#like about homophobia on tv etc.

[oysters-aint-for-me]

i had a dream last night that i was watching a new episode of sunny live at the time of broadcast and there was a macdennis kiss onscreen but i waSNT LOOKING AT THE TV WHEN IT HAPPENED and then they EDITED IT OUT for all streaming/syndication and i was oh i was SO angry in the dream i couldn’t even speak

[songbirddoodles]

totally nuts completely cracked and frankly absolutely BONKERS whenever i see a fictional universe wherein, like, magic canonically exists and there’s all these different species and complex, intricate lore and worldbuilding, and somehow, some way, the one (1) gay character’s main plotline is STILL inevitably that they are gay and are suffering because of it. everything comes to a grinding halt while for them the minute they figure out they’re queer. it’s like, oh this guy can shoot fire out of his hands, yeah. there’s giant flying beasts all about and people can just go to different dimensions at will or something. but a world without homophobia? unimaginable. piss yourself now

[s-4pphics]

tag, you're it! (e.w.)

ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY 

omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah

imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it 

wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it

“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!” 

You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge. 

You were… fucked. 

You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail. 

Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?

A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess. 

You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace. 

Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside. 

The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat. 

Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!

Fuck security cameras. 

Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it. 

But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.

Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time. 

You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now. 

Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it. 

Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.

… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass. 

And she keeps staring at you. 

Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz. 

You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk. 

“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you. 

Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller. 

“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “

“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “

You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again. 

She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes. 

You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit. 

“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “

You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under. 

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.

Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.

“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “

“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.” 

“But— “

“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill. 

You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart. 

Ellie was brought up in isolation. 

Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company. 

The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen. 

She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while. 

But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it. 

Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing. 

Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder. 

Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple. 

Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.

It all made her nauseous. 

… But art didn’t. 

She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.

She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.

She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.

The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted. 

It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.

But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care. 

She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture. 

And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?! 

You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed. 

She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft. 

She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate. 

She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted. 

When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself. 

She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat. 

You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing. 

You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.

But it also made her lustful. Hungry. 

And she couldn’t stop staring. 

When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car. 

You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!

Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again. 

I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?

Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck. 

At that moment, she knew what she had to do.

It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing. 

You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive. 

I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!

But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.

You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing. 

Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again. 

They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever. 

They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?

You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings. 

What the fuck is going on?

When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering. 

The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments. 

Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god. 

What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection. 

You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine. 

It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl. 

A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.

Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.

And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive. 

You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

Come back home. Five days.

E.M.

… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship. 

… ♡GIRLDICK♡

E.M.

M. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

M.

… Miller Enterprise. 

Miller. 

… Freckles. 

…. What in the fuck. 

It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you. 

It had been five days. 

You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets. 

You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels. 

You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark. 

But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance. 

Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you. 

You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?

She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it. 

She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off. 

Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you? 

Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her. 

You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs. 

You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip. 

You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.

You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.

Ellie was so nervous. 

She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.

The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not. 

She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time. 

This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it. 

She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion. 

She hated it, she hated it. 

But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it. 

She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.

But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway. 

… Fuck.

Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!

Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.

Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!

You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—

She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly. 

Keep your grip tight when you strike! 

Calm down calm down calm down—

“Boo.” 

You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you. 

You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward. 

Deep breath. 

“Hi, Ellie.”

Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass. 

“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?” 

“I think you know how.” 

You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset. 

“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared. 

She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.

“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.” 

… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?

She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten. 

You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.” 

“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.” 

Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline. 

You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it. 

You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building. 

… Funny. 

“Press it.” 

Her scowl hardened, “What?” 

You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?” 

She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you. 

“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.” 

“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “

“You paid my bail.” 

You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk. 

“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?” 

Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed. 

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.” 

“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight. 

It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage. 

She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums. 

“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“

You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket. 

“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration. 

Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!

Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did. 

“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?” 

“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.” 

You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness. 

“Then do it.”

The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened. 

You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.

Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction. 

She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting. 

You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered. 

You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room. 

She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you. 

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?” 

“N-No— “

“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.

She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”

“Stop crying, Ellie.”

She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.

“Look at me,” you whispered. 

She hesitantly met your eyes. 

“You wanna kiss me?”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench. 

“Answer me.” 

“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”

You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke. 

“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”

She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.

“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?” 

She whined out a needy uh huuuh! 

You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist. 

She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth. 

You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth. 

You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth. 

The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer. 

You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.

You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone. 

“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “

You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.” 

You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them. 

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?” 

She nodded quickly. 

“So fucking talk,” you gritted out. 

“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.” 

You smirked, “You want me?”

“Mmhm!”

You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor. 

“Want me to do what?”

She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red. 

“Um…” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance. 

She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky. 

But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs. 

She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down. 

“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”

You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you. 

You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together. 

“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.

She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.

“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”

She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched. 

“Talk!”

“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”

“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. 

She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”

You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?” 

She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!

“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”

She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights. 

You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue. 

“Get ‘em wet.”

She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek. 

You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them. 

You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you. 

“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. 

She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue. 

“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”

She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open. 

“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”

You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her. 

You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth. 

You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers. 

She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt. 

“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”

Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“ 

“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”

Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet. 

“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her. 

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”

She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “

Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “

She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.

“Fuckmemommy!”

You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!

You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch. 

“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.

“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “

“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears. 

“M-Mhhm!—“

“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.

You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.

“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?

She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!

It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm. 

You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you. 

“Like when I touch you there?” 

“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.

“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her. 

“Fuck yes!” 

“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”

You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!

The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”

Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”

You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself. 

You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face. 

“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”

She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down. 

“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?” 

“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred. 

“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”

She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”

You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.

“C’mon, honey.” 

Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off. 

Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands. 

You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it. 

“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask. 

You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”

“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp. 

“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers. 

“He’s fucking dead, who cares.” 

You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.

“… Hm.” 

You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?” 

She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded. 

Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.” 

You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.

Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!

“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?” 

“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.

Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak. 

“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?” 

You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.

“Up to you.” 

“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip. 

You leaned back in her mom’s seat. 

“Ellie.” 

The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides. 

“Yes?” 

“… C’mere.” 

She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you. 

You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater. 

You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.” 

She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor. 

You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—

“Are they… Do you like them?” 

Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you. 

Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently. 

“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.” 

She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.” 

You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down. 

Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants. 

Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered. 

You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth. 

She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard. 

Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back. 

“Feels so… mmh!”

You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers. 

And then you slapped it. Hard. 

She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm. 

“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “

Smack!

“Yes!”

SMACK!

She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”

You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist. 

You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant. 

The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned. 

“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?” 

She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you. 

“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?” 

“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”

You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”

She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “

“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.” 

