here in her rage, we see her refer to the people who attacked as Animals. Now in the moment, its entirely reasonable when pertaining to the attackers. But it is a noticable shift in her that tells us she is already (quite understandably) being swallowed by what happened.

The Strike Team:

Caitlyn leading the strike team into Zaun and utilizing the grey has been the source of much controversy. Its a clear escalation in her willingness to do violence against the undercity but when you consider everything we have talked about its hardly a shock. However, this show does a good job of letting us know Caitlyn is not totally lost to her pain. All we have to do is think critically:

While the use of the grey is extremely dark and absolutely morally questionable, the fandom's decision to portray it as mustard gas/sarin/pick your lethal poison is nonsense. We have seen multiple characters exposed to it multiple times and live. Its debilitating in the moment and uncomfortable and I'm sure is unhealthy over long exposure. Its tear gas.

Caitlyn's small targeted force is the alternative to full-scale invasion with hex tech armed enforcers. As I have said in various posts, by this point in the story Piltover retaliating is not an if. its a when and how bad. Caitlyns plan is the only reason an army of Enforcers does not march into the undercity at this point.

All that to say this. While she is clearly heading down a dark path, excising the hyperbole of the fan-base determined to demonize her and taking into account the whole of the circumstances surrounding this part of the story we are shown Caitlyn is still in there. But she is losing the fight with her inner-demons.

The Kiss:

We all cheered here. I did. You know you did. But I think we all knew the heartbreaking truth here as well. It was far too late for her to keep her promise to Vi. And in truth, it wasn't a fair thing for Vi to ask (BEFORE YOU COME FOR ME- Vi is my favorite character, and I have written extensively in her defense against the absolutely inane criticisms people have been levelling at her character). It's not Vi's fault, she has lost everyone she loves and is terrified watching the last person she has left be warped by the darkness in their lives. But when you consider the totality of paradigm-shifting suffering Caitlyn has endured since meeting Vi, I don't know how anyone couldn't change.

I have seen people say that Caitlyn was wrong to promise Vi. Wrong to kiss her in this moment. Those people are holding these characters to unreasonable standards in the extreme. We are seeing Caitlyn trying for the woman she loves. She sees the vulnerability and fear in Vi, the woman she loves so much, who she has been through so much with (and who has donned the Enforcer uniform for her) and of course she has a surge of love and a desire to comfort Vi. The love and tenderness is undeniable. But when you take in the context of the situation, It feels like we are waiting for the floor to fall out from under us. AND BOY DOES IT.

The Battle/The Break up/The Rise of the Commander:

I group these together because really its the transition of Caitlyn as we know her into "The Commander". This whole section is in a word, heartbreaking. We see Caitlyn fighting tooth and nail against Sevika, she likely saves Vi's life as it seems like Isha's gun was going to go off (whether the child meant it to or not), and Vi stops Caitlyn from taking the shot. Leading to Caitlyn lashing out in the worst way, telling Vi she is no different than the woman who killed Caitlyn's mother (AKA the version of Vi's sister Caitlyn knows Vi carries immense guilt over) and ending her status as the only enforcer never to abuse Vi, leaving her holding her stomach and crying on the floor while Caitlyn abandons her. We then see Caitlyn chosen as the commander, taking her place by Ambessa's side, becoming someone who would betray everything she used to stand for .

Its easy to look at this, and feel anger at Caitlyn. Especially as someone who has always connected with Vi's character and as someone who really loves their love story it leaves you feeling violated. But that's the thing, it should. We are not watching Caitlyn choose power out of a desire to destroy her enemies or because she thinks she deserves it. We are watching the tragic culmination of this brave, compassionate, brilliant and tenacious young woman being swallowed by the darkness. What's the line from Hamilton? "There are moments when your in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down". She has lost her mother, her sense of safety, her belief in the system of law and order she has lived her whole life by, and now the woman she loves. And in swoops Ambessa, a warlord. A woman renowned for her cleverness and manipulation. She takes this vulnerable, grieving, isolated and angry young woman and tells her she will get her justice. Caitlyn never had a chance.

**A small pause to discuss grief and peoples absolutely insane take on Caitlyn's handling of hers**

I am going to take a second here before we move on because due to the rushed pacing of season 2 Caitlyn doesn't get the detail she should have after this point, and because the discussion of her loss and grief is essential in understanding how this all happened. This is one of those things I have written about before but peoples dogmatic opposition to media literacy continues so here we go! "Ku Klux Kirraman!", "Oh the people of the undercity live in constant pain and death but Caitlyn loses a single family member and starts gassing kids?!"

To put it simply my friends. Grief is not a contest. Yes, of course the people growing up in the undercity have a much better understanding of death and grief than Caitlyn. up until the events of this story, she has lived a life of peace, and privilege, and comfort . And that's not a bad thing. ideally all children would know such a life if we could work our will upon the world right? But what it means for her is that when she does experience that loss, to say nothing of it being at the hands of a woman who has tried to kill her repeatedly, tried to kill the woman she loves, killed her peers, and abducted her naked from her own bathroom, Caitlyn's entire world is shifted. I have mentioned multiple times during this whole thing. She is only in her early twenties. That is so young.. so fucking young to have your world shift SO VIOLENTLY in such a short time. And in the standard incredible fashion of this show, they have addressed this concept already. Remember this?

Vi is angry at Jayce for bowing out due to the under city child's death. And for her, for the way she grew up she is totally justified in feeling that way. She grew up surrounded by death. But its just too much for Jayce.

I sincerely hope all of you reading this never have to cope with the loss of a loved one but we all know that's not reality. So if you are one of the people demonizing Caitlyn for what happens here because Zaunites have it worse I'll ask you this. The last time you lost someone, did you chastise yourself because someone somewhere has it worse? No. Because that's unreasonable, illogical, and would be a cruel standard to hold yourself to. Grief is achingly, agonizingly personal to each of us. And while it does not justify Caitlyn's actions, you are simply blind folding yourself to the humanity of this character by ignoring it

Months as the Commander:

As I said unfortunately we don't get to see a lot of Caitlyn "as the commander" but we do learn some things. There are check-points in Zaun, they are imprisoning people, and under the oppressions she has allowed to flourish the Noxians are able to do things like violently arrest people for having a non-violent rally in the Undercity itself. THINGS ARE NOT GREAT. But there some things of note I want to discuss in understanding Caitlyn's state of mind during this time:

The top GIF is not long enough but watching the scene you can see how distant Caitlyn is, how cold. She is not a "happy-go-lucky" facist gleefully imposing her will. We are actively watching someone in so much pain and so buried by her mistakes she doesn't know how to find her way out.

2. All is not lost however. She discusses her issues with the Noxians behavior, she openly questions Ambessa, she has forbidden the use of the cells where she found the love of her life, and despite her mentor's glee over the opportunity to utilize Singed and his knowledge. Caitlyn knows him for what he is, a monster.

Reunited With Vi:

The pacing just takes off at a dead sprint once Vi and Caitlyn find each other so I will touch briefly on the various points I want to for this section. I will say this, I know we all have feelings on how they handled Vi and Caitlyn's reconciliation. I am of the opinion that it was justified by what they showed us completely, but it was still rushed. Like they got the right answer on the math question but only shared the basics of every step to solving it if that makes sense.

Saving Vander

Vi and Caitlyn have this first interaction after so long and its so clear they have both changed so much. But what matters is this. Even after everything Caitlyn has done, Vi trusts her with the truth (Because Vi refuses to give up on those she loves), and Caitlyn immediately is on board. This happens so quickly and we only see them discuss it a little, but we need to think about what this means. Caitlyn finds out the "Weapon" is Vi's dad, and she is ready to turn on Ambessa, the enforcers with her, and the whole system. All for the woman she loves

2. The Battle of the Commune:

So I couldn't find a good GIF for it but even before this moment while Caitlyn is angry when she sees Jinx she doesn't make a move toward her. Then we hit this moment here. If you flash back to the battle that ended in Caitlyn breaking Vi's heart, Caitlyn wanted to take a shot that very likely could have killed a child if it meant hurting jinx. Now Jinx is running with her back to Caitlyn and ALL she cares about is getting to Vi

3. Taking Accountability:

We find out in this confrontation that although Jinx is in jail, it is because she surrendered. Not because Caitlyn ordered it. We also have a few key examples of Caitlyn owning what she has done:

"I KNOW!"- when confronted by Vi over letting Ambessa poison her heart

"We can't erase our mistakes"- She doesn't say "Jinx" can't take back her mistakes. She says "We" and "Our". She is clearly remorseful.

This rolls directly into her conversation with Jinx in which we see even more that Caitlyn knows what she has done:

"No good deed can erase OUR crimes"- Once again holding herself to the same standard as the woman who killed her mother. Holding herself accountable

"I've hated myself"- This could literally not be more clear

*On Cait and Jinx*: I've touched on this before but the parallels between these two are phenomenal. Broken, vulnerable, isolated grieving young women taken in by older, cleverer mentors with their own agendas but who care about them directing their pain for their own purposes. They then both have to learn to end the cycle, or the killing will never stop. Damn this show is so good.

Freeing Jinx:

Caitlyn made a lot of mistakes. That's not a secret. There were reasons as I and many and others have explained. But in this moment, she has intentionally paved the way for the woman she loves, to free her little sister from Jail. This comes after Cait admitting she doesn't want to hate Jinx any more. The cycle has to end. And Caitlyn admitting she has made mistakes, she has hated herself, she has lost herself to the darkness she now knows she has inside as well. And on top of that, she is here showing Vi that Vi is not alone, that Vi is loved, and that she knows Vi so well she knew what she would do and tried to help. its beautiful, its heartwarming, and after watching who Caitlyn was be shattered into pieces, we are now seeing her re-forged, stronger and more beautiful.

Commander Indeed:

Here we have Caitlyn becoming the commander she should have been. I believe I saw a post that one of the voice actors of the show suggested Caitlyn did nothing during the final battle and got her happy ending. Lets recap shall we:

Leads her troops from the front

Tries to take out Ambessa early and spare bloodshed

We have the bad-ass scene of her fighting with the mask taking out multiple soldiers

Even with a rifle at the back of her head she disables Maddie and tries to take out Ambessa

With a knife in her side and exhausted and scared she challenges A WARLORD OF NOXUS to a fight. "Shut Up and Fight!"

Sacrifices her own eye to take Ambessa out of the fight.

This is all pretty clear cut but I mean god damn. Her character evolution is absolutely staggering.

The End:

Caitlyn ends her story (for now anyway.. looking at your Riot) with the woman she loves. She has surrendered her spot on the Council to Sevika officially granting the undercity a place at the table. And we see her pondering the hex-gate ventilation system, perhaps giving us some hope that Jinx will return as well. I totally understand there are things people wanted to see with Caitlyn that we didn't get to see. But all we can control is what we were given. And when you look at the story of Caitlyn Kiramman, Born in wealth and privilege but with dreams of helping people, to being swallowed by grief, to finding common ground with the woman who took her mother from her, to rising as a leader who doesn't ask her people to fight when she won't and who willingly sacrifices herself for those who look follow her, I'd say she has one hell of an arc. I hope I did her some justice. This actually ended up being longer than i planned but man the more I think about her the more in-depth her story gets. I appreciate all of you.

[martian-astro10]

Career....stuff- part 1 (whole signs)

Note: the career observations will contain a mix of vedic and tropical, do not apply the persona chart observations to the divisional charts and vice versa.

Saturn in Libra, Taurus, Aquarius, or Capricorn in either d9 or d10 indicates being extremely successful in your chosen career. If this Saturn is in the first house then the success might be delayed or it could also be that you don't get much support from the people around you so whatever you end up doing, has to be done from the ground up and therefore takes much more time and effort.

Jupiter in 2nd or 8th house in either the Saturn or MC persona chart means you'll earn A LOT of money through your career. I was going through celebrities' charts and was genuinely surprised to see how many had this, like 60/75.

Another thing I observed was, celebrities who faced many scandals and still managed to deal with them and come out unscathed had Jupiter in 1st, 4th, or 10th in their Saturn or MC persona chart. This is like a "self made person" placement, so people who are more privileged than you might try to drag you down.

10th lord of d1 being exalted or in its own sign in d10= 💲💰🤑💸, like for real. This placement is like a blessing from God. I actually lost count of how many "beloved" people have this. You could be bad at your job, get into scandals, have a shit personality, doesn't matter, this placement will protect you. Especially if exalted.

Jupiter in 5th in d10 is another placement that makes you well liked by others. They're not as scrutinized by the public as others, and can get away with a lot of stuff. It's actually a very lucky placement to have, especially for someone who wants to pursue something where they'll have to interact with a lot of people.

Stelliums in MC and Saturn persona chart are SO IMPORTANT, I cannot emphasize this enough. If you have a stellium then the sign is literally how people will perceive you in your career and how you'll be remembered, it doesn't even matter if it's true or not, and that actually sucks. (Martha Stewart has a stellium in Gemini, the woman is literally called a media mogul. Beyonce has a libra and scorpio stellium, some people think she's the sweetest, very charming and one of the best singers in the world and the other half thinks that she's in a cult and plans murders of those she's in a competition with so....yeah)

Moon in 6th in d10 is such a "hardworking perfectionist" placement, and you'll be known as such. These people are the type to do everything alone in a group project because they don't like the way other people do things. Working under others does not yield good results for them. I'm gonna be honest, I rarely see these people achieving the same level of success as they actually deserve. People end up stealing their ideas and taking credit for their work, so I would suggest you all to keep everything that you're doing a secret.

