#It's supposed to represent the fact that he is OVER 18 AT THAT POINT

[blacksheep-alien]

The royal couple on their wedding day

[vickyvicarious]

So, I noticed something kind of interesting today. Seward's diary never mentions Renfield by name. And that's not totally out of the ordinary for him - I went back and looked, and there are several other times so far that he doesn't name him (18 June, and 1, 8, and 19 July). But in each of those entries, Seward is entirely focused on figuring out Renfield; nothing else is discussed at all. Not naming him is simply because each entry is continuing the same thought/preoccupation. And in fact, on both the 8th and 19th, he calls Renfield "my friend" - the lack of name is not due to emotional distance.

But today it felt more like that. We haven't heard from Jack's diary since the 24th of August, when Renfield escaped on his own terms briefly rather than taking the intentional opportunity given to him. That whole "plan" was a huge unprofessional mess on Seward's part, and I wonder if he realized that at least a little. He went quiet for a good few days, until he heard from Arthur, and then in his treatment of Lucy we see him being a much better doctor and friend than he's ever been to Renfield. Where he's drugging Renfield to sleep so he can go through his journal, with Lucy he is very respectful and makes sure he has consent to share medical information. And so on. Obviously he thinks of Lucy and Renfield in very different ways and has different standards for what is acceptable to do - or even considered as an option.

But I still find it interesting that when we see him writing about Renfield again, this first entry feels a lot more removed than before. It feels like Seward is trying to be more professional and less emotionally involved. He names Renfield at the start by his supposed disorder ("Zoöphagous patient") and at other points refers to him again by role ("my patient") or what he represents ("a wonderfully interesting study"). But he never calls him by name or by any more affectionate nickname such as 'my friend'. He also notes his madness multiple times, musing about madmen and lunatics and wishing he could understand his mind.

A part of me wonders if there is a slight element of Seward recognizing just how out of control his own behavior was getting, and trying to rein it in. It would make sense for him to be doing so either after the escape plan went wrong (and Renfield was furious with him in particular, and he ended his entry saying he'd never forget that night) or after the company of people like Lucy and Van Helsing helps to sort of forcibly reconnect to friends who keep him more humane/sane himself. As well a patient he deeply cares for and wants to treat respectfully (Lucy) potentially making him feel a bit off-balance in how he is treating his 'other' favorite patient (Renfield).

I do have to point out how all of this more distant wording is just dehumanizing Renfield in another way, of course. And it doesn't seem like much about Seward's actual behavior has changed - he still folds pretty easily in the face of Renfield's "cringing" supplication/flattery, and thinks he is indulging him in order to better understand. He still is obviously fascinated by him and takes a strong personal interest in his care. But it feels a little bit like the way he talks about it is at least trying to be more distant.

...Though maybe that's partially just his melancholy. Seward talks multiple times today about not understanding/wishing he could understand Renfield. And for the most part, it reads as more frustrated/downtrodden than previous times. He doesn't have much speculation to offer until the very end of his entry. Is it possible that he is feeling a bit upset about not being able to figure out Lucy's illness, and it's spilling over?

And there's of course the really eloquent line in the middle of this entry describing how he feels returning to "all the grim sternness of my own cold stone building, with its wealth of breathing misery, and my own desolate heart to endure it all." That makes it sound a lot like his time with Lucy and Van Helsing (and talking to Arthur) was really good for him. He needed this friendly socializing, and even if the circumstances weren't ideal, he got to spend time with people who genuinely care for him. Who aren't just using him when they ask for things, who are just as eager to help him, who like him for who he is and have fun being with him. And then he goes back to the asylum.

He doesn't truly like it here. It's not good for him, he's at his worst when he's isolated here. And yet I wonder if, upon his return today, knowing Van Helsing has left and that he's returning (at least mostly) to his customary isolation, he feels much more aware of that than ever. In the past, he's thrown himself willingly if not eagerly into his work, but even the fascination he still feels doesn't seem to boost his mood today. I think he's feeling lonely.

I also think he's feeling a little bit of resigned "this is where I belong" and his more distant language reflects that. It's not just Renfield, after all. It's Lucy, too - he's been calling her by first name in his letters to Arthur, but today in his private diary he calls her "Miss Westenra". And it's not just because he's talking out loud, because he's called her "Lucy" in his diary before. So the more formal address today seems to fall in with the pattern happening with Renfield too. He feels alone, he feels lonely, and so his wording displays less connection to others.

[notmine213]

Mika from Seduce Me the otome

Maybe unpopular opinion but I quite like Mika. While Mika is supposed to yes, represent the player, she has a backstory as well that either get's over looked or invalidated. So here is why Mika will always be one of my favorite MCs

SPOILERS

She is super relatable. Micheala Laws could've easily made a character that was all "OmG tHeRe ArE hOt SeX dEmOnS iN mY hOuSe AHhhH" that didn't care about the fact she was being thrown into this world, as long as there were some hot men.

That being said, she isn't an unbelievable amount of badass either. She didn't confront Malix until after knowing he couldn't use magic; you can see her multiple times not be sure if she is making the right choice and allow herself to receive help from whichever incubi you romance.

I also never see anyone discuss the magnitude of shit she was going through. She lost her grandfather who was basically the only real parental figure who she looked up to and wanted to be like, her father treated her as one would treat a trophy while her mother was a push over constantly excusing him because "You know how your father is." Sure, they fed her and put a roof over her head, but at the same time he gave her no room to be a person.

She had been isolated from her grandfather because of some unexplained tension between him and her father, leaving her without her only other real emotional support, which is super detrimental. (other then Suzu and Naomi but that's a rant for another day)

Something I'd also like to point out is that I'm aware she is privileged, but that doesn't take away 18 years of anxiety that constantly having to be a perfect picture of a CEO will do to you.

AND that isn't even counting the amount of shit that happened when she met the boys. (NO HATE TO THE INUBAES)

My point being is that I think Mika as a character is very complex without having to much of an extreme background. I personally think she was a teenage girl who was refused the ability to act her age. (I mean, who forces the 18 year old you just kicked out to throw a house party TWO DAYS after losing someone, in THEIR HOUSE. I just think she deserves more love.

Thats all, thank you for reading my ted talk.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

https://www.tumblr.com/yourtoradorasextendedwarranty/754963612882337792/antis-twitter-freaks-and-tumblr-crazies-seem-to

This is what you spend your time on? This? Defending your lolis? This is what you consider something worth spending valuable time on this earth for? Holy fuck, the human race is just cooked isn’t it. You people are actually serious about this shit.

It isn't "Defending Lolis". It's making a distinction between CP, and Loli which are not the same. NOT EVEN REMOTELY the same. As well as the people that see short women IRL, and deem them "Child Coded" because they are short, with smaller bodies/features and as such have to deal with people saying their partners are "Pedo" or "Pedo adjacent" or some bullshit like that.

No matter what you say Loli is in modern day is representative of, it's fiction. And no matter who fights me on this I don't care. And people have. Loli is a body type in modern day. People will say that's cope but it's not cope. Because Loli doesn't mean, "Child" or "literal child". And even though it's base word come from "Lolita" which I'm aware was also the name of a French film about a girl that was a minor, today that word doesn't have the same connotation. Lolita fashion for instance does not mean, "Minor girl fashion". And even the movie title itself didn't mean, "Minor Girl". It was just a movie name.

My point was never that "Loli good". I never said that. My POINT was that loli in modern day is a term to represent anime characters. Characters that are NOT real. Characters that are humanoid but not exactly human looking. I mean you have 14 y/o characters that look 20 and 50 y/o characters that might could look 18. But my supposed "Defense" of Loli is just saying it's literally just art of small bodied characters. If you ask me if I like it personally? No. I don't care about it. My issue is people that compare it to CP when it's not. And THEN translate that sentiment to real life to point at real women whose bodies would be considered "loli" if they were anime characters, and then told that they are not allowed to date tall men because their boobs are too small and they are too short.

And for the record. I was assaulted as a kid. I'd have preferred if he had been into actual child shota. Because MAYBE (though unlikely) I would not have been harmed. Anime is fiction. Dwarfs are fiction. Changelings are fiction. Other fantasy races that are short or small are fiction. And modern day norms according to twitter freaks are, "If I deem it looks like a kid it IS a literal child."

Except that ignores one very specific point. Which is Pedophiles. If Pedophiles were just into people that LOOKED like they could be "kids" then they could just date midgets or women with development disorders. Except for the fact that Pedos themselves are not in it for the body. They are in it for the power over another person and the innocence those kids have. Kids are easy to manipulate and they have an ignorance to them that makes them easy to control.

Fictional content does not give most of these people the thrill they seek. And if you listen to interviews with some of them in therapy sessions you will hear that.

My overarching point being. Real women are not fictional. Which was the broader point of my ENTIRE post. And that fiction and reality are NOT the same. So if that's "Defending" loli, whatever I don't care. Because you know what. Even IF Loli was about age and not body type (again it's not an age) at least it's not real people being hurt (and this is ignoring the difference between loli characters and lolicon). And anime characters again only look mostly human, but distinctly not human enough to qualify as realistic.

[luci-j]

Character Headcannons/Breakdown - Rook Raccoon

Okay, I'll be the first to admit this gets a little sad in some parts. I was going through it when I wrote this, what can I say?

* Her first name is supposed to invoke the chess piece. It's because she's basically used like little more than a game piece by Pyko and Gideon.

* Her last name is an homage to my dad's last name. He died unexpectedly while I was writing "Stand By Me", so I made her last name sound like his. Her taking Rocket’s last name at the end was a quiet way of me saying goodbye to him.

* She represents "found family" gone toxic. Each of the stories I do in this series is about love. "Flowers" is romantic love. "Star-Man" is the love that comes with loss. "Stand By Me" is about love and family. The Guardians are one of the best examples of found family that's done well in MCU, so I wanted to show what the inverse of that was.

* The school she goes to, Gideon university, is based off predatory colleges that were rampant during my college years. I had a friend over 150k in debt to a game design school with these practices.

* She's a sharklike alien because I really like sharks, you guys. Also I love Guillermo del Toro films, like most self-respecting weirdos and oddballs, and I think "The Shape of Water" is one of the finest love stories I've ever seen.... The more I examine my interests the less shocked I am that I ended up where I did.

* She's aro ace! The more I realized "oh. This isn't a one-off fanfic, this is going to be a personality trait of mine now" the more I wanted to be mindful of different representations. I also have a very longtime friend who is aro ace, and she keeps me really in touch with the fact there isn't a lot of rep out there. So it's a love letter to her as well.

* She's a professional V-tuber who goes under the name "Catfish".

* She's more of the software side of tech, whereas Rocket seems to favor hardware. I figured this would differentiate her skillset just enough that she'd be able to stand out as a unique character without too much overlapping skillsets from existing characters. This is something I try to be mindful of as well when creating OCs.

* Groot is one of her best friends and they do a lot of gaming together.

* Rocket DMs a game with them and a few of the other Guardians in it.

* She loves going all-in for holidays because her parents never really did.

* Her culture as a whole is very cold and very "get it yourself" from a VERY young age. Eggs take five years total to hatch and if the hatchlings struggle to get out of the egg, it's considered a sign that they aren't strong enough to survive in the outside world.

* There's a time where this would have been very relevant on their world, but modern progress has made this point moot. The harsh conditions of Icathia no longer exist, but the world has been slow to change from its harhness. Needing to rely on others is still seen as a moral failing.

* A lot of this culture comes from me remembering stories about friends getting kicked out at eighteen and being very, very angry that I was also eighteen at the time and couldn't do much to help them. Rook was my little way of being like "I'm sorry I couldn't do more to protect you. I was a kid too." I also saw a "fun craft idea" that was a "countdown" to when a kid turned 18 and would get kicked out of the house and if that didn't give me the BIGGEST anxiety attack to look at.

* Meti's first time going to jail was for Rook. He and Rocket were both arrested for brawling with her biological parents. <3

* Mara, her daughter, struggled to break out of her egg. Rook didn't think twice about helping her break out of it. She was going to break the cycle she came from

* It took her a LONG time to realize her parents and family loved her unconditionally. When she became a mother, it helped things really click for her

* She has Caldon's equivalent of a Masters in software engineering.

* Some of her favorite Earth music are things like City Pop and Future Funk. Also a huge Vocaloid fan

* Loves the beach and the water. If she isn't working she can be found hanging out by one of the ponds at the nature preserve

* She still struggles with her anxiety a LOT, but she's working towards getting better. She still didn't sleep for three days when Mara started school.

* She loves hanging out with Skye and helping her with some of her creative pursuits. This can include things like wiring LED lighting for costumes Skye makes.

* She lives in the apartment next door to Rocket and Meti. She makes enough for her own place, but she just loves being close to her family

* She's still puzzled/fascinated by mammals as a whole.

* She's always up for board game night

[mortaljortlebortles]

Douglas is cancelled

I loved this show but the very end the hotel room her interview-it didn't give me what I wanted.

I mean obviously Madiline f-ed up with a few things- she shouldn't have been tactile when trying to find out the truth- nor used that to manipulate him- he was uncomfortable so she should have stopped.

I get it is revenge and like I get it but i kinda wished she had found another way.

Also in the final piece of hotel scene before the hay festival, I wish that taking a photo of Toby hadn't been presented as the best option she had. I respect her choice - in terms of she didn't know what else to do but I do think it feeds into the narrative that a strong woman would have found a way to escape and that blackmailint some with leaking nudes is a tactic that is safe or the best option - she could also be convicted ( she shouldn't be but she could be)

Also it seemed to shame people who would be afraid or desperate for the job enough to sleep with him- sleeping with a superior for something if you aren't scared is morally neuteral(for you) I would reckon- so long as you are single. I don't judge. I judge the boss though it is horrible.

If she was scared for her future career anywhere- and how Toby could manipulate her and so stayed and he had pressured her into s-x that is s/a no two ways about it.

if she had stayed and not done anything with him he would still be a horrible man who sexually harassed her and an absolute arsehole.

And that is why I am posting so that if anybody out there saw this and thought Douglas was right when he said "phone the police- your regretting your choice then phone your mum or your best friend"

He very much isn't Madaline knows that, Stephen Moffat knows that .don't beat your self up, okay.

and then the whole it is a win for me not for women thing is fair if that is the way you feel(being proud of yourself and not wanting to think your achievement is only impressive because you are a woman prehaps.

It also may not be a problem she won for her and it doesn't stop anything involving toby - she is afraid, you might be afriad, not everybody has the ability and stabilty and safety net to stand up to such things. That doesn't mean she is horrible

I don't like however the fact she is naive enough to not see women are a group of people who are mistreated(because we are women) and our sucess does mean something for others as does our losses( when a woman is hurt it makes women afraid). I do wish Moffat would have made it more just violence does happen to women because they are women for five sesonds- Mad's opinions being the closest to right just means somepeople I reckon will twist it so that they can victim blame women for being too soft or weak or say bad things only happen to women who aren't strong enough or that women need to deal with these things themselves rather than joining together. I mean it is obvious violence and mistreatment of women from men is a problem but I have met so many men who don't believe these things happen often or at all and I am borded of educating men ages 18 to 30 at the age of 19 because subtlty and nuance goes over my guy Luke's head.

it is very complex and cool- obviously doesn't represent the young or activists or people with anxiety/autism very well and that sucks but it is great tv - very dramatic and well filmed, with great acting and lots of layers or good and bad and sad in all of the characters. I mean one just calm nice unbullied person would have been great but i suppose Kirsty Wark is a nice person so her 2 minute appearance might count.