You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body. 

“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.

“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout. 

“Mhm!”

You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk. 

“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”

She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt. 

You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression. 

“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.” 

She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”

Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.” 

Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment. 

You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?” 

Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.

“You’re fucking cra— “

You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.

“Say it.” 

“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily. 

“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.” 

She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered. 

You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.” 

You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store. 

“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”

She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.

“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?” 

Her mouth dropped open in submission.

“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?” 

You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead. 

“Yes, baby, you may.” 

You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours. 

You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight. 

“Want me t’show you how?” 

She nodded intensely. 

You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head. 

“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.” 

She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,

and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.

You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you. 

“Wanna taste, Ellie?”

“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out. 

“Lick me, then, honey.” 

She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there. 

“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out. 

She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks. 

“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes. 

You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls. 

“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”

She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit. 

She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!

“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “

“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you. 

“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“

She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”

You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room. 

“Ellie.”

“Mommym’gonnacum— “

“I swear to g— “

“S’so wet, oh god, please!” 

SMACK!

Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin. 

You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck. 

“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass. 

She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “

SMACK!

She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning. 

“Motherfuc— “

SMACK! 

You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint. 

You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.

“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.

“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!” 

“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.” 

You pulled away and walked towards your discarded

bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail. 

Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk. 

You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you. 

“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.” 

Shock appeared on her face.

“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.

“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”

“I’m not sca— “

“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.” 

She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you. 

And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle. 

“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.

She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her. 

She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth. 

“Nasty slut, goddamn— “

She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.

You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag. 

“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.

She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard. 

You pulled out and let her go.

She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.

“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck you,” she spluttered.

“I’m gonna. Get up.”

Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.

“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand. 

“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”

“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”

She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “

You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking. 

“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.” 

“I-It’s pretty?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder. 

You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling. 

“Taste like fucking honey.” 

“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation. 

“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness. 

“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.

“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.” 

She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back. 

You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”

“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”

“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.

The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench. 

You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her. 

You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”

“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.

“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.

“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”

“Yeah, baby? It hurts?” 

“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“

You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.

“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “

“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?” 

“Yeah, mommy!”

You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name. 

“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “

You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling. 

“Feelin’ good?”

She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”

“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”

You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her. 

“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again. 

You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit. 

The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “

“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder. 

“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again. 

“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy. 

She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up. 

You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it. 

She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips. 

But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!

You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria. 

It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.

You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still. 

“Look at it, baby— “

She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.

You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”

She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“

“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust. 

“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”

“Fuuuck— “

“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “

“M-Mommy!”

“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”

“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”

You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “

She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear. 

“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”

She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her. 

She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you. 

You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips. 

You both caught your breaths in soothing silence. 

After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down. 

You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.

“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”

Her brows creased, “Like what?”

“Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you. 

You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.

“Stop doing that, just relax.” 

“… What’d I do?”

You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?” 

You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”

You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.” 

You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes. 

You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?” 

“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache. 

You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart. 

Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you. 

Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.

Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “

“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes. 

You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.

Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest. 

“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.

You smirked, “I know, take your time.” 

She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction. 

She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing. 

“Okay?” you checked in.

She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”

“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.” 

“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked. 

Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you. 

Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench. 

“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?” 

“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips. 

Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.

She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft. 

She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “

Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “

She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires. 

Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!

Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her. 

“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “

“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”

She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you. 

You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you. 

You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think. 

You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately. 

She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick. 

“T-Turn around, Ellie.”

“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate. 

“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.

“O-Okay.”

She was too fucking close. 

She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again. 

She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock. 

You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you. 

You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her. 

“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”

You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state. 

You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “

“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.

“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.

“Fuck—fuckyes!”

“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “

Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you. 

She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.

You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back. 

Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face. 

You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic. 

You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily. 

She was too close. Too fucking close.

The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you. 

You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.

You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.

“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle. 

“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments. 

You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “

“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her. 

She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “

“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”

Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?” 

You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?

“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.” 

You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in. 

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” 

Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault. 

But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive. 

But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob. 

“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right. 

You were worthless. Held no value in this society. 

In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.

“You won’t.” 

You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will. 

Maybe in another life. 

hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE 

this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit 

don’t hate me too much? 

omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly 

thank u 4 reading if u did :3

hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie

[dancermk]

I’m a little disappointed to see so much discourse, fandom competitiveness, and plain arguing going around at the moment in regards to queer film/TV. People complaining about too much sex, not enough sex, too cheesy, made for the hets, too happy, too sad, too realistic, too unrealistic, and a million other petty issues. I, for one, am a queer person in my 50s and I grew up with practically zero representation! Yes, we want to continue onwards and upwards with quality and varied shows BUT let’s be HAPPY we now have representation! Like, actual shows where the central characters are queer, not just a side character who gets f*cking murdered! There is room for all different types of representation - so enjoy the types you like, and let others enjoy what they like.

And on a side note: progress is progress and film/tv is a business that has to turn a profit! If some queer content is made to appeal to the straight community, and will also act as a means of reducing homophobia and increasing understanding, then that’s a good thing. That means in the future more and more content will include queer stories and representation. If only 10% (ish) of the population is the maximum target audience then shows won’t keep getting made!

There is a huge backlash all over the world right now - a “push back” by conservatives and religious groups that want to wind back the clock, and specifically the last decade of advances.

So stick together queers and LGBTQIA+ allies.

I’m super happy knowing I don’t have to wait years between content anymore. And I’ve loved all different types of shows over the last 5 years, for lots of different reasons!

Interview with the Vampire - is giving me the toxic, passionate gothic love affair I’ve always wanted. And addressing interracial relationships.

Heartstopper - is filling me up with pure joy and hopefulness for the future.

Shameless - gave me Ian and Mickey - unique, anti stereotypical gays with a tragic yet ultimately beautiful love story spanning 11 years

Lone Star 911 - is giving me TK and Carlos whose sexuality barely factors into the storyline! Yay!

Looking - gave me an authentic queer experience and an intoxicating love triangle.

Red, white and Royal Blue - gave me a sweet, cute romcom that allowed reality to be sidelined. Fun escapism!

Young Royals - had me captivated by first love and intense angst.

Fire Island - an underrated romcom that made me laugh so hard I cried.

Sex education - shoved the realities of sex in our faces and provided me with laughter and drama and a range of queer identities.

Gentlemen Jack -gave me historical lesbians with spectacular wit, and feminine power.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg- because there’s SO SO SO many more shows I could mention! Don’t at me because I didn’t mention YOUR favourite. This is my point! There is SO much great content it would take all day for me to include everything. This is just a sample - and that’s f*cking brilliant!!