10th lord of d1 or d10 in 3rd house of d10 is a good actor placement, almost all the highly acclaimed actors have this. If not acting, then any other career related to mass communication would be good for you and bring success and praise.

Jupiter in Capricorn in d10 can indicate a lot of obstacles in your career, people may constantly try to sabotage you. This placement also makes it very hard to save money. Expenditure will always be more than income.

Moon mars conjunction in Aries, leo, Pisces or Sagittarius in d9 is a GREAT placement, and one that has the ability to make you very rich and successful. It can bring benefits related to marriage as well. A spouse that will respect you and make you happy and a career that will help you achieve all your dreams and desires. The conjunction should not be in the 7th house though. Moon mars conjunction in other signs is still good for career but can bring negative effects in regards to marriage.

Divider by @cursed-carmine

© martian-astro10 All rights reserved, 2025

[fables-if]

The Night of Ataegina and Betatun

A high fantasy interactive fiction story based on Spanish mythology, folklore, and paganism. Set in modern-day Spain. Most locations and all the characters are fictional, except the type of fae that will be seen during the story.

Summary:

After leaving Imeria during your eighteen birthday to chase your dreams and college education, you return to the little village in Southern Europe that saw you grow up after receiving the horrible news that Caterina, the old woman that took you in after the death of your family and your adoptive grandma (or yaya, as you call her), is terminally ill and has a few months left.

During your return, Imeria is set in motion to host an ancient festival and masquerade. It’s supposed to honor two ancient Iberian deities, one called Ataegina, ruler of the underworld, and the other one Betatun, deity of fertility. Most Imerians don’t believe in the ancient legends but those who do, like Catelina say that it’s the most dangerous night of the year because the frontier between the mortal and the magic realm is so thin anything can happen. 

Returning home under the threat of Caterina dying is already hard enough, but will you be able to adapt back into Imeria and rekindle old friendships or form new ones? Will you uncover the deep and rich history of your home and the old magic it carries? 

We shall discover it all very soon.

Features:

Customizable mc: Gender, pronouns, and physical appearance

Build friendship or romance with four characters.

Learn more about Spain's folklore and pagan traditions. Uncover your family history and your abilities.

Develop your MC's personality as you go

Two characters are gender locked but you can choose the gender identity of the other two

Your choices can't be undone and will have consequences.

Characters:

Caterina: An older woman, well into her 80s who took in the MC after most of her family died. She doesn’t seem to have a family of her own, or at least that’s what Mc believes. Caterina has a sweet disposition, always up for helping anybody. She raised MC with the stories of the folklore of their village, so she will always know how to honor the traditions of Imeria. MC doesn’t remember very well what she did for a living but she used to do fortune and tarot reading for some villagers and they usually came to her for advice and help. 

Ana: She runs The Golden Apothecary, a small store where she sells traditional remedies. Her family has run the Apothecary forever, and it’s considered a family craft. Ana has golden shoulder-length wavy hair, almond ocean-blue eyes, and a button nose. She’s no taller than 167cm, with a voluptuous body and soft features. Ana is in her late 20s to early 30s.

Personality-wise, Ana is soft-spoken, sweet, and very open-minded. She strikes to accept everyone with open arms, as long as they’re good people. Unfortunately, some individuals mistake Ana’s kindness with weakness, which is untrue. Ana is extremely smart, stubborn, and strong-minded, she’s always kind but only to those who deserve it. She can be a lot to reckon with if she deems you a bad person. Ana dreams of seeing the world but there is something tying her to Imeria.

Supernatural or not (spoiler):

Ana is a Xana, a river spirit that helps those she finds worthy by offering them pure water or gold. Some people believe that Xanas interchange human babies with fairy babies. As a river spirit, Ana can’t be apart from her river or she’ll suffer horrible consequences.  She met Caterina when Caterina was a young maiden and bathed in her river. Ana saw the purity of her soul and gifted her magic. Xanas are mythological creatures that originate from Asturias, a northern region of Spain with strong Celtic influences.

Anne, An or Antón: Anne/An/Antón works on their family farm along with some of their siblings. The Zamora’s farm supplies Imeria with its fresh produce. Everyone knows the family since they’re a happy and amicable bunch. Anne/An/Antón is pretty tall, around 185cm, they have wide shoulders, a big frame, tan skin and are chubby. The shape of their face is round, with little freckles, big green eyes, long eyelashes, and a hooked nose. They have short straight brown hair and are a bit hairy.. Their voice is deep and loud, almost booming, exactly like their laugh. Anne/An/Antón is super extroverted, knows everybody in the village, and has a sunny and sweet disposition. They are super strong, from all the physical labor but their secret hobby crocheting, they’re always making little dolls for the children of the village or making clothes. In general, they’re super well-liked and have a golden heart. Anne/An/Antón is the MC's childhood best friend and neighbor. Unfortunately, after leaving Imeria they didn’t keep in touch. Anne/An/Antón is 25 years old. 

Supernatural or not:

Anne/An/Antón is an Ome, a mountain spirit, and a giant made of rock that turns into mountains after living for many centuries. Their whole family is made of Omes graznidos. Omes Graznidos are a type of mythological creature that originates from Aragón, a northeast region of Spain surrounded by mountains.

Diego, Diana, or Dix: Diego/Diana/Dix is new in Imeria, they have been living in the little village for less than a year. Nobody knows where they came from, they remain a bit of a mystery for everyone. They set up a popular lounge called “The Velvet Moon” in the middle of the village, very exclusive and chic which clashes with the rest of the decoration of Imeria. Still, the young Imerians love the place. They’re 31 years old but look slightly older. 

Diego/Diana/Dix is of average height, standing around 174cm, they’re pretty slender, with a petite frame and olive skin. They have an angular face, with sharp features, long shaggy black hair, and clear eyes that almost seem silver-colored. Diego/Diana/Dix keep mostly to themselves and can be seen riding their motorcycle around the village. They have a limp and can be seen using a cane. As mysterious as they are, they’re pretty talkative once you get to know them, and are very protective of those they love. Diego/Diana/Dix seems to be interested in the MC, since they’re always watching them, and seem to have a secret that they don’t want to share with anybody. They are very self-reliant, have learned to survive by themselves and have a hard time trusting others, but once you have earned their trust, they’re loyal to a fault. 

Rumors say they have a criminal past and are mixed with a bad crowd, but not everything seems as it is.  

Supernatural or not (spoilers):

Diego/Diana/Dix takes the form of a giant spectral dog, with long black hair and a permanent limp, which is called dip by Spanish folklore. They’re supposed to be emissaries from the devil and they suck the blood of the livestock at night. However, not all legends tell the entire truth. 

Bingen: Bingen lives in the forests near Imeria, where he has a small cottage and a little bit of land where he has a vegetable patch. Bingen is a well-known journalist for online newspapers. He’s an ecologist, and his coverage is mostly about the natural world and ecologism. 

Bingen barely sets foot in Imeria, he is auto-sufficient but he comes down to the village to visit Ana and her apothecary, and to buy a few things he needs.

Bingen has a square jaw with high cheekbones, sharp green eyes, and long blonde messy hair, usually kept in a braid. He has a sweet face with a straight nose, and round brown eyes that resemble a little lamb. He’s the tallest of the bunch, 1’90cm, very muscled from all the exercise, and has a big frame. He loves hiking and is very in touch with nature. Bingen has a hard time socializing, preferring being around animals and plants since he understands them better. He, as intimidating as he looks, is a sweetheart and really craves human connection. Bingen is not talkative but expresses his feelings and emotions through his actions. He might have a hard time telling you he cares about you but he’ll help you install furniture or will make you soup when you’re sick. He always shows up when you need him to.

Bingen recently led a rescue of a few teens who got lost in the forest and saved them from a wolf attack, since then a lot of the villagers have respected him a lot and brought little sweet treats to his cottage. He's in between 27-33 years old.

He has struck a friendship with Ana, who frequents the forest often.   

Supernatural or not (Spoilers):

Bingen is a Basajaún a creature that inhabits the forests of The Basque Country, Navarra, and some parts of Aragón. Basajaúns are described as giant hairy men who protect the livestock, and warn shepherds of wolfs during the night. Basajaúns are seen as protectors of the forest but also creatures of great strength and kinda dangerous. 

Rami: A green weasel-like creature, with a long and flexible body, similar to a snake, and little tusks. They’re friendly and sweet and help guide the MC during their adventure. Rami’s fur has healing qualities. 

Extra:

This project is made by an absolute amateur in coding so it's going to take a long time. I have been writing since forever so I trust in my ability to create a good and entertaining story and I hope you guys stay for the ride.

The Night of Ataegina and Betatún is also going to be a surprise gift for a dear friend of mine who absolutely loves Interactive fiction and this project (if I get to finish it;_;) might be the way I ask her out since we both harbor strong feelings for each other. So let's hope she doesn't find out about the project before it's time.

[knight-commander]

Observations on an Empty World

I recently started a new game in Dragon Age: Origins as part of the grieving process, and I'm struck by how allergic the writers of Dragon Age: Veilguard were to providing rich opportunities for roleplaying and exploration – fundamental elements of the franchise that previous entries excelled at and audiences clearly expected. It's extremely noticeable in the differences in how we interact with other characters in Thedas, and especially prominent in the first hours of each game.

While playing as a Dalish Elf in Origins, during the prologue alone, you can speak freely to and question:

Tamlen, your childhood friend

Keeper Marethari, the leader of your clan

Merrill, the Keeper's second-in-command

Maren, a gentle woman who works with the halla

Ilen, the clan's craftsman, who teaches you about the Vir Tanadhal

Paivel, one of the hahrens who raised you and Tamlen

Pol, a city elf come to the Dalish to avoid being hanged for theft

Junar, the hunter teaching Pol about Dalish life

Ashalle, who tells you the sad story of your parents (and the game lets you decide how to react to her telling you this)

Fenarel, who wants to come with you on your search for Tamlen with or without informing the Keeper

The 3 (nameless) humans encroaching on your clan's campsite, who you can choose to ruthlessly kill or scare off, but either way contributes to the clan having to leave

Duncan, of course

You can talk to many of these characters twice or more, once when you awake in camp the first time, and again after returning empty-handed after your search for Tamlen. They have different attitudes towards you and the politics of the world they live in. Often, you can interrogate them for more information. Some have interesting insights, others provide context for the world your character inhabits. Sometimes, you'll unlock codex entries from conversations you have with these side characters (or items in their vicinity), elaborating even more on what you've learned. All of this is in service to helping you roleplay: each interaction layers choices upon choices, building a picture of how your character interfaces with friends, acquaintances, and strangers, as well as how you'll fit them into the ideological jigsaw puzzle that is Thedas.

You will talk to none* of these characters again after the first two hours of the game. They are "not important", but they provide vital glimpses of a wider world that could exist outwith the boundaries of the main quest. The implications of the history they've lived – Paivel's sorrow at having to "bury babes he once held in his arms"; Ilen's recollections of his father's successful first-strikes against Ferelden tribes; Ashalle's reasons for withholding the sad story of your parentage – are all unnecessary to the plot of defeating the Blight, but they make Thedas feel lived in. Alive.

Before I move on: I could be very cruel to Veilguard here and count Ostagar as part of the prologue – which it is. In this case, the number of richly-characterised NPCs balloons massively. For the sake of the argument, I won't.

In Veilguard, the prologue has you interact with:

The nameless bartender, with whom you are given one singular dialogue choice (to persuade with violence or a silver-tongue).

Varric, whose goal in the opening fifteen minutes is to lead you to the next plot point.

Harding, who saves some nameless NPCs and comes with you to the next plot point.

Neve, who is the next plot point and who Varric and Harding already know, so they briefly introduce you to each other in between fights.

... Let's extend it a bit, otherwise that's a sad little list. In the follow-up mission to Arlathan Forest, you can talk to:

Strife and Irelin, faction leaders and darlings of the extended universe (aka, the heroes from another short story), who tell you who you're going to talk to next.

Bellara, who already knows who the Neve Gallus is, of course, and is all but ready to jump into action, even if you don't know who she is or her motivations for being out here in this pickle.

... Uh-oh, it's not looking that much better. Can we keep going? Including the D'Meta's Crossing section, you can also talk to:

Jahel, the surviving Veil Jumper you came looking for. This shouldn't really be counted, because it's not really a back-and-forth. He dies after approximately 2 lines of expository dialogue about the plot of this immediate section. His named Veil Jumper partner, Mihiva, is dead when you arrive.

Arguably, you could "interact" the nameless villagers afflicted by the Taint on the way there, but they do the 'crazed mutterings' and it's not really a back-and-forth, just an environmental button press when you approach.

Julius, the Mayor of D'Meta's Crossing, who you can lightly question, then decide his fate.

Morrigan, for the cameo, I suppose.

Look, I could tack Treviso and the Ossuary on. It might look slightly better. I could count the Caretaker and the faction shopkeepers with their AI-generated ass one-line introductions (but I absolutely will not, because that's ridiculous). The problem is, to me, transparent.

