#female characters who are just unhappy

[rigginsstreet]

The problem with how so many female characters are written, especially middle aged women, is that there is such a desperate need to spin a feminist narrative of “she’s never done anything wrong, she’s a Strong Female Lead, don’t you wanna be just like her? Isn’t she so likable?” Is that you strip them the right to have any flaws, from being complex, from being wrong.

You all claim you want female anti heroes like the men or just female characters who are terrible and no good but the second you get that you do everything in your power to make them victims and show how they’re just misunderstood or everyone else just doesn’t “get her” and it’s so so annoying

None of you can handle actually flawed female characters and it shows. Your fucking heads explode and your brain leaks out your ears every time you come in contact with one

[pacificgasandelectric]

Current Events in Silm fandom rlly reinforce my feeling that, despite claiming an ethos of acceptance/tolerance of anything that doesn't hurt ppl, a lot of ppl in the section of Silm fandom I frequent do follow a set of socially-agreed-upon mores about what concepts are "not acceptable" to discuss or propose (or the ways in which certain topics must be discussed to be acceptable), that you all seem to have agreed on despite the things those mores restrict not being harmful to anyone.

And when someone does say smth that violates those mores, the response is disproportionate to the amount of harm done (which is typically none, imo). I know it's tempting to say "but we just want people to be comfortable and safe", but treating ppl badly for the sin of sharing thoughts you dislike is NOT the same as preventing people from doing things that are harmful. The former is much more of a harmful behavior than the sharing of the thoughts that sets it off. Fannish etiquette, people: you shouldn’t act like someone’s meta makes them morally suspect just because you disagree with it; save the “this is morally bad” for things that are ACTUALLY harmful. We're all stuck on this website together & if you want to have any sort of community, you need to ACT like you're in a community, and that means letting other people say things you dislike. Block them if you need to! I block people all the time because i know it's better for me AND for them if we can both blog in peace.

I am not particularly comfortable with the young-queer-on-tumblr silm fandom rn due to this tendency to rebuke things that are uncomfortable rather than harmful. Maybe that's fine with you. But if your goal is to make all fans feel comfortable and accepted, you need to actually do that. If your goal is to make people who share your unwritten rules comfortable in your space, you need to admit that, and write those rules down, and curate your space so it follows them.

Edited 8:10am PST to clarify the specifics of the behavior I find concerning.

[tae-shimura-is-my-wife]

Thinking that a female character could and only will be happy if she gets with a man that barely cares for her, isn't the feminist hot take you think it is, just saying...

[nebucat]

elise critics annoy the fuck out of me tbh

[sarahreesbrennan]

Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?

Genuine question.

Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.

But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.

Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.

Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.

… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.

I’m not in this to have an internet argument. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.

I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.

In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.

Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.

Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.

I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.

I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.

If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.

[drabblesandsnippets]

Confidence, Part 1

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 2

Pairing: Sex Worker!Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “What should I call you?” | [Master | Alpha | Pet] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (7k) AU Bucky is a full-service sex worker who enjoys helping women become more confident in their sexuality.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Mention of an ex-boyfriend. Mention of insecurities/body image. Pet names (sweetheart, baby). Lots of asking for consent. Teasing. Dirty talk. Praise. Issues climaxing. Oral & fingering (f receiving).

---------------------------

The end of a long-term relationship had led her here. Years of unhappiness. Years of feeling unsatisfied by her ex. Years of wishing things would change. 

After she finally found the courage to end things, the breath of relief she thought would come never did. Instead, she was left feeling lost, insecure, and unsure about what she wanted or who she even was.

That’s when a friend referred her to Bucky. 

A full-service sex worker who came highly recommended. A man who believes that there’s something inherently beautiful about everyone.

“I’ve worked with all types of women,” he assured her, “and I’ve found every single one of them attractive.”

It sounded like a line, but all the evidence pointed to the contrary. 

Bucky’s not just doing this to make money. He truly enjoys what he does. The physical part of it, sure - he wouldn’t be doing it if he didn’t - but, it’s the emotional aspect that keeps bringing him back.

There’s nothing like the rush he gets from watching a woman find her confidence and blossom under his guidance. That moment when they finally feel comfortable enough to let go of their inhibitions and learn to trust themselves.

It’s a heady feeling, knowing he’s changing their lives forever, and it’s not something he takes lightly.

Over the last few weeks of emails, texts, and phone calls, she found it easy to talk to Bucky about what she wanted out of this experience. Sex is supposed to be fun, and she wants to be able to enjoy herself without worrying about how she looks or if she’s doing the wrong thing.

Even during the more personal topics, like when they discussed what her sex life was like with her ex, Bucky never made her feel ashamed or judged. Her lack of experience and seemingly lack of enthusiasm for certain acts, due to her ex, didn’t make him blink an eye.

If anything, it made Bucky more intrigued to work with her. She was a puzzle he was going to enjoy help figuring out.

Despite his intimidating appearance - his well-defined muscles and the abundance of tattoos, his entire left arm covered in intricate designs - his charismatic personality keeps her relaxed.

His easy-going nature helps her open up as they sit on the couch in the beautifully decorated hotel room, giving her the courage to blurt out a question, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks when she does.

“What should I call you?”

During their last conversation, Bucky had asked her something similar, curious if she would enjoy being called something other than her name. She settled on a few things, but they never discussed what - if anything - she should call him.

With a tilt of his head, and a warm smile, he tells her, “You can call me whatever you’d like.” 

The hand that’s been resting on the back of the couch finally moves closer to her, his fingers just inches from her shoulder, making her breath hitch.

“Try not to overthink it,” he continues, his hand drifting closer as his smile turns playful. “Let the throes of passion guide you. I’m good with anything, really. ‘Bucky’. ‘Baby’. ‘Sir’. ‘Daddy’, if that’s your kink.”

She immediately laughs, the pink on her cheeks darkening as she shakes her head at him. She’s just starting to figure out what she might like with a partner, she’s not ready to even consider the last two options. 

Bucky’s grin grows and he nods his head in understanding, happy to see that his teasing tone is helping to relax her a bit more. It encourages him to shift a bit closer, his knee just barely brushing against her thigh. 

Their layers of clothing do nothing to dampen the rush of arousal she suddenly feels, and she waits with baited breath as his hand hovers over her shoulder, his fingertips almost close enough to touch her shirt.

“Can I touch you?”

It’s such a simple question, but it’s in this moment that she finally understands the phrase ‘consent is sexy.’

There’s something so incredibly intimate and arousing about Bucky asking for permission, despite the obvious reason he’s here. 

He accepts the slight nod of her head and the soft whisper of ‘yes’ for now. Eventually, he’ll help her find her voice and figure out how to ask for what she wants.

Until then, he needs to find a balance between her obvious desire for more and showing her that it’s okay to go slow.

She deserves to have someone take their time with her, to learn her body, to help her figure out what brings her pleasure. 

She knows what she likes when she’s by herself - that’s never been the problem - it’s allowing herself to be vulnerable with someone that’s the issue. She’s always struggled with being able to fully enjoy the moment, and she’s trusting Bucky to help her learn how to do that.

Goosebumps spread across her skin at the first brush of his thumb along the soft curve where her shoulder meets her neck. A soft exhale and a flutter of her eyelashes tells him all he needs to know, but he still asks, his voice a low murmur.

“Is this okay?”

She’s quick with her answer. A slight nod before she tilts her head, wanting him to keep going. He’s more than happy to, his eyes roaming along her body as he caresses her neck, taking in all the subtle ways her body responds to her touch.

“Does that feel good?”

It shouldn’t make her laugh, but it does. Bucky doesn’t take offense though, just watches her with a grin on his face, his hand never leaving her. 

“Why does it turn me on when you ask questions like that?” She’s surprised she manages to get the words out, but any nerves that threaten to consume her are immediately alleviated when Bucky’s smile grows.

She can practically feel how proud he is of her for asking.

He was already excited about working with her, but this just solidifies it. He can’t wait to watch her come out of her shell even more. 

As his thumb dips down to trace over her collarbone, he tells her, “I think it’s because it shows you that I care about what you want. That your pleasure is important to me.”

After an audible swallow, and a steadying breath, she admits, “I think I just also like hearing your voice.”

Her confession makes Bucky laugh, the smile reaching his eyes, and he nods his head, “Good to know.” He shifts just a bit closer on the couch, his leg resting against hers, his thumb slowly following a path up to her chin. “Does that mean you wanna try some dirty talk?”

She immediately blushes again, but with his thumb caressing the curve of her throat, she’s forced to keep her head held high. 

It manages to give her a boost of confidence, and she lets out a soft laugh, confessing, “Oh god, I’d be terrible at it.”

Bucky chuckles along with her but shakes his head. “Oh don’t worry, you wouldn’t have to say a thing.” His thumb brushes over her chin, almost close enough to touch her lip. “I’d enjoy just watching your reactions.”

He always seems to know just what to say to ease her worries before they can even start. The moment his eyes glance at her mouth, her lips part, and she leans in, just a fraction of an itch. 

The smile on Bucky’s face brightens, and he shifts again, mirroring her movements, but he’s not going to kiss her just yet, wanting the anticipation to build a little more. Instead, he repeats his question, softly asking her, “Do you want me to talk dirty to you?”

The slight shudder that rolls through her would make her feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the hungry look he’s giving her. Her reactions are turning him on, and it helps her find her voice again.

“Yes.” 

With a tender touch, Bucky tucks her hair behind her ear, and all her senses are suddenly flooded by him - the smell of him, the heat of him, the sound of his voice whispering in her ear.

“Do you want me to praise you?” The question catches her off guard, but she’s suddenly aware of the way her nipples tighten, especially when he asks, “Can I tell you how good you’re doing?”

She wants his attention. She wants to be comfortable with someone complimenting her and praising her. So, with a slow nod of her head, she whispers another soft, “yes.”

But, Bucky hears the difference this time. The word just a bit louder, a bit more confident. She’s trying her hardest to allow herself to face her fears, and he wants her to know that he sees her. That he’s proud of how far she’s already come.

After getting her permission to touch more of her, he takes her hand in his, stroking his thumb across her palm, listening to the change in her breath. Without ever pulling away, he keeps talking, his mouth almost close enough to touch her ear.

“You’re doing so good for me.” 

The praise makes warmth pool in her belly and the softest noise of pleasure escapes her. 

“Oh,” he murmurs, his touch sliding higher, the pad of his thumb tracing the inside of her wrist. “I like that sound.”

She feels like she’s dreaming. Bucky’s barely started touching her, and she can already feel the wetness between her thighs, the ache for more.

“Let’s see what other kind of noises you can make for me,” he says, his soft beard brushing against her jaw. With one hand stroking up her forearm, his other hand slides into her hair to support her head, giving him better access.

She’s sure her heart is beating loud enough for him to hear, but she makes no move to pull away, not wanting to give him any reason to stop. Her head is flooded with thoughts of what he’s going to do, how he’s going to touch her, but he still takes her by surprise.

Just the softest brush of Bucky’s lips against her cheek before he’s asking, “is this okay?” and she’s a mess. 

She doesn’t even recognize the sound that comes out of her, and without thinking, she reaches for him, her fingers trailing over the front of his shirt.

Bucky rewards her confidence with another soft kiss along her jaw, and she suddenly decides to jump in with both feet, asking him, “Will you kiss me?” 

The question’s been building all evening, trying to work its way out of her, and his reaction to it makes her wonder why she was hesitant to start with.

“Absolutely.” The way he says it, like he’s just been waiting for her, makes her laugh softly, and he grins as he pulls back just enough to meet her gaze. “I would love to kiss you.” 

And the way he kisses her makes her believe him. His mouth soon coaxing hers open, his tongue seeking permission to deepen the kiss, a soft groan rumbling deep in his chest in response to the taste of her. 

It’s all so new and exciting, but somehow Bucky’s able to make it feel familiar and comfortable. And for the first time in what feels like forever, she’s not in her head about what’s happening or what she’s supposed to be doing. 

She’s just living in the moment, making out with an incredibly hot guy, welcoming his weight on top of her. 

If there was ever any doubt that he was enjoying himself, it’s erased when he settles between her thighs, letting her feel how turned on he is.

The moan she makes in return just makes him harder, and he leans up, meeting her gaze, a soft smile on his lips. As much as Bucky's enjoying kissing her, he wants to hear her, watch her as the pleasure takes over. 

She’s not sure who moves first, but with a slight tilt of her hips, the hard length of him is suddenly pressed right against her clit, eliciting a soft gasp from her. 

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the two of them still completely dressed, but the moment he starts to move against her, her back is already arching, her body seeking out more.

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off of her, watching her closely. She doesn’t even realize it, but she’s the one setting the pace here. He’s just following her lead, matching her movements with his own, wanting her to show him what feels good to her.

When he can see the attention he’s giving her is starting to overwhelm her, he closes the distance, placing soft kisses along her jaw, giving her time to relax all over again. 

With a soft moan right against her ear, he tells her, “You feel so good like this.” His fingers tighten in her hair at her reaction, her tense thighs and lift of her hips causing his cock to throb between them. “Can you feel how hard I am for you?”

“Oh god,” she breathes, grinding harder against him, his words sending a burst of pleasure straight to her clit. With her hands pressed against his back, fisting his shirt, she quickly nods her head, whispering, “Yes. Please.”

That’s the word he’s been waiting for. 

Please. 

Bucky’s free hand travels down to her thigh, guiding her to lift her leg just a bit higher. The new position makes her gasp and he groans against her neck, asking her, “Please, what?” 

Her body shudders as he starts moving again, the increased pressure between her thighs making her breath catch. She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for. She just holds onto him, her hips moving a bit faster, the pleasure building inside of her.