I loved the script and it is very worth a watch and it isn't trying to be so problematic for me, or you potentially, it's just Madalyn is a total Talitha at points and some people see only in black and white.

So all the we should all aim for human rights stuff though true lacks a framework to hang on that doesn't result in a mixed message possibly.

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

Person clogging the tags: "I need more people to see this ..."

The This: "I'm WORRIED about Hazbin Hotel!"

Me: *laughs in 'I Survived The Star vs. The Forces of Evil Fandom' and shames the self admitted "click baity" commentator for being yet another grown adult male bullshit artist with a youtube partner checkmark who loves mixing their viviziepop commentary with clips of unrelated kids shows and Marvel and comparing Hazbin to Steven Universe, while he whines about the voice actors changing and Millie, because I know the REAL problem with this fandom is that much like Star vs. , it's essentially already been bronified and taken over by gamer incels who talk about cartoons too much and to the point where they're the only ones talking about Medrano's work, aside from like, one actually queer male Disney Adult who's honestly equally boring to listen to and distractingly just looks like Gay!Rob Walker, so like, any other video trying to talk about the *actual external issues* this fandom is facing, like the minors invading what is supposed to be ideally an adult space, harassment, death threats, and sui bait and bullying, gets boggled down by the fact that the majority of these videos that try to broach these subjects are being made by these disconcertingly right leaning creepy men who use all these random shooting games modded to have Hazbin and Helluva characters killing each other as a backdrop to these videos at worst, and at best they have a bunch of Disney Cars and Marvel clips at the beginning of their video while they sit there, surrounded by a bunch of Star Wars or some shit, and maybe some of us are just Adult Queer Femmes, trying to make Adult Spaces for ourselves outside what is ultimately a failed attempt at having what was supposed to be an "Adult Fandom"... But we still want to share our joys about Hazbin and Helluva with our adult queer/femme friends outside the fandom but we can't do that because any space to share any information about Hazbin and Helluva as projects or explain the controversy surrounding them, are just overrun with a bunch of chuddy click bait geeks who don't know what they're talking about and don't even know well enough not to use the dollar sign when they' try to trash Kesha for being a supposedly shitty voice actress because they have no personality outside of "critiquing' children's cartoons on their shitty YouTube channels and blogs and mixing all that in with Medrano's work like it's the same, to the point where some of you can't even handle swearing or being called pet names like "honey" even when you're a girl and it's by another girl, and so maybe some other adult queer femmes are just embarrassed to be around y'all and are just here for Medrano's art that y'all steal for your shitty blogs and monetized youtube channels instead of just making or using your own every time some new "content" comes out, and maybe some of us don't wanna be sharing your shitty "vivziepop drama explained" youtube videos with your shitty gamer shooter backdrop around in an 18+ adult space full of hot queer people who actually fuck, because maybe some of us are embarrassed about your cringe arses being the loudest voices "representing" the fandom and the environment you've created and vibe you've created in it, and for anyone on the outside looking in, for that matter, and maybe the problem isn't actually Medrano, but the "fandom" that thrives and makes money and gets notes off of feeding off of her "dramas" and nothing else, and maybe, this is the only REAL PROBLEM we have here that just wouldn't exist if we had more ADULT Queer and Femme people honestly covering Medrano's history and her work, instead of, whatever the fuck it is we have now... And maybe some of you need a motherfucking woman to tell you that.*

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

So fun fact about my grandpa's funeral /s

6 days before the fact, we were informed that we could have a slideshow playing during the funeral. My grandma was interested in that, so we got to work.

It was recommended that we include about 50 photos. Definitely no more, but everyone told me it was nightmarish whenever there weren't enough photos of the deceased and the few available played on repeat. The only issue was... being that my grandma is 94 years old, the large majority of the photos we had were printed.

We didn't have a scanner. We didn't have time to get them scanned somewhere (where?). So whenever I had time to sit in front of the computer during those ~6 days, my mission was to:

take a photo of each photo with my phone

personally. i was the only one whose phone had a good enough camera, and i was the only one with enough common sense to use good enough lighting every time.

add them to a google drive

edit the horrors caused by the fact that those were photos of photos from my phone

The computer? A 9 years-old laptop belonging to my brother that you could hear screaming from the next room. I got started by Googling "some guy recreated photoshop online tumblr" and finding out that one program/site is called Photopea.

Each action took a minimum of one minute to load. Some of the photos were very difficult to salvage (aka the few photos that were taken by someone other by me. No please go ahead take your photo in the darkest room in the house. I don't mind.) but I still wound up doing a very clean job, and some of the photos, you couldn't tell were... a photo of a glossy photo with a smartphone.

The only person who sent us digitalised photos was my cousin, and this caused her to be way over-represented in the slideshow.

After taking these notes:

...I had two of them disappear under mysterious circumstances. You're not even the favourite grandchild.

As a note, I tried to get my brother, who was still at home and is supposed to be great at Photoshopping, to edit some of the photos. He half-assed it, didn't understand the assignment, and I wound up having to do it again anyway.

I worked hard, and I guess it was somehow expected of me, because no one but my mom seemed to really acknowledge the hard and specific work I was given.

One last fun fact before I go: I was the last person to see my grandpa alive. On the day we learned he might die, after spending hours by his side in the hospital, my grandma started feeling unwell. When we brought her downstairs where the A/C was on, I left some stuff in the room, to make sure we couldn't possibly leave without coming back to say goodbye. My grandma felt uncomfortable coming back, when at this point he was in a coma. I went back upstairs alone, and I was the last person to tell him goodbye.

I sort of knew it might turn out to be the case. That's why I tried to speak loudly and slowly, on the off-chance he could still hear me. Still, this lives with me. I'm really not that special, I wasn't that impactful in my grandpa's life, but in his last moments I was the only one who managed to communicate with him, who took care to understand his difficult speech, who spoke back in a comprehensible voice. As it turned out, I was the very last person to speak to him at all.

During the ceremony, I decided against walking up to his coffin to traditionally "say goodbye" before the incineration. I already had. My brother asked about it, but he was understanding of my decision. The slideshow was playing in the background: they used a surprisingly good screen, and everyone thought the photos looked great. It wound up playing a few times in a row. I knew I was in three photos, though one is a group photo where I'm barely visible, so closer to two; one where I was a kid, and one where I was probably 18. The thought played and replayed in my mind that it might fuck me up if when they push the coffin out of the room, the last photo on-screen as he leaves the room is one with me.

...You probably get why I'm even mentioning this. Somehow, that it was the photo where I was already an adult made it sting even more.

[takeonmetakemeon]

I saw an earlier version of this headline. By the time I was able to chew it over some wise person had changed it and removed the DEI slur.

It remains his first point in the column, an insult he considers to be undeniable.

I was impressed by the fact that someone could write those words and publish them without fear that their reputation would be ruined.

That reminded me of 2006 and the end of the Republican Party.

I was one of the people in 2006 who though that the Grand Old Party was finished. Or rather I was rooting for it to die. The financial irresponsibility, the war crimes, the death of privacy, the hypocrisy and false morality: all of it needed to end. Obviously it didn't. So now as I survey the American political landscape I have to discount my perceptions of its future. But I have begun to think I wasn't wrong.

It prompts me to remember 1994. What a political year that was. Its momentousness has been completely forgotten. We take it for a given that Republicans can win the House in any given election, but in my lifetime the opposite was true. I took it for a given that they couldn't.

The Democratic Party's stranglehold on the US House of Representatives from 1957-1995 was historic and yet is forgotten. In 1994, Democrats' life motto "all politics is local" had put a Democrat in the House Speaker's chair after every election for more than a decade before I was born. It was all I had ever known. It was all my older siblings had ever known. It seemed to be all anyone had ever known.

Naturally, not everyone was intimidated by their decades of control. I will never forget the co-worker at my college janitor job who told me that people get tired of parties and vote for one for a while and then the other. A few years later his words rang in my ears almost like prophecy. The idea that people tire of parties became a foundational part of my worldview, one that helps predict political outcomes in any nation.

In retrospect, the Republican takeover of the House looks expected. One of those inevitable things. The Contract With America is a historical footnote, not the key to creating a political transformation years before it had to happen.

If they happen to think about it at all, I suppose the Contract With America is in most people's minds a simple list of promises, an abbreviated version of a party platform, perhaps a piece of political propaganda. Seeing the UK's Reform Party borrow its language in its Contract With the People creates that impression.

It was not that. It was a list of ten proposals that had been poll-tested and polished. It was the agenda Americans wanted that Democrats would not pass or could not pass. It was the distillation of pent-up political desire. In the same year when Republicans took advantage of middle class fears of disruption to their personal health care to stoke the fires of change, Newt Gingrich sealed the deal by promising to not just stop Democrats but also accomplish all the impossible things the middle class had wished for.

Change was inevitable. But not that much. Not that fast.

Both parties seem to have forgotten the lessons of that year.

Twelve years later, Republicans had nothing left to offer. They had no proposals Americans wanted. Except tax cuts.

And they had nothing in 2008. Or 2010. Or 2012. Or 2014. Or 2016. Or any year since.

Except, of course, tax cuts.

Instead of reinventing themselves or tacking to the center, they have shot themselves in the foot over and over by elevating their fringe and boisterously, passionately handing seats to Democrats.

They have defied political gravity partly by marketing themselves as the party that will stop Democrats. It is half a strategy. They are a brake, not a steering wheel.

It has been 18 years since they exhausted their list of popular proposals and eagerly reached into their bin of unpopular wishes. In that time they have found nothing new. It has been 30 years since they could claim to represent the forgotten, but they keep doing it. In their minds, every year is 1994.

The Republican Party did not die a political death in 2006 as I had hoped, but it did die ideologically. Eighteen years of intellectual CPR have not revived it.

This is why I disagree with everyone that the nomination and election of Donald Trump changed the Republican Party. He did not change Republicans, he spoke for them, just as they told us he did. What he spoke was all the party had. That is precisely why he spoke it.

If he is defeated in November and any attempts to incite violence are thwarted, as I expect will happen, he will also have had little lasting effect on American history. All that he changed was the media's perception of who his party represented.

To hear pundits tell it, as long as Trump is at the helm, the party does not represent white men in suits. But as soon as he is gone, it will once more.

That is balderdash.

The conservative white men in suits lost, but they did not lose to Trump. They lost to their party. They are not the standard bearers they believed themselves to be. They are not the thought leaders they were certain they were. They are nothing more than ornaments. And that realization stings.

They soothe themselves by embracing along with self-deluded Democrats the claim that Republicans have become some kind of cult, as if Donald Trump was saying something previously unpopular with rank and file members of the party. As if the party's sudden rejection of their own ideas was a a rabbit pulled from populist magician's hat and not the fall of the curtain that had concealed the ideological wires creating the party's seeming defiance of gravity.

Now we are in 2024, when conservative white men in suits are calling Vice President Harris, a former Senator, former Attorney General, former District Attorney and former prosecutor a DEI candidate who did not earn her position.

One found it possible to call one of the most stirring political speeches since 2008 "weird," in a childish "I know you are but what am I" response to Democrats' most effective (and by the way accurate) attack line. While claiming without fear of losing his reputation that a speech with concrete policy proposals aimed squarely at *conservatives like him* was devoid of substance.

Because Republicans have nothing else. Because it isn't Trump who is intellectually bankrupt. Because if he could have won the Republican nomination with popular proposals that Democrats actually oppose he would have.

It is Donald Trump who is held captive by his party, not the other way around.

And unless that changes, one way or another, one year or another, they will all go down together.

And the long-postponed end of a party that even after years of improbable defeats cannot agree on anything except racism, misogyny and tax cuts will arrive.

Someone will have to offer popular proposals Democrats oppose. But it won't be the party that's doubled down on the racism and misogyny that's crippled them.

If conservative Californians can create an alternative party that can beat Democrats in the state where Republicans first became irrelevant, then they will be the state that leads the nation as they claim.

Change is in the air. It hasn't felt like this since 1994 when a party that had years before exhausted its popular proposals was finally thrown out.

Despite the statistical tie in the polls, I predict a Democratic trifecta in November. But we will see.

[elzdaizy]

I Need U More Than Life 

Eddie Munson

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, drug use (weed), knife play, choking. 

Masterlist

Recommended song to listen to whilst reading is I Want You by Kings Of Leon

Blurb: You and Eddie have been fuck buddies for a few months now and when the events of the upside down and vecna take place, it makes you realise how much you actually like him. This is set in a universe where Eddie survives. 

-

“You like him.” Steve suddenly speaks up, carefully inhaling some smoke before he looks at you. 

His words surprise you and you furrow your eyebrows, not understanding what he’s talking about. Your brain is almost a bit slow now, and you’re really glad this was working after the events of hell that just occurred from Vecna. 

“What?” You ask, smoothing your hands up and down your bare thighs. The cotton shorts you were wearing exposed most of them and you could see the many scars that graced your body from the war you’d just been in. 

You actually didn’t mind your scars. They told the story of how brave you’d been, representing your strength. 

“Eddie. You like him.” Steve smiles at you, his eyes were a bit intimidating with the dim light in his living room making them appear that way. 

You look away from him, poking your finger nails into your skin on your legs. You really liked that you could relax now, wearing comfy clothes and smoking weed to calm the remaining nerves. 

“Eddie is stubborn,” You speak up after a few seconds and furrow your eyebrows, reaching to grab the joint Steve was handing to you for another hit. “He’s arrogant, annoying, hard to handle..” 

You look up to meet his eyes and he is already smiling at you. 

“You didn’t deny it.” Steve points out. “I know you two have been fucking, I can see the hickeys all over your chest, and I also know that doesn’t make you two in love, but anyone can see that you like each other. He trusts you and that says a lot.”  

You choke on the smoke and cough several times, completely forgetting the fact you were wearing a tank top. 

You didn’t know Eddie had told Steve about you two having sex, so this caught you off guard a little. 

You started sleeping with Eddie about two months ago. Strictly just a benefits situation because you were both drunk one night at the Hideout and ended up back at Eddie’s trailer. You were in his original year at school, the year he was supposed to graduate the first time around. 

Throughout high school, you were one of the mean girls, unfortunately. Not a bully, but you wouldn’t have been caught dead associating yourself with Eddie and his friends. In fact, throughout high school Eddie used to purposefully get under your skin, teasing you and your cheerleader friends about how stuck up you were. He was right, but it annoyed you and you were surprised when you slept with him that night, two years after you’d graduated and hadn’t seen Eddie in almost a year. 

You returned to Hawkins after backpacking around the world for eighteen months and when you got back all of your friends had moved away to college and you were stuck working in the family video store with Steve and Robin, who you had become close with in the five months since you returned. 

You and Eddie used to have sex a shameful amount before Vecna appeared, three weeks ago, yet all the events make it feel like he hasn’t touched you in months. It’s been two weeks since you left the Upside Down after defeating the evil and god, you missed feeling Eddie close to you. You missed feeling him inside of you. 

