I See No Difference

Think you could take a 10x10 inch cock? Asking for a friend 👀

like is it a cube or am i misunderstanding

hihello how r u ?? :3

Shauna shipman whimpers in French into your ear when she's balls deep inside you.

That's it. That's the thought.

-🍭

you know what hell yeah 🍭 anon!! 🙂‍↕️ (nsfw content so mdni. also, again, i do not speak french!)

shauna’s face is buried in the crook of your neck. there’s sweat on her forehead, dark strands of hair clinging to it in damp lines, and her breath bursts from her lips in desperate pants.

she‘s clearly holding back, her hips rutting back and forth on every second breath in an attempt to make the moment last.

after eating you out, both to make sure you could take her and make up for the short time she would last once she’d fuck you properly, shauna now has you pinned to the mattress. your legs are open wide, giving her the room she needs to move between them, rolling her hips back and forth.

barely a few minutes in, and shauna’s grip on the english language has already vanished, reduced to breathless french phrases and muttered curses. “oh, mon dieu,” she groans as she bottoms out, drawing a moan from your lips in response to feeling her there.

her pillows and sheets are soft against your back, a stark contrast to the way she is currently holding you: hands on both of your legs, pushing your knees up against your chest to keep you open for her.

shauna’s breath hitches at a particularly good thrust that has you clenching for more around her length. “mhm, comme ça!”

“yeah?” you pant, hardly feeling any more coherent than shauna herself with how deep she’s fucking into you already. “do you like that?”

“oui- yes! m’sorry,” she slurs.

her teeth graze your collarbones, only the ghost of a touch that lacks its usual sharpness. you can’t deny that you love it when shauna gets like this, though: a babbling, mindless version only you get to see of her, too drunk on the sensation of your body to string together her words.

you run your hands through her hair when her hips piston forward slightly faster. the wetness between your legs squelches obscenely where shauna buries herself deeper and deeper inside your cunt, leaving your body no choice but to accommodate the stretch of her needs.

shauna pulls out once, moving her hips agonizingly slow to watch you part for her. she’s glistening wet under the light that comes falling through her curtains, coated in your arousal from root to tip. she groans at the sight, moaning a weak “putain,” before sinking back into you.

the sound of her skin slapping against yours grows louder the more shauna picks up the pace. “sorry,” she whimpers, her lack of control pathetic compared to her usual self. “j’ai besoin de toi…”

“it’s okay,” you manage, clinging to her now that she’s starting to fuck you harder. “it’s okay shauna, fuck me.”

and, oh, she does: with your short but desperate plead, the last of her restraints slip away and shauna readjusts above you, spreading your legs wider.

“god,” she groans, her nails scratching over your sides. “t'es trop belle…”

you know by the way she’s moving more and more erratically that shauna won’t last long. it’s not that you really want her to; the sight of her cumming is one that you can hardly ever deprive yourself of. besides, it’s not like not getting anything from this yourself: each time shauna rocks forward, she strokes up against your g-spot, reaching much deeper than her fingers ever did.

“shauna, please-“

she nods her head, her breath warming your throat in short puffs where she’s keeping her face hidden. her whole attic room smells of sex at this rate, and you’re forever grateful mrs. shipman has left earlier, or else she would definitely hear shauna’s bed slamming into the wall.

“t’es proche?“ she grunts. “fuck- i mean- are you close?”

if your moans weren’t enough of an indicator yet, you nod and let your hand fall between your thighs, rubbing your clit in sync with shauna’s thrusts.

“bonne fille,” she praises before ducking back against you, whimpering some more incoherent words until the feeling of your walls fluttering around her sends shauna over the edge.

I too, have been rewatching the show And I gotta say, Jenna CARRIED that show on her back I'm not even kidding. Like, without her, I probably would've lost interest And I absolutely loved the Addams family as a kid, always wanted to be Wednesday So props to Jenna for being such a goddess

Rewatching Wenclair- I mean Wednesday, it’s so fucking impossible to deny that there isn’t SO MUCH chemistry and tension between Wednesday and Enid.

Like I genuinely don’t get how people can be like “wenclair shippers need to calm down” when these two were practically confessing their love for each other in every damn scene they talked to each other in. That’s not even mentioning the constant visual imagery, literally shots chosen specifically to show off their relationship to each other, and the fact that their individual character arcs literally mirror each other. Even down to the soundtracks, Enid is literally choreographed into being Wednesday’s foil.

And then there’s practically the whole damn cast shipping them together, like it’s so damn obvious, you’re being willfully obtuse and ignorant by trying to deny them. Wednesday certainly has more chemistry with her than she does with the whole love triangle bs. LITERALLY THE TWO LOVE INTERESTS AREN’T EVEN CLOSE TO HAVING THE LEVEL OF CHEMISTRY WITH WEDNESDAY THAT ENID HAS.