Veilguard is only interested in interactions with the "main characters" of Thedas – the cast of action heroes that surround your Rook. These include your companions, characters from previous games (Varric, Morrigan), and names from the comics or tie-in novels who you are supposed to whoop and cheer for when they appear without ever getting to find out who they are. If I was being unkind, I would even say it is uninterested in providing opportunities to converse with these characters given the superficial, skin-deep nature of the dialogue.

Of the short, sparse interactions you are allowed to participate in during Veilguard's opening, you can have a brief back-and-forth with at most three characters who are not other party members (past or present) or faction leaders. Two are named. I won't do the labour of counting lines of dialogue, but there are only a handful for all of these characters combined.

Throughout the game, these "other characters" exist to be beaten down in service to the plot, as quest markers in service to the plot, or to be saved in service to the plot. If you are lucky, they might have names, but they will never be so fleshed out that you could imagine an internal world for them. You can never imagine what their place in Thedas might be beyond the context you meet them in. They stand or sit or lie stationary at map markers, waiting to be talked to, and cease to exist once their dialogue tree is concluded.

The game tells you, at every possible opportunity, to keep moving. Move onto the next plot point, it says. Forget who you just talked to – they're not important like Neve, or Harding, or Lucanis, or Emmrich. You don't even need to know their names. They don't have an exclamation mark above their head. They weren't here five minutes ago, and they're not going to be here in five minutes. The words they say don't matter, it's just padding for the script to get you from Point A to Point B. Varric says you've got the elven gods Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain to take down, isn't that thrilling?

[genderqueerdykes]

the easiest way to tell if someone knows literally jack shit about lesbian history & community is if they try to tell you masc, male, ftm, genderfluid, multigender, genderqueer and/or non binary lesbians don't and can't exist. it's saying you haven't interacted with the lesbian community & its history outside of small isolated internet circles without ever having to even say it. you might claim that lesbians can't be men, mascs, multigender or non binary, but our history & community loudly and proudly states otherwise.

no matter how many times you tell people transmasculine, male, masc, genderfluid, genderqueer and nonbinary lesbians can't be lesbians, we will always be here to prove that's not the case. you can say it until you're blue in the face, it won't change reality. it doesn't matter what you believe a lesbian "should" be, it will never change reality. ideals don't work like that. you can think and think and think about what you Want a lesbian to be all day long, but that doesn't control anyone else who identifies as a lesbian.

you can sit there and bitch and moan and cry about how lesbianism is for women ONLY and that won't change our rich history of male, genderfluid, genderqueer, ftm, masc and genderfucked lesbians. no matter how much it pisses you off that these people exist, we will continue to do so for the rest of time. you can throw a fit, but it doesn't change how people identify in practice. sure you can sit there and say the Ideal lesbian is a 100% cis woman, but we don't live in an ideal world. we don't live in an isolated bubble

real life is complex and nuanced. you can sit there and spitball about queer theory all you want, but it's not going to change how complicated real identities are. it doesn't matter if it bugs you that there are lesbians out there that aren't women. what should be more important is caring about that person and making sure they're accepted. someone who is more invested in telling you what lesbians CAN'T be than what we CAN be is not here for queer COMMUNITY. they're here to try to be right and die on a hill and it's not worth our time. "lesbians can't ever be men ever" is not a hill to die on. it's historically inaccurate and it's just not worth stressing over. move on to greener pastures.

you personally as a lesbian don't like the idea of a lesbian man and don't want to date them? i have fantastic news for you: you don't have to! you can accept lesbian men and mascs even if you're not attracted to them. whether or not someone's identity is taken seriously shouldn't hinge on whether or not you personally are attracted to them. that's not your business, and not your experience. you're not the arbiter of that lived experience- you have no room to comment.

lesbian men, mascs & enbies are not your enemy: we are your family. we have been fighting for lesbian rights since the inception of the modern community. this community has been built off the backs of ftm, transmasc and male dykes and you can't ignore us any longer. if YOU want to be in the lesbian community, you have to understand that there will be people with identities you don't like. you don't have the right to tell them they're not a lesbian. it doesn't matter whether or not YOU like it- their identity is not about you.

[idontcaboose]

Luthor's Cricket part 8

Previous. Masterpost

Lex thought he managed to scare off the little spirit, it had been about 5 hours since his rant in the conference room, but Lex could not help but replay the entire interview back in his mind.

He could see by his answers and Lane's rebuttals could make one not of this world think he was an evil man. Not to mention Phantom's... odd relations with other rich and... uncouth men over his apparently short life. He could not fully blame the child for projecting his trauma onto Lex.

Lex ran through his list of the child.

He appears to be somewhere between 13-15 years old. He died young, but there is no telling how long he has been dead, if he was ever alive to begin with. Though Lex doubts the latter.

He knew a rich man that tried to force a familial relationship upon him.

He was not killed from a kidnapping, but who knows if the man was the one who killed him. He copes with humor and sass, like any child his age. But his silent reaction to Lex yelling at him made him think that there was something there that had triggered him. Was he killed by a hero gone rogue?

It was an uncomfortably short list, full of speculation, but expected since he has only interacted with the teen for a day and a half, and most of it had been malicious on both their parts.

Lex sighed and rubbed his eyes, leaning back on his living room couch. He had dealt with his randomly assigned essay partners in college better than this.

“Hey…. Mr. Luther?”

Lex violently startled at the small voice for the doorway to the foyer.

“Yes, Phantom?”

“You are right.”

“What?” Lex asked, confused.

Phantom shuffled into the living room, standing on the other side of the low coffee table. “That should always be something you should worry about. Someone that strong should have plans in place to keep them from hurting other people. After I left, I saw that the person he was fighting was able to mind control him briefly. He did some pretty bad damage before Wonder Woman was able to stop him and arrest the guy.” Phantom rubbed his arms in a self soothing fashion. “After he came to, he tried to jump back into the action. He is reckless in his collateral. I can't speak for if he feels guilty about what he did, but he has been around for a while. He hasn't seemed to be more mindful of those caught up in the fights, just those in the direct line of fire.” The teen sighed. “For the few he rescues, more die from the buildings the rogues and himself break.

I still think how you are going about it is the wrong way, but… I can help you workshop some better stuff.” Phantom asked with a small smile.

Next

[codeword-art]

I adore Han's character for so many reasons it's hard to articulate it. I was annoyed by Hans in KCD at first, just as much as anyone would be. He seemed like a bully, some rich snobbish dick who existed to just be the villain in Henry's story.

Except he isn't that at all.

Hans challenges Henry to an archery competition and sword fight. If Henry wins either, or both, Han's doesn't react at all like a typical bully or self-centered character. He didn't demand a rematch, try to fight Henry, or accuse him of cheating, and he doesn't even degrade Henry further out of embarrassment. Han's just goes "Damn, I must be having an off day." That is shockingly humble for someone that came at Henry so strongly before.

Our interactions with Hans from then on, and into KCD2, continue to show that Hans is a surprisingly calm, kind, and thoughtful man. He's chill as hell for a nobleman. He takes the death of his people hard. Not even forgetting about them much further into KCD2, when it'd be alright to never mention it again at that point. He even feels sorry for the people in some unknown burnt village that he has no ties too. Just the thought of that destruction and death hurts his heart.

He changes his language towards Henry's dog when he realizes how much Mutt means to Henry and even promises to help Henry look for mutt in the second game (even if that didn't pan out). He is relatively cordial with people if he has a good relationship with them and becomes shy and nervous with older and more powerful company.

He's even a romantic. Hans seems like a lecher, going from woman to woman, flirting with ladies of all classes as long as their appealing to him, but deep down he craves passion and romance like in the fairytale stories. We can see this in his romance arch with Herny, and even in KCD when he's deep in thought about going to Trosky and he tells Henry he's never had a true love before.

His actions betray his words as well. Hans will call Henry a peasant, blacksmith boy, and so on. He pulls rank on Henry often, but then he turns around and will look past anything and everything Henry does.

Oh, you stole my keys from me? That's hilarious, keep them.

You want to sleep in my bed? Go ahead I don't care.

You messed up my chance with Karolina? Whatever, she probably sucked anyway. Here, take this love poem I wrote.

You didn't win the tournament in my name like I asked? Well, that's okay, you tried your best!

There is no reason for Hans to be treating Henry with such good faith, or as equals. Hans doesn't care though. He likes Henry, a lot. The man imprinted on Henry like a duckling, and he's a ride or die for that dirty goofy blacksmith's boy.

Hans isn't perfect either. He's insecure, jealous, sometimes a coward, is a bit socially inept, and quick to pull rank when he feels attacked. Which are all side effects of his environment and the way he was raised by Hanush, who also exhibits similar personality traits. He's a bit spoiled yes, but he also likes to spoil others. He gifts Henry little things all the time, and it's clear gift giving is a love language of his. Like a little magpie, he finds all the shiny baubles and shares them with his favorite person in the whole wide world.

Hans parades around like an arrogant selfish nobleman, but deep down he's a young, fun loving, kind, and passionate man. I could write about him for ages.

[xomarzz]

nocturnal

sylus doing lovey things for his fiancée (mc)

~4.2k words, sylus x fem!reader, not proof-read, FLUFF, smut, just more so suggestive smut, they have sex but nothing crazy, loverboy sylus, sylus just really loves his fiancée, so he makes her tea and a bouquet, tiny angst if you squint, no identifying characteristics in this, it’s mostly sylus, but my fics are always written with a black reader in mind! minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT!

a/n: almost all the lads out of my system,,i had this sitting for a while but i needed to finish it as burnout prevention while im studyinggg for an important exam, i also think i hate writing smut but think i prefer suggestiveness in certain circumstances, so hopefully it’s fine here :P

sylus quietly slipped out of the california king-sized bed, careful not to disturb her. [name] lay asleep beneath the sheets, her face soft with dreams, serene, despite the world he inhabited. her breath came slow and steady, chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm that contrasted with the chaos he lived in.

his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, something flickering in the depths of his gaze, something tender, almost unrecognizable compared to the sharpness he showed the rest of the world. the leader of onychinus, infamous for his ruthlessness, had spent countless nights awake in darkness, but tonight, he was the quiet observer, watching the woman he loved sleep, fiddling with the silver engagement ring encasing the garnet gemstone that matched his eyes, as [name] says.

with one last lingering glance, sylus stepped away, moving with stealth. the base was silent, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath his weight. he moved through the house as if it were an extension of his own body, quiet, measured, and in control.

sylus first made his way into the kitchen, his movements fluid, almost second nature. there was no rush. time felt slow in the stillness of the house.

the kitchen was bathed in the soft glow of the full moon, streaming through the window above the sink.

he moved toward the counter with a purpose, his eyes flicking over the well-worn teakettle sitting on the stove. it was old, probably older than he was, but it was hers, something simple and comforting that had stayed with her over the years. he reached for it, fingers brushing against the cool metal, his touch gentle, almost reverent. there was a familiarity in this gesture, a comforting rhythm he had come to know well.

he filled the kettle with water, the sound of the faucet’s stream breaking the stillness of the room. his hands moved carefully, the stream running steadily as he watched the water flow. he didn’t need to rush this, she wasn’t awake yet.

once the kettle was filled, he set it down on the stove, the soft clink of its bottom against the metal burner echoing in the quiet room. his movements were precise, measured, as he adjusted the burner’s knob to a low flame. he didn’t want to boil the water too quickly-it needed to heat slowly, gently, like the careful way he loved her.

while the water heated, he turned his attention to the tea itself. he knew her preferences by heart, how she liked it, how much sweetness she needed, and the exact way to steep it for the perfect flavor. he walked over to the small cabinet where her tea tins were stored. the light from the window caught the dusty lids, each one a different color and shape, a quiet reflection of her tastes.

he reached for the tin of the tea she preferred, his fingers brushing over the smooth metal before he twisted the lid off. the fragrant aroma of dried leaves and spices instantly filled the air, the scent rich and warm. he inhaled deeply, humming, letting the earthy smell wash over him, there was something grounding about it, something undeniably her. he pulled out the small metal scoop from the tin, and, with a practiced hand, measured out exactly two teaspoons of the tea leaves.

he tilted the tin just slightly, the loose leaves falling with a soft rustling sound, settling into the small silver scoop. the aroma was stronger now, filling the kitchen with a comforting warmth. he placed the scoop carefully into the small ceramic tea infuser, his fingers brushing against the cool ceramic as he closed the lid of the infuser with a soft click.

by now, the kettle had started to hum faintly, a sign the water was warming. the sound was almost hypnotic. he paused, staring at the faint wisp of steam rising from the spout, taking a moment to simply watch the kettle.

he turned the knob on the stove just a little more, watching the steam begin to grow more pronounced, swirling in the air. when the steam began to curl more steadily from the kettle, he lifted it with ease, his hand steady as he held it to the teapot. the sound of the water pouring was soft, steady, a soothing rhythm in the quiet room. the stream of hot water hit the metal of the infuser gently, the tea leaves unfurling slowly in the heat. he tilted the kettle slightly, just enough to allow the water to flow with purpose, but without splashing.

he watched as the water began to darken, the deep amber hue of the tea seeping into the liquid, swirling in delicate, graceful movements. the leaves danced slowly inside the metal infuser, expanding and twisting as they released their flavor into the water. he let it steep, counting the seconds in his mind, measuring the perfect time. not too long, not too short. just enough for the tea to reach that ideal balance of flavor.