You forgot how horny you get whenever you smoke, it was a dangerous combination that you had around Eddie. 

“I don’t like him.” You pout, hugging your knees against your chest. “I like the way he’s around me now. He’s funny sometimes too. I like his hands. I also like his eyes, and I like the way he touches me.” 

Shut up, you think to yourself. 

“Sure, that’s all you like.” Steve snorts, grabbing the joint back. “You know, I’ve been watching you two through all of this shit. The dynamic between you two is something natural, your behaviour is so similar that you don’t even realise. It’s funny.” 

“We’re not similar.” You huff. “I’m smarter.” 

“Why do I have a feeling you’re talking about me?” Eddie’s voice startles you and you didn’t even realise he walked down the stairs, you were so lost in this conversation with Steve that you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. 

Eddie’s wearing just some black sweatpants, his long hair was wet and falling down his shoulders. You notice he has changed his bandage on his own. You hate that it covers his tattoos, you miss tracing them with your fingers. And your tongue. 

The tattoos on his chest were exposed though... he was so fucking pretty. 

“I’ll take the way you’re staring at me as a yes.” Eddie says, and you quickly look up to his face, and he’s already smiling at you. “Your living room reeks of weed, did you take my stash, Steve?” 

“I helped you find your stash, you’re welcome.” Steve chuckles. “I’m off to bed, I’m tired. (y/n) is great company, though.” 

“When she wants to be.” Eddie bites his lower lip to hide a smile, stepping closer to you. 

Steve handed you the joint and you watched as he managed to stand up on his own, before Eddie could even rush to help him. He waved at you and then made his way to his bedroom, leaving you and Eddie alone in the living room. You noticed Steve often did that when Eddie was around, he’d just leave you two alone... and now Eddie was sitting down next to you, which made your brain focus solely on him. 

The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifts the moment Eddie grabs the joint from your hand, allowing your fingers to brush in the process. 

You get chills whenever he touches you, you could never get used to it. You watch as he wraps his lips around the joint, slowly inhaling smoke and making his jaw seem sharper in the process, and his side profile is so beautiful. 

His biceps flexed when he pulled the joint away from his mouth, but he didn’t exhale the smoke. He grabs the glass of water you had left on the floor and he tosses the small joint inside, this time focusing on you. 

Eddie reaches out his hand to grasp your jaw roughly, suddenly pulling you closer to him until he presses his lips against yours, surprising you a lot with the kiss. 

You don’t even think twice before kissing him back though, opening your mouth for him and feeling as he exhales the smoke into the kiss. You moan into his mouth, tangling your tongues together before you can control yourself, and your body moves on its own when you straddle his lap, threading your fingers in his hair and deepening the kiss. 

The taste of weed is mixed with his own taste, and this is working much better than any drug ever would. Your mind would go completely blank and it was only him... it felt like it’d been so long since you kissed him like this. 

His hands were quick to grope your ass as his fingers slip under your shorts, and he digs his nails into your soft flesh as he pulls your hips down. “Fuck,” you moan, lowering your hands to the nape of his neck so you can feel his skin... touching him as much as you possibly can, moving your fingers to his toned chest, and then his arms. 

You grab his biceps just when he gropes your ass more roughly, and you could feel his muscles flexing under your touch. He is so fucking hot. 

“Yeah, I think I really like it when you’re high.” He whispers against your lips, leaving soft kisses down to your jaw and keeping your body against his. “You haven’t kissed me like this in a while.” 

“I need more.” You groan, crashing your lips together again and you both inhale sharply the moment you start grinding your hips down on his. 

The kiss turns urgent and hungry, his ring-clad fingers were suddenly around your throat and you moan again, pulling his hair tightly so he could tilt his head back, and you left a trail of wet kisses down his neck as he tightened his grip. 

You sucked the sensitive spot near the base of his neck, and his raspy moan was enough to drive you crazy. You never needed something so bad in your whole life. He was the only thing you could feel and think about... and you really needed to feel something good again. 

“I think you’re very high.” He chuckles. “And Steve is just down the hall. Let’s go to the guest room, you seem like you could use some sleep.” 

“What if we don’t sleep?” You blurted out, wrapping your hand around his on your neck, slowly circling your hips over his very apparent erection now as he arched his eyebrows at you, hiding a smile. 

“I was being ironic, baby. Of course we aren’t going to sleep. Especially after you kissed me like that.” He gropes your ass again, very slowly this time. “I have missed that boldness, you can talk some more if you want.” 

“I want you,” You whisper, leaning closer to kiss him again, but he chokes you harder and pushes you away slightly, so his lips are less than an inch away from yours. 

You try moving forward again but he’s really strong and he was enjoying this, that smug smile on his tempting lips was proof enough. 

“What do you want me to do?” He whispers back. “Tell me... you’re so desperate. Did you miss me?” 

“Yes, I did.” You weren’t in control of your brain anymore, and this was exactly what you needed. “You make me feel so good... I just want to feel good.” 

Eddie’s eyes soften and he lets go of your neck, sliding his hand to your cheek. 

“Is that why you were smoking, baby?” He asks, but he wasn’t teasing anymore. 

You bite your bottom lip, pulling away slightly and keeping your eyes on his. You could feel the way he was caring about you lately, and it felt really strange to know that this was probably more than just a casual fuck now. 

“I just need to stop thinking a bit,” You admit. “Do you want to help me?” 

Eddie didn’t even give you time to prepare yourself before his lips found yours again, his fingers were in your hair and you were having a hard time keeping up with his sudden urgency. 

Fuck, you really missed him. 

The kiss was a mess of tongues and clashing teeth, and it reminded you a lot of the first time you were with him. There was this consuming desire and tension that you would never be able to comprehend, but you really loved it. 

“Bedroom. Right now.” You pull away to catch a breath, but his mouth was already lowering to the swell of your breasts, hungrily exploring your body and sucking bruises along the way. “Eddie, fuck!” 

He suddenly stood up from the couch, keeping his hands on your ass as he guided your legs to wrap around his hips when he literally carried you towards the stairs. But he put you down before he could start making his way up, and just then you remembered about his deep wound on his side. 

“Sorry, baby. We’ll have to do this the less fun way.” He places his hand over his abdomen as he takes a deep breath, and you hated that you’d forgotten about that detail. “I have to take it easy or else future you, tomorrow morning, will be mad at me, you know, when you’re not high anymore.” 

His words made you giggle as you rushed up the stairs, hearing as he followed you up. 

“Why am I starting to like it when you tease me? It’s mostly super annoying but now it’s starting to sound really sexy.” You admit once you’re both on the top of the stairs, and he grabs your hips to pull you closer. 

“Sexy? Keep the compliments coming.” He grins, planting a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s go, baby. Let me make you feel good.” 

You were pathetically desperate, quick to make your way into the bedroom and Eddie laughs, closing the door behind him after he walks in. You completely freeze when he suddenly decides to take off his pants. 

He has a casual look on his face when he throws them to the side, and you realise he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Your eyes instantly drop to his very hard erection, knowing you have this effect on him always makes you feel so powerful. You can see the pre-come starting to leak from his tip and the prominent veins along his thick length make your mouth water. 

“I think someone missed me a little too much.” His tone makes you look into his eyes again, and he was so fucking smug. 

Eddie pushes his hair off his face and then he makes his way to the bed, simply lying down with his arms folded behind his head, completely shameless. And then he starts to lower his hand down his chest... and even lower. 

He lets out a deep moan the moment he wraps his fingers around his erection, and you literally have to clench your thighs together. You step closer to the bed, watching him under the yellowish light of the lamps, making his eyes seem even darker. 

“Take off your clothes,” He says simply. “let me see you.” 

You instantly obey, your brain is lost in him and it was very apparent. You can’t look away from his eyes as you reach the hem of your tank top, quickly taking it off and discarding it on the floor. The desire coursing through your veins was making your head spin, and you reach out your hand to wrap your fingers around his length. 

“Let me touch you,” You whisper desperately, and he pulls his hand away and proceeds to fold his arms behind his head again as you stroke him, but he suddenly stops and freezes. 

“Why is there a knife under your pillow?” His wicked smile widens when he grabs the knife, and you keep touching him, feeling his dick twitch in your hand. 

“Makes me feel safer,” You answer honestly. 

“Do you want to play with it tonight?” His dimples indented on his cheeks when he starts to slide the blade down his body, going down his stomach and past the bandage he had to put over his deep wound. 

Fuck me, you thought. 

“Yes.” You nod. 

Eddie clicks his tongue, wrapping his hand around yours on his cock and keeping it still when he softly brushes the knife over his leaking tip, collecting some of his pre-come. 

His pupils are completely dilated when he sits up, keeping you on his lap. But his sudden movements make you pull your hand away from his dick and hold his shoulders for some support. 

“Do you want a taste too?” He asks, bringing the knife closer to your mouth. “You know what to say.” 

“Yes, please.” You whisper, opening your mouth just when he brushes the sharp end of the blade on your bottom lip, and he’s quick to press the knife on your tongue so you can taste his salty arousal. 

“That’s it, baby... you really need me tonight, don’t you?” He smiles, tracing the shape of your lips with the blade. 

“Please.” You actually beg... but you’re desperate and way too weak and tired to deny it. 

“Put your knees on either side of my head, you’re going to ride my face before you ride my cock.” He lays back down, still keeping the knife in his hand. 

You had dreamed about riding him several times and you were more than excited. 

Being on top of Eddie itself was something very fun because he was always in control. And you really liked that he was still in control, even underneath you. 

So you move slowly, until your knees are resting on either side of his head, and you’re careful not to pull his hair. You keep your hips lifted enough but his face was inches away from your soaking wet centre. 

You look down at him and he’s smiling again, this time bringing the knife closer to your thigh and grazing it upwards. 

“You’re dripping for me... I’ll be gentle tonight so you can manage to walk in the morning.” He chuckles under his breath, continuing to slide the knife until he reaches your trimmed public hair, making you shiver. “You trust me, don’t you?” 

You nod, since there’s no way you can find your voice at the moment. You’re completely hypnotised by him and watching as he starts to lower the knife. He presses the flat side of the blade over your clit without a warning, and you have to stop yourself from squirming because of how cold it feels against your warm and sensitive skin. 

“I could get used to seeing you on top like this, I could spend hours with my head buried between your thighs... is this pretty cunt only mine, baby?” His voice was much deeper than usual, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin just by the sound of him. 

“Yes, only yours.” You moan when he starts to slide the knife lower, and you look down to watch as he grazes the flat side back and forth. He surprises you when he moves it lower to your opening, teasingly circling it near your entrance and you instantly clench. 

“You’re soaking the knife, baby.” He whispers, pulling it away and you can finally move again, watching as he brings it to his mouth so he can lick the blade clean. “You taste so fucking good.” 

“Fuck,” You breath, aching to lower your hips on his mouth to get some sort of relief, this was making your stomach clench almost painfully. 

And then Eddie reaches out his hand again, tracing your nipples with the knife before lowering your hips and his mouth his quick to latch onto your core.

“Jesus fucking Christ- fuck!” You nearly scream, feeling as he squeezes your ass so tightly that you can almost already feel the bruises that are to be left behind.

He guides you to start moving your hips, and you allow your body to take the lead when you feel the electricity coursing through your veins. His tongue slips inside of you and you look down to watch, grinding your hips against his mouth as he fucks you with his tongue, curling it in you, making your thighs tremble.

You circle your hips slowly now, feeling your orgasm start to build inside of you. After all of his teasing and the knife play, you were really fucking wet and needy. The fact that you were high also contributed to the uncontrolled amount of arousal.

“Did you miss my pussy, baby?” The words leave your mouth before you could stop yourself and Eddie moaned so loudly that the sound reverberated through your whole body, making you throw your head back.

That seemed to have spurred him on because now his tongue was flicking on your clit as he then sucked it into his mouth. You missed this feeling… no one has ever made you feel this way.

He alternates between slow licks and then he nibbles at your clit, holding it between his teeth until it almost became painful, and that was enough to trigger your sudden orgasm. 

“Eddie! Fuck,” Your moan echoes around the room and you move your hips faster on his face, knowing you were soaking him with your release and his moans are the most addictive thing to hear. 

Your ears are ringing with the intensity of your climax and you grab his hair, circling your hips one last time before slowly pulling away. His mouth and chin are drenched and the smug smile on his face is the same as always. 

“You came fast... I’ll help you relax from now on, baby.” He says, licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit, and you have to pull away before you get too sensitive. You move back until you’re straddling his hips again, trying to catch your breath as he watches you with hooded eyes. 

You’re sitting right on top of his erection, feeling him throbbing between your folds as you reach out to grab his hand. He watches you as you bite your lip, reaching between your bodies so you can position his cock right under your entrance. “Is your cock only mine too, Eds?” 

“Fuck, yes.” Eddie closes his eyes to take a deep breath and you don’t give him any warning when you sink down, feeling his length burry all the way inside of you. 

“Fuck...” You both moan at the same time, your walls clenching around him because of your orgasm and he grabs your hips, keeping you still on top of him. 

You can feel his cold rings on your heated skin and you need a while to adjust, you’d forgotten just how big he is. He also reached much deeper in this angle... massaging just the right stop when you dare to circle your hips. 

“Oh, fuck.” You let out a shaky breath and he reaches out his hands to grab your boobs now, kneading them softly before he pinches your nipples, making you whimper his name. 

His hands then lower to your stomach, and he spreads his fingers there as his other hand instructs you to move your hips again. And just when you comply, he presses his hand on your lower abdomen, making a strangled moan escape from your lips. 

“I’m so deep like this... with you riding me.” He sounds out of breath, keeping his hand pressed when you circle your hips again, feeling how deep he is inside of you. “Can you feel it?” 

“Yes, Eddie. You feel so good.” You moan, placing your hands on his chest when you start moving faster, and he gropes your ass so roughly that you just knew you were going to have an imprint of his hand there. 

“You’re soaking me, fuck-” Eddie’s jaw clenches and his eyes roll back when you start bobbing your hips up and down, clenching even more as you fuck him. 

He’s hitting just the right spot over and over again and you can feel another orgasm building up inside you, and he suddenly reaches out his hand, wrapping his fingers around your throat and pulling your face closer to his. 

You gasp for air when he chokes you harder that he’s done before, and you can feel his rings leaving a mark on the side of your neck. 

Eddie keeps you still as he bends his knees, and now he’s the one who starts thrusting up into you, so fucking hard that he knocks the air out of your lungs and you can’t even moan properly, you were just breathing very heavily. 

“Did you have fun riding me?” He whispers, slamming his hips against yours and you keep your hands on the bed on either side of his head, moving your hips back to meet his every thrust. 

“Fuck! Harder, Eddie.” You moan, the loud sounds of your centres connecting only spurring him on and you watch as he grabs the knife with his free hand, slowing down his pace so can hand it to you. 

“Hurt me, baby.” He smiles when you wrap your fingers around the handle. “Leave your mark on me.” 

His words make you throb even more around him and you push his hand away from your neck, sitting up and feeling as his cock reaches even deeper inside you. You take a deep breath before you slide the knife down his neck, until you reach just below a small scar on his collarbone. 