So maybe we could all start posting/tweeting etc about what WE DO LIKE / LOVE / MAKES US FEEL LOVED AND SEEN and put down the device if we’ve got nothing nice to say.

Sending everyone a love filled week! 💜

[indierpgnewsletter]

The 1980 Dallas RPG was a Soap Opera Wargame?

In 1980, SPI, a company known for its wargames did a strange thing and published an RPG based on the Dallas tv show. If you don't know anything about the tv show, don't worry, I will protect you. It's too late for me though. You go on ahead. Basically, it was a hit TV show of big money family feuding. Imagine Succession but it was written in the 1980s and instead of TV news, it was an oil company. Unlike the show, the RPG wasn't a hit. The art director of the game famously wrote that they printed 80,000 copies and that was 79,999 more than people wanted. That one person seemed to be this person's grandma who bought it for him to save his soul from D&D/Satan.

What is this game though? Well, James F Dunnigan, founder of SPI and designer of legendary wargame, Panzerblitz, seems to have applied his analytical mind to the internecine squabbles of Dallas and decided that, if you think about it, petty family drama isn't so different from CIA covert ops. And he was right.

As you'd expect from a wargame, the rules are dry and clinical to a fault. You start by picking one of the 9 characters from the show - JR, Jock, Sue Ellen, Pam, etc. They all have stats like Persuasion, Coercion, Seduction. And these stats have attack/defend values. For example, JR has a Coercion of 24 because he's a real jerk. Sue Ellen has a Seduction resist of 18, but it's 20 against JR, because again, he seems to have been a real jerk. This game genuinely went out of its way to make sure you know JR's wife really really doesn't want to go near him.

Each character starts the session ("episode") with a secret story-based objective. Jock wants to run an angry former employee out of town, JR wants to cheat an Arab oil magnate out of 100 million dollars, Sue Ellen wants to do a favour for an old boyfriend. Yeah, what can I say? Some of these objectives feel more important than others. Regardless, you achieve these objectives by controlling 4 or more specific minor characters and organisations by the end of the game. For example, to enact his 100 million dollar plan, JR has to control the Ewing Oil Company, Mustafa Quattara, Professor Bayard, the reporter Mary Cleef, and so on. But characters' objective overlap so Pam also wants Mustafa Quattara and Jock also wants Professor Bayard. These conflicting goals means players need to scheme, negotiate and attack each other so they can win.

The sessions play out in five rounds. Each round, the GM sets the scene. Then, the players can negotiate and make deals. Then, we enter the conflict phase where each player makes three moves - either trying to gain control of uncontrolled NPCs, or attacking another player to steal an NPC from under them, or protecting their own NPCs. And the game throws in little curveballs every round: Oops, some of JR's drinking buddies are in town and he can't say no to them, so his character is out of this round. Hopefully the player has some NPCs that they can use to act instead. Oops, Mustafa Quattara is being chased by assassins. Whoever controls his card has to give it up as he disappears for a bit and comes back uncontrolled. The end result is somewhere in between Vampire the Masquerade (or rather, Undying) and Blood on the Clocktower.

Sure, the math is dense (you roll 2d6 under the difference between the attack value and the defense value, plus or minus any currency spent). Sure, it takes 9 players to really sing. Sure, multiple people can complete their objective so you need to track victory points separately to decide the real winner. Sure, you have to take the homophobia out of the Seduction rules. Sure, roleplaying is completely optional. Sure, sure, sure. The game is a mess. But it's a very playable mess. I'd go so far as to say it's an electric mess. It's shockingly (sorry) fun to play. I think the secret lies in a very clear agenda for the players, a tight boardgame-like action economy, a premise that supports hilarious degrees of pettiness, and an inter-personal experience that demands everyone pay attention to what their friends are doing.

So. Am I planning a full 9 person play-by-post game of this? Yes. Am I thinking of changing the setting and the math? Yes. Is that basically designing a new game? Yes. Should this game be labelled "Powered by Dallas" or, as one of my players suggested, "Hornswoggled by Dallas"? YES.

(This was first published in the Indie RPG Newsletter.)

[thunderstomm]

I was originally not going to make a post about this, but after seeing a few other posts about it, I wanted to make my own. I have a LOT to talk about.

TW: Transphobia, Homophobia, Ableism

If you don’t know what I’m taking about- there was a post made by a user, who’s name I will not disclose or share, who discussed how they would rewrite the new Monster High G3 Cartoon. While some of the points were mundane, or points of preference, others made me very uncomfortable, as they got rid of much of the diversity that G3 has brought into the Monster High Universe. I want to quickly go through three of the points that I felt were erasing these steps in diversity, and my thoughts on each one, and why I think that it’s iffy, to say the least.

First is the statement “all of the couples from G1 will stay together”. While this may read to some as a preference for the old couples, in the context of rewriting G3- it comes across as the erasure of both couples involving a neurodivergent character being the subject of a crush, and being seen as desirable and loved (Manny x Twyla), and what probably was the intended couples they wanted to seperate, the canonically queer ships. In particular, this is most likely against Clankie (and POSSIBLY an s2 ship which I won’t say by name because some people want to go in blind. Instead I will refer to it as 🧡💚.). In this rewrite context, wanting to take away queer relationships which many writers and designers for Monster High have fought for in many shapes and forms. G1 never had explicit queer characters, the closest things being a scrapped SDCC diary entry (Valentine x Spelldon), Post-Ending 3rd party statements (Clawdeen is a Lesbian, Rebecca x Venus, etc.) and implied characters (Kiyomi). While these are okay, they are NOT the same as explicit queer couples, which are arguably more important to push forward in the talk and scope of present and future representation.

While it is okay to prefer the G1 ships, in the context of bringing them back for G3, it erases these queer couples, and ignores the lore and universe of G3. In G3, Cleo and Deuce are exes. And if you don’t like that, you can still watch G1!! It’s not magically disappeared, the movies and shows and music is all still out there, and most of it is free! But, erasing Clankie, 🧡💚, and other potential queer ships in G3, for the preservation of a m/f ship isn’t okay.

On the subject of erasure, there is the statement “Frankie is still non-binary, but now uses she/they pronouns”. A character canonically using they/them in cartoons, especially ones made for kids, are uncommon. Honestly, I don’t even know if I could name 10, and that says more about the state of non-binary representation than it does about me. While changing the pronouns of a cisgender character to gender neutral ones is often done in fandom, and often not a point of issue, taking a character who is canonically non-binary and solely uses they/them and giving them typically gendered pronouns erases that under represented group, and allows for transphobes to ignore the “they” in “she/they”, and only use “she” for the character. This is an issue in real life too, for many who use multiple sets of pronouns, including myself (they (preferred) / he) ! We deserve both of their sets of pronouns to be used, and people who only use they/them deserve to be referred to by and as they/them. These changes hurt everyone.