Bucky still wants an answer, but he doesn’t pressure her for one. He follows her lead, listening to her gasps and moans get louder with each thrust of his hips against hers. He’s pretty sure this might be enough to make her come.

The same thought is running through her head, but it’s not long before the moment starts to catch up with her. 

The way she’s starting to sweat underneath her clothes, the way her heavy breathing has caused her throat to go dry, the way her foot keeps slipping off the edge of the couch as she tries to find purchase.

This time it doesn’t surprise her when his voice interrupts her thoughts, asking her, “Can you tell me what you need?” All he wants is for her to be comfortable, and if she’s not feeling this anymore, he’s more than happy to find something that works for her.

She knows what she needs. The only problem is that it’s the one thing that’s been giving her the most anxiety about this night. 

Being naked with him. Being vulnerable. Having to trust him to prove to her that she deserves to have someone bring her pleasure.

Bucky is more than up for the challenge though. His entire goal for the night is to show her how good it can be to have someone take care of her. To show her how much pleasure someone can bring her, if she just allows herself to connect with them.

Soon, he’s leading them to stand at the foot of the bed, taking his time to get her to relax against him, drawing her into a kiss that leaves them both breathless. 

And with just a bit of encouragement, she’s makes the first move, slowly lifting his shirt over his head. While her hands start exploring his newly exposed skin, tracing the lines of the tattoos that cover his shoulder and left arm, he pulls her into another kiss, groaning against her mouth. 

She doesn’t know what’s come over her. She’s never felt this confident before, refusing to overthink how she’s touching him, letting her desire for him guide her. It’s opening her up to so many possibilities, the memory of their conversations about boundaries and kinks suddenly flashing through her mind.

As she encourages him to help her out of her shirt, she softly asks him, “What if I change my mind about something we’ve already discussed?”

It’s clear to Bucky that she’s not asking about things she’s already said she wants, and he takes a moment to consider her question, appreciating the way her nipples strain against her bra.

It’s not lost on him that she makes no move to try to cover up or hide herself from him.

After he gives her another kiss, he meets her gaze, watching her as his finger traces along her bra strap, the back of his fingers brushing across the swell of her breast. 

He smiles when her lips part, her breath quickening, and he whispers, “Then you tell me. Tonight’s about learning to ask for what you want.”

She nods her head slowly, but her voice leaves her for a moment. Her entire focus is on his touch, his fingers teasing along the edge of her bra, the occasional brush of his skin against hers making her dizzy with need. She’s not sure she’s ever been this turned on before, especially not during foreplay.

“What is it you think you might want?” 

Bucky remembers everything she said no to - everything she knew she wouldn’t like, or didn’t want to try - and he can’t ignore the rush of excitement at the thought that he’s made her comfortable enough to try something she wasn’t sure about before.

It’s not until she’s helped him out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxer briefs, that she finally figures out how to voice her desires. It helps that he chooses the same moment to kneel in front of her to undo her jeans, the soft brush of his fingers against her stomach bringing her nothing but pleasure.

“I did what you suggested,” she begins, her hand resting on his shoulder as he starts to lower her jeans, his eyes briefly looking up at her, a pleased smirk on his face as he reveals the matching panties to her bra. “The other night,” she whispers, watching as he slowly undresses her, helping her step out of her jeans. “I tasted myself.”

Bucky doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s not that. 

His hands immediately reach up to hold her hips, his thumbs dipping underneath the waistband of her panties as he lets out a soft groan. The image of her alone in her own bed, touching herself, tasting herself for the first time has him silently praying that this is going where he thinks it is.

He somehow manages to keep his composure and looks up at her, his eyes dark with desire, but his voice steady. “What did you think?”

She’s the one that brought this up, but her skin still grows warm and a soft laugh comes out of her. She’s trying so hard not to overthink all of this - to not let her insecurities start to overwhelm her.

Bucky helps her through this moment, like he’s done all evening. Still kneeling in front of her, he slides his hands down her thick thighs and gently asks, “Do you like the way you taste?” 

Her first reaction is to give him a slight shrug, her eyes looking past him. But he quickly gets her attention, finding a sensitive spot along the back of her thigh, the graze of his fingers causing her breath to shudder out of her. 

It has the desired effect, and she nods her head, whispering, “Yes.”

Bucky continues watching her as he caresses the back of her thighs, marveling at the way it causes obvious pleasure to ripple through her, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Do you think I’d like the way you taste?”

There’s no doubt in his mind that he will, but this isn’t really about him. Bucky needs her to get there on her own, to believe that someone wants all of her. 

She wants to shrug again. To brush off his question and keep her eyes closed, pretending that he’s not watching her right now. But, she can’t. That’s not why she’s here. That’s not why Bucky is here. 

After she forces herself to take a slow, deep breath, she finally opens her eyes and looks down at him. The confidence she wishes for isn’t there yet, but she’s able to answer him honestly. 

A soft whisper of, “I’m not sure.” And then, a barely audible utterance of, “Maybe.”

Without hesitation, his hands slide up the outside of her thighs, returning to her hips, his fingers tracing along the edge of her panties. “Do you want me to taste you?” 

She forgets how to breathe, air getting trapped in her lungs as she tries not to look away. She just needs to ask for what she wants. It should be easy by now. She’s already standing in front of him in just her bra and underwear, letting him see the bits of her that she’s uncomfortable with.

But, for a moment, the words still don’t come. Her hands remain on his shoulders, her nails lightly scratching along his tattooed skin as she tries to refocus. This time, Bucky remains quiet. He just continues to look up at her, giving her as much time as she needs to show him she’s ready for this.

This is something her ex never volunteered to do, and she was always too shy to ask, but she doesn’t want to be shy anymore. 

She wants to own her sexuality. She wants to be able to ask for what she wants in her next relationship, even new things she might not even know she wants yet.

With a slight nod of her head, and another trembling breath, she tells him, “Yes. I want… I want that.” 

Bucky doesn’t move yet. The look he gives her conveys how proud he is of her, but he wants to hear her say the actual words. Instead of just expecting her to know what to say, he asks her, “What do you want, sweetheart?”

She swallows the nervous laughter that threatens to spill out and takes a moment to close her eyes, trying to compose herself. How can such a simple term of endearment cause her so much pleasure? 

That’s not what she says though. When her mouth opens, the words come before she can overthink them. “I want you to taste me.”

“Oh, good girl.” Bucky’s growl of praise almost has her collapsing into a puddle, but his hands on her hips keep her steady. Not wanting to lose the momentum she’s building, he slides his hands up her back to her bra, asking her, “Can I take this off?”

She’s already made it this far, the intensity of her insecurities starting to lessen each time she reveals more of herself to him. With a nod of her head, she gives him permission, unable to look away as he slowly unhooks her bra, his fingers immediately rubbing along the indentations left behind.

The soft moan of relief she makes has him grinning up at her, and he slowly slides the straps down her arms, giving her a moment to adjust to this new level of vulnerability.

With his gaze still on her face, he tosses her bra aside to join the rest of their clothes and softly asks her, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” The words come easily this time, despite her nerves trying to get the better of her. She’s insecure about her breasts, gravity having caught up to her before she thought it would, and she finds herself wanting his approval.

In reality, it doesn’t matter what he thinks of her body, but he’s more than happy to help her see what he sees.

Matching his pace of the entire evening, his fingers brush along the sides of her breasts, the feather-light touch causing her nipples to pebble.

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells her, unable to tear his gaze away from the way her body immediately arches towards his touch.

Bucky’s given her no reason to doubt his words, and the moment he cups her breast in his hand, her fingers slide into his hair as if to guide him closer.

He doesn’t make her ask for it this time, and she barely registers his breath on her skin before his tongue flicks out to lick her nipple.

The sound she makes causes his cock to twitch and he wastes no time trying to bring more of those noises out of her.

With his heavily-tattooed arm wrapped around her to support her, he immediately closes his lips around the erect bud, his free hand moving to her other nipple. 

It’s like he’s on a mission to see just how loud he can make her get before she demands more from him.

It doesn’t take long, her body trembling against him, both her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands.

“Bucky,” she moans, meeting his gaze as he switches sides, his fingers now playing with her saliva-slick nipple. 

All he does is grin at her in return, the gentle scrape of his teeth giving her the last push she needs. He can practically see the last of her walls starting to crumble, and as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, she manages to surprise him yet again.

“Please,” she pleads, unable to hide how breathless he’s already made her. “I want you to taste me.”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky groans against her breast. He immediately pulls back and slides his hand up to wrap his fingers around her throat, his tender touch adding to her pleasure. “Is that what you need, baby? You want me to lick your pussy?”

All it takes is a quick confirmation from her and he’s guiding her onto the bed, more than ready to show her what she’s been missing out on. 

Within just a few moments, he has her naked and writhing underneath him, his mouth starting at her neck, taking his time to kiss down her soft curves.

By the time he’s placing kisses along her inner thighs, she’s forgotten about all the reasons why she almost didn’t ask for this. All thoughts about her ex-boyfriend are gone, as are her insecurities, and she runs her fingers through his hair, whining softly, “Please.”

Bucky will never tire of hearing that word. And with one last glance up at her, he helps her push her thighs back a bit more, giving him the perfect view of her pussy. 

“Mmm.” The groan that leaves him makes her pulse, her hips shifting underneath his hold, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Eager, are we?” he teases, taking a moment to give her thigh another soft kiss, his beard tickling her pussy.

The question should make her blush - and any other time it would - but Bucky’s good at what he does. He’s somehow made her comfortable enough that not only does she not blush, she actually laughs. With a grin on her face, she quickly nods her head and tells him, “Yes. I am.”

Bucky’s so proud of her. She’s already come so far, and he quickly praises her with a soft rumble of, “Good girl.” 

And then he’s rewarding her, the slow swipe of his tongue along her slit immediately reducing her to a low whine of, “Oh my god.” He repeats the action, licking her from her dripping entrance up to her clit, teasing the bud with just the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my god.” She’s not sure she knows how to say anything else right now. She’s barely breathing at this point anyway, her entire body tense with anticipation.

And then he has the nerve to pull away, giving her another grin to tell her, “You were right.” 

She blinks, her hands fisting the sheets, her legs already shaking. All she can think about is having his mouth back on her pussy. She has no clue what he’s talking about.

“You taste so fucking good.”

Oh.

She’s not sure she even says anything, but it doesn’t matter because he dips his head back down and gets back to work, tasting her again.

Bucky alternates between long, slow licks and sliding his tongue deep inside of her, wiggling the muscle along her walls. He’s paying attention to all the ways she reacts to what he’s doing, repeating every action that makes her moan or shudder.

She gets lost in the moment, unsure of what to do with her hands, one gripping the sheets while the other holds her ankle, keeping herself spread for him. 

She can feel her pleasure building, but the longer he’s between her thighs, the more her insecurities start to resurface. Maybe this isn’t going to happen. No one’s been able to make her come before.

She’s always been responsible for her own orgasm, and while Bucky seems confident in his abilities, her doubt is starting to creep back up. 

When he returns his attention back to her clit, Bucky dragging the flat of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, she whispers his name. She feels compelled to apologize, like she’s wasting his time, but the only thing she can get out is, “I can’t.”

He pauses, but doesn’t pull his hands away, his fingers slick with her arousal as he looks up at her. Recognizing the confusion and embarrassment on her face, he realizes one crucial mistake he’s made. 

Bucky indulges himself with one more lick before he sets her at ease, explaining, “I’m not trying to make you come yet, baby. I just wanted to taste you, see what you like first.” His thumb teases over her clit as he kisses the soft skin of her inner thigh and asks her, “Is that okay?”

Just like that, he manages to get her back into the right headspace.

After a slow nod of her head, he’s bringing her pleasure again, exploring every inch of her pussy. He's enjoying taking his time, finding all the ways she likes to be touched, learning her body so he can give her what she needs. 

He’s also teasing her. Using his knowledge to make her more desperate. He hopes to get her to the point where she can ask for everything she wants without having to get this overwhelmed.

After his mouth moves away from her clit to lick across her entrance, he hears the change in her breathing. His quick glance shows him that her hands have moved to her tits, her fingers tugging at her nipples, and it tells him everything he needs to know.

Bucky returns his tongue to her clit, slowly circling the swollen bud before closing his lips around it, the soft suction causing her back to arch and she quickly nods her head, whispering, “oh god, please.”

But he pulls away again, her soft gasping whine proving he’s on the right track. She’s almost there. Just another quick tease of his tongue sliding inside of her, then back to suckling on her clit. That’s all it takes.

Her hand comes down to his head, fingers gripping his hair, as she breathlessly begs him, “Yes. Please. Just like that.”

This time, Bucky doesn’t move or pull away. He groans against her, unable to stop his hips from grinding against the mattress, her words sending pleasure straight to his cock. 

With each flick of his tongue, her noises get louder, the coil in her belly growing tighter.

She might actually come from this. Bucky might actually be able to make her come. 

That’s all she can think about. 

One hand in his hair, the other back to white-knuckling the sheet, using it for leverage to grind herself against his mouth. She can feel the pressure building, her muscles growing taut, her legs shaking uncontrollably. 

She’s going to come.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, seemingly unable to say anything else again. But Bucky still doesn’t change anything he’s doing, staying exactly where he is, his tongue never stopping. “Oh my god,” she repeats, nodding her head, desperate for this to happen.

It’s her downfall.

Just when she thinks it’s finally going to happen for her, the feeling suddenly starts to fade. The whine that leaves her, coupled with the frustrated, “No” has her quickly covering her flushed face.

The last thing Bucky wants is for her to think she’s done anything wrong. Or, even worse, that there’s something wrong with her. Because, there isn’t.

“Shhh,” he soothes her, peppering kisses along her thighs. His thumb returns to her clit, Bucky wanting to keep her pleasure building towards that peak again, and he tells her, “It’s okay. Sometimes we can get in our head. And sometimes... it’s just because we need more.”