You look deep into his eyes when you start moving your hips... very slowly so he can feel what you’re doing. And the way his jaw goes slack and he digs his fingers into your thighs is enough. 

“Fuck... spelling your name, yeah?” He moans very shamelessly, and after you’re done you push your damp hair off your face so you can press the knife on his chest, starting to press lightly into his skin. “Fucking hell...” 

You can feel him twitching inside you and he moans louder because of the pain, and you watch the small drop of blood starting to fall down his chest. You toss the knife to the floor after you’re done, leaning down to lick the drop before it can reach the sheets. 

His fingers thread into the back of your hair and you lower your tongue to his nipple, softly holding it between your teeth before you flick your tongue. Eddie’s moan is obscene and you’re so fucking close. You pull away so you can start moving again, bouncing on top of him more roughly than before. 

“Oh, god-” You roll your head back when your thighs start spasming on their own and his hands on your ass are guiding you to go even faster, until your orgasm hits you again and you literally scream his name. 

“(Y/N)-fuck!” He moans just as loud, bucking his hips from the bed when he comes, and you feel the short spurts of his release inside you as your walls clamp around his cock. 

You collapse on top of his chest, completely out of breath and worn out, but your mind is blank and the only thing you can feel is pleasure. 

You feel really good. 

His arms wrap around you, and he keeps you close while he’s still inside you, your chests are pressed together and your fast heartbeats are loud enough to be heard. 

“Fuck” He sighs. “I needed that too.” 

You hum, nuzzling against his chest and having no control over your brain, since now you were enjoying two types of highs at once, and your mouth moves on its own. 

“Eddie?” You whisper, feeling as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Yeah?” He whispers back. 

“Steve said that I like you.” You wonder if he can even hear your voice. 

“Do you, baby?” His voice is as low as yours, almost careful. 

This time, you didn’t hesitate before answering. 

“Yeah... I do.” 

[simonalkenmayer]

This is just so absurd I can’t not talk about it, so please read this short political analysis, even if you don’t usually read these, because this is…hilarious.

This election, almost 70% of the vote below the age of 21 went to democrats. Single women by a margin of 30 points voted Democratic. Minorities (particularly black women) broke for Dems overwhelmingly, black women mobilizing over 95% of their members in some constituencies.

The GOP is taking time to analyze this, running numbers, wondering how they can appeal to young people and women instead of only angry racist old white men…and these are their solutions so far as stated by multiple pundits on FOX, and why they are stupid:

Single women vote for Dems? Answer? Men, marry these women. Literally someone said “put a ring on it”. They said “it’s easy to see why single women vote Democratic—their policies keep women single”.

Why is this stupid? Well beyond the obvious misogyny of “we should just woo and marry women and then control them so they align with us politically”? There’s the fact that because women no longer need a man, to survive, men are now forced to bring character to the table, something many men (I’m thinking the alpha males of tiktok) never had to grow because of their privilege. You cannot just send men out into the world to literally conquer a woman’s heart. They’re not stupid. They can see when they’re not dating a decent guy. That’s why they stopped marrying them.

They’ve been, I kid you not,debating RAISING THE VOTING AGE TO 21.

Here is why that’s fucking idiotic, broken into many easy parts. 1. If they can’t vote, then they cannot be taxed, nor recruited for the military, nor jailed as adults. How’s that going to affect prisons, the military, taxes?

Well there’s over 600k active duty military below the age of 25 out of 1.35 million…you tell me.

16% of our tax revenue comes from the under 25 bracket

Oh right and what are they supposed to do? They can’t go to college, since….how are they going to be able to sign contracts for student loans if they aren’t being fairly represented or given adult status? Are they going to raise the legal age of adulthood since adults age 18-21 can no longer do anything of their own accord, extend high school again to stockpile them while they’re not being busy or just recruit them straight into the terrible service jobs in which the GOP hopes they remain?

I’m telling you…there is nothing to offer but no climate, rich billionaires, more debt, less freedom, less rights, and bigotry in that party. They want to destroy education to keep people stupid. They want to use religion to control. That party is not a party. It’s an evil conspiracy. Meaning the kids and the ladies will shy away. They have nothing to offer. Nothing. So they have to cheat.

Make no mistake the the abortion ban idea was specifically to encumber these two groups with crippling debt and dependency. That party has nothing to offer. Especially with trump running it. And this they well know. Most of his candidates lost. Most. And the red wave that was expected was nonexistent. One of two things will now happen:

My predictions:

Expect lots and lots of redistributing debates to cheat, I.e. gerrymandering but that’s a given.

1. Trump is a malignant narcissist. He doesn’t care about party or the country. During this election he said “if they win I should get the credit and if they lose I shouldn’t be blamed” a “head I win, tails you lose” if ever there was one. He will run again in 2024 despite the overwhelming repudiation by voters. He will (not?) win the primary, but he will take so much of the GOP base vote with him that it splits the vote and hands Dems a second Biden presidency.

Or

2. If the house is taken by the GOP, they will bargain with him to shut down federal oversight of him (including J6 hearings) to convince him not to run. He will still likely screw them in meaningful ways.

Unless he ends up in prison because of other investigations they can’t control…so the first seems most likely.

TLDR:

The kids and women are alright. Death to the Boomers. Enjoy your avocado if you can afford it. Don’t get married. Keep voting for change and keep using these platforms to educate your peers.

[fett-djarin]

Stress Relief

Here it is! This is entirely self indulgent and filthy! Im a wh*re for the croissant guards

Also I headcanon Fox looking like how amikoroyoaiart draws him. her art is so good!

Commander Fox x f!reader

Crossposted on ao3

Rating: 18+

Length: 3.9k

Warnings/Tags: Oral (m receiving), that good sloppy toppy, office sex, cursing, light grinding, making out

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Bringing the Guard their morning caf had become a tradition, of sorts. You knew the caf in the mess wasn’t good--in fact, it was barely even palatable. When you first started as a new secretary, it had been your timid way of offering friendship to the imposing troopers who worked so hard to keep the planet safe. They warmed to you quickly. Thire was the first to remove his helmet in front of you, plonking it down on your desk and taking a long pull of caf barely a second after you handed it to him. At your stunned look, he had just raised a brow and said, “Long patrol last night,” with a shrug.

As the others had become more comfortable with you, you had seen most of them without their buckets at some point--except for Fox. He always took his caf with a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” and retreated to his office. You knew it was against regulation for them to remove their helmets while they were on duty. But even when you dropped off the caf in his office, he was at his desk with his helmet on.

“He keeps it on so you can’t tell if he’s actually asleep,” Thorn told you one day. “I suspect he even does it while we’re standing guard sometimes.” You laughed aloud at that. The serious Commander Fox, asleep standing up. He was right though, you never would be able to tell.

The first time Fox removed his helmet in front of you, you hadn’t expected the gray dusting his temples, but honestly you weren’t surprised. The poor man was stressed beyond belief and worked half to death. You were more surprised that he finally did it in the first place. Fox sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls, before taking the caf and giving you a tired smile. He thanked you by name that time. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

From then on, he had been without it more when you went into his office. You even caught him sleeping once--head resting on his folded arms, bucket set next to him--and had done your best to deliver the caf without waking him. Maker knew he needed the sleep more than he needed hot caf--if Thorn hadn’t told you he snuck naps with the helmet on, you would think he ran off caf and stubborn will alone.

One morning, after you had passed out caf to the others--and a little cup of whipped cream for Grizzer--Fox hadn’t made an appearance, so you made your way to his office to drop it off. You knocked lightly on the door. “Come in,” his gruff voice called, and the door slid aside. You smiled at him, noting the way his shoulders visibly relaxed at seeing it was just you. You set the cup down on his desk. You had just turned when a touch on your wrist stopped you.

Fox was looking up at you, helmet cocked to the side. “You know you don’t have to bring us caf every time you work, right? The boys better not be nagging you for it.”

“I know,” you said. “I enjoy doing it. And it’s the least I could do.”

“The least you could do?”

“You all work so hard. You deserve more, even if it’s just better caf.”

He squeezed your wrist gently. “You don’t owe us anything. It is our duty to the Republic--”

“I know, Fox,” you tried to hide your grin, and failed. “But you’re also my friends.”

That seemed to surprise him, hand falling from your wrist as he sat back in his chair and regarded you curiously. You made your way back to the door, pausing in the entryway and looking back over your shoulder.

“Have a good morning, Commander.”

“...You as well, ma’am.”

The door slid shut behind you. Fox slipped his helmet off, setting it on his desk and staring hard at the door you had disappeared through. His eyes flicked to the paper cup of steaming caf, brows furrowed.

It was the first time you had called him by his name.

Friends?

----

After that day, Fox seemed to be trying to talk to you more. Instead of taking his caf and running off, he would stay, either to chat or just hang around for a minute with you and the other Guards. Stone nudged Thire, who nudged Thorn, and they all looked over to where Fox leaned his hip casually against your desk and you were laughing at something he said.

“Did someone replace Fox while we weren’t looking?” Thire questioned under his breath.

“I’ve never seen him so...cheery,” Stone said.

You smiled up at Fox, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. They watched as your fingers grazed the back of his hand where it rested on your desk. “Think something’s goin’ on between those two?” Thorn asked, gesturing vaguely over towards you and Fox with his cup.

“Absolutely.” Thire didn’t hesitate to answer.

The three quickly snapped to attention as Fox excused himself, heading their direction. You gave them a small wave. Thorn was about to wave back before Thire thumped him in the arm.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?” Fox grumbled as he passed them, heading to his office. “Get to it.” You hid your laugh behind your hand seeing the three Commanders scramble to disperse.

Evening rolled around, and you cocked your head side to side, stretching your neck and shoulders. You had been going over forms all day, datapad after datapad, organizing reports and requests for the Chancellor and the Senate. Your shift was almost over, and you were getting ready to go home for the night.

Various members of the Guard had come and gone, leaving and returning from patrols. Senators and representatives had filtered through; less and less as the evening progressed. You were just getting ready to leave when Fox stalked through, back from his rounds, tense and practically vibrating with irritation. He didn't even spare you a glance as he disappeared into his office. If the doors weren't automatic, he likely would have slammed it shut.

You knew he had a thankless job--a job he had no say in having, either. Usually it was something to do with the Chancellor that got him so worked up. Half the time you thought Fox would strangle the man himself if he could. Maybe you should take Fox out to one of the cafes nearby, just for a second to breathe and not carry the weight of the Guard on his shoulders. Was that against regulation? It might be better to invite him back to your apartment. Or did that imply too much?

You pushed yourself up from your chair, mind made up. He could always say no. You wouldn’t be offended.

You paused outside the door to his office, listening carefully. You couldn’t hear anything from the other side. So, you knocked.

“What.” Fox’s biting tone surprised you, but you didn’t take it personally.

“Commander? I...It’s me,” you said hesitantly, and then wanted to smack yourself. Confidence. “Is everything alright?”

No response. You took the silence as a sign that he wasn’t interested in talking. That was fine. You didn’t want to impose if he needed time to himself. The door slid open just as you had stepped back, intending to leave. Fox sighed, jerking his head to direct you inside.

The door shut behind you, and Fox sat heavily in his chair at the desk. Another deep sigh, and his shoulders slumped. He pulled his helmet off, setting it aside, and you caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes before he put his head in his hands.

“Commander Fox?” You took a tentative step forward, so you were close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder.

He looked up at you. There was still tension lining his shoulders, hands flexing into fists and then relaxing. Stress. He opened his mouth to say something, frowned, and then closed it again. He cleared his throat. “Did you need something?” You could tell he was making an effort to soften his voice, likely as to not snap at you again.

“I just wanted to check in, sir,” you said, coming around the desk to stand next to him, leaning your weight against it. “It looked like something was bothering you.”

He waved his hand in the air vaguely, brows pinched. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ you’re not one of my men.” He looked like he was debating saying more, so you waited patiently, quietly, hoping he recognized that you were here to listen if he so needed.

“As you likely know, there’s a gala coming up. Senators, politicians, ambassadors, Jedi….” Fox huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to be a security nightmare. And the Chancellor,” he spat, venom in his voice, “has been on my case about patrols and the Guard. Always demanding more. We’re spread too thin, and not getting the support we need--” he cut himself off. He was getting himself worked up again.

You placed your hand over his where it was clenched into a fist on the desk. It relaxed under your touch. Fox heaved another sigh mixed with a groan. “I’m behind on paperwork too,” he glared at the stack of datapads sitting to the side. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to find the time to do everything.”

“Hmm,” you reached over and picked up one of the datapads, skimming through it, hopping up so you were now sitting on the desk. It was just a patrol report that needed Fox’s signature before being filed. “What’s your CC number?”

“CC-1010,” he answered instantly, then regarded you with suspicion. “Why?”

You signed the bottom of the form: CC-1010, “Fox,” and submitted it.

“What are you doing?” his voice seemed to have kicked up an octave.

“Helping you with your work. I deal with paperwork and holoforms all the time,” you said, picking up another datapad and scanning through the information. “Most of the time it’s to make sure there’s a document trail. Most of these probably don’t need an in-depth review, they’re not important. They just go in the archives and are never looked at again.”

“I--you--that’s illegal,” he sputtered. But he seemed more surprised than serious.

You raised a brow at him, signing his designation and name once again before submitting the next form. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“No,” he didn’t hesitate. Interesting. Then he had a thought. “Your handwriting doesn’t even look like mine.”

“Doesn’t it?” you showed him where you had signed. It was almost identical to his scrawling script. His eyes flicked between the form and your face, incredulity on his features.

“How…?”

You shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always been good at. Saved me a lot of trouble as a kid when I needed my parents to sign for something at school. Especially when it was a disciplinary note.” Fox barked a disbelieving laugh at that and you couldn’t help your sly smile. “Even if I didn’t mimic your signature, no one would notice. Or care. You could mark the lines with an X and it would go through; it’s only the acknowledgement they care about. You can even draw a loth-cat face and have that be in the archive forever as a signature.”

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened with a chuckle. “Some of these aren’t just patrol reports though. I actually have to read through the more important ones.”

You handed him a holopad as you picked up your third. “How’s this: we work on these together; if I find one that has important information or requires more than a signature, I’ll give it to you.”

He regarded you for a long moment, debating your offer. Some of the weight had lifted from his shoulders; he looked less tense, less overwhelmed, even less exhausted. Then he slowly nodded. “All right,” he said. “But you have to let me buy you coffee for once.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“We’re friends. Right?”

That stopped you short. You did consider him and the other guards friends, but to hear him say that he also considered you one...it was nice. It made a pleasant warmth flutter in your stomach, and you couldn’t help your shy smile at his words. “Right,” you agreed. The soft upturn of his lips made your breath hitch. He looked so young when he smiled.

The two of you worked in companionable silence, steadily making your way through the stack of datapads. You had been correct--most of them were unimportant; standard reports and forms that required a signature purely for protocol. Every once in a while you handed one over to Fox for him to read through. Slowly, your free hands had crept together, and Fox hoped to the Maker that you didn’t notice how warm his cheeks had gotten. 