Then, we come to the one I see the most talk about, and the one that made me audibly yell “what the f-?!”- taking away Twyla’s canon autism diagnosis, and symptoms & traits, and replacing it with autism coding, so that she is easier to identify with. First of all- easier for who??? Neurotypicals ?? It is incredibly rare to see a character on kids TV outright say “I am autistic”, and Twyla is wonderful as representation. Twyla will not resonate or be relatable to every person- but that is true for all characters, not just autistic ones. Autistic people are not a monolith, it is a spectrum, with many different ways to present itself. Also… taking away all of her traits and symptoms to make her more relatable? These traits and symptoms are what would have made her “autistic coded”, and without them, you have a character who is NT.

Autism isn’t a quirky word you can use to describe anyone, it is a disability, that myself and many others have, and see misrepresented time and time again. And to say that a good example of it is not good, and would be better off to be erased and replaced with coding is insane. Coding is okay, but that’s all it is. Real spoken representation matters so much to me, and so many other people, even if the characters we see are not identical to us in those symptoms and traits they exhibit. These characters should not be changed, but rather, more autistic characters, with different presenting symptoms and traits, should be introduced !

You can like G1, you can prefer G1, but that does not mean that you have to make a sanitised version of G3, that makes it identical to G1. In terms of representation, there is no arguing that G3 has G1 beat. The poster said on their post that “any new characters would be made more relatable”, but… to who? Because I relate to a lot of the G3 characters more than the G1 ones, and I grew up loving G1! It’s not been wiped, all of the media still exists for you to watch, and make headcanons for ! If you like G1- good for you! But please, stop trying to make G3 exactly like it. Because change is inevitable in these kinds of reboots, and it allows for the representation some want to take away.

Thank-You for those who read all the way!

[teambyler]

The reason for no explicit hints to the GA that Mike likes Will yet

One thing doubters of Byler have right is that there have NOT been the usual (i.e., explicit for the General Audience) clues that Mike is gay/bi or likes Will. We all know what this would look like in TV media.

Here are two examples of the classic Almost-Kiss With Interruption Trope from s1:

We haven't seen that for Mike and Will. Nor have we seen Transparent Closet tropes like Mike having a clear Gay Panic moment, or zooming-in to his face while he checks out a guy, etc. (NOTE: They HAVE been there but are too subtle for the GA. Mike's entire demeanor in the "I feel like I lost you" scene is there for those who see gay subtext.)

Why not?

Put yourself in the Duffers’ shoes. Imagine you plan a Byler conclusion. Would you be able to do any of the above things? NO, not without giving away the ending.

There would have been a huge hoopla in the mainstream in 2022, about the "bisexual love triangle" in Stranger Things. It would dwarf the current one about Buck being bi in 9-1-1, with the media screaming "Breakthrough for LGBT representation!" There would be little remaining suspense about who Mike would end up with in the YEARS leading up to s5, because (1) any non-Byler conclusion would become the most notorious instance of queerbaiting in media history, and, (2) in many ways with which Bylers are familiar, even the GA would have to conclude that Mike and Will are meant for each together and more compatible than El and Mike ever were.

A love triangle isn't effective if there's no suspense. The Duffers kept suspense with Jancy at the end of s1. Through the season, it looked like Nancy was going to end up with Jonathan. But then they redeemed Steve and he had his scene with Nancy at Christmas. THAT was enough to maintain the "Will they or won't they?" for a straight love triangle. But any similar setup for Mike, El, and Will case would have no suspense: the GAY HYYYPPPE would overshadow everything. In the case of 9-1-1, the writers have handled the hype for Buck+Eddie by placing another GAY love interest (Tommy) in the way of the pairing many fans have long wanted. The Duffers clearly can't do that with El.

The Duffers have to limit themselves to bread crumbs that Mike and Will will end up together, enough for observant viewers to see. And it's REALISTIC that homophobia would keep two best friends who love each other from hiding their true feelings, for fear that it would ruin their friendship. It will be like every other well-prepared TV plot twist in recent years. Many will be surprised; others will brag how they saw it all along. Everyone will see the past clues and exclaim, "OF COURSE this is what they were building up to! It was OBVIOUS all along!" =D

-teambyler

[johannestevans]

so bizarre when people are like "Oh the glorification of incest has real life consequences" and they mean like. someone who wrote wincest. like my grandfather didn't molest me because a completely different person wrote porn about 2 fictional brothers fucking in a tv show

incest is a problem in the home because like...

we live in a society that doesn't value the bodily autonomy or rights of the child, including rights to privacy

children are often not given suitable education about their body parts or their rights to them, so they cannot necessarily accurately describe sexual abuse

because children are taught that the satisfaction and contentment of adults around them is more important than anything else, and that disobedient is the worst thing they can be, children are often not empowered to criticise or even question authority figures who might be abusing them

when children do speak up about abuse, people either want to deny it as an invention because children cannot know what sex is, or they want to say it's a lie bc they don't want to believe that someone they care about or respect might abuse children

and then there's further issues w sexualisation + misogyny + homophobia, like esp when it comes to the acceptable sexualisation of teenage sisters / daughters / nieces especially, and it being a big pop culture thing, but like. that's also a v diff set of tropes in diff media - mainstream porn, mainstream cishet stuff, etc

the thing about wincest is that like. a lot of siblings who are isolated from society and become codependent do end up in incestuous relationships as a coping mechanism and a way of self-soothing/soothing one another, and while it's obviously an indicator of deep harm done and often does further harm to them the longer it goes on like that's... a real thing that happens to kids who were abused in the way that they are

like i understand being grossed out or disgusted by it in fanfic or on tv or whatever but like. incest is a really big problem in our society and it's largely extremely invisible?

but the idea that someone abuses a family member or becomes sexually codependent with a sibling or cousin etc because of fiction is just like... ? do you not understand what it's like to be a victim of incest? like, do you not get that there's far broader structures in place that lead to the disenfranchisement and institutional permissiveness to a culture of child abuse, including csa and incest?

it just seems like a fundamental mix-up of cause and effect

[tourneys-by-me]

We were specific… but now… we are multiple…

Welcome to the Multiple Elements Character Tournament!!

This is a tournament for characters who can use 2 or more elements!

Rules:

Remember, this is a tournament about fictional characters so please! be nice! I don’t want any hate or bigotry (racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, stuff like that) here.

No real people! That includes streamers and MCYT! I’m fine with most things but will ban certain characters/media depending on how much unnecessary discourse they will create and how much we can separate the art from the artist. So HP won’t be allowed if you want a metric.

You can submit as many characters as you want, but please submit them one form at a time.

Do NOT submit the same character over and over again!

Make sure you spell the name of the character and piece of media they are from correctly please.