She’s able to lower her hands away from her face to look down at him. It’s obvious he’s still enjoying himself, and all he wants is for her to be right there with him. It still takes her a moment of slow breathing for her to finally nod her head at him.

“Can you tell me what you think you need right now?” His slick thumb glides over her clit again before dipping down between her folds, teasing across her entrance. 

Her body immediately responds, her hips seeking out more, wanting him inside of her. 

Bucky tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at her, the smile on his face growing. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” 

It does the trick. With another shift of her hips, and more teasing pressure from his thumb, she nods her head. She doesn’t know how, but the words spill out of her without a second thought. “Fuck me, please.”

It takes every once of his control not to immediately let his thumb sink inside of her. She’s so wet, just begging to be filled, but it’s the perfect time to get her to verbalize her needs.

Bucky sits up on his knees just a bit, circling his thumb against her entrance before sliding it back up to her clit. He interrupts her needy whine with, “How do you want me to fuck you?”

She knows what he’s doing. And she’s incredibly grateful for it. Between quick and shallow breaths, she tells him, “With your fingers. Please.”

He tests her resolve, watching her closely as he starts to rub his thumb against her again, almost pushing inside of her. She immediately shakes her head and he pauses, a grin lighting up his face.

Bucky doesn’t even have to ask, she’s more than willing to tell him exactly what she wants. Her words coming quickly. “Please. Fuck me with your fingers. Two of them.”

His growl of praise immediately floods her brain, causing pleasure to radiate from her core. “Oh good girl,” he tells her, more than ready to give her what she wants,  “I’m so proud of you.” 

The cry that comes out of her as he fills her is unlike anything she’s ever made before. Her back arches and she reaches for him, grabbing his tattooed hand as his two thick fingers immediately find the spot that always seemed to allude others.

Bucky has every intention of tasting her again, planning to make her come with his mouth on her clit while he fucks her with his fingers.

He just wants to take a moment to watch her, enjoying the way the curl of his fingers causes her to gasp. His own body throbbing with pleasure as he strokes along her front wall, drawing more noises from her.

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, interlocking their fingers as his gaze travels along her body from her thighs to her face, his cock leaking pre-cum at the sight of her.

When she’s able to accept his compliment without looking away, he increases the pressure, listening to the sounds of her wetness fill the air. 

She’s finally at that point that he promised she’d get to. Where she feels nothing but pleasure, able to bask in the connection they’re sharing.

“I wanna come for you.” There’s nothing quiet about her request, even as she struggles to get the words out between her soft gasps and moans.

“You really are incredible,” he tells her, eagerly returning to his earlier position, his head between her thighs. 

With his fingers still deep inside of her, he presses his tattooed arm against her thigh and places his palm flat against her lower stomach, using his fingers to spread her, exposing her clit.

She welcomes his touch, not a care in the world about how exposed she feels or how his hand digs into her soft belly. In fact, she doesn’t care how she looks at all. All she cares about his how close his mouth is to her pussy again, the feel of his warm breath making her whisper, “Please.”

Bucky glances up at her, a serious look on his face, quieting her pleading for the moment. 

“There’s no rush here, do you understand?” He accepts the slight nod of her head before continuing, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “If I need a break, I’ll tell you. Until then,” his raises his eyebrows in excitement, “let’s just enjoy ourselves, yeah?”

She’s quick to agree, forcing herself to relax, resting her head against the pillow. She doesn’t even try to keep her eyes open anymore, the return of his tongue to her clit practically making her forget her name. 

With the pressure of his fingers inside of her, rubbing against her g-spot, there’s suddenly not a doubt in her mind that Bucky’s going to make her come.

It still rushes up on her quickly, her senses completely overloaded - the obscene noises his mouth makes against her clit, the slight scratch of his beard on her pussy, the smell of sex lingering in the air.

“I’m gonna come,” she gasps, one hand on her breast, the other on his head, gripping his hair. “Please don’t stop.”

He actually has the audacity to laugh against her, but he has no intentions of stopping. The rhythm of his tongue never changes, Bucky already knowing exactly how to lick her to get her there. 

She allows herself to be consumed by the pleasure he’s giving her, and the moment her hips start to move faster against him, her thighs threatening to close, the groan he makes causes her to fall over the edge.

Bucky keeps her held down, even as her body bucks against him, using his strength to keep his mouth on her clit and his fingers buried inside of her. 

She’s so tight, barely allowing fingers to move at all, but it doesn’t matter, he just keeps stroking her g-spot, prolonging her pleasure as long as she’ll let him. 

It feels like it lasts forever, her body riding out the waves until she’s left a wrecked, trembling mess, incoherent words escaping her lips.

Once Bucky’s sure she’s had as much as she can take, he quickly kisses up her body to pull her into his arms. She wraps herself around him, clinging to him, burying her face against him as he soothes her with soft words of praise.

“You did so good for me.”

“Such a good girl.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

As her body starts to relax, she welcomes his mouth on hers, moaning at the taste of her arousal on his lips. It makes her want more and it’s not long before her hips move underneath him, grinding herself against his covered erection.

Bucky rests his forehead against hers and lets out his own moan of pleasure, his neglected cock wanting nothing more than to fuck her and feel her come. He won’t do anything unless she asks for it though.

The look she’s giving him tells him she knows exactly what’s going through his mind. But, she doesn’t ask him to fuck her. Not yet.

First, she asks for something else - something she thought she wouldn’t want to do, her request catching Bucky off guard, causing his hips to thrust against her.

“Can I suck your cock?”

---------------------------

Next Part

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[anneapocalypse]

On Wuk Lamat, and Female Characters in FFXIV

The Thing with Wuk Lamat is you can tell me you think she had too much screentime; you can give me numbers on how many lines she had or how many scenes she's in relative to other characters or other expacs; you can prove to me "objectively" that she gets more focus than other main NPCs; you're simply not going to convince me that this is something I should be unhappy about. And not just because it's silly to think you can use numbers to prove a story is good or bad and make someone else go, "Wow, you're right, let me just throw away all the joy I experienced with this story and revise my opinion because you've scientifically proven to me that I'm wrong."

Because while I love Final Fantasy XIV and I have greatly enjoyed its story in so many ways, fundamentally one of my biggest beefs with this game has been how much female characters have been denied complex character arcs and growth and agency and interiority.

Minfilia gets treated as a sacrificial vessel who lives for everyone but herself and doesn't even get to have feelings about her own death because that entire arc is focused on a male character's angst about it instead. The game tells us in the Heavensward patches that Krile sees Minfilia as her best friend and then just forgets about that later and never follows up on what that loss must have meant to her. Ysayle is basically right about most of what she's fighting for but harboring a bit of self-delusion is apparently such a terrible sin that she has to pay for it with her life, while her male foil is deemed so worthy of salvation that there's a whole plot point about how important it is that we risk our lives and others' lives to save him. Y'shtola is a major character who's been around since the beginning, and the game keeps dropping maddeningly interesting things about her (apprenticed to a cranky old witch in a cave! saved her own life and the lives of her friends with an illegal and dangerous spell and it worked! reserved and undemonstrative yet regularly through her actions reveals herself to be deeply caring! disabled!) and then shows complete disinterest in following up on any of those things with the kind of depth and care shown to male characters with complex arcs like Urianger.

In general there is also a repeated thread of female characters being portrayed as weak or overly emotional: Minfilia is weak because she doesn't fight and needs to be eaten by a god in order to gain "a strength long sought." Krile is portrayed as not being able to pull her weight with the Scions (despite the fact that she actively keeps five of them from dying in Shadowbringers) and the only thing they could think of for her to do in Endwalker was be yet another vessel for Hydaelyn (hmm, that sounds familiar) and it's not until Dawntrail that she gets much actual character development in the main story and even that has to come alongside "Look, she can fight now so that means she's useful." (And I love Picto!Krile, I'm just saying, there's a pattern.) Alisaie, despite having very good reasons for needing to find her own path apart from her brother, is portrayed as having to prove herself when she returns, that she's "not the girl she once was," and "will not be a burden" (while Alphinaud is repeatedly given the benefit of the doubt and reassurance and affirmation from other characters even after he takes on responsibilities he isn't ready for and fucks up big time).

And if you follow me you know I adore Urianger, and I love Alphinaud and Thancred and Estinien too, so please don't misunderstand what I'm saying here! I'm not knocking those characters, or saying we shouldn't also love them. I just use them as a comparison to demonstrate how the female characters have been neglected.

Lyse has some of the stronger character development among the female Scions, and while she's still kind of portrayed as being too emotional and hotheaded in early Stormblood, I think it's actually explored in more depth in a way that I like; Lyse has good reasons for wanting to fight for her nation's freedom, but having been away from Ala Mhigo for several years now, she needs to understand the stakes for the people who've been there fighting for years, what they've lost and still have to lose. She grows as a person and rises to the challenge of leadership, and I'm even okay with the fact that she leaves the Scions afterward because it feels right for her to stay in Ala Mhigo, and at least she doesn't die.

And by all accounts she was, like Wuk Lamat, widely hated when her expansion came out.

Unironically I think the other female Scion with the strongest character arc is Tataru. She tries to take up a combat job, finds that it's not for her, and decides to focus on where her strengths are instead. In doing so, she both holds the Scions together as an organization in the absence of a leader by capably managing their finances, and also comes into her own as a businesswoman and makes international connections that benefit both the Scions and her personally. In contrast to Minfilia, she's not portrayed as weak because she doesn't fight, and is actually allowed to be an important character who's good for more than being sacrificed. Tataru is still distinctly in a supporting role for the player character, however, and her character arc happens as a side story that takes up a relatively small amount of screentime over several expansions, which I think is probably why she doesn't evoke such a negative reaction.

But there is a pattern of the game's writing showing disinterest in the interior lives of female characters generally, and in making their growth the focus of a story.

So yeah, I'm going to be happy about Wuk Lamat! I'm going to enjoy and celebrate every moment of her character arc, of her personal growth, of watching her put the lessons she's learned into action. I'm going to love and treasure every moment when she gets to be silly, embarrassing, emotional, scared, grieving, confused, upset, seasick, impulsive, and still deemed worthy of growing into a hero and a leader. I will love her with all of my soul and you simply will not convince me that it wasn't worth the screentime after such a profound imbalance for basically the entirety of the game. We've never had a major female character get such a strong arc with this much love and attention put into it and that means more to me than I can truly say. The backlash to it is disheartening, as this kind of thing always is, but I'm not going to let it ruin the wonderful experience I had playing it and how much joy it continues to bring me.

And for those of you who don't want any of that for a female character, thank goodness you have Heavensward and Shadowbringers and Endwalker and no one can take those away from you.

(And if you follow me you know that I love Shadowbringers and Endwalker and have very fond memories of Heavensward despite some issues with it, so not only can I not take that from you, I am not trying to!)

Some of us have been real hungry for a character like this with an arc like this, so, I think, y'know, maybe we can have that. As a treat.

[mxtxfanatic]

Bing-ge and Victim's Entitlement as Portrayed by MXTX

I was thinking about Bing-ge’s journey as an abuse victim into an abuser and how much the creation of Bing-mei is a critique on both the writing trope that creates Bing-ge as well as the societal expectations that drive it.

In the world of PIDW, one of Shen Yuan’s main critiques was about how terribly the young Luo Binghe is treated by the narrative, so much so that he views it as torture porn. From being abandoned as a baby, to being abused as a servant and watching his adoptive mother wither from sickness and die, to finding his way to Cang Qiong Mountain and suffering under a cruel shizun who then pushes him into hell, Shen Yuan finds all this unnecessarily cruel. However, Shang Qinghua knows that the trauma Luo Binghe suffers directly correlates to the enjoyment readers are meant to get out of the second half of the protagonist’s life when he becomes overpowered and primed for vengeance. Shen Yuan knows this, too, as this is the trope he girds himself with as Shen Qingqiu to work up the nerve to push his disciple into the Endless Abyss, to “earn” his happiness. However, is this a true happiness? Does the trauma justify any and all of Luo Binghe’s actions?

On the surface, Bing-ge seems happy! He is able to enact revenge on Shen Jiu—and demolish Cang Qiong Mountain Sect who acted as accomplices to his abuse—and was given narrative access to any and every woman of marriageable age who crossed his path. He is even able to destroy his world by merging the three realms with no consequences to himself. Bing-ge has seemingly reaped the twisted “reward” that having survived unconscionable abuse and abandonment from the time of his birth had sown for him, and PIDW readers were able to enjoy and defend Bing-ge’s later megalomaniacal actions directly because they had read through hundreds of pages of his ill-treatment beforehand. The worse Luo Binghe’s childhood was, the more they were willing to accept of his actions in adulthood. We see a similar thing take place in the SVSSS fandom: the reveal of Shen Jiu’s past as a child slave is used to justify his later abuse of his child disciples—children who had no hand in his trauma but who he has decided to bear the brunt of it, anyways. But Shen Jiu lived a very unfulfilling adulthood due to his unwarranted actions until his untimely death. Is Luo Binghe any different?

Enter Bing-mei: the revised protagonist who abandons revenge in pursuit of experiencing genuine affection from the only person who gave it unconditionally. No, Bing-mei doesn’t get all the girls or all the power. He does not become the emperor of all three realms and he is not an uncontested leader that all conscious beings bow to. In fact, he is very tame and controlled in comparison to his PIDW counterpart despite not having complete control of his sword that amplifies his negative emotions. But when Bing-ge slips into the world of SVSSS and discovers that, despite all of this, Bing-mei has an intact world, platonic relationships, and a shizun who loves him, he’s willing to throw it all away to experience that same life. Bing-ge is revealed to be the unhappy, unfulfilled one, because the one thing he wanted—genuine unconditional love—was the one thing that he cannot earn or forcibly take. No amount of audience hype can change the fact that Bing-ge must leave behind the happy Bingqiu couple to return to his destroyed world in his unsatisfying reality.