Your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the back of his hand, and he didn’t notice he was staring at the way your fingers moved rather than reading through the form you handed him until you cleared your throat. “Fox?” you asked quietly. His gaze landed on your lips. He wanted you to keep saying his name, he wanted to hear it again and again--

You brushed a stray curl back from his forehead. A tug on your arm had you stumbling forward off-balance, and you would have fallen if strong arms had not wrapped around you and pulled you into an armored chest. Heat rushed to your face at the new position you found yourself in: sat in Fox’s lap, his hand still entwined with yours.

Then he kissed you.

It was gentle, soft. His lips pressed to yours chastely, far more gently than you expected him to be, and you felt the datapad fall from your hand. The sharp clatter of it hitting the ground made Fox pull back, but then you grasped the back of his neck, twining your fingers in his curls, and pulled him back to your mouth. He tossed his own back on the desk with a groan as your lips met again.

You licked the seam of his lips, and he opened for you. Fox was content to let you lead. His hand gripped your hip, and he sighed into your kisses, melting from your affection. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that--tasting, breathing each other in, sharing languid kisses full of pent-up desire.

His wild curls were soft in your fingers, and he all but purred when you lightly scratched your nails along his scalp. The hard plastoid of his thigh plates was uncomfortable underneath you, and you shifted your hips slightly in an effort to find a more comfortable spot. The breath hissed out through Fox's teeth, and your face flushed with warmth realizing you had brushed against his codpiece. His fingers tightened on your hip and thigh, pulling you towards him, encouraging your hips to roll against him again.

It was an awkward angle, with you sitting with your legs thrown over his lap, but from the hitch in Fox’s breathing it was doing something for him. You hummed into his mouth before pushing yourself up, holding onto his broad shoulders for support as you swung one leg over so you were now straddling him, chest to chest.

“Better?” he rumbled, nipping your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. You squeaked as his palms cupped and squeezed your ass, tugging you closer. Both of you basked in each other's eager little breaths and soft noises, hungry and wanting for more.

"Mhmm." The new position allowed you to feel the firmness of Fox's codpiece against your center when you pressed your hips into his. Fox really appreciated the new position, with your tits against his chest and free access to grope your ass. He almost whined into your mouth at the steady slow grind you started against him.

You wanted to hear that noise again. An idea struck you. You wanted to taste him. One more deep kiss, then you shimmied back off his lap. Fox made a noise of protest and tried to pull you back to him, but you just grinned and shooed his hands away. The floor was cold on your knees as you settled between his spread legs.

“What are you--oh,” he cut off with a harsh breath as your deft fingers unclasped his codpiece and tossed it away. Immediately, your palm cupped the warm bulge at the front of his blacks. He shifted in his seat, and you noticed his cheeks and ears had flushed a shade darker. How cute.

“Commander,” you purred, slowly stroking him through the fabric.

“Y-yes, cyare?” His hands flexed at the arms of his chair. He was struggling to not reach out and pull you back on his lap. Normally so composed, Fox now looked wrecked with his lips slightly parted, kiss-swollen, and hair mussed.

“Will you let me suck your cock?”

Fox spluttered and fumbled at your bluntness. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, still slowly stroking him over his blacks. You could see him fighting with himself. Maker, he wanted it. He wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his length. But he also didn’t want you to feel like you had to--he also desperately wanted to pleasure you.

“Please?” you leaned forward and mouthed at his clothed erection, letting your spit soak the fabric. Your eyes locked with his, looking up at him with your best faux-innocent look, like you had no idea what you were doing to him. But Maker, you were hungry. You wanted him.

“Fuck,” the word sounded as if it had been punched out of him. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing the rich brown of his irises. “Fuck, yes--”

You wasted no time in tugging the band of his blacks down. A shiver worked its way through him; seeing you on your knees in front of him was a dream--a dirty little fantasy he would never admit to. Many nights alone in his quarters or in the showers he had roughly fisted his cock to the thought of you in situations that were most definitely unprofessional, biting the back of his hand to keep his noises at bay. And now here you were, the sweet secretary, making his dreams become reality.

The sliver of warm skin revealed to you made you instantly want more, and you couldn’t stop from pressing a light kiss to his hip. Then you eased his leaking cock from his blacks. Fox hissed in a breath through his teeth as your hand loosely wrapped around him, pumping his length slowly. The precum that dribbled from the tip slicked your grip. He was thick and firm in your hand, like velvet-wrapped durasteel.

The first stroke of your tongue against his cock made him curse. You licked slowly, working your way from tip to base and back, tracing the pulsing vein that ran along the underside. Taking the head of his cock in your mouth, you tasted the salty tang of the precum that leaked from him. When you hummed around him, his hand shot to your hair, fingers winding through the strands. He didn’t push you down or pull you away; instead, he merely just...held on.

Fox’s breathing kicked up watching you worship his cock with your tongue and hands. You enjoyed watching him try to hold himself together, slowly making him fall apart piece by piece. Your head bobbed up and down his length, each time taking more of him. Your hand continued to pump and work the rest you hadn’t fit in your mouth. He breathed out a string of words in a language you didn’t understand, but from the tone it sounded like he was praising you.

All his little noises were making the heat coil in your core. Wetness pooled between your legs, and you clenched your thighs together for the slightest bit of relief. You closed your eyes to concentrate, focusing on the weight of his cock on your tongue, the heat of his body. You slowly took more of him in your mouth until you felt his tip bump the back of your throat. Breathe through your nose. Fighting off your gag reflex, you swallowed around him.

“Shit! Shit, mesh’la--” Fox cried out above you, feeling your throat constrict around his length. He tugged gently on your hair, and you pulled off him with a gasp. “Fuck, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” It was meant to be a warning, but he sounded too breathless for it to carry any weight.

“But Commander,” you looked up at him, enveloping the tip of his cock in the heat of your mouth and gently sucking. His thighs twitched under your hands, cock throbbing, and you pulled off with an obscene pop. “That’s the best part.”

You were messy, letting saliva drip from your mouth and down his cock. You sucked, licked, and kissed every inch of his length until it was sopping. When you ducked down to take his balls in your mouth, his breath hitched, hand tightening in your hair, and a low moan came from him.

“Gedet’ye, mesh’la, gedet’ye--” Fox choked out.

“Hm?” You pulled back, hand wrapped around his cock and continued to pump him tightly. You twisted your wrist when your hand brushed over his head. He was panting lightly, and looked deliciously wrecked.

“Gedet’ye,” he said again, “please.”

You smiled at him, and he felt his heart jump. You looked filthy, lipstick--Coruscant guard red?--smeared, lips and chin wet with spit. “I want you to cum in my mouth, Fox.” Then you brought your mouth back to his cock and sucked, laving your tongue over the sensitive head as one hand stroked the base. The other came up to cradle his balls, and he was done for.

Fox cursed up a storm in both Basic and Mando’a, nearly doubling over as his orgasm was wrenched out of him by your clever mouth. You kept your gaze connected with his, eyes hazy and half-lidded. Warm spurts of his release filled your mouth and you eagerly swallowed it down, milking his cock until he had nothing left. Subtly, you rubbed your thighs together, so turned on it nearly hurt. Seeing Fox fall apart for you stoked the fire of arousal in your core.

He had an arm thrown over his eyes as he slumped in his chair, chest heaving for breath. “Stars above, you’re going to kill me,” he said. You giggled, hands running soothing motions over his thigh plates, even though he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid. He looked boneless and sated, which was exactly your intention--well, part of your intention.

Then he was guiding you back up, cupping your cheek and kissing you hard. It was desperate, deep, filled with so much emotion that you couldn’t decipher it, you only knew that you felt the same. You moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, and you noticed the glint in his eye and his sly grin before he kissed you again, standing and guiding you back to sit on his desk.

“Now it’s my turn.”

[therealvinelle]

Hi, your metas are super interesting, and even if I really enjoy fanon twilight, it's really cool to read opinions based only on canon too!

So my question is about the sexual orientation of the Cullens, do you think they all straight?

For example i saw someone saying that Edward maybe was demisexual and it left me thinking, so i just wanted to know your opinions about it :)

In short, no.

In alphabetical order:

Alice is with a man, but without getting into the mess that is Alice/Jasper here, I don’t think theirs is a particularly physical relationship. I mean, if Alice wanted to get laid, she could just decide to fuck Jasper, enjoy the vision, and bam. Itch scratched. Thanks, Jazz. Alright, I’ll be serious. Alice and Jasper are with each other because the other represents salvation, not so much because of a personal or physical attraction but because of mysticism. So to me that doesn’t really say much about Alice’s preference. All the same I can’t see Alice having a particular preference, she’s too... Alice. Although it is easier to picture her with women. She is also the second half of the Alice/Bella homoerotic extravaganza, which makes heterosexual Alice even more farfetched to me. So, bisexual or lesbian Alice.

Bella shows clear attraction to women as well as men. She’s attracted to Rosalie, Alice, Edward, and Carlisle. I’ll just give you guys quotes: Of the three boys, one was big — muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students. The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction. (Twilight, page 9) This is the Cullens’ introduction. I won’t spend much time on it, just notice the difference between Rosalie and the others. Rosalie is highlighted in a way Alice is not, and Edward is at first glance only the boyish one of the guys. Rosalie was the Cullen whose beauty immediately stood out to Bella. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful — maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy. (sic.) Bella has realized by now that Edward’s a grade A hottie, but she’s still torn between him and Rosalie. Bella then gets to know Alice, and they become friends who take showers together(!). Rosalie may be the most attractive Cullen woman, but Alice is the one Bella gets emotionally close to. We get this in New Moon:  UNNATURALLY STILL AND WHITE, WITH LARGE BLACK EYES intent on my face, my visitor waited perfectly motionless in the center of the halt, beautiful beyond imagining.  (...) I locked my arms around her, gasping to inhale as much of the scent of her skin as possible. It wasn't like anything else—not floral or spice, citrus or musk. No perfume in the world could compare. My memory hadn't done it justice. (New Moon, page 191) Bella never thought she’d never see any of the Cullens again, so for her to be hysterical and ecstatic upon seeing her second favorite is not by itself damning. I’m sure she’d be ecstatic to see Emmett too. It’s that fact that she’d missed Alice’s scent that’s interesting. The scent of her skin was something Bella was aware of before they parted. And while it may be tempting to say “it’s because they’re vampires, Bella’s admiring them like she would a work of art!”, Bella never dwells on Esme, Jasper, or Emmett in this way. Jasper and Emmett especially are not admired beyond the introduction of their characters. We never hear about what any of them smell like, nor does Bella remark upon their beauty after waking up a vampire. Carlisle and Edward, by comparison, are men she keeps noticing. Bella finds Carlisle blindingly beautiful when she first sees him as a vampire, and there’s this from New Moon: Though it erased the sting, it reminded me of the gash, and I watched Carlisle's face carefully to distract me from what his hands were doing. His hair gleamed gold in the bright light as he bent over my arm. (New Moon, page 18) There’s thinking someone is pretty, and then there’s gazing lovingly upon their face instead of pain killers. Bella is bisexual.

Carlisle moved in with a very gay man, had a close relationship with him, lived with him for the sake of his company for decades, and only left because of dietary differences. We don’t know for sure whether they actually had an affair or not, but the fact remains that of all the Cullens, Carlisle is the one who is implied to have had a homosexual relationship in canon. He loses his straight card based on that alone. Also gonna link this clip, because I’m Mac listening to Edward talk about how young Carlisle lived with this sexy Mycenaean Greek for a few decades when he was young. Aro is all the santas. Carlisle is bisexual.

Edward... oh boy. His brain is supposedly seventeen, and yet this very interesting thing happens in his relationship with Bella where he never notices her body. Not ever. By body I mean curves. Edward notices Bella’s skin, her frailty, her humanity. He praises her blushes, her doe-like eyes, her warmth, her softness, her swan-like neck, her delicious scent. The feminine aesthetic. He does not once notice her tits. The only tits he is on record noticing belong to Siobhan, and it’s because she has an impossible to ignore rack: She was profoundly female in shape—aggressively, forcefully female. (Midnight Sun, chapter Probability) It’s one thing for him to be old-fashioned and too quintessentially Edward to even think the word “boob”, but in 700+ pages of Midnight Sun there’s just this absence of this seventeen-year-old noticing her curves. More damningly, when seeing Alice’s vision of vampire!Bella, Edward is horrified at the sight of his love cold and hard. He doesn’t describe vampire!Bella by any of the positives, like “flawless”. Edward is attracted to the human, not the woman. What that means for his sexuality... well, I’m going to go ahead and point out that he is very weird about Carlisle, and it’s damning that the personality he projects onto Bella is so similar to Carlisle. I hesitate to apply a label here, but in my own, personal, headcanon we’re veering towards homosexual. Deeeeeeply closeted homosexual.

Emmett is straight. Straightest guy ever to straight.

Esme is pretty clearly taken with Carlisle. Though if she were to feel attracted towards another woman, I imagine she’d have no idea what to make of that, if she even recognized it for what it was. She’s from a very different time and still living in that time, and she continues to be very sheltered. Still, as per my personal headcanon, I see her as straight.

Jasper, who knows. Though if he’s into guys, he has probably gone for it in the past. I suppose I should write a meta on vampires and sexual norms in general, but in short I don’t think they all live monogamously like the Cullens. STDs and pregnancies are unheard of, as is social ostracizing. Vampires are hedonistic, Twilight vampires more so than any other. Which in turn means I don’t think Maria and Jasper were monogamous. A couple, sure, but I don’t think Maria would say “oh noes, I can’t, I’m with Jasper!” if someone she was attracted to made an overture, and same goes for Jasper. So, if Jasper was into guys, then sure. I can see Jasper/Peter happening, or even Charlotte/Jasper/Peter. Jasper is certainly into women, with the possibility of guys as well. And if so, then it’s probably happened.

Rosalie I’m shocked is with a guy in the first place, everything about her screams lesbian. However, she’s clearly into Emmett, so apparently she’s bisexual.

(I’m not including Renesmée in this, since she’s three months old by the time the series conclude.)

This all being said, several of these people are from very different times and wouldn’t have the same concepts of sexuality internalized as we do, so how they’d identify is a very different matter.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOUR EMPLOYEES AND INVESTORS WILL CONSTANTLY BE ASKING ARE WE THERE YET

I think I've figured out what's going on. After the first 10 or so we learned to treat deals as background processes that we should ignore till they terminated.1 Don't Get Your Hopes Up. Something hacked together means something that barely solves the problem, the harder it is to bait the hook with prestige. And that is almost certainly mistaken. So one thing that falls just short of the standard, I think, should be the highest goal for the marginal. Big companies think the function of office space is to express rank. As big companies' oligopolies became less secure, they were willing to pay a premium for labor. You can see it in old photos. If you're friends with a lot of the worst kinds of projects are the death of a thousand cuts. And what's especially dangerous is that many happen at your computer.

And the microcomputer business ended up being Apple vs Microsoft. In 1450 it was filled with the kind of turbulent and ambitious people you find now in America. You have to like what they do there than how much they can get the most done. That's not what makes startups worth the trouble. Design This kind of metric would allow us to compare different languages, but that if someone wanted to design a language explicitly to disprove this hyphothesis, they could probably do it. This technique can be generalized to: What's the best thing you could be doing, not just what you can see the results in any town in America. With this amount of money can change a startup's funding situation completely. There I found a copy of The Atlantic. Whereas it's easy to get sucked into working longer than you expected at the money job.2 That's ok. I think you have to do all three. But more importantly, you'll get into the habit of doing things well.