Like it boggles my mind, legitimately.

---

This is actually beautiful Tell me your secrets

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Description: In the aftermath of Mr. Miller's heartrending rejection, A newcomer has arrived in rural Tennessee, bringing a touch of indulgence that resonates all the way to Cairo.

Chapter Four

You gently closed the book you were reading, rolling over in Cairo's bed to give her your full attention. "Yeah?" you answered, curious about what she had to say.

"Would you like to go to the Fall Ball together?" Cairo asked, her voice soft yet direct.

Part of you had been waiting for her to ask, but the way she phrased it caught you off guard. It sounded more like a friendly invitation than the romantic proposition you had imagined. Nevertheless, you knew deep down that you'd rather go with her than with Winnie, regardless of how she asked.

"Sure," you replied with a smile, masking your slight disappointment. "You never told me why you decided to attend, but I think I know now," you added, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of playful curiosity.

"Well, I just thought it might be nice to get back out there or something," Cairo deflected, her words lacking conviction. You nodded quietly, feeling a pang of disappointment at her response. Deep down, you sensed she was hiding something, but you couldn't quite decipher if it was because she didn't want Winnie to ask you instead or if there was a different reason altogether.

"I'm gonna head to bed," you announced simply, eager to distance yourself from the uneasy exchange. Cairo's frustration with your inscrutability was evident; she despised your ability to remain unreadable, leaving her to wonder about your thoughts and whether you were onto her crush.

"It's early," Cairo protested as you made to leave. You merely shrugged, leaving the conversation hanging in the air as you retreated to your own thoughts.

"Fuck," Cairo whispered to herself as she closed her door, already missing your presence and the warmth you brought to her bed. Moving to her bedside dresser, she lifted the small slab where she kept her cigarettes and other personal items, including a piece of clothing you had left behind—a tank top she had secretly claimed for herself. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply, reveling in your lingering scent with a soft sigh.

Lost in her thoughts, Cairo began to imagine what it would be like if you were with her right now, kissing her passionately and perhaps even more. But as she indulged in these fantasies, a wave of self-loathing washed over her. She realized just how infatuated she was with you, and she despised herself for it. Maybe, she thought bitterly, she should just let Winnie have you, sparing herself the torment of unrequited feelings.

She folded the tank top with care, placing it back under the slab before shutting the drawer with a sigh. Standing there for a moment, Cairo wrestled with conflicting thoughts before ultimately making a decision she knew she would berate herself for later.

With a resigned sigh, she crossed the hall to your room, her heart pounding with nervous anticipation. Gently knocking on your door, she waited for your response, feeling a surge of relief when you answered.

"Yeah?" you responded, still awake but clearly attempting to drift off to sleep.

Cairo pushed the door open slowly, her hand fidgeting nervously behind her back. "I was thinking... we could have a little Saturday night sleepover, if that's okay. It's fine if you decline," she said softly, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability amidst her attempt at nonchalance.

You sat up on the bed, peering at Cairo over your legs with a faint smile playing on your lips. "Come here," you beckoned softly, and Cairo felt her stomach somersault as she obediently crawled onto the bed towards you.

"Now you're sleeping over," you declared with a warm smile, and Cairo couldn't help but mirror your expression. In that moment, bathed in the soft glow of the room, she realized just how deeply she cared for you. But the realization sent a jolt of panic through her, and she quickly averted her gaze, unable to confront the overwhelming truth.

Cairo was a river of denial, her heart torn between the longing for your affection and the fear of acknowledging her feelings for you. But as she settled into the warmth of your embrace, she couldn't help but wonder if denying her love for you was simply an exercise in futility.

"So, what are you wearing to the ball?" Cairo asked, trying to distract herself from the tumult of emotions swirling within her.

"My mother's dress. It's the only dress I own. Wanna see it?" you offered, your voice tinged with a hint of excitement.

"I think I'd rather see you in it on the day of," Cairo replied quickly, her heart racing at the mere thought of seeing you in that dress now. She knew that if she saw you in it, she might just lose control over her feelings.

"Fair enough," you conceded with a smile. "What about you? What are you wearing to the ball?" you asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Possibly a pantsuit. Wanted to be a little more modest," Cairo answered, her tone tinged with a hint of self-consciousness.

"A suit... you'd look..." you trailed off, your mind conjuring an image of Cairo in a sleek pantsuit, but you hesitated to articulate your thoughts.

"Look like what?" Cairo pressed, her curiosity piqued by your unfinished statement.