This isn’t just a theme in SVSSS, either; it’s present in all of MXTX’s works in how people—both characters and the irl fandom—react to antagonists and asshole characters who have experienced trauma. In mdzs: a female cultivator tries to say that Jin Ling endangering other cultivators should be forgiven “since he’s an orphan.” Jiang Cheng throws his parents’ and sister’s death around to justify being an unrepentant serial killer. Jin Guangyao cries about how much his father hates him compared to the legitimate Jin heirs that he murdered. In tgcf: Qi Rong escapes discipline at every turn because his mother had to escape with him from his abusive father, and Mu Qing’s transgressions against the marginalized are ignored because “he was poor, once.” All of these characters have their actions whitewashed both in their stories and by their fandoms at large because their defenders believe that their trauma excuses any of their subsequent behavior.

Yet, MXTX does not prescribe to this idea. Notice the pattern of how the above characters end their stories. Jiang Cheng tanks his reputation and loses the respect of his only living relative. Jin Guangyao and Qi Rong die. But Jin Ling experiences setback after setback until he adjusts his behavior, and Mu Qing had to earnestly apologize under harrowing circumstances to be forgiven. It is not characters who seek justice for being harmed who are punished in these novels but those who persevere in their entitlement to do whatever they want because they were once harmed, thereby eventually destroy any goodwill others, particularly their loved ones, had towards them. The characters who are able to contain their actions to aim only at those who wronged them or else honestly reflect on their sense of entitlement in order to change for the better become well-liked by their peers. And as for Bing-ge: his inability to change within the narrative of PIDW may have “earned” him all the material things his world could offer and the affections of an unseen audience, besides, but he misses out on true human connection and love. These are the things he can never forcibly take, because in real life, no amount of trauma would entitle him—or anyone—to those things.

[brynn-lear]

Note: these are all yandere characters I had back in 2022. I'm describing them very vaguely. I can't bring myself to spoil even minute details I find intruiging even though it's unlikely I'll make this webtoon-isekai-otome game concept come to life. Shoutout to mochi and harmony. I would've forgotten these men exist if it weren't for them lol

Yan!Butler: People kept mistaking your deceased brother's butler as a nobleman, especially with how you both appear to be best friends rather than master-servant. His butler is one of your greatest allies and critic; not once has he missed his chance to tease you in such “polite” yet convoluted ways. But you at least know his sharp tongue comes from a place of affection, and not from disdain as he would with other nobility. Your older brother took him under the family's care when his small village was brutally extinguished by unknown assailants. That butler thinks all other nobles deserve gruesome ends. There's not a single day where he does not feel paranoid. So when you feel as though the pavement you passed by in your private gardens had splotches of red… you turn a blind eye. You trust your brother and his allies. As long as you ignore that what he does is far beyond ensuring your brother's safety, you can go on sleeping peacefully at night.

Yan!Eccentric Immortal: You honestly thought it was so weird for a wandering pink-haired tourist to wear red shades and a short-sleeved shirt with tons of hibiscus printed on it, but whatever floats his boat. At least, that's what you thought at first before you struck a conversation with him out of pure boredom. No matter how… “modern” he looks, he was dejected enough at the time to confess that he came to see how his hometown looks— only to discover it is practically unrecognizable. He kept pointing to business shops, claiming some used to be parks, a small forest, his favorite bookstore, and a place his old buddy used to have a successful shoe factory on. And then it hit you. This man you're with… is one of your ancestor's mayor turned revolutionary best friend who struck a contract with the devil. There's one small problem... You're involved in said contract.

("Oh, so he's immortal, huh… no wonder he was burying his face in his mushroom hat when we were walking around in the museum. On one hand, impressive that he was the first man ever photographed, but he's also the first photobomber ever. He was just cleaning his shoes and got in the way…")

[More descriptions utc]

Yan!Crown Prince: He is your childhood friend crown prince, who was once a quiet and lonesome kid. You belonged to the very few children who properly befriended him, but in each playtime, he always clung to you tightly. The adult nobles in your life had always made it a point to remind you to be wary of his lineage. “The royal bloodline’s first love is their last— and such obsession reigns supreme.” There is also a legend of how the first king confessed to his tactician after the war. However, he dismembered & hid her limbs when he faced rejection. The royal family has been plagued with unrequited love and unhappy marriages since then, yet you don’t believe him capable of perverse and violent thoughts. He harbors a hopeless puppy-like “one-sided” affection on another childhood friend of yours (THE main female lead) but he takes it “like a champ”, you're sure of it!!! Plus, the prince has grown so mature and independent, always asking for your counsel on politics more than personal affairs. You haven't met a man who enjoyed his duties as much as he does. If anything, he has distanced himself from you… Right?

Yan!Doctor: As a child from a loving noble home, you had remained firm in your stance on committing acts of kindness. When an injured kid your age was starving outside your estate, you did not hesitate to order your brother's butler to fetch food and drinks. Since he was nameless and you weren't one to gloss over a book of baby names— you gave him one that sounds like a dog’s. Years later, you've fallen gravely ill. No physician across the continent could help you despite your philanthropist reputation. But there was one who had done the impossible. The doctor cured you in under a month, and when you tried to cover his services, he said everything was paid with “three glasses of milk and a box of biscuits.” Honestly, you should've remembered who he was sooner, considering how strange his name was. Despite such a grand revelation that he apparently owes you his life, there's unbridled hunger beyond his “kind” eyes. Something lonely and unhinged.

Yan!Ex-Hitman/Politician: There was a boy you've always seen each time you went to church. You see him every week that you both watched each other grow up. Apparently he came from a noble bloodline just like you, but despite being the eldest, his parents greatly favored his younger sibling. Deciding he had no talent to best him, the boy went to the monastery to practice the word of God instead. You always thought he was an ambitious and good-hearted person— especially since it's not exactly common for someone in their late twenties to aspire for the position of prime minister and appear so incredibly wholesome. On your quest to find someone to help you solve the mystery behind your older brother's death— you found out that the kind mint-eyed man who often carved wooden toys and sewed plushies for the orphans was the notorious hitman who killed plenty of corrupt nobles in his prime. Could he be behind your brother's death…?

[tocomplainfriend]

SEE!? THEY DON'T CARE!

TW: Rape, SA, Homophobia, Misogyny, Misandry

The specific censored word with "-", it's for my own reasons and comfort. It's not censored up and in tags due to filtering! Sorry if I made mistakes like forgetting of filtering or similar, I haven't used tumblr much before!

THIS IS A R-PE JOKE! THAT'S WHAT I HAVE BEEN FUCKING SAYING! ONE OF MY BIGGEST PROBLEMS WITH EPISODE 4 IS THE FACT OF "we want to write an empowering story about men getting sexually assaulted. Men victim don't get that attentio-" BITCH, YOU MADE MANY R-PE AND SA JOKES ALL THE FUCKING WAY THROUGH HELLUVA AND KNOW HAZBIN! You are the one making fun of scenarios where your male characters get assaulted or r-ped.

HOW TF DO YOU PRETEND TO BE SOOO ABOVE PEOPLE (INCLUDING VICTIMS OF SA AND R-PE) THAT'S EXPRESSED HOW THEY FELT ON THE EXECUTIONS AND WHO WORKED IN EPISODE 4. WHEN YOU YOURSELF MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT????? For some context, Sir Pent is trying to get with Cherri, but always deflects first in case she rejects him. He offers her a drink, but immediately says it's because he'll buy a drink for everyone on the club. Then he asks Cherri if they can have sex- and deflects back (a repetition joke) "Because I'll have sex with everyone here". Then he gets dragged into a room by other people, yelling wait and no! And the door closes as you heard him scream.

Out of context in the screenshot, you might even think it might be a serious scene where something happens to Pentious. BUT NO! IT'S BRUSHED OVER REAL FAST AND PLAYED AS "HAHA SOMETHING BAD HAPPEN TO SIR PENTIOUS AGAIN LMAOO"- it's the punchline.

Then at the end of the episode he gets out asking "Where is Cherri" (who btw is having sex with a random guy).

And please don't say "Well, he asked for it"- you know how you sound. The whole point of the joke is that he is trying to get with Cherri and failing astronomically. The point here is that he really doesn't want to have sex with a bunch of random people, but he has to do it because he is getting dragged into a room. (Again, Pentious is like Moxxie Their joke it's getting trashed and bullied by the world or people around them).

You made a whole episode about dealing with a male character's sexual assault, abuse or r-pe. Saying how much you respect victims, and your episode, it's just perfect about the topic. BlaBlaBla- no, you don't. You made all this jokes since HB season 1. This new joke was episode 6 of HH. You never acknowledge power dynamics, or coercion. You never acknowledge anything bad in your show.

Remember, as much as this shows go for LGBTQ+ representation and Queer media. As a ""Female lead show"". This jokes link back (not only to making fun of SA and R-pe itself, but to) homophobia and Misogyny. A scenario of where a man gets SA'ed or r-ped by another man or woman- leads to a scenario where the character is made fun of for not being "masculine enough" for being a victim or for not being able to defend themselves. In a scenario where this happens by a man to man, "It's funny because the victim is viewed as gay. As less masculine = gay and that's bad cause gay = weak and feminine and the idea of feminine = weak".

(There are a few jokes here and there, like Blitzo touching Moxxie's dick after making fun of him for having a baby penis.)

If you didn't notice, Moxxie gets attacked by multiple succubus, and that's apparently funny. KEEP IN MIND is not basic physical violence-no he comes out with lipstick kisses marks, the sounds effects are (ugh)... and Blitz tells him "Don't let them access any of your holes". In other concepts, I want to point out that the times when Moxxie is viewed as a bottom or feminine- he is made fun of. When Millie pegs him, he is made fun of because he is the man of the relationship, being implied as the bottom. When he wears the outfit of unhappy campers, he is extra objectified or made fun of even more than in any other episodes. He is also forcefully put on a dress in his wedding.

He is made fun of for being SA'ed for being uncomfortable scenarios:

These aren't jokes made by characters that "are bad because they are from hell". These are scripted jokes written by a person searching for the audience to laugh.

AND the reason why many audiences accept this jokes or even find them funny is because of some of these views (internalized or not) above. You'll also notice how all these jokes are directed at men (if you find an R-pe or SA joke directed at a woman in this two show, say something about it! POINT IT OUT!). People accept and write these jokes more because they care less about the idea of a man being a victim of such situation. More often than not- in the present, a woman getting assaulted or anything similar in any media gets noticed and called out. THESE JOKES OR THE NORMALIZATION OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT, ASSAULT, COERCION, OR SIMILAR TOWARDS WOMAN STILL HAPPENS!!!! There is an idea that men just tend to just want sex all times at any time. -And that a man getting SA'ed or r-ped by a woman it's just sex, cause "Why wouldn't you like free pussy". When it's a gay perpetrator is viewed as funny cause "that makes you gay or a woman" and that's apparently hilarious. Men can be r-ped no matter what. Men can be targets of all of these acts.

Remember that all the scenes of sexual abuse, harassment and r-pe in Poison are directed by the R2. Who, once again, is into r-pe porn- and they themselves said they are not an SA victim either. So remember, not even a victim trying to cope with their own R-pe or SA. This person draws and ships "R-pe ships", and tags it as "naughty men uwu" bullshit. Also, a person so obsessed with the character of Angel that they changed their name to Tony (Angel's real human name), make themselves look like him, and become a sex worker like Angel. They themselves looked at a comic of Val threatening r-pe and abuse on Angel as "thank good you have balls to draw something mean with these too, I was so bored" ???? (this stuff is in:) and cosplay and take photos of your Val x Angel ship

Congrats if you as a victim yourself thought that the scene with Angel was good. If it helped you be and feel seen. But remember the rest of the show, the hypocritical writers, don't care enough to view it as a serious topic to not joke about. Both HB and HH written by the same people (as in Vivziepop), take their sweet time to turn these topics into jokes.

What pisses off more, it's the trying to make yourself be viewed as a sensitive person about such topic. Make it seem like you are a savior for writing about it in such "serious, powerful and not sugar coded" way. But then you drop that on the fucking ground to make a joke about it when you are tired of pretending you are so good. If you were so informed of SA and r-pe, you wouldn't be making these jokes. If you knew how much SA male victims struggle to get viewed as serious or their stories taken into account-you wouldn't be this shitty.

God, you are so proud of the joke too.

My poor snake guy... one of the few characters that I like-

[sugar-grigri]

Fans are Denji's source of unhappiness

First observation: Fumiko is worse than Barem

I don't like making meaningless comparisons, especially in a work like Chainsaw Man where when the characters aren't nuts, they remain at least morally gray. But this comparison makes sense in the sense that the construction of the chapter refers to it. As usual, let's analyze this by following the chapter's chronology.

This one takes place in a funfair, which is not an insignificant location, but we'll come back to that later. These few lines of dialogue already evoke a very simple idea: Denji isn't so stupid that he wouldn't know he was being manipulated. He knows full well that Fumiko was placed in Yoshida's care not to protect him, but to keep a close eye on him, to prevent him from turning and joining the church.

But she tries to disprove all this, evoking the ecstasy one might feel if one were Chainsaw Man. Being Chainsaw Man is also a source of unhappiness for Denji, who corrects her, and Fumiko adapts to his speech, looking for the first negative point that comes to mind. I think it was a real mistake for Fumiko to mention this point, but once again, she adapts to Denji's reaction. He's completely horrified at having been observed in the bathroom, so she shares his negative view of the situation.