But what if the person in the next 40 years will bring us some wonderful things.3 They all know about the VCs who rejected Google. The writing of essays used to be.4 You may have read on Slashdot how he made his own Segway.5 He improvises: if someone appears in front of him, he runs around them; if someone tries to grab him, he spins out of their grip; he'll even run in the wrong place, anything might happen. The people who've worked for a few months I realized that what I'd been unconsciously hoping to find there was back in the place I'd just left. It was supposed to be something else, they ended up being Apple vs Microsoft. By 2012 that number was 18 years. The first thing you need is to be willing to look like a fool.6 Google they have a fair amount of data to go on. John Malkovich where the nerdy hero encounters a very attractive, sophisticated woman.

Many of the big companies were roll-ups that didn't have clear founders.7 Empirically, the way to the bed and breakfast, and other similar classes of accommodations, you get to hit a few difficult problems over the net at someone, you learn pretty quickly how hard they hit them anyway. Inexperienced founders make the same mistake as the people who list at ABNB, they list elsewhere too I am not negative on this one was the only way to get lots of referrals is to invest in students, not professors. It will actually become a reasonable strategy or a more reasonable strategy to suspect everything new.8 Never say we're passionate or our product is great. Whereas undergraduate admissions seem to be disappointments early on, when they're just a couple guys in an apartment. Programmers at Yahoo wouldn't have asked that.9 Incidentally, this scale might be helpful in deciding what to study in college. VCs think they're playing a zero sum game.

I spend most of my time writing essays lately. Almost everyone's initial plan is broken. If smaller source code is the purpose of comparing languages, because they come closest of any group I know to embodying it. Distracting is, similarly, desirable at the wrong time. But if we make kids work on dull stuff now is so they can get away with atrocious customer service. In fact, here there was a kid playing basketball? Of course, figuring out what you like.

Go out of your way to bring it up e. The industry term here is conversion. Try to keep the sense of wonder you had about programming at age 14. At least if you start a startup, people treat you as if you're unemployed.10 But hacking is like writing. Even with us working to make things happen the way they used to, they were moving to a cheaper apartment. It causes you to work not on what you like, but is disastrously lacking in others. I do in the rest of the world. Their defining quality is probably that they really love to program.

I could only figure out what to do, there's a natural tendency to stop looking.11 Economies of scale ruled the day.12 One is that this is simply the founders' living expenses.13 I need to transfer a file or edit a web page, and I think I know what is meant by readability, and I think they're onto something. Multiply this times several hundred, and I get an uneasy feeling when I look at my bookshelves. You may have read on Slashdot how he made his own Segway.14 Everyday life gives you no practice in this. Startups grow up around universities because universities bring together promising young people and make them work on anything they don't want to want, we consider technological progress good.

Notes

Samuel Johnson said no man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money. Which is precisely my point. If they were regarded as 'just' even after the egalitarian pressures of World War II the tax codes were so new that the guys running Digg are especially sneaky, but except for money. They don't know enough about the new top story.

The image shows us, they tended to make money. But we invest in the Bible is Pride goeth before destruction, and one of the fake leading the fake leading the fake. In No Logo, Naomi Klein says that 15-20% of the aircraft is.

But because I realized the other writing of Paradise Lost that none who read a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson. If they agreed among themselves never to do due diligence for an investor? The best technique I've found for dealing with the other.

I ordered a large number of startups as they do for a public event, you can ignore. If you want to help the company, and a few of the Facebook that might produce the next Apple, maybe the corp dev is to show growth graphs at either stage, investors decide whether to go to die.

If you walk into a big company CEOs in 2002 was 3.

Or rather, where w is will and d discipline. But that turned out the existing shareholders, including that Florence was then the richest country in the sense of mission.

In Shakespeare's own time, because they can't afford to. The company may not be able to raise their kids in a company in Germany. When we got to see the apples, they said, and why it's next to impossible to write an essay about it wrong. That will in many cases be an open booth.

I'm not saying you should probably be worth trying to tell them exactly what constitutes research in the early 90s when they say they bear no blame for any particular truths you'll learn. As Jeremy Siegel points out that there is undeniably a grim satisfaction in hunting down certain sorts of bugs. Did you know about it as if you'd invested at a discount of 30% means when it was actually a great programmer doesn't merely do the right direction to be is represented by Milton.

But a lot of the next round. It's hard to say exactly what your body is telling you. In Russia they just kill you, they tend to be very unhealthy. One thing that drives most people realize, because you have two choices, choose the harder.

Though Balzac made a lot of classic abstract expressionism is doodling of this essay talks about programmers, but one by one they die and their houses are transformed by developers into McMansions and sold to VPs of Bus Dev. Or rather, where it sometimes causes investors to act. Eric Raymond says the best hackers want to trick admissions officers. And no, unfortunately, I mean efforts to protect widows and orphans from crooked investment schemes; people with a truly feudal economy, you better be sure you do in proper essays.

The top VCs thus have a better education. Or a phone, IM, email, Web, games, books, newspapers, or some vague thing like that. You need to fix. But the question is not much to maintain their percentage.

Kant. Loosely speaking. The real decline seems to them to lose elections. Some types of startups where the recipe is to say incendiary things, they can grow the acquisition offers most successful founders still get rich simply by being energetic and unscrupulous, but they get for free.

World War II to the frightening lies told by older siblings. That's one of the most general truths. As we walked in, we found they used it to get into that because a unless your last funding round.

But this seems an odd idea.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Shiro Kawai, Garry Tan, Chris Small, and Nikhil Nirmel for sharing their expertise on this topic.

[babyybitchhh]

Shigaraki x Reader 18+

Title: Crybaby

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 12,290

Warnings: I'll be honest and say I'm not entirely sure how to tag some of this so proceed with caution. Infantilization, forced age regression, mental age regression, non consensual regression, ageplay, mentions of baby bottles and pacifiers, coercion, general noncon and dubcon, diddling, vaginal fingering, involuntary urination, wetting, mention of forced third party bathing, diapers, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, creampie, excessive use of 'Tomu-nii', mention of sex slaves, a brief but explicitly violent death mention towards the start, overall very questionable decisions from both me and Shigaraki

A/N: I will not be taking any questions at this time, thank you.

( @tomurasprincess)

♥♥♥♥

There was a fine line between a gift and a burden.

A new video game, for example, is something people were generally happy to receive and there was no obligation to slave over it at all hours of the day, unless you wanted to. A puppy, on the other hand, came with a certain amount of responsibility that couldn’t be side lined until Tomura decided to deal with it. There was no save button, no coming back to it later. He had to be vigilant to some degree, mindful of the life that was now in his hands, and that wasn’t something he was accustomed to by any stretch of the imagination. He couldn’t stand it. Didn’t even really possess the vernacular needed to describe exactly how much it pissed him off that he was suddenly expected to take care of someone - something else.

It was bullshit.

Standing over your prone form sprawled out on the cluttered floor he thinks, not for the first time, about ending it right here and now. It would be easy, surely. One touch of his hand and you’d be gone. Disintegrated to mere dust and nothing more than a vague, unpleasant memory in the back of his mind. You deserved it by simple virtue of being such a damn inconvenience but, just as every other time, he hesitates.

Not because you don’t even realize the danger you’re in as you innocently kick your legs back and forth in the air, all your wide eyed, dopey attention locked on the tv screen. Tomura is not so soft as to consider a sneak attack you don’t even see coming an insult to his pride. He would’ve been showing you mercy, actually, because if he didn’t fear upsetting All for One so much he’d have preferred to wrap his hands around your scrawny little neck instead. Give you a good throttle or two. Squeeze until his knuckles were a stark white against your purpling blue skin. He could almost envision what you would look like, all bloated and full of blood from burst capillaries and reddened eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

His cock stirs in his pants and his hatred for you grows with it. He couldn’t stand you or what you represented, a sudden addition to his life that he never asked for but couldn’t get rid of, and the fact he was getting stiff from his morbid fantasies was certainly your fault too. Everything was your fault. Right down to the most minor of inconveniences, you were to blame - even if it happened before you were dropped into his lap with all the to-do of a posh, overly indulgent birthday present. It was you. You, you, you, you you you youyouyouyouyou -

“Tomu-nii?”

With a jolt, he snaps out of it. The haze lifts and his blown out eyes focus in on your tubby little face, now turned over your shoulder to glance back at him. Tomura isn’t sure when you realized he was looming over you like some horrible, sickly wraith and he knows even less how it is that you show no fear towards him. Were you really so stupid that you couldn’t sense his desire to not only kill you but make you suffer? So blind that you didn’t see the way his bony hands fisted at his sides with a purpose and not in idle reflex?

No. It wasn’t that you were as unintelligent as a brain dead sheep happily trotting off to slaughter. Rather, it’s because that was what All for One had designed you to be.

Tomura wouldn’t claim to understand how, exactly, his mentor had gotten these results but he knows enough to recognize the signs. You’d been stripped of everything in a way that far exceeded mere surface level nudity. All for One had gone even deeper than that, past flesh and bone and right into the heart of what made you you. The brain.

He had no doubt that a quirk had been used, the specifics of which he couldn’t even begin to fathom, but the tinkering and rewiring had done its job exceedingly well, in fact. While your body was that of a young adult woman, early to mid 20’s if he had to wager a guess, your mind was something like that of a toddlers. You could speak just fine but the enunciation was sloppy, your words childish and limited to small, easily communicable sentences. You picked up on things surprisingly fast, perhaps even a little too well if the way he’d heard you let out a soft, half hearted ‘fuck’ earlier was anything to go by. But you slipped up just as easily and he was getting real tired of making sure you went and sat on the toilet instead of pissing all over his (no doubt already smelly) carpet. Living in his own mess was one thing. Living in someone else’s was another matter entirely.

Nothing about this was in error, though. You were exactly what All for One intended for you to be - little more than an animal for him to look after but with arguably higher stakes involved - and he’d had enough. It’d only been a single day, a full 24 hours since you were dropped into his room, and he was already at the end of his patience.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like that stupid cartoon I put on for you?”

You actually had the audacity to pout at him, jutting your lower lip out and puffing your cheeks as if that was supposed to make him feel anything other than an even stronger urge to take you out of this world. “S’not that. Mm’ just bored. You’re no fun.���

Tomura very nearly lunges at you with outstretched hands, All for One be damned, but your next words stop him in his tracks.

“I thought maybe you were coming to play with me.”

Play with you? He would’ve laughed if only he could find even a sliver of real humor in this situation. This was a joke, if not because of the absurdity of it all then at least because he wanted to play with you alright. He wanted to play a game that started with you screaming in shrill terror and ended with a chilly body laid out on his bedroom floor. That sounded like more fun than a barrel of kittens.

He stills himself, though, and snobbishly peers at you down the length of his nose. “I don’t play games with brats. Sorry.”

That only makes you pout even more. “Meanie.”

“Watch your fucking cartoon,” Tomura grits out through gnashing, angry teeth, unreasonably irritated by your persistent refusal to cooperate. “Before I make you.”

He isn’t even really sure if that threat makes any sense at this point, so thrown off by your mere presence in what should’ve been his space that he can barely make heads or tails of his own thoughts anymore. But the dramatic way you squawk in displeasure and throw yourself out flat on the floor placates him somewhat. You were easy to rile up, and he would have been a boldfaced liar if he’d said he didn’t get a kick out of that. Tomura had never felt quite so cruel, so much like an adolescent bully looking to make his problems someone else’s as when he was working you up into a proper fit.

It was easily the most enjoyable aspect of this arrangement so far, and he watches with nothing short of smug satisfaction as you pound your hands on the floor in pent up frustration. It was laughably easy to picture what they’d look like, well groomed after a manicure and with a fresh coat of polish on the nails. You looked like you’d probably been the sort of woman who would go with reds. Fierce and bold, as much a statement as your pretty face, which was currently scrunched up and pressed tight against the carpet in front of his tv. Those same hands were plain and unadorned now, squeezed into tight little fists that were about as harmless as they could get. Tomura probably would’ve considered a turtle more of a pressing threat than you right now.

“Crybaby.” He spits the word out like it’s poison. “Does that make you feel better? Huh? Throwing a tantrum just because you’re not getting your way?”

“Mm’ not a crybaby!” You scream into the carpet. The contrast between your plushy figure and your behavior is disturbing on some very real, intrinsic level and that only seems to add fuel to his fire.

“Hah! That’s funny. You certainly look like one, you know that? What would you even think of yourself if you were in your right mind, I wonder.”

“Mm’ not!” Your incessant screeching rises in pitch and Tomura is almost positive you aren’t even really hearing him anymore, but he decides he doesn’t care.

“Embarrassing. Maybe I should have Kurogiri bring me a bottle since you want to act like a baby so much. Or would you like a pacifier instead? Hmm? Would that make you feel better, princess?”

“Nooooo!”

Your feet start kicking the air again, violently rather than in placid distraction, and the motion draws Tomura’s gaze to the seat of your onesie. Pink and humiliatingly infantile for a grown woman to be wearing, he’d looked at it with nothing short of contempt up until now. But the (no doubt exhausting) flex of your legs bunches the loose cotton, making it gather around your upturned ass and in turn emphasizes the convenient button flap across the back. Now that he’s actually looking at it, he’s almost positive it was wide enough to expose your entire rear to the world with little more than a quick snap of his fingers. Maybe even wide enough to expose other things too …

Tomura jolts with all the force of a sudden electric shock when you cry out his name or, rather, the ridiculous moniker you’d given him. He’d like to know who’d planted that particular seed in your head - if it was All for One’s idea of a twisted joke or if Kurogiri had really thought being called niichan by a woman who may or may not actually be older than him would make Tomura feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It doesn’t exactly matter now, though, because the wet quality of your voice makes his cock spring up in his pants. He’s mildly horrified with himself, far more comfortable with his earlier fantasies of killing you, but there’s no helping it anymore. Not when you say his name like that. Not when the tears he’d initially thought were crocodilian at best were so thick and heavy in your throat that the syllables come out garbled and almost incomprehensible.

He’s not sure what he intends to do, but he shuffles closer.

You’ve started to tire out now and the kicking slows before stopping all together. He watches your ankles cross over one another in the air, as if you were trying to self soothe on some level by physically keeping yourself together, but it doesn’t seem to do much in the way of good. Your shoulders were still trembling with the lingering traces of your fit, and he can hear you mewling into the abrasive carpet like a wounded animal. It was clear that you were hurting because of him - and not just as a result of his teasing. After the complete and utter deconstruction of your mind, you were probably scared without even really knowing why. Confused, but too lost in the quirk induced stupor that had left you in this sorry state to seek out answers.

He hadn’t bothered to test this theory yet, but Tomura would have been willing to bet good money that All for One left you with very little inside that thick skull of yours. It just made sense, after all. For what good was a doll with memories of her past life? What would he have possibly gotten out of playing house with someone who fought him every step of the way, either out of embarrassment or repulsion towards him as a person?

No. You were a blank slate in the strictest sense. His to mold however he deemed fit and with no recollection of who you were, who you’d been or even who you’d wanted to be, he was free to do whatever he damn well pleased.