"I don't know yet," you replied evasively, masking the truth of what you truly thought. In reality, you knew exactly how stunning Cairo would look in a suit, but you weren't willing to admit it, not when Cairo had maintained a certain distance from you. This reluctance to acknowledge your feelings irritated Cairo, evident in the subtle tension that hung between you.

"You do know you just won't tell me," Cairo blurted out, her frustration evident in her tone as she took the first step in vulnerability, allowing herself to be emotionally upset.

"What's it to you? You already know everything anyhow," you replied casually, shrugging off her accusation.

"You can't just start a sentence and then leave everything hanging," Cairo insisted, her gaze piercing into you with intensity.

"I can. Many great writers do it... What do you want me to say, Cairo? I don't like arguing with someone I'm living with," you responded, attempting to diffuse the tension with a touch of humor, though the underlying unease remained palpable between you.

Cairo moved closer to you, her breath mingling with yours as your noses nearly touched. "I want you to tell me what you were going to say," she demanded, her eyes locked with yours, radiating determination.

Feeling the pressure intensify, you held your ground, unwilling to concede. As Cairo's proximity enveloped you, you sensed the electric tension between you. But you couldn't let her win.

Leaning in slightly, you ghosted her lips, teasingly close. Then, with a sudden motion, you placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her away. Cairo's expression shifted to one of embarrassment, her mind fogged up from the closeness of your lips. For a moment, she nearly forgot the whole ordeal.

"I think I'd rather tell you on the day of," you said with a smirk, mocking her earlier refusal to reveal her plans. The playful jab served to diffuse the tension, albeit leaving Cairo flustered.

Your phone suddenly rang, interrupting the charged atmosphere between you and Cairo. As you answered the call, Cairo watched you closely, her thoughts swirling with unease. Why couldn't Winnie just leave you alone?

As you excused yourself to take the call in the bathroom, Cairo's suspicions only grew stronger. The tension in the air was palpable, and she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Was there something more between you and Winnie? Or was it simply Cairo's own insecurities taking hold?

As you answered the phone, you were met with unexpected sounds of moans and whimpers. "Hello? Winnie?" you said, your confusion evident in your voice.

"Oh, Y/n... Please, I need you. God, I just want you. I don't understand why you won't go to that ball with me," Winnie's voice came through, filled with desperation and longing. The implications of her words left you stunned, and you could only imagine what she might be doing on the other end of the line.

Feeling a surge of discomfort and unease, you struggled to respond, unsure of how to navigate the situation. The tension in the air thickened, and you couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to become even more complicated.

You decided not to engage with Winnie, especially given the strange circumstances of her call. As you emerged from the bathroom and settled back onto your bed next to Cairo, she couldn't help but notice your demeanor.

"What'd she want?" Cairo inquired, her gaze fixed on you, searching for any hint of what transpired during the call.

"She was begging me to go to the ball thing with her or something," you replied with a sigh, casually reaching for your water bottle on the nightstand.

"Oh yeah, she can be stubborn... What'd you say to her?" Cairo asked, her curiosity evident as she observed your body language closely.

"I just hung up," you replied nonchalantly, leaving out the finer details. Cairo sensed there was more to the story, but she didn't press further. While she harbored her own dislike for Winnie, seeing you hang up on her was a small victory. Still, she couldn't shake the nagging desire to understand the full extent of what had transpired.

Cairo hummed softly as you both settled under the covers, the quiet of the room embracing you. She was pleasantly surprised when you moved closer, a tender gesture that caught her off guard.

Playing with a lock of her hair, you recited, "Mirror of the night, your eyes green swords inside my flesh, waves between our hands."

"Mirror of the night?" Cairo echoed, leaning into your touch.

"It's from a poem I read today," you explained, your voice soft as you continued to caress her hair.

"I love it," Cairo responded with a soft smile, her eyes meeting yours with affection.

You smiled back, the connection between you palpable in the gentle intimacy of the moment. "I shall shut my eyes for slumber," you yawned, adding a whimsical touch with an English accent that elicited a chuckle from Cairo. As you both drifted off to sleep, Cairo felt grateful for the closeness you shared, even in the simplest of moments.

Oh so close but yet so far.

if you're not obsessed with a fucked up female character i hope that changes for you soon. becoming obsessed with a genuinely deranged fictional woman will change your life.

she’s a poor little meow meow. she was born in a wet cardboard box all alone. she’s suffered more than jesus. she’s misunderstood. she’s a silly guy. she experienced the horrors. she did all those crimes. she has done nothing wrong. she deserves to kill. she’s the most interesting girl in the world. i didn’t say a name, but she popped into your head, didn’t she?

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

GLASSES???

JENNA CLARK KENT ORTEGA

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Me when someone says Xavier and Wednesday had chemistry