She knows that Denji's main objective is sex-related, so she builds on that by downplaying what she's doing. This is fan behavior; fans are sexually obsessed with Denji in the hope that it will delight him. But Fumiko knows no bounds, either ignoring his consent or stalking him, which logically engages Denji's rejection reaction again.

Once again, he perceives the means of manipulation with the word "fan", and rejects it. So far, these experiences have only been negative and intrusive, and even when they have been positive, whether with Asa romantically or Power platonically, the demon of control, another female figure, has put an end to them.

But instead of stopping the manipulation, Fumiko goes on to confirm Denji's words even as they express pure disgust and rejection. For a character who knows absolutely no limits, she may also override stopping this conservation, but she continues with her family history. If public demon hunters know anything about Denji apart from his natural distrust and need for affection, whether sentimental or physical, it's his sensitivity.

I can't say that the story Fumiko tells is a complete lie, just as I can't say that she's telling the truth. She's a hunter, and anything she mentions could well have ended up in a report, especially given the national authorities' interest in the gun demon. But even if her story is true, the tragic aspect, not for her but for Denji, is even stronger.

Fumiko says she lost her parents because of the gun demon, that CSM didn't hear her cries for help. I'd like to remind you that chapter 79, the chapter in which she refers to Aki's death, is dedicated to the trauma of what it means to be Chainsaw Man.

For the demon from the future, Aki died in the worst possible way, not for him, but for Denji. It's clear that the little boy is forcing himself to continue this snowball fight he no longer wants to play.

At first, he tries to reason with Aki, forcing him to wake up, but when he himself is shot trying to spare one of his only loved ones, people won't let him lose. Chainsaw Man is a weapon of vengeance into which everyone projects their frustrations, the deaths of their loved ones. Denji was forced to be resurrected, to kill Aki not for himself, but for the community. Chainsaw Man never acts for himself. If Aki died in the worst way for Denji, it's because his fans, this community, forced him back to life to remove one of his sources of love.

Denji was traumatized by having to win.

Let's be clear: it wasn't Denji who ignored their calls for help, it was they who ignored his.

Isn't it tragic to criticize Chainsaw Man for not hearing Fumiko's cries for help, or the cries of all those people, when he was instead so compelled by them, like a machine that would be reset to kill a loved one ? Chainsaw Man, on the other hand, hears all the pain in the world. This doesn't mean that Denji is altruistic - he isn't. He's closer to amorality than compassion, but like a permanently dehumanized machine, he must serve others. It has no morals, so how can it live for itself ?

That's why what Fumiko says is so paradoxical: saving Denji means finally allowing him to live for himself, granting him the right not to hear all those voices.

She doesn't mean what she says when she says she's never thought of him as a god, but simply as a child in need of protection. She's only setting up a dissident discourse to that of the church, which idealizes him by banking on the part of identity that is Denji, while the church banks on Chainsaw Man. How can someone who is constantly sexually abusing Denji be competent to protect a boy?

This chapter is about setting limits for children. To have access to the merry-go-round, you have to be over 1m10 tall. These clear limits were never set for Denji, either when he was forced to kill Aki or even when he explores his sexuality.

Having killed his father, been martyred by the mafia and then manipulated by a demon, Denji is now at the heart of other vicious circles. He's condemned to being too young an adult, watching over Nayuta like a parent while children play behind him, not enjoying the funfair with friends, a girlfriend, being cloistered on that bench. The bench represents the stagnation in Denji's life, his questioning, placed on the bench of his own life, his name unknown to his fans, his nature instrumentalized, his age ignored.

Denji needs and must be considered with the age he is, a 17-year-old teenager. Yet even this characteristic, even the fact that he's still a child, is ignored by Fumiko, hence her insistence on the word "senpai".

The treatment of Fumiko is good, I find her to be the very embodiment of Denji's sexual trauma in the sense that she constantly manipulates him to play on his interests, and constantly ignores his own desires, his limits.

Fumiko manipulates, hence the emphasis on her outraged expression when Barem interrupts. If Barem's manipulation is more grotesque, it's not to manipulate Denji but to mock Fumiko's strategy. Although it's incredibly more insidious, the weapon has a clear idea of what she's up to.

And yet, in just a few sentences, it's right on target. It's much closer to Denji's reality than to Fumiko's human perspective. Weapons are seen as weapons, machines at the service of humans, whose immortality is a pain, as it leads them to the trauma of always winning.

Barem uses a cigarette, obviously reminiscent of those smoked by Aki, who had given in to Himeko's advances and needed an outlet for his stress. Aki's misfortune is to have spent his life on revenge, living to avenge the dead, not living for himself. The cigarette was his flaw, the proof of his humanity, the one he threw at Denji to spare him the pain of getting involved in the horrible business of hunting demons.

Whether or not it was there to manipulate Denji by reminding him of his older brother, whether or not it was there by chance, it conveyed the same message: proof of the humanity of a man who lived for others. A man who was executed once again for that same community.

This community, Denji's fan club, is the cause of his deepest misfortune. Chainsaw Man has never been so popular, yet Denji has never been alone. Because he's not allowed to have loved ones. Nayuta, too, is proof of this: she wants her brother for herself, and convinces him that he's loved by others by acting under the cover of Chainsaw Man.

That's why Denji's intervention to stop the attack in progress is much less certain. All these fans, this humanity waiting for Chainsaw Man, are the source of his misfortune. Of course the fan club will call Chainsaw Man. What's less obvious...

Will Denji listen to their cries for help?

[genshinluvr]

Burning Desire 2 [Scaramouche's Route]

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Scaramouche x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After inhaling a large amount of aphrodisiac, you’re now struggling to hold yourself together. You're burning with desire and desperate to extinguish the fiery pit in your stomach. Still, you're hesitant about having one of your boyfriends help you with your problem. Who knew that the first person to “help” you with your problem would only make it worse for you by teasing you and calling you names.

Note: Before you read Scaramouche's route, I want to clarify that because Burning Desire is all pure smut (aside from the first part before the smut routes), the routes/chapters will be shorter than Crave. Crave has its own plot, whereas Burning Desire is a smut-fic where readers make the decision on who's route is going to be next after the first route. Crave will be way longer because every character/group will have their own plot compared to Burning Desire. This applies to all characters, not specific characters. I highly recommend reading the first part of Burning Desire (linked down below) first before reading the routes, but that is up to you! As previously stated in my previous smut-fics, I tried to keep the story as gender-neutral as possible. All of my smuts do lean towards female!reader/AFAB!reader with gender-neutral pronouns. As usual, minors DO NOT INTERACT! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut [as per usual], aphrodisiac, spitting, hair pulling, somewhat brat taming, spanking, doggy style, mating press, failed attempts of a dom!reader in one part, reader calls Scaramouche a good boy, oral (reader receiving), fingering, biting

Word Count: 5.5k

Burning Desire "chapters"/routes: [1], [2], [3], [4]

The door flies open, and Scaramouche stands at the doorway, smirking at you. You feel your heart drop in your chest. It’s not like you’re unhappy to see him. You know Scaramouche is going to enjoy teasing you until you break.

“Aw, look at you! So desperate and needy for someone to touch you,” You hear a familiar voice coo mockingly.

The throbbing between your legs continues to rage while you huff and cross your arms over your chest. Scaramouche steps into your room and slams the door behind him and in everyone’s faces.

You and Scaramouche hear Itto ask, “Did he just slam the door in our faces?”

“What? You want to watch Scaramouche and [Y/N] fuck each other’s brains out? Cause I don’t!” Childe huffs from behind the door.

“Let’s give them some privacy. It would be weird for us to hang around while Scaramouche tries to help [Y/N].... relieve their frustrations,” Tighnari clears his throat.

The twenty-three men grumble at Tighnari’s suggestion. Their footsteps slowly fade away, leaving you and Scaramouche in complete silence. You and Scaramouche stare at each other in silence, tension hanging above the two of you like the stars and moon. Scaramouche chuckles, walking toward you while you watch him warily. Scaramouche stops in front of you, squats to your eye level, tilts his head to the side and tips his hat back. 

A smirk appears on Scaramouche’s face. You look like a mess. Your pupils are blown wide, your skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your chest is heaving with every heavy breath you take. You look so pathetic, so helpless, and so so cute. Scaramouche nearly burst out laughing just at the mere sight of your desperation. Scaramouche cups your face in his hands and squish your cheeks together, making your lips pucker.

Scaramouche leans in close to your face. “Do you know how pathetic you look right now?” Scaramouche whispers, his breath fanning your face.

You wince and pull your head out from his grasp, mentally cursing to yourself. If the damn aphrodisiac wasn’t affecting you this way, you would’ve wiped that shit-eating grin off his face. Scaramouche lets out a breathy chuckle and pulls away from you. Scaramouche takes his hat off and puts them on the edge of your bed, running his hands through his indigo hair while eyeing you with his indigo eyes.

You gulp and close your eyes, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Scaramouche. I can wait for the aphrodisiac to wear off,” you whisper. 

Scaramouche lets out a loud “ha!” before standing up and brushing his clothes. “Don’t lie to me, now. I can see the burning desire and desperation in your eyes. Either let me help you with your problem or continue to suffer. Your choice!”

The aching between your legs continues to grow. Your body feels like it’s engulfed in flames. You’re so hot that you’re starting to drip in sweat. You push yourself off the ground, standing up. Your legs are shaking, and you barely have the energy to stand. So, you collapse on your bed beside Scaramouche’s hat, staring at the Inazuman man, your eyes going out of focus for a mere second.

Scaramouche watches the bead of sweat drip from your chin, landing on your white t-shirt. Your white is practically see-through because of the amount of sweat your shirt is soaking up. He can see the outlines of your breasts through the material and the areolas of your nipples behind the fabric your nipples are poking from behind.

You squeeze your thighs together tightly, hoping it’ll suppress the throbbing between your legs. Scaramouche huffs with amusement and walks toward the bed. Scaramouche stands at the end of your bed, staring you down. You wipe the sweat off your face with the back of your hand, looking away from Scaramouche.

“Scaramouche, please….” you whisper, body shaking with intense need. 

Scaramouche leans forward, cupping his ear with his hand. “What was that? I didn’t hear you. Can you say that louder?” Scaramouche asks, laughing to himself. 

You scowl at Scaramouche and give him the middle finger. Scaramouche snorts, leaning against your bed. Even when you desperately want to get rid of the burning need between your legs, you can’t stand Scaramouche and his shit-eating grin. As much as you want to shut him up, you’ve been immobilized by the aphrodisiac. 

Scaramouche shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not nice of you to treat me that way. Especially when I volunteered to help you with your,” Scaramouche trails off, grabs hold of your ankles, and pulls you toward the edge of the bed, “problem.”

Scaramouche smirks and cages you against your bed with his arms beside your head with one knee on your bed. Scaramouche leans down until his forehead is pressing against yours. The two of you look into each other’s eyes, not saying a word. Your heart is drumming against your chest. You involuntarily breathe in Scaramouche’s scent, feeling yourself melt against your bed. Scaramouche smirks, cups your jaws in his hands, tilt your head back, and press his lips against the side of your neck.

You gasp, feeling Scaramouche’s soft, warm lips pressing up against the base of your neck. Scaramouche tangles his hands in your hair, peppering kisses up and down your neck, occasionally sucking on your neck. You close your eyes, bite your quivering lips, clutching onto his shirt tightly. You can feel Scaramouche smirk against your neck. He kneels on the bed above you, continuing to do what he’s doing.

He smells so intoxicating that your mouth nearly waters when you breathe in his shampoo. Every touch and squeeze light flames upon your heated skin. Scaramouche trails his lips down further on your neck, reaching your collarbone. You suck in a deep breath and choke on your breath when Scaramouche bites on your collarbone.

“Ah! Scaramouche!” You whimper, your chest pressing up against his when you arch your back.

Scaramouche unlatches his lips from your collarbone and smirks down at you. You stare up at Scaramoche in a lustful daze, your mouth slightly agape, your tongue peeking out from your lips. Scaramouche sticks his thumb into your mouth, catching you by surprise. You look at Scaramouche with wide eyes, unsure of what to do other than to suck on his thumb. 

“You filthy little thing,” Scaramouche teases, leaning down to kiss and suck your jaws. “Such a needy, filthy slut,” Scaramouche laughs, pressing his thumb on your tongue.

You narrow your eyes in response and lightly bite down on his thumb. Scaramouche pauses and pulls away from you, staring at you blankly before taking his thumb out from your mouth. You and Scaramouche stare at one another. The corner of your lips quirks up while he narrows his eyes at you and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“You know….” Scaramouche trails off, his hands sliding up to your hair. “For someone as needy as you, you sure act like a brat.” Scaramouche hisses, tangling his fingers beneath your hair and tugging on it, pulling your head back with a forceful tug.

You gasp at the feeling. “Oh, fuck,” you moan.

Scaramouche leans into your ear. “If you continue to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like one, do you understand?” Scaramouche whispers, biting on your earlobe. 

You look at Scaramouche from the corner of your eyes, batting your eyelashes. “Who? Me? Acting like a brat? I would never!” You say, feigning innocence. 

Scaramouche narrows his eyes and pushes you back against your bed. You let out an ‘oof’ when you land on your back. You prop yourself up with your arms and watch Scaramouche hop off your bed and kneel in front of where you’re lying. Scaramouche eyes your sleep shorts, shaking his head and “tsking” softly as if he’s scolding you. 

Scaramouche drags out a sigh, his indigo eyes flickering up to you. “Soaked through your pants, I see. That’s a shame,” Scaramouche mocks. 

He grabs the band of your sleep shorts before ghosting his fingers over the prominent wet patch on your shorts. You jolt when you feel Scaramouche press the pad of his thumb against the damp patch. You whimper and attempt to grab his hand, only for him to slap your hand away.

Scaramouche grabs your shorts bands and tugs at them until your shorts are off, leaving you only in your panties. 