There was still raging contempt for you burning within his chest, certainly. You were an annoying, unnecessary burden on him and there was no getting around the fact that he still wanted you gone. But the spark igniting his gut is even stronger and, for better or worse, it momentarily overrides his better judgement.

So he sinks down onto his knees, directly behind you, and reaches out to tentatively palm the swell of your ass. Pinky held away, so as not to disintegrate you, which surprises him somewhat given how vivid his fantasies of killing you had been. He doesn’t get to linger on that for very long though, because you grow still at his touch and your pathetic sniveling quiets to a soft, almost hopeful sniffle. Tomura bites back a crude snort, just barely managing to catch himself before he backpedals and hisses another insult at you. He could probably take what he wanted with any given method, he didn’t have to be nice about it, but somehow the alternative just felt wrong. Physically you were an adult, but with the mental state of a child it felt a bit like taking advantage of an innocent and he wasn’t a complete monster.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, the word foreign on his tongue. “I shouldn’t have been so mean. Will you forgive me?”

You squirm and push your face further into the carpet. “Mhm.”

He doesn’t smile. But he does take that as an incentive to push forward, and he starts caressing your backside with slow, cautious circles. “Do you really want me to play with you that bad?”

“Mhm.”

Hesitating, Tomura considers his next words very carefully. “Fine. I’ll play with you. But I get to choose the game.”

You don’t immediately respond and he starts to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Overestimated his ability to be diplomatic and conscientious - which wouldn’t exactly have come as a surprise. But then you shift on the floor, tension draining from your body as you turn your head so you aren’t suffocating in the carpet anymore. “Okay.”

His brows lift in surprise only to then knit together. It was that easy? He’s not so sure he trusts it but, dropping his gaze back down to your ass, he gives the doughy soft flesh an experimental squeeze. Your only response is a soft, faltering sigh that seems to help you relax more. This, too, seems a little too good to be true but he keeps going anyway.

When a few minutes of kneading your defenseless backside does nothing to upset you, Tomura starts to get bolder. He slowly brings his opposite hand forward and latches onto the other cheek with four fingers, massaging both sides in tandem. He’d had the unfortunate luck of seeing your bare ass late the previous evening, after you’d emptied your bladder all over the blanket he’d tossed you to sleep on which had resulted in an aggressively administered bath for you and a frustrated headache for him. He hadn’t paid too much attention at the time, far too angry to be horny, but he knew enough to realize that you were unexpectedly voluptuous under that onesie.

The garment itself was so oversized it hid even the smallest hint of the womanly figure underneath. He probably would’ve forgotten all about it, pushed to the back of his mind in favor of more pressing matters (like getting rid of you) but now that he’s got his hands on your butt it’s all he can think about. The way your full tits jiggled when he’d non too gently manhandled you into the tub. The frustratingly cute lower belly pouch that bulged when you sat down, crying, on the porcelain surface. The way your thighs molded to whatever position he’d yanked them in so he could hose you off like a filthy stray. He’d actively avoided looking at what was between your legs, in fear of what he’d see as much as stubborn refusal, but looking back on it now he isn’t sure how he hadn’t given in to temptation.

Now, however, he was suddenly more interested than ever in finding out what your pussy looked like and, hooking his long index fingers into the flap, he starts to unlatch it one button at a time.

You make no move to stop him. Don’t even protest or question what he’s doing. It’s almost as if just having his attention on you is enough, and Tomura’s mouth pulls back in a sneer at the mere thought. You were so damn stupid for trusting him like this, completely oblivious or uncaring about what his intentions were. He could be as violent with you as he wanted. He could erase you from this existence with the briefest touch. But you just lay there, your shoulders slowly rising and falling with each even breath you draw, and he can’t decide if that feeling clawing at the back of his throat is hatred or guilt.

But there’s no real reason to stop now, so he carefully peels back the flap of fabric once he’s got it completely unfastened. Bare skin greets him, a perfectly exposed strip of swelling flesh that seems all the more enticing with pink cotton framing it so nicely. He pauses long enough to lick his dry, cracked lips. The weight of his stiff cock strains against the inside of his zipper, twitching eagerly when he reaches out to hesitantly touch your back side again.

The sensation of a real, living person under his fingertips makes his breath come a little faster. Still, you don’t move though and he picks up right where he left off, roughly groping your ass cheeks with barely contained excitement until he gets so vigorous that you whimper.

“Shh. I’ll try not to be so rough.” Tomura shushes you, throaty and barely more than a murmur.

You settle back into place, thankfully, and he takes that chance to spread your cheeks open. He gets a brief glimpse of the puckered hole hidden inside, white hot static racing straight to his groin, and he lets out a rumbling groan. His fingers squeeze into flesh again and he pulls, baring you entirely to his voracious eyes. The tight muscle twitches, winking at him, and his attention drops to the smallest satiny peak of your slit. He can just barely see it, mostly hidden behind the pooling fabric bunched under the swell of your ass, but it’s more than enough to make him feel dizzy.

“Shit,” he sounds winded even to his own ears. “You’ve got such a nice body.”

To his surprise, you actually perk up at that. “Really?”

Tomura almost snaps at you on impulse, so irritated by the sound of your voice that he nearly forgets what he’s trying to do. Quelling himself, though, he tugs at the bottom half of your onesie until he can see the plushy soft lips of your pussy. You look so inviting, so warm and real he can hardly even stand it.

“Really.” He croaks. “How old are you again?”

You seem to think about that. “Mm, I dunno’!”

He frowns. Contemplates that for a long beat. But the coarse hair curling around your slit seems answer enough, for him at least. You weren’t actually a child. You just sounded like one, acted like one, dressed like one. That wasn’t what was getting him so painfully hard though. It was the fact you were a woman, physically, and he’d never gotten to see one up close and personal like this before. Why hadn’t All for One just given him a proper sex slave instead of one that threw tantrums and cried at the drop of a dime? Was this really what his mentor had intended for him to do with you?

“Tomu-nii?”

Drawing a sharp breath, he brings his attention up to bark at you to be quiet but the words catch when he finds you looking at him over your shoulder. He can feel his cheeks starting to warm, suddenly embarrassed.

“What?”

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

He flounders for a moment. Then, awkwardly clearing his throat, he decides to fall back on his original excuse. “This is the game I mentioned earlier. You wanted to play, right?”

You nod your head, but you don’t look entirely certain about that. “I do but … aren’t games s’posed to be fun? This is boring!”

His mouth presses into a thin line. It hadn’t occurred to him that you might not be content to just idly sit by while he molested your slutty little body, but if it was fun you wanted then he could certainly give you that. “This was just the warm up. Roll over and I’ll show you how to play.”

The way your eyes light up almost makes him regret this decision. It’s too late though, you’re already twisting over on to your back with your elbows braced on the carpet so you can stare up at him. Stupid and expectant.

He clicks his tongue.

Reaching out to grab your wide set hips with only eight of his fingers, he inelegantly drags you closer so that you were nicely slotted between his knees. Your legs curl up as you regard him with nothing short of intense curiosity, lips parting in a silent ‘o’ that very nearly sends him over the edge. You were too pretty for your own good. Much too beautiful to be wearing a pink onesie and acting like a baby. This was such a waste, and he almost feels bad for what All for One did to you.

But he shrugs it off, forcefully, and his delicately poised hands descend on your zipper. Zrrrrrt, straight down the length of your body. It stops directly above your crotch and he reaches up to reverently push the cotton out to the sides and expose the rest of you.

Your tits were even better than he’d initially thought. They were full and heavy, dotted with the most perfect little buds for nipples. Soft and smooth. Tomura’s mouth waters in anticipation and he doesn’t realize how roughly he’s jerking your arms out of the sleeves until you wail dramatically that it hurts.

He’d like to tell you what really hurts is his cock, unbearably hard and trapped inside his pants, but he refrains. Instead, he huffs out an insincere apology and keeps on yanking. He can’t get you undressed fast enough, mesmerized by the way your breasts jiggle and bounce every time he pulls on you. There’s something inherently wrong about this, he knows. It’s so damn obvious you’re not right in the head, that you aren’t of sound enough mind to even understand what he’s doing to you, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you were so willing and pliant under his shaking hands.

Finally managing to wrest the blasted onesie off your kicking feet, Tomura tosses it off to the side and he eagerly sets his sights on your naked body. You should have looked seductive and coy, spread out in front of him with a devious smile curling artfully painted lips as you invite him to have his way with you. Instead, you fitfully squirm, neither seductive nor shy. It’s clear that you have no sense of shame, your artificially infantile brain completely void of the concept and even less aware of how inappropriate any of this was. You just keep looking at him, waiting for the explanation he’d promised to give you.

Oh. That’s right. The game he kept talking about. Perhaps he could still salvage this after all.

“The rules are simple,” he says slowly, scrambling to put together a decent excuse to keep going. “I’ll touch you for a little bit and if I can make you feel good then I win. After that, it’ll be your turn. If you make me feel good, you’ll win. Understand?”

Your expression pinches in confusion. “So we both win?”

“Only if we make each other feel good. What’s wrong? You don’t want to play with me anymore?”

Much to his relief, you quickly bob your head. “I do! Please play with me, Tomu-nii!”

The way his cock jolts at that makes his entire body ache. It’s much too late to turn back now, he was well past the point of salvation, and he haltingly drags his attention down to your chest. Your petite nipples had stiffened in the cool air but it’s as if you don’t even notice. Wasn’t that something a grown woman would be conscious of? He thinks so, or at least he’s pretty sure it is. Apparently it isn’t the sort of thing a dumb baby brain even registers, though, and he reaches out to curiously flick at one.

You gasp, eyes widening slightly. Misplaced hope sears his veins and he watches you intently, holding his breath, but you don’t seem to understand what it is you’re feeling. Your brows furrow as you glance down at yourself and bring a hand up to cover your nipple.

“Oww …”

That certainly wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Or at least it wasn’t the sort of reaction Pornhub had taught him to expect, but it was still something.

“Baby.” He grumbles, reaching for the opposite tit.

“Mm’not!”

“Are too. Didn’t that feel good?”

“No!”

“Then you’re winning, aren’t you?”

Confusion marches across your face for a moment before understanding dawns. You look quite pleased now as you track the movement of his hand as he carefully pinches your puckered nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it between the pads. He doesn’t get an immediate reaction out of you but the longer he does it the more your lips start to purse. It’s as if you were holding back, determined not to show him that you might be enjoying it and risk losing the game, but it’s enough to embolden him.

His ministrations pick up and he gives your delicate little teat a mild twist. There’s no malice or cruelty behind the action. He just wants to see what you’ll do. And you don’t disappoint, the way you jump and your mouth flies open as if to squawk making his stomach clench with something perverse. You catch yourself at the last second though, teeth clacking together as your gaze flits up at him to see if he’s looking.

He is, of course, and you forcibly swallow the sound you’d almost let out. Tomura is a bit disappointed, sure. He’d wanted to hear how pretty you’d moan for him but there were still plenty of other chances for him to coerce at least one out of you.

Hunching over your prone body, he brings his other hand up to latch onto the opposite nipple, the one he’d previously flicked. You wince at the contact but make no move to stop him, biting down on your lower lip to keep quiet as you watch him play with your fat tits in petulant silence. It was ass backwards in so many ways. He’d thought, despite everything, his first time with a girl would be somewhat normal. Maybe not picture perfect or all that good when everything was said and done, but at least relatively mundane. This was the farthest thing from that though. He couldn’t conceive of a more wildly abnormal scenario even if he’d tried, nor did he recall ever seeing any porn with this hyper specific set up. But there was still some sick, twisted part of him that was deriving pleasure from this decidedly unorthodox encounter with the opposite sex, and that feeling only grows exponentially the more he keeps going.

Kneading, pinching, squeezing, tugging. He doesn’t let up until your nipples are flushed dark and straining hard, the glistening hint of tears at the corners of your eyes telling him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was getting somewhere. The urge to call you a crybaby swells in his chest again but he doesn’t want to risk another tantrum. He wasn’t so sure his cock could handle it, particularly not when he’d positioned himself over you in such a way that one solid kick would put him out of commission for the foreseeable future. No, this was a delicate situation that required the utmost care on his part and, gathering his nerves, he swoops down to cover one of the stiff buds with his mouth.

The heated gasp that bursts out of you in a great woosh has him groaning into the meaty swell of your tit. You shudder underneath him, involuntarily twitching as he traces your areola with the tip of his tongue and laves it in warm, wet attention. He can tell that you’re not sure what to do so he waits with bated breath, reveling in the fleshy nub pinched between his lips. There was no reason for him not to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment he could get out of this while he could, after all - but then your hands find his hair, threading into wavy locks, and he throbs for you.

“Tomu-nii …”

He practically sinks into you, damn near suffocating himself in the plushy swell of your breast. His mouth opens wide and sucks more of you past his lips, suckling enthusiastically just like the infant you were programmed to be. This particular role reversal doesn’t even seem to register in your mind though and he seethes when you tug at his hair, trying to pull him off.

“St-aaahp …. I don’t like it!”

Tomura comes up off you with a wet gasp. “Bullshit.” He practically growls, narrowing his eyes at your dopey, flustered expression.

“It’s true! I don’t!”

“Oh? Should we check then?”

Your face scrunches and you draw a breath to question him, but he doesn’t give you the chance. Going back up on his knees, he plants one hand against the meat of your inner thigh and shoves it wide. His other darts between your legs before you can react, spindly digits finding your bare cunt and prodding at your folds with rough fingertips. You jolt at the contact but it’s too late. He barely has to touch you to feel the slick oozing out of you and he lets loose a harsh bark of laughter.

“My ass. You’re fucking soaked. You shouldn’t lie, you know.”

“I didn’t!” You gasp, clearly offended by the insinuation. “You’re just a fucking meanie!”

That gives him pause.

Glancing up at your face, Tomura regards you carefully as he tries to figure out his next move. On one hand it was his own fault for saying that word around you so much and it’s not like it was any of his business what you did or didn’t say, but on the other … there was something uncomfortable about hearing that come out of your mouth with such a childish inflection. It lacked any and all bite, not even a hint of impotent aggression to be found. You were just parroting him, that’s all, but for whatever reason he didn’t really appreciate it.

“Don’t say that.” He huffs, turning his attention back to your pussy.

Tomura had wanted to leave it at that, but of course you have to fight him every step of the way.

“Why not?” You ask rather flippantly.

“Because i said so. If you want to get smart, be my guest. I know how to handle bratty little girls like you.”

He’s a bit surprised when that actually shuts you up. Apparently, he was starting to get the hang of this but he still has to sneak a quick peek at you just to make sure. The fact you actually look contemplative, as if you were turning that over in your empty head, almost makes him laugh.

“Do you still want to play?” God, he sorely hoped you did.

You hesitate though, unwilling to give your acquiescence just like that. “When is it my turn?” You ask warily.

“Soon. I’ve got one more chance to make you feel good and then you can try.”

“Mmm … okay. But I’m not gonna’ lose!”