he set the kettle back on the stove, his fingers resting lightly on the ceramic handle as the steam rose once again. a small smile flickered at the corner of his lips, something almost tender in the way he watched the tea take shape. for all the power he held in his hands, this was where he felt the most grounded.

after a few minutes, when the color had deepened to the perfect shade, he lifted the infuser carefully from the teapot and set it aside, a small drip of water falling from the edge. the tea was now dark, smooth, and rich, exactly as she liked it.

next, he reached for the honey jar, another small ritual that had become second nature. he unscrewed the lid, his fingers gently curling around the smooth glass. the honey was thick and golden, its sweetness filling the air as he drizzled just the right amount into the tea, watching it swirl in the dark liquid like a river of gold.

he gave it a gentle stir with the small silver spoon, the metal softly scraping against the edges of the cup, the motion rhythmic, soothing. the honey dissolved effortlessly, leaving the tea a perfect shade of amber with a slight gleam to it, like sunlight on a calm sea.

finally, he reached for the milk, taking care as he poured it into the cup, watching the milk swirl into the tea, softening the color and creating a smooth, creamy texture.

he set the milk back down, and then, as the final step, he carefully placed the cup on the saucer, the porcelain making a soft, satisfying click as it rested against the smooth surface.

with the tea prepared, he glanced one more time toward the bedroom, where she still lay asleep. he didn’t need to wake her yet. he walked over to the table, setting the cup down.

he set the tea on the counter, then moved to the closet to carefully fold her clothes, arranging them in the drawers with a precision he’d learned over the years. his hands moved with the same care as he adjusted the throw on the couch, smoothing the fabric from their earlier presence.

he took one more glance at [name] and the [jewelry color] ring sat around her left ring finger. he couldn’t shake the need to do something more. something that felt like a declaration of his devotion, aside from the present engagement.

sylus paused at the door, glancing back once more toward the bedroom. the faintest sound of her snoring reached him. she was still asleep. without a sound, he turned the knob, stepping out into the cool night air.

the air outside was crisp, sharp with the bite of the night, as he stood by his motorcycle in the driveway. everyone but him unaware of the mission he was about to undertake. sylus adjusted his leather gloves, the cool leather creaking softly, and then his eyes turned toward the sleek black and red yamaha motorcycle parked just inches away, waiting for him.

the motorcycle was as much a part of him as his own skin. every line of the machine was built for precision, for speed. it was powerful, dark, and capable of slicing through the quiet night with ease.

he ran a hand along the cold metal, feeling its smooth curves under his touch. there was something almost sacred about these moments, something intimate about riding through the empty streets, alone, with nothing but the hum of the engine and the wind in his face.

with a swift motion, he threw a leg over the seat, settling himself behind the handlebars. the engine growled to life under his touch, and he revved it once just a low, threatening growl that vibrated in his chest.

the was no need for a helmet tonight, he would be out of the city for only a short while, but the sense of freedom was already taking over him. with a twist of the throttle, the motorcycle shot forward, and the streets of the city seemed to vanish behind him.

the rush of the wind against his face was invigorating, a sharp contrast to the stillness that had settled in the house only moments ago. the n-109 zone blurred into the background as he sped through the deserted streets. his focus was razor-sharp, but there was a feeling of exhilaration in his chest, a quiet thrill that came from the sheer speed. the hum of the motorcycle’s engine beneath him was his only companion, its growl a steady reminder that he was alive, in control, and on a mission.

the streets of the n-109 zone soon faded behind him, replaced by darkened highways stretching out like endless ribbons of black. the closer he got to the outskirts of town, to linkon, the quieter the roads became. the hum of his motorcycle was the only sound that filled the air, broken only by the occasional passing of headlights from an unseen car in the distance.

he shifted gears smoothly, his body in perfect sync with the machine. the bike leaned gently into each curve of the road, carving through the dark like it was part of him.

as the n-109 zone disappeared completely replaced by the darkness of the open road, he felt a calm settle over him. the only sounds now were the thrum of the engine, the wind rushing past his ears, and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures in the night.

eventually, the road took a sharp bend, and in the distance, he saw the silhouette of a small greenhouse nestled at the foot of a hill, its glass windows glowing softly under the moonlight. he slowed as he approached, the low growl of his engine reverberating against the stillness of the night.

the greenhouse was a secret place, known only to few the flowers he sought were not the typical blooms found in a shop, but delicate, exotic flowers that required special care. these were the kind of flowers that would be perfect for her-rare, beautiful, something that couldn’t be easily replicated.

he parked the motorcycle just outside the greenhouse, the faint screech of the kickstand breaking the night’s silence. stepping off the bike, he removed his gloves, his fingers grazing the cool metal of the handlebar one last time before he moved toward the greenhouse.

the door creaked softly as he pushed it open. the soft scent of flowers, earthy and sweet, filled his senses as he stepped inside. the greenhouse was dimly lit by hanging lanterns, casting an ethereal glow over the rows of plants, their petals glowing faintly in the soft light. it was a small world of quiet beauty, tucked away from the world. you’d love it, and he vowed he’d bring you here, one day.

the florist, an elderly man who rarely spoke, was already waiting for him. he didn’t ask questions, he never did. sylus wasn’t here for small talk, he was here for the flowers. the ones that would take his fiancée by surprise. the ones that would remind her that, no matter how dangerous his world was, there was always room for beauty.

sylus made his selection carefully, examining the blooms with the same precision and thoughtfulness he put into everything he did. each flower was chosen with a quiet reverence, like it was a treasure meant just for her. the colors, the texture, the softness of the petals, they all had to be perfect.

the old man carefully wrapped the flowers in brown paper, securing them with twine, and handed them over. no need for words. sylus nodded once, his hand brushing lightly against the flowers as he took them, feeling their delicate weight in his hands.

with the bouquet carefully secured, he made his way back to the motorcycle, his movements as smooth and deliberate as ever. he climbed back onto the bike, the flowers resting gently in the compartment behind him. the engine roared to life with a twist of the throttle, and he sped off into the night once more, heading back toward the city, the road ahead still open and endless.

the road stretched out before him, but now, he wasn’t just escaping into the night. no, he was racing back toward her. toward the place where, in the quiet of the early morning, he would leave a simple bouquet as a promise.

he parked the motorcycle just outside the door, the engine’s hum slowly fading into the quiet. as he approached the door, he moved with the utmost care, his footsteps soft on the wooden floors, he didn’t want to wake her. she needed her rest, and he was content with the silence between them. the n-109 zone might be filled with noise and chaos, but here, in this space, there was peace.

the bouquet was placed gently on the dining table, its fragrance filling the air, competing only with the soft glow of the moonlight streaming in from the window. he admired the way the light bathed the flowers in a soft, ethereal glow. perfect. just like her.

his hands moved with precision as he arranged the flowers, his fingers brushing lightly over the delicate petals. each bloom was positioned just so, every stem cut to the perfect length. his eyes were focused entirely on the task, the quiet sound of his breath mingling with the rustling of the petals as he worked. but his mind was elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of her.

he thought of the way she would smile when she awoke, the warmth of her touch, the way her laughter filled the dark space like a melody. sage was his light in a world of shadows, her presence grounding him, steadying him.

he hummed as he set the last flower into place, ensuring the arrangement was perfect. his fingers hovered over the petals, smoothing them gently, making sure everything was aligned with the same precision he applied to every aspect of his life.

his eyes lingered on the arrangement for a moment longer, before returning to her sleeping form in his bed, bathed in the same gentle light from the window.

she was so peaceful, so beautiful, her chest still rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

he stood there for a long moment, simply watching her sleep, his heart beating steadily in the quiet of the night. a part of him wanted to stay, to be close to her, to allow her to wake up and see the flowers. but for now, he was content to leave her to her rest, the bouquet serving as his silent message to her.

with a final glance, his eyes softened, and he stepped back into the living room. his footsteps faded into the quiet night, leaving the bouquet as his only mark. he knew she would find it in the morning. she’d wake, and she would see the flowers. and in them, she would the love he gave her, wrapped in petals and leaves, as constant as the night itself.

the morning light seeped in through the blinds, its golden hue painting the room with a soft warmth. it felt different from the usual harsh light of daybreak, like the sun itself was coaxing her awake, rather than pulling her from the depths of sleep.

[name] stirred beneath the raven-colored covers, the familiar weight of the blankets feeling like a protective cocoon around her. her body moved in lazy stretches, muscles loosening after the quiet night. a soft yawn escaped her lips, her eyes fluttering open, still heavy with sleep. she let the moment stretch, disdaining having to leave the bed.

her gaze shifted toward the edge of the room, expecting to see the familiar, dark silhouette of sylus still sleeping beside her. but the bed was empty. she hadn’t heard him leave, and his side of the bed was cold, the sheets undisturbed except for the small imprint where he’d been. she didn’t feel alarmed, he was often, if not always, woke before her, slipping away quietly to start his night-day, a habit she had grown used to over time. but still, it was sometimes strange to wake up alone. especially without him alerting her beforehand.

for a moment, she just lay there, covering her entire body back with the large black comforter. the quiet of the room wrapped around her like a soft blanket, her mind still half-dreaming. her thoughts drifted, lingering on the odd feeling of absence before she shifted, her feet meeting the cool wood of the floor.

she stretched her legs, the muscles a little sore from the long hours spent in bed, but a smile tugged at her lips as she rose. she could hear nothing but the faint hum of the house, its vastness almost suffocating at times. their home, this enormous place that seemed to swallow up the sound of footsteps, was still and silent, like the world had forgotten it.

as she walked toward the kitchen, the floor beneath her feet creaked in protest, a familiar sound, and she paused for a moment to listen. the place felt hollow without his presence nearby, the distance between them almost tangible despite the house’s overwhelming size.

it was then, as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, that she saw the flowers. a small, delicate arrangement sat on the dining table beneath the window, next to a pitcher of chamomile tea, bathed in the soft light of the early morning. her breath caught in her throat, and she blinked, momentarily confused. the flowers hadn’t been there the night before.

she moved closer, her bare feet padding softly across the cool, dark wood, the air around her smelling faintly of floral sweetness. each bloom was carefully arranged, and the bright, vibrant colors stood out vividly against the simple backdrop of the dark table. she could feel her pulse quicken, a sense of warmth rushing over her.

she reached out, her fingers brushing against the delicate petals. she hadn’t needed to see him to know he had been here. the arrangement, the quiet care with which it had been placed, spoke volumes.

her fingers gently lifted the small card tucked among the flowers, and her heart fluttered again as she read the simple words:

“for my kitten”

she smiled a soft smile, she had left so much behind when she had come to him, her old life, including the hunter’s association which she had once been loyal to.

and here she was now, standing in the onychinus base, her fingers brushing the soft petals of the flowers she’d received from the most dangerous man around, a silent reminder that despite the dangers of the world, despite the chaos and darkness that came with it, he was here with her always.

a final glance at the bouquet, and she exhaled softly, a feeling of peace washing over her.

her mind wandered back over the past few weeks, no, months. she let herself drift through the memories, each one unfolding slowly in her mind like a delicate scroll as she fiddled with the [jewelry color] ring.

the door creaked open later into the morning, and just like that, he was there. she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. his presence filled the room, solid and unwavering.

he didn’t speak at first. he simply stood in the doorway, watching her with those intense crimson eyes of his. those eyes softened as they met hers, and she felt the pulse of something shift in the air between them.

a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and her heart fluttered in response to his gaze. "i love them," she said softly, her voice warm, filled with affection that flowed between them like an unspoken bond.

his gaze deepened, that sharpness in his eyes mixing with something softer, something more vulnerable. he closed the door behind him with a soft click, the sound of it final, sealing them in this moment. then, with deliberate quietness, he stepped forward, his movements fluid, pulling him closer to her.

as he approached, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers, intertwining their fingers. the contact sent a shiver down her spine.

"you know, you deserve so much more than just flowers," he murmured, his voice low and rough, brushing against her.

he said it like he meant it, like he had a thousand things he wanted to give her, none of them wrapped in paper or tied with a bow. just him, all of him.

the space between them disappeared. the air growing thick, almost too much to breathe, but neither of them pulled away. his hand caressed her jaw, tilting her face to meet his, and the way he looked at her made her knees soften, her heart stutter.

when he kissed her, it wasn’t a question. it was a claim. soft at first, yes, but only because he was savoring her. like he’d waited long enough, and now that he had her, he refused to rush. his lips moved against hers with slow heat, coaxing her open, drawing her in until her hands found his shoulders, anchoring herself to him like she might float away.

the kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against hers, and the sound she made was small and involuntary intimate. he swallowed it with a groan that vibrated through his, and her, chest.

their bodies aligned like puzzle pieces rediscovering one another, every curve and plane syncing with ease. his hands roamed with purpose, sliding down her sides, over the swell of her hips, thumbs teasing the edge of her waistband. there was something reverend in his touch, like he was worshipping her with his fingertips. beneath the tenderness was heat and need, restrained only by his respect for her…barely.

clothes became an afterthought, peeled away with kisses and soft gasps, discarded between hungry touches and whispered affirmations.

his hands were big, veined and warm, mapping her body like he was memorizing her all over again, like each inch of skin was sacred. she arched into his palms, into his mouth, into the weight of him pressing her down just enough to feel owned, not overpowered.

he took his time. there was no rush, only indulgence.

her body moved beneath his in the kitchen like it had been waiting for this. the way his fingers traced her inner thigh. the way his mouth traveled the line of her collarbone, slow, open-mouthed kisses leaving fire in their path. the way he moaned her name like it was the only word that ever mattered.

and when he finally slid his thick length into her slowly, with a groan muffled into her shoulder, it felt like something inside her cracked open. she gasped, clinging to him, as they both stilled for a moment, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.

after a nod of reassurance from [name], sylus slid the rest of himself into her hole. they moved together, finding rhythm and intention. every thrust, every soft bite was a confession.

every whisper,

“yes”

“don’t stop”

“god, you feel so good”

she gave herself to him fully, not just her body, but her trust, her love, her vulnerability. and he received it like he’d been waiting a lifetime to be worthy of it.

his hand cradled her face even as his hips moved with a strength that made her tremble. he kissed her through her moans. he whispered things he’d never said to anyone else.

she cried out his name, as she unraveled, clinging to him as he followed, shuddering with a breathless groan that spilled against her lips.

in the quiet aftermath, her bare skin draped over his chest, one leg hooked around his, her fingers tracing lazy spirals along the lines of muscles. his arm held her tight, grounding her like gravity. the only light came from the afternoon sun spilling in through the windows, casting them in a golden glow.

his eyes lingered on her face as if trying to remember every detail for the rest of his life.