The character doesn’t necessarily have to use magic to get in. A character could use a flame and water sword and they would still be eligible for the tournament.

Characters who are more proficient in one element are allowed, but the character has to use other elements somewhat frequently. The other elements shouldn’t be an afterthought essentially.

I will allow media if they have their own unconventional “elements" in. Elements that weren't necessarily featured in the last tournament (Water, Earth, Fire, Air, Electricity, Ice, Vegetation, Metals, Light, and Darkness). What I mean is that, yes, the fighting type from pokemon and almighty skills from megami tensei are considered as elements in this tournament.

That being said, power systems like the hunter x hunter nen system won’t count. This is because Nen is more like using different techniques not actual elements. While the aura types for nen are more like categorizations for a character’s abilities. It’s kinda like the quirk categorization (emitter, mutant, and transformation) in my hero academia for a more simple comparison.

The Demon Slayer breathing styles are NOT allowed! They’re not actually summoning elements, it’s a visual metaphor.

When it comes to Pokémon, they are allowed, but under specific circumstances. Either: their ability changes their type (protean, multi type, etc), have a wide and diverse move pool regarding types, if a pokemon is a dual type, and/or if a pokemon has a gimmick that meets the prior criteria (think the rotom forms or the ogerpon masks). I’m not including Terastallization as an excuse for any Pokémon who don’t meet the prior criteria because it feels like such a cop out using a gimmick, that most likely won’t appear in later gens, to include certain Pokémon.

Trainers from Pokémon are allowed! As long as the pokemon they use are diverse in their typing and/or fit any other criteria listed above.

I might add more rules later on if necessary.

Also, if you want a list of "unconventional elements" that I'd most likely allow, please look at the "Elements and Their Associated Powers And Traits" tab on the "Elemental Powers" TV Tropes page.

I made totally different form for pokemon due to how many submissions I anticipate to get from that franchise. So submit characters from pokemon to that form please.

I’m gonna try to shoot for a 128 character tournament, but idk how many characters from the same franchise will be allowed in. Probably around 2-5 characters depending on what the submissions are like.

Going to shut the forms down on April 6th or at around 700 submissions. The last tournament was 1,530 total submissions and that was a lot, so I’m going to cut this one down a bit.

Blogs I’m tagging under the cut (Not forcing y’all to reblog this post, I just want some fresh eyes on this tournament)

@tournament-announcer @fefuckability @favoritepokemontournament @best-kirby-character-tournament @foundfamilyadoptionagency @doyouknowthischaracter @haveyouplayedthisgame-poll @weeb-polls-with-pip @ultimate-blorbo-bracket

[sevensoulmates]

I don’t have real coherent words after that Oliver interview so I need to hear yours. Because OH MY GOD

Vindication??? VINDICATION???? VIN~DIC~ATION???!!!!!!

Like we knew. We all knew. All the fans knew, and everyone working with the show knew. But the fact that they're actually talking about it? Being transparent about it? From Mr. PR Golden Boy's mouth to the masses? Mind-blowing.

To know for a fact that Bi Buck (and I'm assuming queer Eddie and queer Buddie) was talked about (again we KNEW but like now we know know, ya know)??? I mean Tim literally said years ago that all the discussions we have about buddie online are the discussions they have in the writer's room. The fact that they TRIED to give it us and were shut down. The fact that we still rallied behind them because we fucking. KNEW?!!?!?!

Like queer fans especially like....I'm not going to get into the history of queercoding/the Hayes Code, but anyone who's been around the block with queer media just knows that writers (not just 911 writers) have done their damndest over the years to give the audience queer characters while still trying to appease their homophobic bosses that control their livelihood and the life of their art in general.

It just fucking sucks that only now, when networks realize that openly queer media sells, that they're finally allowing writers and creators to finally tell their authentic stories.

911 is interesting. They're kinda like the elder Gen-Z/Young millennial cuspers. They started during a time when queer media was allowed some visibility but still had heavy sanctions placed upon it, and so they still dealt with homophobia and discrimination in underhanded and mostly invisible ways, and are living long enough to see the social transition into big profitable open queer media.

It's like...I've heard a lot of elder queer people question why some of their fellow elders are so "mad" that young queer people have it "easier" and can be more "open". The critique is "isn't that what we were all fighting for? So that younger people did not have to deal with what we dealt with?" The same goes for TV. I know a lot of people (like people who came from SPN or the MCU or Merlin or Rizzoli & Isles or Sherlock, etc) are seeing what's happening with 911 and they're experiencing this shock of like "we deserved this" and they did. But now they get to see the fruits of their labor come true for new(er) shows like 911 or RW&Rb or Heartstopper or Heartbreak High, or Interview with a Vampire or Good Omens or Umbrella Acadmey or Euphoria or Yellowjackets or the Haunting of Bly Manor, etc.

It's still a long battle, but occasionally, like now, we get to see these BIG wins, and it should be something to celebrate.

This, combined with the fact that we knew a queer Eddie storyline was also being discussed, tells me all I needed to know. And again, I already fucking knew.

Now all we gotta do is wait. We've already waited this long.

[spacelazarwolf]

I think "why GenZ went puritan" is a mix of factors, one is algorithm, we have a whole generation with just a very small number of social media, vs the millennials we grew up on message boards we had to find ourselves, GenZ started off with twitter, etc and an algorithm that fed them content, with little to no skills to find their own experience so this is in part a way to impose their taste on a world that they feel like they have little control over "why don't people make...." I guarantee they do, but people don't have the skills to find a book not being pushed by a TikTok influencer who landed in their feed through algorithm

another factor I think is that people are being pushed by the Trump/post-Trump zeitgeist to be responsible while also being disempowered. They're told that our system is broken, Republicans and Democrats are the same, no one is doing ANYTHING! and barring "The Revolution" nothing will ever get better, but also you, yes you have a personal responsibility to stand against racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. This leads to a lot of posting

also we live in an age, MeToo etc where a lot of gross powerful men have been slayed like dragons by people speaking out. Now if you're 14 in Des Moines you're unlikely to have the dirt to bring down a rich powerful and gross figure in the world, but you can also get that dragon slaying thrill from a call out post about a slightly more popular figure in your fandom

finally, bullying, its not really fun to attack someone if they don't give a shit. So I can post all day about how Matt Gaetz has sex with underaged girls for money. But he's never gonna reply or care. But Yiffy the fan artist will reply in tears begging me to take down my post where I say they support incest and child abuse, and I can feel powerful, righteous and important..

also I guess, just if you grow up in a right wing house where the TV, the Church you go/went to, and your parents endlessly bang on about the gross Queers and Qanon style paranoia about pedoes controlling the world etc etc that shit isn't as easy to get rid of as you think and people carry those mindsets over into their "fuck you mom and dad!" progressive/leftist/socialist politics.

nothing to add, 10/10 analysis

[lgbtpopcult]

November WLW entertainment rundown

TV

Love Senior the series, first episode drops on YouTube November 8.