You shiver and attempt to cover yourself. Scaramouche grabs both your wrists and pins them to your stomach with one hand while lightly rubbing the damp patch on your panties. Scaramouche licks his lips and touches the small bump beneath your panties. You jolt again when you feel Scaramouche touch your engorged bundle of nerves through the fabrics of your panties. 

“And you said you didn’t want my help,” Scaramouche snorts, shaking his head.

You huff and look away, face turning hot. “I didn’t. I would rather wait for the aphrodisiac to wear off,” you mutter.

Scaramouche looks at you with amusement. “Oh? Is that so?” Scaramouche asks, slipping his fingers underneath the band of your panties. “It’s okay to feel this way. It’s not like you can control it anyway.” 

Your face continues to feel hot. Scaramouche loops his index fingers around the side of your underwear and pulls your panties off. You nearly hiss when cool air hits your damp core and try to close your legs, but Scaramouche slaps the inside of your thigh. You yelp and rub the tender area with the tip of your fingers. 

Scaramouche tosses your panties behind him and releases your hands from his grip. Scaramouche grabs your hips and pulls you to the edge of the bed until your ass is hanging off the edge of the bed.

“You said you didn’t want me to help you, but you’re so wet you’re practically dripping,” Scaramouche says, swiping his fingers up through the wetness between your folds.

You grumble and cover your face with your hands. “Stop trying to humiliate me!” You grumble.

He rolls his eyes and licks his fingers. “I’m not. Quit whining.” Scaramouche snorts.

You open your mouth to retort but are cut short when Scaramouche latches his mouth onto your dripping wet heat. Your back arches and your legs are spread apart on the bed, giving Scaramouche full access to your dripping core.

Scaramouche has an iron grip on your thighs, leaving finger marks on your thighs. Scaramouche swirls and swipes his tongue on your core while you writhe beneath him. The sound of slurping and your whimpers fill the once-silent air in your room. Scaramouche throws one of your legs over his shoulders, bringing you closer to him. Scaramouche’s teeth scrape against your swollen bundle of nerves, making you gasp and tense in his grasp. 

You reach forward and grab Scaramouche’s indigo hair, tangling your fingers in his soft hair. You grit your teeth, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head the more Scaramouche laps at your throbbing core.

You let out a whine. “Scaramouche! Just fuck me already, dammit!” You pull at his hair.

Scaramouche scowls at you and pulls away, licking your juices off his face before slapping your throbbing core. You hiss and release his hair, feeling your entrance clench over nothing. Scaramouche stands and begins to slowly strip his clothes off in front of you. 

You watch the fabrics and small accessories pool around him on the ground. Scaramouche is left in his boxers before he steps toward the bed. Scaramouche smirks when you give him a questioning look. Scaramouche flips you over on your stomach and forces you to get on all fours.

SMACK!

“Ow! Scaramouche! What was that for!?” You shriek, placing your hand over the area where Scaramouche slapped you.

Scaramouche doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he continues to spank your ass while you’re writing and trying to get away. After what felt like hours, Scaramouche finally stops slapping your ass. You lay on the bed, whimpering and clutching your possibly swollen asscheeks. You’re sure Scaramouche left hand prints on your ass. Dear archons, your ass is stinging so much from the number of slaps Scaramouche had given your butt cheeks. Damn him and that shit-eating grin on his face. 

Scaramouche flips you over on your back, caging you in his arms. Scaramouche crashes his lips against yours. Your and his teeth clash against each other while he tangles his fingers in your hair, pushing your legs apart. You subconsciously spread your legs, intertwining your fingers in his hair. Scaramouche takes the opportunity to slip two fingers into your wet heat, catching you off guard.

You let out a choked gasp and broke the kiss between you and Scaramouche. You grip both of Scaramouche’s biceps, digging your nails into his arms. You groan and tense up the deeper Scaramouche’s fingers go into you. Scaramouche continues to insert his index and middle finger inside of you until he’s knuckles deep inside your entrance.

Your eyebrows are furrowing, your mouth agape in an ‘o,’ eyes bleary with lust. Scaramouche smirks and slowly pulls his fingers out before slamming them back inside. Your entire body tenses up, and a mix of moans and whines escapes from you. Scaramouche uses his thumb and digs the nail into your bundle of nerves. You grit your teeth, gripping your bedsheets with tight fists. 

“Why can’t you just fuck me already instead of tormenting me?” You ask through clenched jaws. 

Scaramouche feigns innocence. “Because it’s fun seeing you writhe beneath me, beg me to fuck your brains out, and cry out my name until you become frustrated,” Scaramouche replies.

“Scaramouche, I swear, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to find someone else to do it instead,” you hiss, attempting to sit up.

Scaramouche clicks his tongue and pulls his fingers out from your core, making you tense up momentarily. Scaramouche shoves his index and middle finger into your mouth, nearly choking you. 

“Suck.”

You narrow your eyes at Scaramouche. As much as you want to bite his fingers out of spite, you just want him to fuck you already until the firey pit in your stomach is gone. So, you complied and began to suck and lick his pointer and middle fingers, tasting your juices that coated his fingers. 

Scaramouche shoves his fingers farther back, the tips of his fingers touching the back of your throat. You gag around his fingers, your eyes watered, and you glare at him through the tears in your eyes. Scaramouche snickers and pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

“What? Don’t give me that look! You should be grateful that I’m going to be fucking you until you can barely walk,” Scaramouche says nonchalantly.

You lie on your back and close your eyes, wiping the stray tears that made their way down your cheeks. You hear clothes rustling and falling to the ground. Damn him, and damn him for being the first one to volunteer to help you with your problem. Why couldn’t it be Heizou instead? At least Heizou wouldn’t be teasing the hell out of you until you break. Actually… Heizou would probably do the same, but he would be more gentle, unlike the indigo-haired male standing before you.

You’re pulled out from your thoughts when Scaramouche is now looming over you, one arm propping himself up beside your head. You watch Scaramouche grab his erect cock with the other hand. Scaramouche pumps his cock a few times with his fist and taps the mushroom tip of his cock against your folds after pushing your legs apart with his knees. You bite your lips with anticipation, letting out a pathetic whimper when Scaramouche rubs his cock up and down your spread legs.

You grit your teeth and dig your nails into the palm of your hands, trying your best to be patient when you know your patience is about to snap at any moment. Scaramouche lines the bulbous tip of his cock in front of your entrance and looks at you through his lashes. Scaramouche teases your entrance by rubbing his dick up and down your folds, lightly brushing against your bundle of nerves.

You whine and lightly pound your fist against his chest. “Scaramouche! Please, just fuck me already! I can’t wait any longer!” You whine.

Scaramouche pushes himself off of you and grips your neck with one hand while the other remains on his hardened cock. Without warning, Scaramouche shoves his cock inside of your awaiting, dripping heat. You gasp and feel your entrance tighten around Scaramouche’s cock. You wrap your legs around Scaramouche’s waist, thighs clenching while he slams the rest of his cock inside of your throbbing entrance. 

Scaramouche clenches his jaws. “Relax, will you?” Scaramouche grunts, grabbing the plush of your thighs and shoving them apart before he buries his dick to the hilt.

You whimper and wrap your arms over his shoulders, clawing at his back. “I’m trying! It hurts!” You whine while digging your nails deep into his back.

“It’ll only hurt more if you continue to tense up like this!” Scaramouche growls, pressing his hips against yours and staying still. 

You pant, tilting your head back against your pillow, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your thighs are beginning to feel sore, but it doesn’t hurt as much as your entrance does. You feel so full, so, so full. Scaramouche blindly reaches for your legs and pushes them up against your chest, folding you in half.

You unintentionally let out a loud moan, feeling the tip of his cock touching the deepest part of your insides. Scaramouche lays on top of you, his arms caging you between his body and your bed. Scaramouche grabs your jaws and forces you to open your mouth. You look at Scaramouche through the lustful haze, your mouth wide open. Scaramouche spits into your mouth, catching you off guard.

He closes your mouth and thrusts forward. “Swallow,” Scaramouche demands.

You swallow Scaramouche’s saliva and open your mouth to show him. Scaramouche smirks and tangles his fingers in your hair before pressing his lips against yours. You slide your left hand up his back and to the back of his head, gripping his indigo hair while your right-hand reaches down and grabs him by the ass.

Scaramouche jolts, making his cock prod your cervix. Scaramouche breaks the kiss and looks down at you with an eyebrow raised. You bite your lips and stare at him, not saying anything. You pull him down and kiss his swollen lips again, lightly biting his lips and rolling your hips against his, sending pleasurable jolts down your and Scaramouche’s spine. 

Scaramouche slowly pulls his cock out from your heat, leaving only the tip of his dick inside you. Archons, you’re so wet. Scaramouche watches your juices slowly trail down your ass cheeks, his cock’s wet from your juice. Without warning, Scaramouche slams his cock back inside your hole. Your velvety walls clenched around his cock while you cried out with pleasure. 

You didn’t know why you expected Scaramouche to start thrusting into you slowly and letting you adjust to his size. Scaramouche hammers his cock in and out of you, making sure to hit your cervix over and over with every thrust.

“Slow down!” You squeal, your legs flailing over your head while Scaramouche continues to ram his cock in and out of you. 

Scaramouche ignores your pleas, continuously ramming his dick into your wet heat. The sound of skin slapping, squelching, moans, whimpers, and growls fills your bedroom. You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment and bury your face into Scaramouche’s chest. Scaramouche suddenly pulls his cock out from your entrance. You whine in protest, blindly reaching for his cock. Scaramouche slaps your hand away, flips you over on your stomach, and puts you on all fours. He makes you arch your back and press your head against your pillow before landing a sharp slap on your ass cheeks.

Your squeal was cut short when Scaramouche lined his cock up against your dripping entrance. Scaramouche slams his dick into you, making you choke on your squeals. Scaramouche presses his chest against your back, reaching forward and squeezing your chest with both hands while pressing his hips firmly against your ass. You grab a fistful of your bedsheets while wrapping your right arm around your pillow, biting down on your pillow to muffle your moans.

“Taking my cock so well, like the slut you are,” Scaramouche chuckles, biting down on your shoulder.

You grunt when Scaramouche grinds his hips against yours, coating his pubic hair with your juices. You reach for Scaramouche’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his while your other hand continues to hold the bedsheets with a tight fist. Scaramouche chuckles, releasing your shoulder and burying his face into your neck.

Scaramouche pants against your ears, and his soft grunts and sighs fill your ears. Dear archons, you hate to admit that you love the sound of him sighing and grunting into your ears. Scaramouche latches his lips on your neck, nibbling on them while pistoning his cock in and out at a steady pace. You tilt your head back, resting your head on Scaramouche’s shoulders while he continues to ram his painfully erect cock in and out of you repeatedly. Your hands fly to Scaramouche’s hands and dig your nails into his arms. The sound of Scaramouche’s pants drowns out the sounds of your desperate moans and squeals.

Scaramouche presses his lips against your ears. “Where’s that attitude of yours, huh?” Scaramouche asks, breathing heavily into your ears. “Where.” Thrust. “Is.” Thrust. “It?” 

You scowl and shove him off you, his dick pulling out from your entrance. Scaramouche lands on his elbows and glares at you with lust clouding his vision. You get off your bed and huff, crossing your arms over your chest. You turn around and begin walking to your bedroom door without sparing Scaramouche a second glance.

Scaramouche calls out from behind you, “Where do you think you’re going?!”

You huff loudly and look over your shoulders. “Since you want to act so cocky, I’ll find someone else to satisfy me,” you said.

“Hey! Get your ass back here or else—”

“Or else what? If you want to fuck me so badly, why don’t you beg for it, hm?” You smirk.

Scaramouche growls. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be fucking your brains out and helping you with that problem of yours. You’re the one that inhaled that stupid aphrodisiac, not me!” Scaramouche glowers, getting off your bed and walking toward you.

You chuckle and shake your head, watching the indigo-haired man approach you. You have yet to cum, and yet you’re playing fire with fire. He can ditch you all you want and leave you hanging high and dry, craving for release, but you have plenty of options other than the man standing before you. Scaramouche wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to his chest. You try to act nonchalant, but feeling Scaramouche’s erect cock pressing against your stomach is making you flustered. 

Scaramouche grabs your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. You scoff softly, turn your head to the side and gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Archons, you just want him to fuck the aphrodisiac out of you, but knowing Scaramouche, he’s going to make it hell for you. And he kind of did, even though he fucked you pretty well.

“I don’t know. You’ve been so mean to me this entire time! Why should I let you continue to bury your dick inside me, hm?” You ask, grabbing his red cock and gently squeezing and pumping them firmly. 

Scaramouche clenches his jaws, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head when you squeeze and rub the bulbous tip of his cock. Scaramouche rests his head on your shoulder, burying his face into your neck, breathing in your scent.

“Please,” Scaramouche says through clenched teeth. “Please let me fuck you.”

You hum to yourself, taking your hand off his throbbing member. “Alright, I’ll let you fuck me, only because you said please like a good boy,” you tease, squeezing his cheeks.

Scaramouche huffs and grabs your wrist and pulls you back to your bed. Scaramouche lays on your bed, yanking you on top of him. You straddle his hips and grab his red dick, lining it up to your entrance.

Scaramouche squeezes your hips with anticipation; his cheeks are almost as red as the tip of his cock. You giggle to yourself and slowly sink down on his aching cock. Your jaws drop, letting out a shaky sigh as you continue to sink further down on Scaramouche’s dick. Once Scaramouche is fully sheathed into your entrance, you grab your bed frame and start bouncing on his cock and grinding your swollen bundle of nerves against Scaramouche’s pubic bone. Scaramouche latches his mouth on one of your nipples and begins to suck, lick and lightly bite them while you’re on top of him, riding his cock like a desperate cock hungry whore that you are.