“i’ve got you,” he whispered, voice rough and honest, a sigh, as if he almost didn’t believe it himself.

she chuckled, smiling against his skin. “i know.”

and in that moment, he closed his eyes, his heart full, knowing that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

~gg ♡

[brnbeexx]

“Push Back.” Sophia Laforteza x F!reader – ⚓

Y/N and Sophia have never gotten along. Every conversation feels like a challenge, every glance a dare. But one night, the tension finally snaps. Alone in a dimly lit hallway, words turn into whispers, and a heated rivalry becomes something neither of them expected — or can resist.

a/n: kind of short, but I really wanted to write something with Sophia and this song

warnings: maybe suggestive. rushed, not proofread

Y/N hated Sophia Laforteza.

Okay — hate was a strong word. Y/N disliked her. Intensely.

From the moment they met, Sophia had been nothing but smug smiles, sharp words, and perfectly timed eye-rolls. Every interaction between them felt like a sparring match, their conversations dripping with sarcasm and challenge. It didn’t help that Sophia was effortlessly beautiful, with her full lips, bright eyes, and a confidence that filled every room she walked into.

Their friends said the tension between them was “palpable.” Y/N called it annoying.

It didn’t matter where they were — group hangouts, rehearsals, random parties — Sophia always found a way to get under her skin.

Like tonight.

The music was too loud, the drinks too strong, and the tension between them had been simmering for hours. Their groups had merged for a night out in Vegas, and somehow Y/N had gotten stuck on the same side of the booth as Sophia. The air between them crackled like static electricity, every accidental brush of their knees making Y/N’s breath hitch.

Sophia noticed. Of course, she noticed. She always noticed. And she was smug about it. “You always frown this much, or is it just when you’re around me?” Sophia teased, her voice low enough for only Y/N to hear.

Y/N clenched her jaw. “Only when I’m trying to drown out the sound of your voice.”

Sophia laughed — a soft, rich sound that curled around Y/N’s spine and made her grip her drink tighter.

“Sure,” Sophia said, tilting her head. “You’re totally unaffected.”

Y/N turned away, hoping the heat crawling up her neck wasn’t visible. She needed air. Or another drink. Or maybe both.

She shoved out of the booth, muttering something about needing the bathroom, and pushed through the crowd. Her heart pounded as she leaned against the sink, gripping the porcelain edges.

She hated Sophia Laforteza.

Right?

The bathroom door swung open, and Y/N caught Sophia’s reflection in the mirror. Of course.

“You okay?” The filipina asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I’m fine,” Y/N muttered, turning on the faucet. Sophia raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve been glaring at me all night.”

Y/N scoffed. “Trust me, it’s not on purpose.”

Sophia stepped closer. “Really? Because it feels like you’re always paying attention to me.”

Y/N froze. The air shifted, growing heavier. Sophia was close now, their reflections nearly touching in the mirror. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off her skin, her pulse racing in her throat.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Y/N muttered, but her voice wavered.

Sophia smiled — that infuriating, knowing smile — and leaned in, her breath warm against Y/N’s neck. “Why are you quiet now?” she whispered, her voice dripping with that infuriatingly false concern.

Y/N turned to face her, their noses nearly brushing. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure Sophia could hear it. “Why do you always have to push me?”

Sophia’s gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d push back.”

And Y/N did. Right into her arms.

Their lips crashed together, hot and desperate, weeks of tension snapping all at once. Sophia’s hands tangled in Y/N’s hair, pulling her closer, and Y/N melted against her, every inch of her body buzzing.

Shortness of breath set in, but that didn't stop them.

Sophia's hands flew up the other woman's body, reaching her hips. She lifted her onto her lap and sat her on the sink, her hands warm on her full thighs. Squeezing lightly, Sophia moved one hand up the body covered by the tight dress, her left hand squeezing Y/N's waist, feeling a sigh against her mouth.

Before the touches could turn into something else, Y/N broke away with some difficulty, Sophia's lips still searching for the other's.

Without saying anything, she just placed a hand on Sophia's chest, distancing her slightly.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and dazed, Sophia smirked. “Took you long enough.”

Y/N laughed, pressing her forehead against Sophia’s. “Shut up.”

Maybe she didn’t hate Sophia Laforteza after all.

[temporalhiccup]

There are many different reasons to play ttrpgs, and sometimes creative catharsis is one of them.

Certainly it's a reason's Bluebeard's Bride is one of my favorite games, or why it's fun for me to play emotionally vulnerable characters in Bite Marks and Apocalypse Keys.

A couple of months ago I started playing DIE with some close friends, and a couple of new players I haven't had a chance to play with much. But it's a group that's played with each other often, and DIE has a really emotionally rich and complex premise we were excited for: "In DIE, you play a group of authentically flawed and desperate real-world people (Personas) who are sucked into a cursed roleplaying game and take on the form of heroes, villains and power players (Paragons)."

So I made a conscious decision to create a transmasc character and delve consciously and deeply into the act of catharsis. I have played trans characters before, (arguably ttrpgs are one of the ways I explored if I was trans but that's another story), but this was the first time I wanted to pull at the threads of my own confusion and sadness, trauma and regret. To work through my grief.

In real life, it's difficult to put into words the grief I am going through with my parents. It's a complex issue, but one of them is that my parents have always seen as me as their daughter, and all three of us cannot imagine me being anything else to them. My father has always pointedly interacted with my brother as a son, and has always faltered when I failed to act like the daughter.

It's hard to grieve because there are thousands of subtle nuances—their love for me, borne from endless sacrifice and hope, also places chains on me. To break those chains is to break them, to keep those chains on is to break me. I have broken myself over the decades, again and again, and there is never a shape that will please us three.

So for DIE I created a more intense caricature of fatherly trauma. Almost cartoonish in his abuse, with no room for nuance. Somehow in describing the black and white nature of this fictional father, and how it shaped my character, it's easier for me to see the shades of grey that my real father is. It's easier to find the shadows of me there too.

I realized today that in DIE, this traumatizing figure also contains the fear I had. Conditioned to be a woman, where my very existence can trigger violence from men. There are many reasons it took me so long to know I was trans, but one of those reasons was that I could not imagine taking on the shape of an oppressor.

It didn't matter that I knew many men who were gentle, loving, and kind. It didn't matter that what men are does not have to be defined by the patriarchy. Men were dangerous until I knew better. Men could betray my trust and become dangerous once they got to know me. Why would I want to take on the shape of something dangerous and harmful?

Today I explored a part of that. As an Emotion Knight my character draws upon the emotion of loathing—what better way to draw upon an aspect of gender dysphoria? To become strong, to fight, I had to give in just enough to my father's voice, its whispers from the war hammer in my hand. I had to take on his cruelty, the loathing I had for him and myself. I described the danger of falling into unthinking violence, to protect what matters to me. I was standing on the precipice, knowing I was a breath away from going too far.

All of this made it easier to see my real father, standing at the end of a corridor I will never reach. It feels like if I walk towards him, the corridor will stretch on and on, made of all the doors of all the daughters I could have been for him. One of them, any of them, would be better than what I am now.

That moment of catharsis felt breathless. I could feel myself falling towards the doors. Then I looked at the other players, and I could see all of them feeling for my character. Feeling for his pain, for his hope. Watching him stumble towards the edge. I could feel their hearts surrounding mine.

I don't remember what I said to Sherri, in character. I know I wanted her to pull my character back into this fictional moment. I know I wanted Sherri to pull me back into this reality, with her. Away from the corridor. It was enough that I saw the corridor for what it is, that I knew all its doors. That I knew they could never be opened.

This dance of catharsis feels safe. It's hard to describe how it's still fun, and wonderful, to connect to my friends' characters. To check-in and feel out if we were still having fun, trusting in the play, trusting in each other.

The game session ended hours ago, and we'll play again next week. But the corridor is still with me, and I feel it stretching behind me. I feel all its doors. When I close my eyes, I see my father's back, walking away from me.

Maybe next week I'll try walking down that corridor. Maybe I'll call out to my father, knowing he won't turn around. Maybe I'll leave it behind. Maybe I won't do anything for now, because grief takes time. I don't know.

I just know that I'm very grateful to be here, to be loved, to play. I'm grateful for the stories we tell together, and how it can help us retell our own stories about ourselves.

This story of grief is hard, but I'm grateful. It means I chose to survive, to live, to be me.

It hurts to choose myself over my parents love for me, but I'm glad I'm doing it. I'm choosing all the people who love me, who see me when I cannot yet clearly see myself.

[lotus-slumbers]

Interactive Yandere! Fae Story [INTRODUCTION/START]

Yandere! King Fae Husbands x Darling! GN Reader

Content Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, death.

Author note: Trying something new! What wins the poll will be the next part posted. ���

Arathorn was lovestruck. If he was any less of the man he was, he would've been down on his hands and knees, begging for you. He stood in earnest, the cold expanse of this unnatural world dividing you both. His stance was strong, even here; the gateway between the human world and the Feywild. Unkind and unloving, nothing could grow here and survive but they had crossed the threshold before and it hadn't shaken them. Perhaps they couldn't feel the crushing weight of this plane the same way that you could, smothering beneath it.

This was your only chance back to the moral, human world. All you had to do was throw yourself back into the starry waves that covered the wall and hope you didn't drown underneath them, that it was the portal you had sought after in this labyrinth. Your life relied on the riddles of creatures you could have never imagined to exist before— and the hope that you had solved their riddles right.

"We have reordered nature, we've turned the world upside down and we have done it all for you. Just fear us, love us, do as we say," Arathorn crooned, eyes beseeching, tearing through any barriers you could have put between you both to protect from them. You, he saw you completely, in absolute undress. How much closer to the gaze of God could you be? 

Iliphar spoke then, finishing his counterpart's sentence. His hand outstretched to your own, becking you to cross the distance to them. "And we will be your slave. Anything you want."

The promise of their world is in your hands. It was an authentic promise, they would let you have it all, anything, as long as you stayed near and kept close underneath them. Obeyed them and never strayed. A life of prosperity, of more of anything than you could have imagined, in a place more rich in wonder than your world. Once, it had seemed a small cost for such a thing. Daydreams of it in your struggling, mundane life, far before you had been snatched away in the night by them like a helpless maiden in an old fairytale. Had they replaced you with another as well, so that nobody would come looking for you? A wild changeling, leaving nothing but madness behind for your loved ones. 

Even if you returned, could you live with the maddening knowledge of their world? With nobody who would believe you except the outcaste and the crazy, who you couldn't be brought to believe a single word from yourself? Once, you'd heard a story from your grandmother about the same thing. A young woman went missing, only to reappear years later, in the same clothes she'd been wearing the day of her disappearance and not seeming to be aged a day. Gone mad, her death hadn't been long after her return. Would that be you, if you even survived the trip back?

Besides, you've seen the extent of their power. You're seeing it now, as they stand in this place right in front of you without so much as a shiver or sweat. They wouldn't let you go, they would go back in after you again and again if they had to. They already called you their spouse and to the end of all ends was their vow to you.

Their pleading was nothing more than a courtesy.

A/n: The poll is up for three days. I hope you enjoyed this little drabble and look forward to more, as well as some requests that I've had in my inbox being finished up soon. Sorry for the wait, life is a rollercoaster. 💜

Production guide (from an illiterate woman, god be with ye)

Arathorn - Uh-ruh-a-thorn OR AARRah-TH-RN

Iliphar - L-uh-far OR ill-uh-far

Or whatever you make up in your head while reading. That's valid too.