Scott Pilgrim November 17

Black Cake: Season One Premiere – November 1st

Beacon 23: Season One Premiere – November 12

Movies

You’re Not Suppose To Be Here, November 4, Lifetime

You’re Not Supposed to Be Here,” which premieres Nov. 4, stars Stause and Diora Baird as a lesbian couple babymooning in a remote mountain town. Developed from Lauren Caster’s concept, “You’re Not Supposed to Be Here” follows pregnant couple Zoe (Stause) and Kennedy (Baird), who are offered a vacation from their stressful lives when Kennedy’s boss gives them a key to a cabin in the woods. When they arrive, however, they are met with less than welcoming arms, prompting Zoe to sound alarms of homophobia, which Kennedy attempts to tamper down.

Books, Games Music etc

That French Summer

Reeling from a very public scandal, Delia Holland takes refuge in a run-down French chateau. She’s determined to stay out of the lime-light, to rebuild her life, and most of all, to be happy. Guillotining her husband would be the icing on the cake, if only she could find him.

After an accident and a surprise breakup, Paris Bennett finds herself alone on her longed-for French vacation. Her characteristically immaculate plans have fallen apart, and she’s barely holding herself together. Plus, the novelty of being Paris in Paris is rapidly starting to wear off.

But when a thunderstorm brings the two together for a night, something begins to sparkle. Delia’s heart starts to fill with happiness again, and Paris suddenly finds that her carefully laid out plans aren’t as necessary as she thought.

Grumpy neighbors, interfering English teachers, a housekeeper who’s more than she seems, a battered car, an even more battered moped, rats and spiders galore, and a chateau that could fall on their heads at any moment come together to prove that the perfect love story doesn’t have to be perfect at all. Sometimes happiness is there for the taking, as long as you can persuade yourself to choose it.

This Bed We Made

https://store.steampowered.com/app/1243850/This_Bed_We_Made/

"February 17, 1958. Sophie's shift at the Clarington Hotel begins like any other — until she opens the door to room 505 and a crimson light comes out…" Does that appeal to your curiosity? If so, this noir investigation full of guilty pleasures and a nosy maid is perfect for you. And of course, you’ll be able to form all sorts of bonds with the hotel guests you usually work for.

Available for: PC

~The Summer Romance Bloomed From A Lie~

This is a story about finding love to overwrite the feelings for the one they held dearest. A girls love visual novel about summer, love and adolescence.

3 Nov, 2023 https://store.steampowered.com/app/1575980/UsoNatsu_The_Summer_Romance_Bloomed_From_A_Lie/

[shrink-or-grow]

WELCOME TO THE BLOG!!! TAKE A SIZE RAY AND HAVE A SEAT.

This is a blog for making polls about giant/tiny size headcanons about characters from all kinds of different media, run by me, the one-and-only @tiny-brain. Yeah, you've probably (never) heard of me. I (don't) get around.

Each poll will be about a different character from a different piece of media, determining whether they should shrink, grow, or if they'd work better as a full-on sizeshifter!

I'm going to try to make this a daily thing, but don't be surprised if I disappear or forget to post some days. Basically just check back whenever and see if there's a new poll or not. I'll try not to keep you all waiting too long if I do go missing.

There's also a chance I'll hand this blog off to someone else in the future, cause while I obviously wanna stick around for as long as I can, I DO NOT want to be doing this forever. I might be willing to come back on occasion though, so who knows?

ANYWAY ON TO THE MOST IMPORTANT PART: DA RULES!!!

ALL CHARACTERS MUST BE SUGGESTED VIA ASKS! If you have questions about a character you are submitting please DM me through my main blog, @tiny-brain.

Characters can come from almost anything (movies, TV, video games, web series, comics, novels, etc), and be almost anything (even inanimate objects or memes/jokes).

This blog is SFW only. PLEASE DO NOT SUGGEST CHARACTERS WITH OVERLY SEXUAL/NSFW CONNOTATIONS BEHIND THEM (Or if they come from something intentionally meant to be NSFW) NSFW blogs, please DNI.

DO NOT Suggest characters associated with problematic real-life individuals/organizations. I will not tolerate any racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, hatred for religious or ethnic groups, or any other prejudice of any kind. This blog is meant to be a safe space for everyone. If you are not willing to tolerate others because of their differences, do not interact with me or follow me.

I also reserve the right to refuse to do a poll on a character if I don't want to do one for them. You can DM me on my main account to argue your case for them, and I will explain my own reasoning, but if I still refuse, please do not continue to bug me about it.

Your OCs are wonderful and I love them all, but chances are they're already big and/or small, if you're the kind of people I think you are (cause who else would follow a blog like this?). Suggesting them for this poll would be kind of redundant, wouldn't it? If you want to submit an OC that's not already size-related though, that's fair game, just be sure to provide me with art/images of them to use in the poll header.

Please make sure to be kind and considerate to others! This isn't a competition, so if more people vote for a character to be a different size than what you thought they should be, don't be a jerk about it. We've all got our own headcanons, and if you want Reigan to be a smol little guy in your AU fanfic, nobody's stopping ya. In fact, tell people about it! I'm sure they'll love your ideas, even if they chose to vote differently.

AGTHMP I ALMOST FORGOR THIS RULE AM SORRYYY Basically, please only submit one character per ask. That means no groups for now, sorry. I'd like for each individual character to have their own poll before we start messing with both them and all their friends together as a unit. Sorry!

And that should do it! Now start suggesting characters! I can't wait to get this started. I put off doing homework for this!

[peach-pot]

something I’m so fascinated by is when tv show/movie writers want to include jokes at a groups expensive, but don’t make a decision on whether they want just the audience to be laughing at them or the other characters as well, and end up in this weird space where they are both… canonically unserious and serious. here it’s better to just give examples:

(gonna talk about fatphobia and homophobia typical of 2000s comedies for a sec)

in pitch perfect they have jokes about fat amy where what she says/believes is meant to conflict with what’s true in universe. she sings for the first time for chloe and aubrey and the joke is meant to be that what she’s doing is embarrassing, even though she’s trying to show off. a lot of her jokes with bumper boil down to her thinking she’s attractive, when he thinks she’s not. so these jokes are meant to be funny to us, because she thinks she’s talented/attractive/etc., when everyone around her sees she’s not. but they also include jokes where the audience is supposed to laugh because she IS actually these things, and it’s meant to be unexpected/unrealistic to reality. the big example that comes to mind is when she gets a phone call over a school break and we see that she’s actually hanging out at a pool with a few attractive guys around her, calling back to a joke where she referred to multiple boyfriends of hers. the first time it was meant to be funny because the audience would assume she was lying, the second time it’s meant to be funny because it goes against the audience’s expectations… but now all those jokes that rely on fat amy being unattractive within the pitch perfect universe don’t work. because they just told us that she is.