You bite down on your lips to keep your moans to a minimum. The sound of your hole squelching each time your thighs meet Scaramouche’s thighs is all you can hear other than your breathy moans and Scaramouche sucking on your nipples. Scaramouche places both his hands on the globes of your ass, squeezing your butt cheeks, occasionally slapping them while forcing you up and down on his painfully hard cock.

Scaramouche releases your nipple. “You’re a filthy slut, you know that, right?” Scaramouche pants. “Look at you, riding my cock like a cock hungry whore.” He laughs.

You reach for Scaramouche’s hair, grab it and tilt his head back. “You’re a shithead, you know that, right?” You ask, slamming your hips down on his cock. 

You hold back a moan when Scaramouche’s mushroom tip kisses your cervix. Scaramouche smirks at you, his lips quivering from the pleasure. Scaramouche opens his mouth to retort, but you press your lips against his lips to shut him up. Scaramouche releases one ass cheek and reaches in front to pinch and squeeze your throbbing bundle of nerves. You bite down on Scaramouche’s lips, nearly collapsing on him.

He takes that as an opportunity to flip you over on your back, hammering his cock into you in a frenzy. You grunt and wrap your legs tightly around his slim waist, dragging your nails down his back. Scaramouche presses his hips hard against yours that your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when the bulbous tip of his cock slams against your cervix. You roll your hips and ground your hips against his pubic bone. 

Your back arches, your head falls back on your bed, and you let out a string of moans. You feel a familiar tightness in your lower abdomen as he continues to force his cock in and out of your wet heat. You look down to where you and Scaramouche are connected, only to see your stomach bulging every time Scaramouche slams his cock back into your sopping wet heat. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth while Scaramouche continues to shove his cock into you.

Scaramouche snorts. “You look stupid, you know that?” Scaramouche snickers, pressing his hips against yours.

“I’m about to cum,” You whisper breathlessly.

Scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you. “Then cum for me, you filthy slut. Cum all over my cock and scream my name so the others can know who’s the one that’s fucking your brains out,” Scaramouche demands, pulling your hair back and pistoning his cock into you.

While Scaramouche is slamming his hips against yours, you writhe beneath him. Your jaws are agape, letting out silent screams. Scaramouche grabs a handful of your chest and kneads at them, pinching your nipples while squeezing your breast. You close your eyes tightly, feeling the forming knot in your lower abdomen begin to feel even tighter. 

You hiss when Scaramouche grazes your nipple with his nail. You grab his wrist and dig your nails into his wrist, fueling Scaramouche’s thrusts. While pounding into your sopping-wet entrance, Scaramouche feels his impending orgasm. Scaramouche leans over you, grabs the edge of the mattress, and plunges his cock into you in a frenzy, chasing his release.

It happened so fast. You didn’t think the tight knot in your lower abdomen would snap so quickly the more the mushroom tip of Scaramouche’s cock kissed your cervix. The feeling of his cock sliding and rubbing against the walls of your entrance made you quiver and your legs tremble. Scaramouche bites down on your shoulders and shoots thick ropes of cum deep inside your quivering hole when he feels you clamping down hard on his cock and cumming around him.

You go limp on your bed and grunt softly when Scaramouche collapses on top of you. Scaramouche lets out a breathy chuckle before rolling off to the side while keeping his cock inside you, plugging his and your cum inside your sullied hole. You don’t know how long you and Scaramouche had gone at it, but you can still feel the fiery pit raging in the pit of your stomach. You and Scaramouche groan when he pulls his softened cock from inside you. You feel his and your cum oozing out from your hole. 

Scaramouche turns his head to look at you. “You’re quite needy, did you know that?” Scaramouche asks.

You scoff and roll your eyes at him, slapping his chest weakly. “Oh, please. As if you weren’t as needy as I was,” you grumble.

Scaramouche gulps a mouthful of air and props himself up. “Is it still in your system?” Scaramouche asks, collapsing back on your bed and closing his eyes.

You stare at him, watching his bare chest rise up and down from the rigorous activity. You pursed your lips, unsure of how to answer. If you were to tell him that the feeling of need and desire is still present, would he continue to assist you on your issue, or would he switch out with one of the other twenty-four men that are left?

You gnaw on your bottom lip and slowly nod. “Yeah, it’s still in my system, unfortunately. I can still feel it, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was before you, well, railed me into oblivion,” you reply.

Scaramouche sighs in defeat and closes his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “Dammit. Not only that, but you inhaled large amounts of that aphrodisiac as well. It’ll be in your system for who knows how long.”

“Unfortunately,” you mutter. 

Scaramouche lies beside you and wraps his arms around your bare torso, resting his chin on top of your head and closing his eyes. You reach to grab the blanket at the edge of your bed when you and Scaramouche hear a knock at your door.

“Are you two finished?” Albedo asks behind the closed door.

You huff and pull the blanket over your and Scaramouche’s naked bodies. “Yeah, we’re finished,” you answer.

“Is the aphrodisiac out of your system now? How are you feeling?” Baizhu’s voice is muffled from behind the door.

You shake your head, knowing the others can’t see it. You’re not sure how long aphrodisiacs remain in the human body once it’s ingested or inhaled. All you know is that you’re still horny, probably not as much as you were before Scaramouche railed you, but you’re still horny, and you can feel it. The fiery pit in your lower stomach has yet to be extinguished, and you’re not sure how many rounds you’ll have to go through for the aphrodisiac to wear off. 

You sigh shakily and reply, “It’s still in my system. I don’t know how much longer it’ll remain in my system for, Baizhu. It’s not nearly as bad as it was, and I’m still coherent, but….” you trailed off, closing your eyes.

“But….” Xiao asks.

You can almost hear him raise his eyebrows. Knowing Xiao, he’s standing in front of your closed bedroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for you to reply. You wouldn’t be surprised if the others were also standing in front of your door.

You look at Scaramouche, who sits up and rubs his eyes. “Might as well send in the next person. But let me remind you that none of you will fuck [Y/N] nearly as good as I did,” Scaramouche says proudly. 

Scarmaouhce puts on his clothes while you debate whether you should put your clothes on and clean yourself up or let the next person have their way with you as you are now. You get up from your bed and walk to your bathroom to quickly clean up and use the bathroom. After a few minutes of cleaning yourself up and using the bathroom, you step out of your bathroom. Scaramouche gives you a quick hug and kisses on your forehead before exiting your bedroom. Before the door fully closed behind Scaramouche, a hand grabbed at the wooden door to prevent it from closing. 

Note: I have no idea how to feel about this Scaramouche smut I wrote... let me know what you think because I'm always feeling iffy about every smuts I write and post on Tumblr and AO3. Ready for the second phase for the next route? Since Scaramouche's route has been written and posted, he is no longer part of the future options for Burning Desire. I wonder who's going to be the next route 🤔 Vote for the second route/third "chapter" [HERE]! As for taglist, Burning Desire will have its own taglist! Therefore, if you want to be tagged for the Burning Desire smut fics, click [HERE] for the taglist form! Please make sure to read the instructions carefully, or else I won't be able to tag you in future Burning Desire fics 🥹 Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for Burning Desire: [None currently, will add people once people start submitting their forms ^^]

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[sauntervaguelydown]

Love & Pratchett

The thing about Terry Pratchett is that he wrote about people falling in love plenty, but he never wrote about what I'd call typical romance. When love is sincere and profound it is also very... understated. Practical. Sybil & Vimes--his most famous couple--are like this. The demonstration of devotion is in small things, like wearing the horrible uncomfortable socks your wife made for you because she made them for you. There's a sense of the inevitable about them coming together.

In many cases you wouldn't know it was romance except that the recognizable formula of "boy and girl" picks it out. Look at Newt & Anathema in Good Omens--that's classic Pratchett. They barely exchange a romantic word and in fact it's almost out of Anathema's hands whether she's going to hook up with this absolute soyboy (affectionate). She's not really that nice to him. I always get the impression that the core of their connection is that they're bonded by this experience that no one else can understand. Bonding through shared experience (and even trauma) is a common theme in these subplots.

There's definitely a few showier romance plots, but they're always very tongue in cheek--for example, the literal Romeo & Juliet in Unseen Academicals where Juliet is a very good hearted but basically stupid girl and the POV character is her exasperated mom-friend. There's a lot of gags in the early Discworld novels about male and female characters who Have to fall in love because that's the way narrative works. It's not that they're doomed to be unhappy or even fake or anything, they're just not that deep. Mostly, monogamy is a mundane affair and not really the business of onlookers anyway. Admittedly, the female pov characters have a tendency to wish that things could be a bit more... dramatic. Look at Angua, she's always vaguely frustrated that her boyfriend doesn't react to their relationship with a bit more angst, but ultimately she's practical too. She just wants her partner to be a bit less practical for a moment.

I just reread Nation. Nation isn't a Discworld novel, but I think in a lot of ways it's the most condensed Terry Pratchett you'll ever find in one place. Two characters who are both clever to start with, and wise by the ending, have fallen in love with each other. It's never directly stated. No one confesses to anyone. They get teased about it a little by adults around them. They rescue each other, perform feats of unasked-for heroism on each other's behalf. And at the end, although they want to stay together, they choose their responsibility to their families--and to the future of the world--over staying together. There's one kiss on the cheek as a farewell. But you know that they're still thinking of each other, because at the end of the timeline despite living worlds apart their entire lives, they ask to be buried together.

This is, in my estimation, is the most romantic thing in the Terry Pratchett catalogue. If I can be forgiven for pretending to know the mind of a stranger, I think this is what he found the most romantic. It really is just a profound friendship, between two people who maybe don't always understand each other but always respect each other. Sex really is just a bonus thing, it's nice and certain characters (Angua, Carrot come to mind) pretty clearly have a good time with it, but it's sort of taken for granted. Even kissing isn't all that important. You can't really tell who's in love with who in a Pratchett novel just by looking for physical demonstrations of affection.

Anyway, over the years of Good Omens discourse, this has been the main thing that informs my reading of Aziraphale & Crowley. I'm not widely read in Gaiman material, so I can't speak to that, but from a Pratchett-canon lens, Aziraphale and Crowley fit the vibes of a romantic relationship pretty well. The shared experience, the sense that only they really can understand each other because no one else has seen what they've seen. The heroic gesture of Crowley in the burning shop--the respect that they have for each other, despite the occasional bitching--the "ah. so it's like that." observation of people around them. And most of all, the way they come back together at the end of the novel in a poetic but understated moment, because coming back together of your own free will and going forward together is possibly the most romantic thing that a couple can do in a Pratchett novel.

[saturdaycitrus]

Ven and Vel getting jobs xD

Dancer AU!! (technically Veneer isn't a dancer in this but my explanation will be on the bottom! TLDR it was just cool so yippee [there's lore!!!!!!!])

Also! sorry@imadumdumjewel for the late reply!

If you guys req anything, I'll get to it, just may be a tad late...

Anywho! I ran a lil poll on Twitter to decide on the types of jobs they would have so here we go:

So I actually forgot to put dancer Vel/artist Ven because I kinda thought Ven would kinda fit the thing but after I finished this art I was pretty happy I didn't put it on there lol.

I honestly think that the other job options seemed pretty interesting, but no one really suggested any other jobs, and almost everyone was enthralled with the idea of dancer Ven & Vel.

For Veneer:

At first, my friend and I were planning this, but nothing really felt right to us. I did suggest Ballerino, but it didn't feel like something Veneer would do without Velvet, because they kinda come in pairs. Gymnast was also a suggestion, but after a couple minutes, it was swiftly discarded because I didn't want to draw Veneer's toes.

Anywho, while searching for other options, ice skating appeared, and my friend suggested an interesting idea as to

Lore time:

When Veneer was young, his parents pushed him towards traditionally male hobbies, such as sports and more sports. When his dad saw a flyer for an ice hockey team, he signed him up immediately. However, some mischievous kid had taped a different number to the hockey flyer, so Veneer's father ended up signing him up for figure skating instead.

At first, Veneer thought he was out of place, after all, the ratio of boys to girls was significant and he found himself to be the only one in that class. He didn't enjoy it much and regretted that he didn't join Velvet in her breakdancing course. However, as he unwillingly went to classes, he slowly started gaining a love for the sport and noticed how beautiful it was.

That led him to go down into professional figure skating and join competitions, eventually leading him to go down in history. For Velvet

My friend suggested swapping traditionally male and female dance styles, which led to the eventual conclusion: breakdancing. Velvet is a strong-willed character who would definitely try to get her way (as shown in the trailer of the movie) and take the classes that she liked.

Lore time:

When Veneer got signed up to do ice hockey, Velvet felt like she didn't have to deal with her little brother all day, and felt that she had a lot of time to herself. At first, she found a lot of things to do every day, running to places, going to parties, and just generally having fun.

At this point, Veneer was still unwilling to go to figure skating classes, (turns out Velvet was the mischievous kid who changed the number on the ice hockey flyer into a figure skating course phone number) but since his father had already paid for a year, he had to go anyways. Velvet would purposely use this to upset Veneer when she didn't get what she wanted, but then would accidentally make Veneer cry, resulting in her getting lectured by her parents, and Velvet holding back tears as she apologized to Veneer (she was totes in the fault here tho).

She realized that the more free time she had, the more her parents would lecture her. She decided right then and there that she would sign up for a class. She spent days, scrolling her phone and watching videos of different skills to decide what she wanted to do. However, nothing caught her eye.

Then, one day, she saw a kid do a flip, and slip and fall miserably. First, she took a video and laughed, and then thought to herself, "Hey, I could do that waaaayyyyy better. That kid's a failure!" And so she threw herself into learning it, but unsurprisingly, she fell flat on her face.