[frekyaka]

Another (old) oc

I forgot to post these a few days ago but I redrew my first eltingville oc I did like when I first got into the pilot for the first time? (Legit butterflies on billy ballsack..) she was supposedly scrapped because in my opinion I wasn't really feeling her and also because it's quite self indulging to the point I'm cringing on myself so I had to drop her ass, but I like how I did her hair so she's back in business BAAAABYYY

(also boken inglish forgib me 😢)

First design (I was making an introduction thing and gave up halfway)

Lazy redraww (I made her a bad bitch in the wte vers like damn..?? what even is my sexuality anymore 💀)

I guess background info? (I'll make one for Dane, yes I'm looking at you @/indohyusbarf 🫵😋)

warning: very lengthy.. ?? I'm just yapping at this point.. sorry bros.. got too into it.. 😭

Valentine 'Val' Cooper is one of the popular girls in eltingville high or whatever. She's related to Joe (crazy..), and works in Joe's comic book store as a punishment for her rich ahh parents because she was caught in a major scandal and to also learn how the real world operates, be in shes excellent for the job as she casually rips people off 5 times the price, she's a business woman, just like her parents, and uses it in her ability to get more money and shit, (casually steals money from the register). She's perfect for the job but she has a complete intolerance to geeks and nerds (she doesn't know the difference and would not care to even correct herself, as if on purpose), saying that they are the disease and should get rid off in this orb of a planet.

Reasons and her views on geeks or nerds in general??:

She places immense value on social status, popularity, and outward appearances, carrying a deep-seated belief that people should conform to mainstream ideals, often viewing those who stray from the norm (especially geeks and nerds) as socially inept or unworthy of respect, being a 'geek' signifies obsession with niche or unconventional interests that diverge from what they consider acceptable or admirable. Rather than deeply engaging with any subjects outside their comfort zone, she participates only in trends they deem acceptable (within popular culture), she's uncomfortable with the people who get so obsessed (in her opinion to a borderline extent), that this discomfort she feels manifests into having bitchy judgmental attitude toward those who become borderline obsessed with their hobbies, such as video games, comic book fandoms, or technology (typical geeky shittt, like damn girl you hate ppl having fun??)

Working in Joe's shop/having to interact with geeks/nerds:

When confronted with someone who has a deep fascination or obsession, Val's reaction will be overly critical or dismissive, rolling her eyes, interrupt, or change the subject abruptly (are you gonna pay or not? 🙄), believing that engaging in such conversations is a waste of time or even flat out embarrassing. She firmly believes that social interactions should adhere to certain unwritten rules, and those who openly geek out about their interests defy those norms. She finds it very difficult to tolerate long conversations about niche topics that they don't understand or enjoy, perceiving it as self-indulgent and inconsiderate to the person they're talking to. (Neurotypical mindset .. sighs)

Finally, her experience with the gang (the elting shits!!):

Bill - she hates geeks

Josh - she hates fat geeks

Jerry - she hates socially awkward geeks

Pete - she hates .. geeks

I'll make an in-depth of their relationships one day 💀

Dane (oc) - she hates gay people, geeky religious geeks

Her relationship with Dane: (a little snippet of Dane's personality)

They have a sort of rivalry, more on to Dane than Val (She could not care less!! 🤣🤣). Dane hates her guts so much (because in his opinion she's just like the serpent in Adam and Eve),which Val takes it in her advantage to humiliate him if possible.

Back then, Val tried to flirt with Dane when they first met, which Dane pulled the fucking bible and recited bit by bit from the passage

1 Thessalonians 4:3-8..

straight up yapping away, straight up yelling it mostly to himself and Val is just taking it in.. So then the next time they meet, Val is either notoriously bullying him or ignores him, which both infuriates Dane (boy make up your damn mind.)

HYPOCRITE PAST:

In her younger years, she proudly identified as an 'otaku,' immersing herself in the world of Japanese pop culture. She adored reading shoujo manga and watching romance shows. She dives her interest in crossdressing too, typically dressing up as beautiful anime men (ikemen). However, as she transitioned into high school and embraced a more popular persona, her relationship with these interests began to shift.

Her passionate love for anime, manga, and crossdressing that once brought her joy seems to clash with the image she has cultivated as the popular girl (due to her parents influence to her and the school). In her sudden lift in being part of her new social circle, she has distanced herself from anything related to geek culture, adopting a dismissive attitude toward those who continue to embrace it. What was once a source of pride has now transformed into a source of embarrassment, leading her to criticize and even resent those who identify as geeks, nerds, or otakus.

She immerses herself in being part of a clique, classic hookups and drama, she engages her watch of sitcoms,and other mainstream movies and shows within her new social context. Instead of engaging in crossdressing, she now focuses on wearing stylish and sexy bad bitch clothes in typical popular and societal fashion (you go girl YEAAAHHHHHH)

She often looks down on those who continue to immerse themselves in the culture she has left behind, failing to recognize the beauty of the very interests that once brought her happiness.

[comfortless]

would König ever agree to be a sugar baby? 🤔 most people write him as the rich one in the relationship so I'm curious if the dynamic can be reversed

you’re calling to my weakness of König being taken care of for once here…!! cue König being the absolute worst sugar baby that has ever existed (lovebombing!). implied age gap (König is maybe 24-26 here, reader is anything above), porn mention, masturbation, slightly suggestive but mostly fluff. minors do not interact.

Begrudgingly, a younger König probably would.

He isn’t sure how these relationships even work. There’s plenty of money in his bank accounts, he’s got a decent enough apartment, a car, (some) clothes that aren’t riddled with holes or tears... Hell, there isn’t even really anything that he wants. His curiosity only begins to spike the second his thumb stops its scrolling, lands on a picture of her, and his world comes to a grinding halt.

The woman in the photo is the most gorgeous, sweet creature he has ever lain eyes upon. Just the image of her smiling softly at the camera, her hands placed in her lap whilst she’s seated on a couch is enough to send his heart hammering. She doesn’t look the part of some vapid, cruel thing he had anticipated on a site like this. No, the woman only looks gentle, her eyes are even a little sad… She's all alone, her bed is cold, and König is already hard at the thought of how this could go if he had just a little luck in his corner.

He makes the decision to message her without thinking. It’s late, she probably wouldn’t even see it until morning, and he doubts a woman this cute would want to bother with him anyway.

A polite, articulate: hey do you wanna fuck

Followed by: you don’t even have to pay me XD

He settles for pulling up some porn video with the faces just out of frame, jacks off to the hypothetical of it being she and him one day and falls asleep with his phone on his chest and come stains in his boxers.

There’s nothing about him that’s deserving of this woman’s time nor her response, but he wakes to the chiming of his phone and a sweet message from her anyway. One in which she asks him if he would like to meet for drinks so that they can talk, she clarifies that she will pay, and even tells him that she thinks he’s handsome.

Handsome. Something only his oma had called him when she patted him on the cheek as a boy.

His response is insistent, demanding almost, when he suggests that she come to him, meet immediately that same day. Who cares if it’s only afternoon by the time she arrives, he could go for a beer and a sweet, tight pussy at any hour, doesn’t hold himself back from telling her this either while he grins at his phone like he’s possessed - all teeth and wild eyes.

There’s a part of him that believes this woman will be scared off, stand him up entirely and block his account, but to his surprise, she does actually show up. She’s there before even he arrives, seated in a booth at the back of the bar with his order and her own placed neatly on the table in front of her.

His chest feels too tight when he places himself across from her, all cockiness diminished in light of something he hasn’t felt since he was two feet shorter and more than a decade younger.

He’s fucking petrified.

His to-be-sugar-mommy eases him with her softspoken voice, going over the less than rigid terms of their agreement and praising his looks as well as his ability to handle his alcohol.

She isn’t asking for sex, just someone to care for. She tells him that he’s beautiful, while he feels like a smear on the pavement in comparison to her. And fuck. He isn’t handling his alcohol well at all, he’s just nervous and needs to keep his hands and his mouth busy, because all he wants to do is bend this adorable woman who compares his ugly face to that of an archangel’s over this table and fuck her like a stallion, spit such filth into her hair that no amount of repentance could ever make her feel clean again.

He can’t. He can’t when she suggests in that same cooing voice that she take him shopping for boots that are less scuffed, offers her hand to him as though it’s natural for a lady so ethereal to tether herself to a beast. Her hand is so dainty and cold, whereas he feels like a boiler on the cusp of bursting the second their fingers slot between one another.

His head is a mess of thoughts, memories of being dragged by the collar to attend services with his oma where he never prayed. Shit, maybe he should start, because surely he has someone or something to thank for this, for her.

Their first date becomes the strangest ordeal of his life as she seats him on a bench and helps him to try on boots as though he were only a boy who didn’t yet know how to tie his laces. She even kneels before him and ties them up herself before placing his foot back on the store’s floor; doesn’t even comment on the obvious hole in his sock or the awkward, longing way that he’s staring at her, only presses her chin to his knee and smiles up at him with so much affection he thinks he might actually pass out for a moment. She buys the ones he likes, three pairs of them, and doesn’t even bat an eye at the price.

That’s when he decides it’s all too much: he tells her that he can buy his own stuff, that he doesn’t need her to do it or tie his shoelaces or anything because he’s a man, after all. He should be showering her in flowers and soft dresses, paying for her nails and hair dye.

His lady only laughs and asks if he wants to come home with her, he doesn’t have to stay, just sit with her for a bit. So… he follows her home like a sulking shadow, hovering just behind her lost entirely in his head. He had barked at her like a rabid dog and she still brings him back to her place, strokes her thumb against the back of his hand, offers him little smiles of assurance when he goes completely silent.

He wants to hate it, wants to tell her something dirty and toss a stack of cash her way when she opens her door for him. Instead, he finds his head in her lap while she pets his face, running the tips of her fingers over every scar.

Her compliments are the most ridiculous, beautiful things that he’s ever heard, ranging from outright calling him her angel to telling him that he’s charming, that the scars are pretty… He loves every second spent with her like this, with each soft brush of her fingers as they pet the top of his head down to his neck, the way she hums some pleasing song to him when she massages at his shoulder.

He’s never been pampered or coddled like this before, and it feels good. The boner threatening to tear its way out of his pants isn’t something he’s proud of this time; he only wants this sweet little fairy to feel as comfortable as she’s making him.

Maybe he could do that if she let him pull up her skirt and make love to her: he could be gentle if he tried, play with her hair and her clit while he slowly spears her open until she’s pliant and panting, take it slow until she comes around his cock and her pussy calls him to utterly defile it as well as the rest of her. There wouldn’t be a part of her left untouched.

When she asks to be held instead, he swears he’s getting all of that and then some: she puts herself right in his lap, her chest to his and her legs parted just enough to straddle his hips. Her head tips forward against his shoulder as his fingers dance across her back, squeezing at her hips before smoothing back up her sides. She’s so soft… the most pleasing thing he’s ever touched, smoother than gunmetal and the flat of a blade. The way she smells is even sweeter, like spiced tea and blooming flowers.

She doesn’t even slap him when he bucks upward against her pussy, grinds the throbbing bulge in his pants against the place that she’s warmest. No, she only kisses his cheek and tells him what a wonderful day she’s having, what a gentleman he is even if he knows that part is certainly a lie.

Her breasts are soft in his hands when he finds the courage to squish them, against his cheek when she guides his head down to her. She pets his hair, tells him how she’s always wanted to hold a man like this… that she’s been waiting for someone exactly like him for longer than she even knows.

She even laughs when she asks, “You think that I’m pathetic, don’t you?”

All thoughts of just getting a good fuck out of this woman die someplace beneath his skull. Who would ever even think to call someone so lovely and kind pathetic? He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything more than protecting her fragile little heart and letting her stroke at him like an overgrown kitten, not anymore.

“Nein… no…”

He swears he could almost see tears in her eyes when she shoots him a glance then. Appreciative, contented tears that he prays she won’t shed. He’s a man, he’s not going to cry, but… fuck, he might if she did right now. Everything feels so doughy and warm, cotton candy and summer rain when his grip around her tightens to pull her in even closer.

She wipes away those unshed tears as she nuzzles against his cheek, slowly rubs her nose there and leaves a trail of kisses up to his temple. His mind is devoid of anything but outright infatuation, some impromptu dedication. He would tell her right now he loved her and know wholeheartedly that he meant it, but love isn’t in the agreement.

His lady only just wants to give herself away for nothing in return, not for a dick to make her cry or his own money layering her pockets; she just wants to pretend he’s her own personal angel, bury him in all the love and gifts she’s never been able to give to anyone else.

He watches her when she falls asleep curled up in his arms, takes in the way she smiles even in dreaming when her soft breaths break up the quiet. He presses his mouth to hers until her eyelids flutter and her breath catches in her little throat. She wakes to the kiss and only reciprocates it with the same softness she’s displayed with every prior action.

Her lips part to take him in, and she doesn’t even moan when he laps into her mouth with a grunt. There’s no lust in this for her: only the most senseless adoration, all love and tenderness, the things he’s yet to properly learn.

She tastes like vanilla and honey, her tongue yields beneath his own… and finally he pulls himself away, staring into her eyes like he might find a treasure there, as if he wasn’t already convinced that every part of her wasn’t something divine and holy.

“Do you have any others?,” he asks, devoid of any trepidation.

There’s not a care in the world of how she might view him. He’s convinced, certain that whatever he’s feeling has to be mutual. There are butterflies fluttering like the gentlest tornado in the pits of his stomach, and just by the wounded look she gives him then he just knows she must feel them too.

“Only you.”

“Gut… gut.”

There’s another kiss, one that is initiated by the both of them and steals all breath from his lungs. It’s not her harboring tears this time, but him who feels the dull sting, separates from her and turns his head away to rub at his face. He knows that he’s the pathetic one now, burdened down with the thought that he’s head over heels for a woman for just treating him as if he deserves anything at all.

Damn her for the way she readily reaches for him to pull him back in, to kiss at the outer corner of his eye and tell him in such a quiet way that she knows… In just a day she’s noticed him more than anyone, given more than anyone.