and then in community, there’s troy and abed, who have jokes where everyone around them thinks they’re gay, but they turn out not to be. a clear example of this is when troy’s textbook has a romantic drawing of abed in it that shirley thinks he drew, but it turns out to be a used textbook that came that way. but there are also jokes where the audience is meant to laugh about troy and abed doing something gay together. for example, there’s a joke where annie says she thought troy was trying to hold her hand, but he had actually just confused her for abed. these jokes, unlike the ones where the characters are in on it to a greater extent, don’t offer any explanation for why troy and abed are doing something gay, and end up just… making them gay. so troy and abed both aren’t actually gay (and the joke is that their peers keep assuming they are) and ARE actually gay (which is meant to be inherently funny to the audience because it’s 2009)

idk, i just think it’s interesting to see the ways in which creators kind of forget to keep things consistent when they have the opportunity to make jokes about a marginalized group. like it doesn’t matter if they make a firm call on whether or not amy is actually attractive or if they always remember to give an in universe explanation for why troy and abed are doing something seen as gay if they aren’t gay. no one will notice if it changes joke to joke as long as the jokes are funny.

[olderthannetfic]

/726901861182996480/ a lot of the Richard Siken response is honestly so homophobic, trying to come up with some sinister reason for why a gay man would be interested in writing or reading sexy fanfic about attractive men in a TV show. There was a viral post going around here by some person with a Stranger Things username (not insinuating that fandom is especially weird or anything, just that I remember this person had one of the characters from that show as their username) that suggested he was a creep or groomer or something because he had not responded well to a teenager basically wanting him to do her homework for her, but “he happily writes fanfic of shows for her age demographic” (or something like that) which is both a truly bizarre description of Supernatural, a show that’s always been aimed at adults even if it also has a fair number of teenage fans, but also is really clearly trying to invoke some sort of Groomer Panic in a time when that’s rising as a form of violent homophobia toward LGBTQ+ people especially those who are AMAB. And it’s just such a bizarre statement: even if we were talking about a drama that was aimed at teenagers, in what ways is it “groomer” for an adult to watch this show (lol, on the website that is full of adults freaking out over kids’ shows) or for that adult to find the adult characters played by adult actors attractive enough to write sexy fanfic about them? It’s just really obviously reaching for an excuse to call a gay man a groomer.

In general, I feel like this website has a serious problem (it’s been the case at the very least since the panic over CMBYN, and before anyone gets pissy, I’m not talking about anyone taking issue with the content of the film itself, but the people making weird insinuations about gay/bi men for liking it or “the gay community” for embracing it or over the bi male novel author’s own sexuality or reasons for writing it, etc.) where a lot of people who are not gay/bi men think it’s okay for them to make weird homophobic assertions about it, and generally not bother to question their homophobic beliefs about gay and bi men, because they themselves are some other kind of LGBTQ+. I’m a cis lesbian and a lot of this particular seems to come from cis lesbians and bi women, often trying to couch it in a general sort of skepticism that women as a marginalized group might have toward men as a privileged group, but then it only ever seems to be directed at men who are also marginalized such as gay/bi men (and also MOC) and specifically for things that are a result of those marginalized identities and that don’t affect women — NOT a situation where a man is using his marginalized identity as an excuse for misogyny or anything like that. Anyway, people need to knock that shit off. Not every person in the LGBTQ+ community has the same experience, and being, say, a cis woman who is queer doesn’t necessarily make you any better of an authority on gay or bi men’s lives than cishet people if you aren’t making an effort to talk to them or read stuff by them or learn about their lives, and certainly doesn’t mean you can’t be homophobic toward them — just like how in turn, queer men can be bigoted toward lesbians and/or bi women. I don’t understand how people can be aware of other kinds of intra-LGBTQ+ bigotry — cis gay or bi people being transphobic, gay people being biphobic, etc. — and not be aware that this is also a thing that can happen from other LGBTQ+ people toward gay men.

And being ANY kind of queer absolutely does not give you a get out of jail free card for buying into and disseminating the moral panics about groomers, “kink at pride,” “drag is problematic and always sexual” etc. which are used by the right wing to hurt all of us. This was bad enough in like 2018 as part of the perennial brain worms people on this website have about Pride (that are because way too many of them don’t leave their houses and actually go to a Pride parade) or when people could plausibly believe that “groomer” was purely about shipping discourse and maybe the occasional actually kind of creepy older adult in fandom spaces who spends a little too much time glomming onto teens specifically. But in 2023 you don’t really have any excuse for not being aware of how those terms have broken containment and are now part of regular right-wing propaganda, and particularly a concerted right-wing campaign to try to re-mainstream homophobia in places where it had become socially taboo. Your discomfort around a real adult gay man just enjoying fanfiction, which does not affect you, is not justified and you need to work through that. Using terms like “groomer” for fucking fandom discourse when it’s come to mean what it does in the broader culture is just completely morally reprehensible. Get a fucking grip

--

[scoobydoodean]

Amara: I can feel the love you feel except

It's cloaked in shame

I would like to know what your interpretation of this dialogue, as your more neutral,

I personally ship destiel so my interpretation was it was leaning to dean feeling ashamed for his feelings for Cas and possible internalised homophobia. Amara: I can feel the love you feel except

It's cloaked in shame

I would like to know what your interpretation of this dialogue, as your more neutral,

I personally ship destiel so my interpretation was it was leaning to dean feeling ashamed for his feelings for Cas, not having Cas return his feelings (that reminded me of J. A saying that he didn't think Cas/angels would feel that way, I'm summarizing) and possible internalised homophobia.

There's discourse as wincest shippers think is about Dean's feelings for Sam romantically.  And that's why its cloaked in shame etc

Or is it about the life that dean wants via retirement and wanting to do something else? Like the only qualm I have over this is Amara saying all the love which for me at least indicates a romantic undertone

Okay—so this took me a while to chew on (and I still am tbqh) and I want to preface this by saying nothing I'm saying here is meant to say this is the only way to interpret the dialogue or that dialogue can't represent more than one thing. But I do have a more neutral interpretation for you, anon.

Relevant passage from 11.13 "Love Hurts", where Dean is attacked by a Qareen—an entity that takes on the shape of your "deepest, darkest, desire" in order to get close enough to rip out your heart.

Dean: Find anything? (He turns to see Amara) Qareen!Amara: I understand Dean. Dean: Is that right? Qareen!Amara: the longing in your heart, I feel it too. Dean: (inching towards the knife) Well that’s touching. Consider that you don’t have a heart. Qareen. [...] Qareen!Amara: Who I am doesn’t matter. The real question is who are you? Dean: What do you mean who am I? Qareen!Amara: You’re a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it’s cloaked in shame. When it comes to this, you can’t help yourself, so why fight it. Just give in.