She was unhappy with this result, so she immediately went to her parents and asked them to sign her up for a breakdancing course. However, she had a tendency to give up when things got annoying/hard, so her parents turned her away each time. However, both the nonstop pestering and the fact that she no longer was bullying Veneer (because she was too busy following her parents around and throwing tantrums), they finally gave in.

From then on, she started breakdancing classes, and Veneer was upset because now his sister got to do something she liked, but Veneer was stuck in ice skating hell. He was very unhappy for some time, but then decided, "If she's gonna be happy, I gotta be happier. I gotta upstage her". So, he took to ice skating and started focusing all his efforts on it.

Velvet, seeing her twin brother become increasingly devoted to learning the trade she had forced him into while she had just started to get bored of breakdancing, felt a spark of competition and decided to practice harder.

Her parents were really impressed. Periodt. Now they are famous both nationally (Veneer) and on the streets (Velvet, for breakdancing, not giving up). YIPPEE

THE END

[luna-blood]

I was debating on YouTube about Sasuke but YouTube deletes comments, especially those that have a link. It was also difficult for me to search for the publications. So I gave myself the task of collecting posts from all Sasuke fans and neutral critics of the work 'Naruto' that talk about Sasuke and his relationship with the other Naruto characters. I have also included my contributions, such as questions to other users and post responses. I hope this post helps you when you need support when you are debating in favor of Sasuke. Without anything else to say, I leave you the links:

Positive qualities of Sasuke.

Sasuke's chakra is extremely powerful, voluminous, and denser than Senjutsu chakra!

It is false that Bee could have killed Sasuke any time he wanted.

¡Sasuke has been shown to nullify mortal wounds with Raiton!

Sasuke is literally the first person to survive the Raikage's Liger Bomb.

All Sasuke received from Raikage was a small lip bleed, while Raikage lost an arm and another Kage, Gaara, had to intervene to save his leg and his life.

Orochimaru's "physical condition" has nothing to do with his ritual and Sasuke's victory.

Analysis Sasuke vs Deidara.

Sasuke killed Danzo; he did not commit suicide.

Are Itachi and Kakashi really prodigies at the level their fans believe them to be? No.

The only reason Naruto managed to hurt Kaguya was because Sasuke forced her to change dimensions more than once and she herself had changed dimensions about four times in total.

Because Sasuke haters say that Haku is simply more tragic and a better person than Sasuke; and Batman too!

What is it about Sasuke that provokes people so much, compared to all the other fictional characters (in and out of Naruto) who have done bad things? Gaara was killing people for fun in part 1, but no one ever complains about him not being punished. Zuko from ATLA burned down a village of civilians, sent a hitman after Team Avatar, and was just lucky that no civilian was injured/killed, but everyone adores him. But Sasuke is unredeemable for threatening to destroy the village?

A back and forth on why Sasuke is a much better realized character, with thematic and narrative depth, compared to Kurapika and Zuko.

Sasuke is the imperfect victim unlike the perfect victims of ATLA and Full Metal Alchemist.

Sasuke's character is too good for the Naruto universe.

Are people upset that Sasuke was going to let the Shinobi Alliance perish?

Sasuke as a feminist icon.

Sakura is a female incel.

Sakura is a narcissistic.

Sakura inserted herself because she wanted validations from people who were out of her league, that's why. She is perfect for self-insert.

The mere idea of turning over an entire manga in your head in which Sasuke hides a raging boner (at age 12) for Sakura is... repulsive. Don't you have anything better to do?

Sasuke never kissed Sakura.

The blow on the forehead is not the maximum expression of love.

Naruto Gaiden is a fucking masterpiece! It proves that Sasuke doesn't love Sakura.

Sasuke retsuden is not canon.

Sasuke retsuden is not canon, Jun Esaka herself said it and if you are a fan of Sasuke it is normal that you hate Sakura because Sasuke is unhappy with her.

Sasuke still considers Sakura inferior.

Sasuke didn't push Sakura away because of the curse of hate.

Sasuke rejected Sakura, Ino and Karin, he didn't push them away because he was afraid.

Sasuke is not in love with Karin and did not have sex in part 2 with Karin.

Why Karin's fans say she had sex with Sasuke in part 2.

What does Kakashi know about the genocide and the physical and mental torture that would lead the child victim to a fatal coma, at the hands of a family member?

Naruto is a narcissistic.

Why Naruto is the worst character.

How can anyone read the two chapter panels showing two very different worlds the characters occupy and be surprised by the way it ended? They were not going to reconcile since the world where Sasuke exists is the antithesis of the world where his former team resides.

Lee was never "good” at Taijutsu, let alone being a genius at it. The series' main theme, revolves around bonds. When the manga began, Naruto let loose Kurama (unintentionally) against Haku, breaking all Ice Mirrors that ... no Jutsu could break; and that, happened way back in the Waves Arc. How does that associate "hard-work" with Naruto's character, upon whom many poor souls project their misfortunes to feel vindicated, when two geniuses (Sasuke and Kakashi) in the near-vicinity failed? Naruto powered through this via nothing but brute force; and that isn't a precursor to hard-work. That's the exact opposite. With the beginning of the next Arc, the "if we work hard, we could beat all odds, too" trope lovers got their kicks from Sasuke's humiliation at Lee's hands (or gates?); but then they conveniently forget that Lee himself stated that what Sasuke accomplished was literally impossible for someone like him (he even emphasized on this argument). Gai even went so far as to state that even with the Sharingan's power, Sasuke should never have been able to do what he did (he literally invented his own Taijutsu maneuver from Lee's in a single day; if that's not prodigious, I don't know what is); and Gai, last I checked, is an authority on the subject of Taijutsu, not you—yes, you! Sasuke mastered Kimimaro's CS in under two hours whilst Lee survived simply because Kimimaro was dying and he literally died whilst delivering a death-blow to Gaara and Lee; so thematically, narratively, and metaphorically, Sasuke matched an adversary against whom both Gaara and Lee lost? That and Lee was outshined by Sasuke twice in a row, going so far as to undermine Lee in his own life endeavors that involved years of sweat and tears?

Shikamaru's revenge is meaningless unlike Sasuke's.

People who support Nagato but vilify Sasuke sound a lot more idiotic than they think.

In defense of Fugaku.

How does Sasuke's revolution develop?

Why didn't the narrative validate Sasuke's radical change from Konoha's Will of Fire to the Revolution?

Itachi massacred the clan out of conscience.

The difference between Kushina and Itachi is not that big.

The policies of Tobirama Senju and the Uchiha genocide.

At what point will people stop demanding Sasuke?

Tsunade was at the forefront of the Second Shinobi World War that massacred the people of Nagato, plundered their land's resources, and continued to use the land as a battlefield resulting in mass deaths, poverty, and suffering. A war that Konoha started.

Why do so many people still blame Sasuke for Sasuke's past?

Uchihas do not have mental illnesses.

Sasuke vs Readers without empathy.

Kishimoto canon vs Studio Pierrot fanservice.

The brilliant change of perspective and theme between Hebi and Taka Sasuke; and that there is no writing defect in the moment in which Sasuke stabs Karin to reach Danzō.

Tobirama never accepted the Uchiha as true allies like Hashirama did, never trusting them, something he admitted so openly that his brother had to warn him "not to continue pursuing the Uchiha." And the Uchiha weren't planning to kill innocent people, they were planning to take over the government itself.

Kishimoto is anti sasusaku and anti naruhina.

Kishimoto never wanted to write Boruto.

The real Sasuke fans.

Sasuke winking at Sakura was never happened in the manga, it was a translation error.

[violetasteracademic]

Why do you think elain is a better fit for azriel than gwyn?

Hi anon!

I've said this before, and don't mind saying it again and again million times; I ship story and theme, not characters. I'm not particularly quiet or shy about the fact that I absolutely love Gwyn and Lucien, and I've been met kindly and with respect from my mutuals who absolutely despise those characters or at best find them boring and don't care about them. So- I hope this doesn't come off as sarcastic, because I truly don't mean for it to be, but I don't think I even have the words to express how little I sit here comparing Gwyn and Elain as women and why one of them might be more "right" for Azriel than the other. I don't consider Gwyn as she pertains to Azriel, because I don't believe that she does pertain to Azriel. The story and themes I imagine for her are beyond Prythian, and it literally thrills me to think about what might be in store for her.

I am a huge Twilight of the Gods believer, and I think Gwyn and the Valkyrie are going to play a huge role in it. I actually ship Gwyn with Fenrys, in a borderline this is not a crack ship I really seriously believe it kind of way, and Fenrys is my second fave ToG man to Dorian. Whenever my bestie wants to make me cry randomly (in a good way), she'll send me blinks throughout the day. Iykyk.

And I love shipping Gwynrys (just made that up, open to work shopping for better ship names 😂) because they thematically and story wise make sense to me and excite and deeply move me.

They both are twins who had to witness the other half of their soul be murdered in front of them, then were horrifically SA'd afterwards. They both responded to that trauma with absolute silence- Fenrys remaining in his wolf form because he could not bring himself to speak, and Gwyn remaining silent for five months after returning to the library. If they ever met and discovered they share the same tragic past and they both overcame it to be strong, loyal, and beloved friends- omg. I just got chills typing this. They could stand to connect on that deep level that Feysand shares, that Rowaelin shares, that I obviously think Elriel shares. They could see that depth and pain within in each other in a way no one else could understand, then would be the first to volunteer to stand at the front lines in a war against the gods.

I process SJM's couples as being deeply and thematically connected, and I see that with Gwyn and Fenrys and truly believe side characters who haven't gotten their HEA's will do so in the new series. They had complete arcs that became very cherished by the fandom, and though their emotional and character growth in service of the main characters were complete, their story simply didn't feel quite finished.

Anywho. Now I'm turning this into a Let Me Tell You Why I Ship Gwyn and Fenrys seminar 😂 but honestly, I couldn't say that I don't think Gwyn and Az aren't right or good for each other. They could be if these were real people and we were trying to matchmake character traits. I just don't know what they would be together in the story as it stands now.

Whatever their story would be- it would have to be dripping with more sexual tension and angst and longing than Azriel and Elain have. It would have to be more powerful and more interesting than the Cauldron being wrong, going up against fate, and discovering that the Cauldron has in fact been corrupted. Their partnership would have to do more for the women of the world (as both Nesta and Feyre did in their stories with restoring female High Ladies in Prythian and warriors in Illyria) than what Az and Elain stand to do- get to the bottom of the corruption done by the Asteri, which is likely why unhappy and poorly matched mating bonds exist in Prythian, and fix it. Thus freeing not only themselves, but every woman who stood to be a pawn or an object and forced into a lifetime of misery with a man she didn't love lest she risk violence or spend the rest of her life wondering why she didn't love her mate and if she made a mistake.

I don't personally vibe with or agree with the (admittedly few, I stay out of the G/wynriel space not because I hate the idea of the ship but to protect myself from the conversation surrounding women's birthing abilities making them viable love interests) ideas I've heard about Gwyn and Az. That she will save Illyria- absolutely not. That belongs to Emerie. That she will be a sidekick in a new Nesta POV book. That sounds terrible to me. SJM has spoken on how freaky and hot Azriel's spice is going to be, and I'm supposed to just not want the woman's half of the POV because she's a side character in Nesta and Azriel's story? No thank you. No one has presented a story that I would want to read more than Azriel and Elain's, or a story that I believe makes any sense and is worth erasing all the work put into Az and Elain as far as this year 2024 in HoFaS with confirming the problems with the Cauldron.

Look, I'm still pretty new. I joined this online fandom, my first time ever doing so, this spring after HoFaS left me spiralling with thoughts and ideas of the future of SJM's books. Then I started writing fanfic. Then I started analyzing the text to comfort people who had the same experience as me- being someone who couldn't wait for Az and Elain's book and came online to a shocking, Elain hating bloodbath.

I do think that this shipwar is a very strange phenomenon born of an extreme dislike for Elain, whether people want to admit it or not. Elain and Azriel have all the same elements Feysand and Nessian had to set up their romance, but suddenly narratives that have never happened in the history of SJM have been created to explain it away. The "just lust" narrative literally does not exist in the SJM codex. It's not a thing. But it's a thing now for people who don't like Azriel and Elain together to try to erase Elain's existence and convince the world how it is completely impossible for her book to be next or for her to be with Azriel simply because they don't want those things to be true.

I do not care about whether or not ships are even canon. I could go on and on about all my favorite non canon ships, and times I thought the canon story was dead ass wrong 😂 It just so happens that when it comes to Az and Elain, I ride SO HARD for the canon text. People who ship G/wynriel will likely continue to ship them, and that is what fandom is for. I don't mind that they exist. I do wish everyone, on all sides, was kinder.

To me, the only love triangle exists between Azriel, Elain, and Lucien, which is why most of my theory or analysis posts center around them. I think Gwyn was an incredibly successful (maybe too successful) red herring. My opinion is that the bonus chapter was meant to re-touch on and shine light to her powers, and also create little question mark so it wasn't too obvious Elain and Azriel are endgame when she still hasn't formally rejected her mate since she hasn't had her book yet. Instead, it lit a wildfire for a group of people who were already primed and ready to erase Elain and replace her.

Maybe Gwyn and Azriel as characters removed from this story and put in a different one would be great together. In fact, I'm certain they would. They are great characters and I'm sure they could be written beautifully. I prefer what Az and Elain have got going on, but that's personal preference. I think Gwyn already had a complete arc, and I loved it, and now I'm crawling out of my skin with excitement for Elain's story.

I hope that sort of answers your question. I'm just not really interested in pitting Gwyn and Elain against each other for Azriel's attention, and I don't believe the books actually created or intended that.

Pleaaaase let me know if there are any fellow multiverse shippers out there 🙏 cause we are thinking too small focusing only on ACOTAR!