When he guides her back towards his mouth with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, could he really be faulted for whispering a confession? “Ich bin in dich verliebt,” spoken nearly inaudibly before he shuts her up with his lips over hers.

There’s no need for an answer, he knows the agreement had nothing to do with love. She wouldn’t accept his money in turn, but maybe a heart would suffice. He promises he’ll send her letters each time he’s deployed between mashing his mouth against her own, swears he will come running back to her when those greedy kisses slip down to her jaw. This sweet dove only laughs and squirms in his lap, tells him she would love to see him any time before he shushes her again.

Shouldn’t sweet things like this know not to feed a stray?

[ssivinee]

✧Forever Yours✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x Dancer! F Reader: You and Bada were quite a well-known duo within the dance world. You two grew up together and have been inseparable ever since, but as you drifted apart, you met again on Street Woman Fighter 2.

Word Count: 4.8k

Note: Bada has been a simp for you since you were kids. You both have the same energy and vibe. (you mainly dom Bada tho🤭)

Character Vision Board

For your entire life, dance was all you knew, and growing up with Bada helped you realize what your passion was at a young age. You two met at the age of 4 during one of Bada's first dance classes, and you two instantly became friends once the dance teacher pointed out how much you two looked alike despite not being related.

"Lee Bada, Kim Y/n, are you two cousins?" The teacher asks, looking at her clipboard, then looking back and forth between the two of you.

As the both of you shook your head no, the teacher pouts, "But you two look so much alike?"

Bada then glances at you, standing in front of the class, looking very prideful with a grin. You wore an oversized light blue graphic tee, grey joggers, white sneakers, and a white beanie. In Bada's eyes, you were the coolest in the class, AND she was compared to you?

Now that was a huge ego booster.

Your eyes meet hers, and before Bada can even try to avoid eye contact, you give a wave so she returns a shy smile.

"For the dance today, we will be working in partners, so please find someone to work with," the dance teacher says. Bada's eyes began to wander, worried that she might not even find a partner, but she felt a tap on her shoulder. She was shocked to see you, "Bada, right? I'm Y/n. Would you wanna be my partner today?"

Bada's eyes widen in excitement as she nods. It was the best choice on your end because you two were at the top of your dance class that day. During your next dance class together, you decided to stand next to Bada rather than go to your usual front spot. Throughout each class, the both of you realized you had so much in common and had similar interests.

From then on, you two did everything together. You two, ironically, went to the same schools, which encouraged the time you spent with each other. All the events in your life, like dance club, projects, homework, studying, group hangouts, and dance classes, were all spent with Bada by your side.

Things took a turn in your friendship during high school. You began to be attracted to girls, which confused Bada then. Sexuality became a prevalent talk amongst people your age. This caused you to experiment, so while Bada stuck to crushing on boys, you were already dating and got your first kiss at the end of your first year.

You then went on a vacation to the States for the entire summer that year and struggled. This was the first time you were away from your best friend for so long, making you anxious.

To cope with this, you took various dance classes with different dance genres, and making the gym apart of your stress relievers. After 3 months passed, you were finally coming home, and Bada would get to see you on your first day as a second-year student.

So, on the first day, the tall girl rushes to school to find you talking to an unfamiliar student.

"The new girl is so pretty."

"I heard she's half Japanese."

"I'm pretty sure she's rich. I saw her getting dropped off by a Rolls-Royce today."

"She's bold for talking to Y/n. By the way, didn't she get hotter? What's in the air in the US?"

Though Bada wasn't paying too much attention to the other students, she did get an answer to her thoughts, 'new girl?'

She observes the interaction, mainly you. Your hair got longer, you seemed to have grown an inch or two, and your physique was leaner, with your muscles more prominent. You changed, and Bada couldn't deny how much she liked it, even though you two FaceTimed regularly during your vacation.

Bada also can't help but admire your outfit, like she always does. Somehow, you looked ten hotter in her eyes at the moment, and she always thought you looked good. As she watched, the new girl's movements became quite flirtatious.

Her fingers would drag up and down your arms, and as she laughed, she would lean into you, trying to balance herself by pressing on your abs.

Your one-man audience began to feel irritated.

That's when Bada comes to a realization when she sees you, for the first time in months, befriending the new girl in school.

She was jealous.

After the conversation, you see Bada and immediately go up and hug her with a smile, leaning your head on top of hers and rocking your bodies back and forth.

"I missed you so much," you whispered to her, and her cheeks flushed lightly as she felt butterflies in her stomach.

"I missed you too."

During your second year, Bada's feelings grew for you, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't want to ruin her friendship with you, and she wasn't exactly sure if she liked girls. So, to ease her mind, Bada began finding little ways to see if what she felt was real.

Exhibit A. Bada 'confessed' to you about her slight crush on Hyunjae, aka your school's biggest jerk.

"Bada you can't be serious right now."

"What? He's sweet, always nice, and brings me coffee some mornings? What's so bad about him?"

"You know better than anyone here that the dude wants the privilege of sleeping with you and will be boasting about it to the entire school."

Bada acts hurt at your comments and once realizing how harsh it may have sounded on your end, you expressed, "Dude your one of the most wanted girls in the school, any boy would kill to be in Hyunjae's position right now. But there are so many other boys worth your heart, just not him."

She chuckles at your joking tone in the end. "Hey, if bringing you coffee occasionally makes you happy, I'll do that for you." Bada thought that was another joke, but you brought her an iced americano the next day.

"A coffee for the best girl in the world," you say as you hand her the cup. She blushes and thanks you with a hug. The following week and the week after, you kept bringing her coffee until it became a sacred thing you did for her every week of your friendship.

Exhibit B. It was Valentine's Day, and you and Bada were getting gifts from many people. Bada got letters, sweets, drinks, and stuffed animals from multiple guys. You had the same dilemma with numerous girls handing you multiple letters, confession notes, and anonymous ones in your locker.

At the end of the school day, both of you threw out all the gifts while hanging out in a dance studio near your school. Bada had something prepared for you though, she had bought you a new hoodie in your favorite color and a tulip she bought, last minute, on her way to the studio.

Once you come in, she hands you a bag, "Happy Valentine's Day." Your heart felt warm at the gift, and you began to get excited, "Wait here for a second," was all you said as you walked out.

'Did she not like my gift?' Bada worried, and as you came in, she was about to apologize if you didn't like it but was shocked to see you holding a heart-shaped balloon, a small box, and a bag. You smiled and gave her the items, "Happy Valentine's Day to my number one."

You somehow knew how to make her heart pump furiously. She opened your gift with a card, a bag of her favorite candy, snacks, and a new hat. She began to read the card but was shocked to see how short it was, somewhat feeling a bit let down.

You wrote: "Dear Bada,

We've been best friends for 12 years, and I can proudly say those were the best years of my life. You make me want to be a better person, and you will be my ride or die forever. I love you so much and hope our friendship lasts a lifetime."

She was about to finish reading, but you interrupted her as she closed the card, "Read the back." Bada looks at you confused but reads, 'Open the blue box.'

She stares at the box, then looks at you with eyes of suspicion, "Oh, come on, open it!" you say with pure excitement in your voice.

Bada opens the surprise to find a small note on top of it.

'Thank you for being the moon to my sun,' Under it was a bracelet with a moon charm and her name. She looks at you in complete shock while you raise your arm, pulling down your sleeve to show her the matching one with your name on it and the sun.

Bada feels a rush of emotions and hugs you, tearing up at the heartfelt gift.

Exhibit C. Bada wanted to test the waters, so when hanging out at your house on the last few weeks of school, she confesses what's been on her mind for a while.

"Y/n?" You were doing some studying but put your full attention on her after hearing your name, "yes?"

"How did you know you liked girls?"

You pondered her question, "I guess, when it came to many guys I had crushes on, I didn't feel a strong connection. To me, girls felt comforting, understanding, and overall beautiful. Then I met Yoonji, and it confirmed my thoughts." Bada's face goes into disgust upon hearing your ex's name, but as you laugh at her reaction, you begin to wonder.

"Why?"

"Well, I've been thinking. Every time I had a crush on a guy, yes, I've had a connection with some, but as soon as I can make it even as far as a kiss, I begin to shut down the idea."

Now that was news to you, "You're telling me the Lee Bada hasn't had her first kiss yet?" She shyly shakes her head no. "Well, no need to be embarrassed. Maybe you just haven't found the right person yet."

"I just feel like I'm lagging behind, you know?"

"I get it, but if you're saving it, that's also okay."

"I don't think I am. If anything, I wanna get it over with."

"That can also be arranged," now that statement piqued Bada's interest. "What do you mean?"

"If you wanna get it over with, you can kiss me. I mean, you trust me, right?" Of course, she did, causing her to nod and like your idea.

At first, her plan was to only find out if she liked girls, but she never thought she'd get this far. Her hands begin to sweat at the idea of the kiss.

"You do have experience, so I guess it would make my life easy," she mumbles. You sit down beside her on your bed, staring at her attentively. "You sure about this?" She nods again.

You delicately rest your hand under her chin, and Bada closes her eyes. Pulling her in slowly, she felt your lips on hers and melted. Your lips were sweet like the cherry chapstick you used. They were soft and warm. Your other hand rests on her waist, pulling her body closer to yours as you caress her face.

After kissing for about 2 minutes, you break apart and Bada looked at you with a slight shocked face.

"Was it good?" You asked concerned. 'It was more than good.'

"Yeah, of course it was." She hugs you, "Thanks for that."

While hugging you, all Bada can think of was, 'I'm so fucked...I'm so in love with you.'

Due to much anxiety, nervousness, and terrifying thoughts, Bada couldn't act on her feelings at all.

After two years, you two had developed a somewhat flirty friendship, and now you were in your first college years. You were both preparing all of your senior year to head into university and majoring in dance.

The process was definitely stressful, but you got through it together. As a celebratory 'we survived high school,' you two decided to get tattoos. Bada has a wave on her right forearm and a moon on her right wrist, while you have an orange and yellow colored sun on your left forearm and a small koi fish on your right wrist.

University was the biggest rollercoaster of your life. You didn't know if you could call it some of the best moments of your life or the most heartbreaking. You two got into the same school, and even dorming together was terrific.

The issue was the rift that was happening in your relationship. You two were doing your own things, meeting new groups of friends, and having drastically different schedules. It got to the point where it felt like you didn't have a roommate.

Well, you barely saw her anyway.

You two became part of a dance crew and garnered many opportunities in the dancing scene. This was the only time you ever saw her around.

While in school, you two auditioned for many background dancing positions, and your journey in the dance world began to sail from there.

After graduation, Bada started teaching classes, and by the end of university, she had many projects lined up for her. She then joined JustJerk, and that's when she began to flourish as a choreographer as SM reached out to her.

You, on the other hand, had begun as a freelance dancer in Korea while making several videos of your own choreography and uploading them on YouTube. As you gained massive popularity, you were getting projects from friends in the States, which caused you to go back and forth from Korea.

You and Bada spent less time together, but you two tried your hardest to hang out and chat occasionally. That was until you started making it big in the States and had offers coming your way left and right. So, you made the most difficult decision to move to the US to focus on your career.

As you worked in the West and Bada worked in the East, your connection began to fizzle until it was no longer a thing. No one was to blame. Your careers were now your priorities, which was understandable.

While Bada gained popularity for her Kpop choreography, she did many lessons and projects and learned from some big-name dancers. Then, 2018 came around, and Kpop grew a massive fan base in the States. You also began to get offers for projects in Korea, mainly from HYBE Entertainment or Bighit, at the time. That's when it hit you: You made it big into the dance scene.

The more projects you did, the more opportunities came. An example of one of your most outstanding achievements was signing with Jam Republic and working with some of the biggest stars, BTS, and the trendy New Jeans. You were on a role, to say the least.

You were working with several Jam Republic artists and got an offer. It was to join the team for their representation on Street Woman Fighter. So, after staying in the States for about 5 years, you decided to move back to Korea so you could comfortably work on Street Woman Fighter with your girls.

You had the liberty of picking them up and hanging out with them 3 weeks before the show's filming. The crew ate dinner together, drank some alcohol from time to time, and even taught dances while they stayed.

The day finally came when they filmed the first part of the episode, where Mnet introduced every team and their members. You got excited seeing big names and saw the most familiar one, Bada. "Oh, she's on the show too?"

"You know Bada?" Audrey asks you innocently, and you smile at the thought. "Of course I do, she's my best friend."

The girls looked at you with wide eyes, and you giggled, "What? After I went to the States, we barely talked, so it never came up." As you continued, all of you had to pick the worst dancers and talk more about the dance styles of each crew.

You chose someone you felt could challenge you out of respect for the dancer's skills.

The other teams had to do the same thing as Jam Republic, and as soon as Kristen popped up on their screen, almost no one could believe it.

"No way!"

"She's on the show?"

"For real?"

As they continued to introduce JR, you were the last member revealed. Everyone gasps in shock, seeing your face and resume in dance.

"A Korean on their team?"

"She's worked with HYBE? Now that's how you know she's good."

"Run BTS? She did that one? It was a sick choreography."

"Wait she looks kinda familiar."

"She kinda looks like Bada-nim."

When it was Bebe's turn to react, Bada went extremely pale but did well in hiding it. She had kept up with some of your videos and releases during your time away, being happy for you, but she didn't realize that this show was the reason for you to see each other again.