The very first thing I want to point out here, is that the Qareen clearly perceives Amara to be Dean's "deepest darkest desire"—because it takes on her shape—not Cas's shape, or Sam's shape, or hell—Crowley's shape. If it was concerned with the love Dean was feeling for Cas or Sam or someone else deep down, I think it makes sense to say it would have taken one of their shapes—but it doesn't. It presents itself as Amara. And it presents itself as Amara because the Qareen doesn't represent love at all. It represents dark—often fleeting—desire that is mistaken for love. We see this in a few ways.

First, the episode opens with a wife (Melissa) and husband (Dan) going out for an apparent romantic Valentine's Day dinner. They appear deeply in love at first... but then we find out Dan is schtupping the babysitter, Stacy.

Second, while Melissa is out of the room, Stacy and Dan kiss, and Stacy says, "Ew I can taste her mom lipstick…" only to compliment Melissa's lipstick and act like she loves Melissa when Melissa comes back into the room. Stacy also urges Dan to tell Melissa tonight that he's with her now. Dan calls it heartless to do that on Valentine's day, and says he needs time.

Third, while it isn't caught in the transcript, I noticed when I was watching the episode, in the scene where Stacy is at the house alone, flipping through channels on the TV, we catch a snippet of "Rick and Morty" just as the Qareen, in Dan's shape, comes inside the house to kill Stacy.

Rick: You say it is is how it is, but I think a blind man could see that Beth is looking for the door. I barely have a reason to care and even I noticed. Morty: Come on, Rick! Don't talk about my parents like that! Rick: Listen, Morty, I hate to break it to you, but what people call "love" is just a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. It hits hard, Morty, then it slow fades, leaving you stranded in a failing marriage. I did it. Your parents are gonna do it. Break the cycle, Morty.

Fourth, there's the question of who Dan even actually loves. Does he love Melissa, or Stacy, or neither of them? The Qareen takes Stacy's shape to kill him, which suggests he loves the babysitter, but he's also giving the babysitter the runaround and doesn't necessarily seem willing to commit to her. It seems more like he wants to have his cake in eat it too—get the benefits of his long-term relationship and life together with Melissa, while embroiling himself in a sex-filled affair with someone young and attractive, but who really doesn't come off as long-term partner material (thus our indications of his attempts to stall breaking up with Melissa). He also just... doesn't seem that broken up about Stacy's death.

Fifth, there's Melissa herself, who actually knows about Dan's affair but has kept quiet about it. The Qareen takes the shape of Dan to kill her, because her deepest darkest desire is for Dan to love her back. The Qareen itself is only appearing to all of them because, in a lovesick state, Melissa took a "love spell" from a witch that turned sour (the witch despises women who won't simply leave their cheating husbands, and devised the spell to punish the cheaters and the women who run back to them only for them to cheat again). Melissa wanted to make Dan love her again. But that also... makes me question if she actually loves Dan, or whether she just wants him. If you truly love someone, would you be willing to violate their consent like that—by forcing them to love you back when you believe they've fallen out of love with you?

What I'm saying is... I'm not sure anyone is actually seeing who they truly love. I don't think the Qareen can actually see who people really truly love. It only shows them their "deepest, darkest, desire". It shows them what they want at that exact moment in time—a fall into an illicit affair, a desire to force someone to love you back, or in the case of Amara, escape from captivity—from the prison your loved ones have trapped you inside. The Quareen captures—as Rick tells us—something fleeting and primal—just enough to lower the victim's defenses so it can rip out their heart.

Further, Dean himself vehemently rejects the idea that he loves Amara at the end of the episode, and there's a couple of things I'd like to touch on in this dialogue:

Dean: Honestly? You seriously think the sister of God is my deepest darkest desire? Sam: She isn’t? Dean: No! She can’t be! Sam: Why not? Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m… Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil? Dean: For starters, yeah. Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not. Dean: You know that I want her ass dead. Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it? Dean: Standing here right now, every bone in my body wants to run her through. Send her back to that hole she crawled out of. But when I’m near her, I don’t know. Something happens and I can’t explain it, but to call it desire or love…it’s not that. I’m screwed man. We wanna kill the darkness. We need to kill the darkness. And I don’t think I can. I’m sorry to do that to you, ya know, but when it comes right down to it…

First, note the sign blinking "Non-Consensual" through this conversation. What Dean wants to do and his actions when he's actually in Amara's proximity are two very different things. This scares Dean, and it invokes the the memory of Melissa's love spell—her trying to force Dan to love her. Sam points to a severe power imbalance existing between Dean and Amara—implies that anything Amara wants Dean to do, she can likely make him do, and emphasizes that this isn't Dean'a fault or his choice. We get other nods toward the non-consensual element of Dean's connection to Amara in 11.06—how Amara seems able to resist how enthralled she is with Dean and still blast him into walls, but Dean can't lay a hand on her. In 11.13, I think we also get a subtle nod to the non-con angle with Dean going out looking to hook up the first day they're in town for the case, even though he just got lucky the night before and it was clearly a rough night. Sam points out this is unusual for Dean. Imo, this points to Dean trying to reassert control over who he is attracted to and who he shows desire toward.

So consider: "When it comes to this [your attraction to me], you can’t help yourself, so why fight it. Just give in."

Second, notice that Dean is ashamed. This also isn't the first time we've seen this. Dean tried to kill Amara in 11.06 and couldn't. He deflected then hid it when Cas pressed him on Amara getting away. He reiterates the shame he feels here by insisting it can't be true that he desires Amara because that would make him complicit, weak, and evil just for starters. I'm reminded of Dan hiding the nanny cam, only to show Dean the footage of him punching a hole through Stacy's chest, pleading with Dean to believe that it wasn't him when it's someone who looks exactly like him. Dean can't control what happens around Amara, but he feels implicated anyway—he hides in shame.

For these reasons, I think the most direct reading here is that Dean is ashamed of Amara being his "deepest, darkest, desire," and I think it's also possible that talk of "love" by Qareen!Amara is misdirection—false love for Amara (fleeting desire for what she represents) mispresented as real love. Of course, something can mean more than one thing, and I think there's many ways to play in the sandbox with this episode and this dialogue, but I do think the chief thing they wanted to emphasize in this episode was that Dean is scared of his connection to Amara, and that it isn't his choice, but Dean feels shame anyway (so much so that he hides it until this episode). Amara wants him to give into his desire, and the Qareen also wants him to (so it can kill him) and mischaracterizes what Dean feels as love just as it mischaracterizes what Stacy and Dan and Melissa all feel as love.