That's when the two of you were starting to become nervous about the next shoots to come.

It was time for all the crews to meet, and as you guys entered your hideout, you were met with a bright pink room.

When it was Jam Republic's turn to enter the fight zone, everyone was surprised by the scale of the show. Coming down the stairs, you found the other dancers staring either in awe or trying to intimidate you guys, which wasn't gonna work.

You were the last down, and everyone couldn't help but notice your height, plus yours and Audrey's beauty. Many girls describe Audrey as looking like a doll or a baby, while people believe you have a "cat" attractiveness.

Your height was another factor. You stood tall at 5'10 and noticeably towered over your members. Bada couldn't help but keep eye contact with your figure, which worked in her favor since that's what she was known for.

She took in your presence after 5 years and felt as if all the air was sucked out of her body.

While Bada stared, her members began to notice something. Lusher nudges her, "Unnie... do you two know each other?" Bada looks confusingly at her.

"Where did you get that?"

"You two have matching tattoos," Tatter butts in, whispering. Bada's eyes widen a little, then scan your tattoo. She forgot that they were matching couple-looking tattoos. "We were really close till she left for the States."

The two girls move back, stunned at the new information. "How close were you two?"

"We were best friends for 24 years of our lives."

"HUHHHHHH?" They announced a little too loudly that Bada had to shush them. You focused on the video and concluded that Audrey had the most votes as the worst dancer, making you scoff.

"They definitely don't know who they picked," Your arm rested on Audrey's shoulders as you whispered to her. Bada sees this, and her hands begin to squeeze into a fist.

Well, now she knew that those feelings were still there, to say the least.

Many battles went on and soon, it was your turn to head up. "Next opponent is Kim Y/n!" Kang Daniel announced and you decided to walk around the fight zone. You slow down near Bebe and give Bada a teasing stare down before walking walking away with a smirk that she gladly returns.

"Tsubakill, Yumeri-san, please come out."

Everyone cheers, and as the stage gets rowdy, you hold the mic in your hands.

"Y/n, why did you pick Yumeri as the worst dancer?"

"I honestly didn't think she was bad at all. It's quite the opposite." You turned to her. "Yumeri-san, I know you can give me a good challenge, so let's see how good we are as dancers," You bowed to her, and everyone was surprised at your statement AND that you spoke in Japanese.

Yumeri smiles before saying, "It's an honor to dance with you."

As the music began, Yumeri went first and showed off fierce movements which you couldn't help but hype up.

"She's really humble, huh?" Tatter questions Bada, and she nods. You always respected people no matter what. Bada knew exactly why you chose Yumeri.

Yumeri is a hip-hop-based dancer who knew her body, which results in powerful movements. Bada knew you picked the woman to show off an entertaining battle, not a one-sided one. When the music switched, you grooved a little until the base dropped and you pulled out some krumping and locking.

Everyone is shocked, as none of the dancers necessarily excelled in that area of dance, well, other than you. You then contorted your body and twisted as you lay on the floor, and everyone went wild.

In the corner, Bada's jaw dropped. Sure, she kept up with your videos, but she never imagined that this was how good you got over the years.

Once your battle ended, it was time for the judges to vote. All of them pulled out the Jam Republic card, and you bowed. Monika picks up her mic with much evident excitement.

"KIM Y/N! Whaaaaaaa~ You truly are a different talent. This battle was one of the best ones I've seen by far. We have many gifted dancers here, but you showed us something unique today." You and Yumeri bowed at the high remark and hugged each other to conclude your battle.

After a few matches, it was time to have a break. You had to use the bathroom and decided to freshen up there and as you were about to return to the fight zone, you see a familiar face heading out her hideout.

"Well isn't it the famous Bada lee."

She turns her neck fast due to the shock and sighs once she sees you. You hug her while rocking side to side.

"Don't you feel some deja vu?" You joked, and she smacked your arm lightly. "I missed you," Bada confesses as she holds your hand.

"I missed you too," you stared at her with caring eyes. As she looked at you, she began to tear up, and before a tear fell, you wiped it away with your thumb. "I regret not keeping in touch."

"I also didn't put in the most effort Bada, you aren't the only one to blame."

"God," Bada whines and you smile. "How about after this we hang out? If you give me my number I'll text you my address?"

"I'd be honored 'Mother of HYBE,' she teased. You chuckled and exchanged phone numbers, immediately texting her your address.

When all the groups were about to leave, you peep Bebe, getting ready to go. "Hold up a minute. I'll meet you guys at the van."

You begin to hear "ooooohhhhhh~~~" as they see you making your way over to Bada and you roll your eyes. "Bada-nim!"

Bebe looks over and begins giggling at your interaction like cute school girls watching a drama. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, of course," you give another hug that caresses her waist and wave off. Bada then gets teased by her younger members.

"Yahhhhhh~ did you see her hand movement."

"Unnie! You're literally the best. Find me a woman like that too."

"Whaaaaa~ that's our leader."

"Dude, I don't know if I wanna be her or be you."

Bada's face turns bright red and her members burst in laughter once again.

Once you made it home, you decided to shower and prepare a bit. You decided to wear some checkered pajamas and a cropped tank, then began to cook some food.

As you weren't really expecting a guest so early on, your fridge didn't have too much food due to your busy schedule, but you were able to make some shrimp alfredo pasta and took out some soju bottles you had from the JR girls.

You finished up, heard the doorbell ring, and saw Bada wearing a matching set consisting of a cropped sweater vest, a crop top underneath, a navy blue tennis skirt, and some black timberlands.

"Wow~ you look good. Now I feel underdressed," you joke but realize she was wearing the hat and bracelet you gifted her in high school. You let her enter and point it out.

"You still have these?" You asked as you lightly flicked it down then grabbed her wrist, and all she could do was smile. "I cherish them too much to throw it out."

"Don't you still have yours?"

"Yeah but I rarely wear it nowadays."

"Why?" Bada was hurt, but she pouts when you say, "I didn't wanna lose it when I moved to the States, so I kept it in the box. It's in my room right now. Hold up." After a few minutes, you go into your room and come out with the bracelet on your wrist, "See?"

Bada's move was instantly uplifted again, but her attention shifted to food because she was hungry for so long.

"Holy shit, did you make this?" She asks, settling down at your dining table. She takes off the jacket and hat, showing off her two-toned hair. "Of course, try it first before you compliment me too much."

She digs in and moans at the taste. "Good?"

"Good? This is amazing."

You two talked ate and chatted a bit about work, but after a while, you guys moved to the couch and started drinking.

"I can't help but ask, how's your love life?"

"I did some dating here and there in the States, but they never got too serious," you say as you take a shot. "What about you? No one special in your life?"

"My special person left me for the States," Bada joked with a pout, and you giggled. "In all seriousness though, I dated a bit, and my last one was a bit serious, but we didn't work out. She got a bit crazy on me nearing the end."

"Damn crazy?"

...

"Wait, did you say she?" You looked at her in dismay. "Yeah, I may have figured out I liked both guys and girls while you were gone."

"Well, definitely earlier than that, but we don't talk about it," Bada added.

"No, no, we are going to talk about it. Who was the special person that made you realize?"

Bada bit her lip and thought if she should tell you. Impulsively she thinks, 'it's now or never.'

"It was you."

You sat there with a shot of soju in hand and stared at Bada as a wave of emotions flooded you.

"Since when?" That was all you can say.

"Since high school," She mumbles, but you hear her loud and clear. Well, your first thought, you smack her arm, and she gives you an offended look. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I was scared okay? We were friends for so long, and I didn't want to lose you. As long as you were happy, I was happy, and that was enough for me."

Your gazed softened, "Bada, you idiot."

"I liked you too."

Those were the words she never thought she would hear, and she felt a heaviness lift off her chest. "You think I would just suggest kissing you for shits and giggles?"

Now Bada wanted to punch herself in the face, "but you were dating other people?"

"Bada, I did that to push aside my feelings because everyone thought you were straight, and you never ever told me about crushing on a girl."

She thinks back and realizes you were right. She only ever talked about the guys she was crushing on. "Now I feel stupid. I've liked you for so long, and seeing you dating other people hurt my heart. When I saw you kissing other girls, I wanted to cry sometimes. Then I saw you again and realized that I still love you, and your relationship with Audrey often made me jealous. And-"

Before she could rant even more, you pulled her into a kiss to shut her up. Her shocked face turned soft, and she kissed you back.

To her, it felt the same as the first time you kissed her, but to you, it felt like the thing you've been missing for so long.

You wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her onto your lap, wanting to feel her warmth and touch.

She felt the kiss's intensity and couldn't help but grind on your lap. Out of breath, you two pulled away, breathing heavily. "I love you too dummy."

Bada's face grins widely, and she leans her head back as your arm balances her from falling. She goes all shy and hides her face into your neck as you lightly run your fingers up and down her waist, giving her the chills.

"You don't understand how long I've waited for that."

"Well, no need to wait anymore," You pull her into another kiss, which turns into a heated make-out session. Her fingers tangled into your hair as your tongues played around. Your kisses move to her neck, and you chuckle, "Be ready for a long night. I have a couple years to make up for."

A/n: Fun fact guys, this was the first Bada fic out of all the ones if written so far, i just pushed back posting it for so long😭

[vivsinkpot]

Character Diversity Done Right: Beyond Tokenism & Forced Inclusivity

Diversity in storytelling isn’t just about ticking boxes or adding characters to look inclusive. It’s about creating real, nuanced people who enrich your world and resonate with readers. Let’s break down how to do diversity thoughtfully — without falling into the trap of forced inclusivity or the “token minority” trope.

✨ What Is Forced Inclusivity?

Forced inclusivity happens when diversity feels like an obligation instead of a natural part of the story.

Characters might be added just to meet a quota.

Their identities are mentioned but not explored or integrated meaningfully.

They often feel out of place or like an afterthought.

Why avoid it?

Because it can feel performative, shallow, or even disrespectful. Readers want authentic stories — not characters who exist only to “check a box.”

⚠️ The Token Minority Trap

A “token” character is often the only member of their group in the story, included to represent an entire community. They usually:

Have one-dimensional traits centered on their identity (e.g., the “sassy Black friend” or “nerdy gay sidekick”).

Are used to educate or explain cultural issues instead of being full characters.

Serve as a plot device rather than people with their own goals and flaws.

💡 How to Write Diversity Well

1. Make characters fully fleshed-out individuals.

Diversity isn’t just skin-deep or a label — it’s about who the character is inside. When you create a diverse character, ask yourself:

What motivates them? What are their dreams and fears beyond their identity?

How do their relationships shape them?

What quirks, flaws, or contradictions make them human?

This makes them feel real, not like a “diversity prop.” For example, a transgender character could be a talented detective who struggles with self-doubt, a funny sense of humor, and complicated family ties — not just “the trans character.”

2. Avoid stereotypes and clichés.

Stereotypes reduce complex people to a handful of traits. They can be harmful and alienate readers who identify with those characters.

Do your research! Read books, watch films, and listen to podcasts created by people from the community you’re portraying.

Avoid relying on common tropes like the “magical Native American,” “angry Black woman,” or “promiscuous bisexual.”

Give your character individuality that breaks expectations — maybe they defy norms within their own culture or identity.

Example

Instead of the “model minority” trope, write an Asian character who struggles with their own passions, insecurities, and family dynamics, making them a well-rounded person, not just a stereotype.

3. Include multiple diverse characters.

Having just one “diverse” character often makes them a symbol rather than a person. Real communities are rich, varied, and nuanced — and your story should reflect that.

Introduce more than one character from the same or different backgrounds to show variety.

Show how their experiences differ even if they share an identity. For instance, two queer characters might have completely different outlooks based on age, culture, or personality.

This avoids the “token” feeling and creates a more believable world.

4. Let diversity shape the world naturally.

In real life, diversity influences culture, language, food, traditions, and social dynamics. Your story world should feel lived-in and authentic.

Think about how diverse backgrounds affect worldbuilding — from holidays and cuisine to language and fashion.

Show interactions between communities, including cooperation, conflict, and blending of cultures.

Don’t just “drop in” diverse characters without integrating their identities into the story’s social fabric.

Example

In a fantasy city, different kingdoms might reflect distinct cultures with their own customs and dialects — giving your setting richness and depth.

5. Don’t make identity the only thing about them.

A character’s ethnicity, gender, or sexuality is part of who they are — but not the whole story.

Their identity can influence their worldview and experiences, but they should have other defining traits too — like ambitions, fears, or talents unrelated to identity.

Avoid writing characters whose entire personality or plot revolves around their minority status.

This lets readers see them as complex individuals, not just representatives.

Example:

A Black engineer who’s passionate about robotics and has a dry sense of humor — their race is important, but so is their love for tinkering and problem-solving.

6. Listen and learn from feedback.

No one gets it perfect on the first try. Writing diverse characters is a learning process.

Seek out sensitivity readers from the communities you’re writing about. Their insights can catch unintentional biases, inaccuracies, or harmful stereotypes.

Be open to constructive criticism and willing to revise your work.

Remember: it’s better to listen and grow than to defend mistakes that could hurt readers.

Final Thought

Diversity is about inclusion and respect, not obligation or tokenism. When you write with empathy and intention, your story becomes richer — and your characters become unforgettable.

💬 Got tips or experiences writing diverse characters? Drop them below or tag me — let’s learn and grow together!