He’s almost certain you would have already lost if you weren’t such a petulant little thing, but he keeps that to himself. Instead, he once again turns his attention to the spot between your legs. Your puffy slit was noticeably wet, the faint sheen of fluid glistening slightly in the overhead light, and he takes a moment to gently part the curls there. Just as he’d thought. Damp to the touch and only getting wetter. He really was going to have to talk to you about lying especially since, in this particular context, you were cheating. This was a far cry from his video games but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Swallowing his reprimand for the time being, though, Tomura carefully presses two fingers into the doughy softness of your labia and spreads them apart. He can see now that you were practically drenched in slick arousal, thin threads of discharge stretching across your petal soft folds before snapping. He gulps down his nerves. You really did have the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen and the fact it was all his for the taking very nearly had him creaming in his pants right then and there. It was almost obscene how bad he wanted to fuck your tampered brains out but he didn’t want to scare you into noncompliance. He wasn’t going to fight for this if he didn’t have to.

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings his other hand close and prods at where he thinks your clit should be. He’d certainly seen them in enough triple X videos to have some idea of where to look, but when all you do is let out a soft sigh he knows he’s mistaken.

His teeth gnash in high strung irritation as he walks his finger lower and then higher, feeling a bit like a blind fool searching for buried treasure. There were so many fleshy ridges and folds that he couldn’t pinpoint the right spot from memory alone, so he has to take his time feeling around instead. He thinks he’s found it for a split second when you shift underneath him, but then he realizes you were simply getting fussy - no doubt bored with all his incessant pawing - and that only angers him further. It shouldn’t have been this damn hard to find!

Impatient now, Tomura roughly swipes his finger up the length of your slit and surprise washes over him when you jolt as if he’d electrocuted you. Your head comes up off the rug and you stare at him, wide eyed, but it was much too late. He’d finally gotten the reaction out of you that he’d been hoping for, and he leans into it with nothing short of devilish delight.

Knowing precisely where to look helps a great deal and it immediately occurs to him that the reason he’d struggled so much is because your clit was still hidden behind its protective hood. But he’s got the advantage now, and he ever so carefully pinches at satiny soft skin until he can ease it back and expose the sensitive little bud nestled inside. You whimper slightly as he does it, squirming awkwardly on your back as if you could instinctively sense that you might be in a bit of trouble now. It was kind of cute, if he was being totally honest.

“I don’t think I like this game …”

“You will. Trust me.”

Clearly not believing him, you start to open your mouth to complain but he stops you cold with a quick flick of his finger. Your engorged clit jostles against the indelicate contact and you blurt out such a startled sound that he actually glances up to make sure you’re okay. Unsurprisingly, you look a little more flustered now and the panic edging your expression is almost enough to make him reconsider this.

Almost, but not quite.

“What’s the matter?” He goads, dropping his gaze back down to your pussy again. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“I … I don’t …”

“Really? I’m not sure I believe that.”

He does it again, gentler this time. Just a brief tap against the meaty little nub, but it’s enough to make you twitch and try to close your legs from him. Tomura won’t let you back out so easily though and he shifts even closer so he can wedge himself between your thighs to keep them spread. You issue a frustrated, huffy sound that he could only describe as babyish as you try to push up on your elbows, no doubt intending to scuttle away from him. He had to give you credit for being so hard headed even in this infantile state but he was far too invested to quit now.

Letting up his hold on your labia, Tomura directs his fingers lower and wedges three of them into your slit. You freeze, momentarily stunned, and he takes that split second opportunity to feel around for your entrance. It’s not hard to find. Much easier than your clit, at any rate, and he wastes no time wriggling a long digit up inside your body. The penetration is smooth, your guts such a slippery mess that it almost startles him.

You really were a liar.

He suddenly realizes he’s panting. At the same time, he realizes that you don’t appear to be breathing at all. Your expression is about as dumbfounded as it could be, and he dully watches the way you sway in your half upright position. Shellshocked would probably be an appropriate descriptor, and he wets his lips in anticipation.

“Well? Do you like it?”

Your legs flex around his arms and you shake your head. “Nuh … no …”

“If you don’t stop lying to me,” he grumbles. “I’m going to get mad.”

You stiffen, clearly drawing yourself up to challenge that statement just like he’d known you would. It was embarrassing how predictable you could be.

He’s had just about enough of this back and forth though, and he roughly curls his finger upward in search of the spot that would finally shut you up for good. But his efforts only make you more fussy and his patience quickly unravels when you try to twist away from him, wailing in displeasure. He hated that sound and, if you weren’t careful, he’d go right back to hating you too

Grunting, Tomura abandons your clit in favor of latching his hand onto the swell of your thigh and he digs his blunt nails in to keep you still. You actually have the audacity to kick out at him but he puts a stop to that quickly enough by shoving a second finger into your sticky cunt. Just like the first time, it makes you hesitate and he watches your warbling mouth drop open in what he thinks might be pleasure. It’s frustratingly hard to tell with you but, having no other choice, he decides to take it at face value.

Your pussy clicks loudly when he starts pumping into you straight down to the knuckle, the wet squelch almost deafening in his ears. It’s unreasonably hot though, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to commit every little detail to memory. The way your face screws up with a stuttering gasp, the way you squeeze your eyes shut and try to brace against the pressure of his digits driving into you again and again. The way you moan, even when you try not to, is particularly enticing, especially since it’s just as pretty as he’d hoped it would be. The way your legs shake and you threaten to double over, the way he can see you clutching the carpet in a death grip, the way you just seem to get even wetter for him. There was too much to take in all at once but it was also far too erotic to look away from. He really was going to cream his pants at this rate.

Somehow, your honest reaction appears to make up for all the trouble you’d given him up until now and Tomura can feel the wet spot bleeding through his boxer briefs start to grow. He was positive he’d never been harder in all his life. Animalistic and practically slobbering like a rabid dog, he hunches further over your quaking body and pistons into your cunt so vigorously his arm starts to ache. You were wailing for him to stop, crying out for Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, but he doesn’t even slow down. He can’t.

Your cunt just keeps sucking him in deeper on every plunge, gummy walls pulsating around his no doubt pruning fingers so enthusiastically that he’s sure you’re going to cum. He can practically taste it. Tomura wasn't going to stop until you did and, realizing he doesn’t have to hold onto you any longer, he reaches out to roughly shove you down on your back again.

“Are you going to cream for me, princess? Huh?” He grits out through savagely bared teeth. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“No! Please, Tomu-nii … it hurts!”

Even in the heat of the moment he can’t stop himself from clicking his tongue in irritation. “No it doesn’t, you big baby. You love this. I know you do. I can see it written all over your stupid, pretty face. Go on. Tell me exactly how good you feel. Do it!”

Wailing, you peer up at him through heavy lashes with a look so imploring it very nearly gives him pause. “I - I can’t! I’m … Tomu-nii, I’m gonna’ … I’m gonna’ pee!”

“No you aren’t. That just means your clo - -“

Tomura cuts himself off when you do exactly that. He’s almost too stunned to react and all he can do is watch as the steady stream of urine bursts out of you before dribbling down his wrist to soak into the carpet underneath. It’s only now, when you’re pissing all over yourself as well as him, that he finally has the decency to slow his pumping to a staggered halt. For a fleeting moment he actually considers the notion of keeping at it. There wasn’t much else you could do to ruin this for him, after all, but one look at your expression immediately quashes that idea.

He’d be lucky if all he could manage was to stop you from dissolving into ugly, heaving sobs, let alone worry about getting himself off. Dammit. You really were nothing but a pain in his ass.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He deadpans, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt now that he was thoroughly coated in warm, smelly piss. “To be honest I was kind of tired of that rug anyway. And these clothes, too.”

You hiccup so sadly that what little bit of anger had sparked inside him immediately dies out. He couldn’t even be mad at you for this no matter how much he may have wanted to blame you for everything. You’d tried to warn him.

“T- Tomu-nii … mm’sorry …”

Tomura sighs through his nose, hard enough to make the split end tips of his hair shift. “Don't be. That was my fault. Just - let me find something to clean us up with.”

“Do I have to take another bath?” You ask so meekly he almost misses it.

Pausing halfway through the motion of rising to his feet, he glances down at you again. It occurs to him quickly enough that it wasn’t the accident you were so upset about but, rather, the looming possibility of another aggressively meted out trip to the bathroom. Interesting. He’d almost think he was mistaken, it had only happened once, after all, but the way your lower lip wobbles tells him everything he needs to know. Apparently you were more scared of him than you’d let on.

“No, not right now. I think I can get you clean enough with a wet rag or something. You’ll have to take one later but,” Tomura scoffs, hating that he was actually trying to be nice after you’d peed all over him. “I’ll try not to be so rough next time. You just made me mad last night, that’s all.”

You nod slowly, looking like you don’t quite believe that, but still too naively trusting to press the matter. “Okay.”

Nodding once, Tomura climbs to his feet. The inner seam of his pants from the knee down is absolutely soaked and he makes it only three steps before deciding he didn’t like them all that much to begin with. Dropping his hand to the rough denim, he brushes all five fingers across the thigh and they dissolve into nothing without a second thought to the matter. He can faintly hear you ooohing behind him but there were much more important things to worry about than how easily impressed you were.

His half flagged cock throbs hopefully inside his boxer briefs and he reaches down to delicately adjust himself. God, he’d be aching for the next week thanks to your uncontrollable bladder.

An idea pops into his head with that thought. You weren’t the only thing he’d been saddled with yesterday, and he turns to regard the thick gym bag he’d previously thrown against the far wall in anger. It’s where he’d gotten your pink onesie after you’d similarly soiled the first pair of clothes you’d been wearing. He hadn’t bothered to look through all of its contents just yet, but he felt relatively confident he’d find what he wanted in there.

Circling back around, Tomura squats in front of the bag and yanks it open. He can feel your eyes watching him from your spot on the floor but he pays it no mind. Digging inside, he pulls out a few more articles of clothing, far too cutesy for his tastes, and then a book on child care that he knows for certain was put there in jest. Over his shoulder it gets chucked, and he digs deeper. Down at the very bottom he finds exactly what he’d been looking for.

But in addition to the baby wipes there are two other items that catch his attention. He outright balks at the very notion - however, realistically speaking, it could very well be the answer to his problems. At least the most pressing one, anyway.

The idea that All for One knew he’d likely run into this issue but still decided to dump you on him anyway bothers Tomura a great deal and he frowns even as he looks over the packaging. Diapers and pull ups. What was the difference? He’s not so sure there is one, and he feels almost certain that they serve the same purpose. But further inspection proves him wrong. One was for a total lack of control and the other was for the potty training stage, so not as thick or absorbent. That’s what the packing said but, at any rate, they definitely weren't the plain adult brands he was looking at here.

These were bright and colorful, and he can’t help but cringe at the thought of putting you in either of them. But he was still left with a very real concern that he simply couldn’t overlook. The fact he even had to make this decision at all was ridiculous but he couldn’t very well have you pissing on every available surface in his room. And given your track record of absolutely drenching whatever you happened to be sitting on at the time …

Hesitantly, Tomura takes out the diapers and shuffles towards his unkempt bed. The print on the back wasn't particularly clear about what to do with them. He’d probably have to look up a tutorial later, when he wasn’t feeling quite so downtrodden and his balls weren’t aching, though that would certainly put him on a few watch lists. Not that it really mattered.

He sighs and tosses the package on top of his sheets before tearing into the baby wipes. Taking his time, he methodically scrubs his wrist and his legs clean while he contemplates his next move. It wasn’t going to be pretty. It certainly wasn’t going to be sexy. It was still probably the lesser of two evils, though. Far be it that he wanted to go this route but did he really even have any other choice at this point?

“Tomu-nii …”

Your soft whining draws him back to reality and, abruptly realizing you’ve been sitting in your own piss this entire time, he turns to look back at you. For a split second, he seriously considers just killing you right then and there. It would save him a lot of trouble and you wouldn’t even realize what was coming. You were so stupid you’d probably think he was going in for a hug or something asinine like that. He’d be doing you a favor, really, because as far as he was concerned, death was certainly preferable to wearing diapers but … the urge fizzles out almost as quickly as it had appeared. He wasn’t going to let you slip out of his hold until after he’d gotten to bury himself in that tight, pretty little pussy of yours.

Decision made, Tomura makes his way over to the carpet again. You look cold, which doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, and he bends down to grab the meat of your upper arms so he can drag you up to your feet. “Come on. I think I’ve got a solution.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “Salution?”

“Close enough.”

Steering you over to the bed, he makes you bend over the mattress so he can take a baby wipe to the backs of your thighs and ass. Luckily, depending on how you looked at it, the urine had run down rather than going every which direction so it was pretty easy to clean up. The way you tremble and shift your weight back and forth makes it a bit more difficult than it needed to be but he manages, somehow.

Tomura straightens after a long moment, finally deeming the back of you good to go. He’s not so sure he can get through this next part when you were fidgeting so much, though, and he briefly considers the clothes in the gym bag. The thought of putting you in another girly, saccharine sweet garment repulses him almost as much as the thought of putting you in a diaper. But he was going to have to pick and choose his battles here and, reaching back, he delicately tugs off his t-shirt.

“Turn around.”

You slowly comply, teeth chattering the whole time.

“Arms up.”

At this, you hesitate. But at his expectantly bland look, you do as you're told and raise your arms up in the air. The lift of your heavy tits almost successfully distracts him and it is with a great deal of self control on his part that he pulls his shirt down over your head, yanking it a little too forcefully into place.

“There.” He practically hisses, watching you clumsily work your arms through the sleeves. “Is that better?”

You think about that for a moment, eyes scanning across the front of his shirt, and he briefly wonders if you’re going to say something derisive about the worn video game logo stretched across your chest. But then you smile, nodding your head a little too enthusiastically.

“Mm! It smells like Tomu-nii!”

He really couldn’t stand you.

“Good. In return, I’ll need you to cooperate with me here. I’ve never done this before, you know?”

You blink at him quizzically. “Done what?”

Tomura rolls his eyes, feeling grumpier by the second. He couldn’t wait to get this over with and have you situated so he could run off to the bathroom for what probably wouldn’t even amount to five minutes of desperate jerking. “Never mind. Just do what I tell you, okay?”

You nod your head again, but he has some very real doubts about that. Even when you were pretending to go along with whatever it was he wanted you still found some way to fuck everything up for him. If this scheme somehow backfired because your brain was so scrambled you couldn’t even follow simple directions, he was not going to be happy.

Mentally bracing himself for the worst possible outcome, he reaches for the diapers. He rips the bag open almost violently and pulls one out, but it feels even more wrong in his hands than he’d thought it would. A strange sense of scandalized affront warms his chest, making him reconsider this choice for the upteenth time. If Tomura was being completely honest, he felt embarrassed for you but a quick glance in your direction proves that you don’t share quite the same sentiment. You really couldn’t have cared less, huh?

Right. Baby brain.

He grumbles under his breath as he non too gently snaps the diaper open with a loud crinkle of plastic and lays it out close to the edge of his bed. Motioning you closer, Tomura awkwardly helps you get seated on the damn thing and then instructs you to lay down. You genuinely don’t seem to have a problem with this as you recline back, just placidly peering up at him with your little fists balled in the hem of his shirt, but now that he’s gotten this far he’s not sure how to proceed.

At a loss, he takes another baby wipe out of the package and inserts himself between your bent legs. “I’m going to clean you some more, okay?” He's not sure why he’s telling you that, especially when all you do is nod your dopey head in understanding. Just buying time. That’s all he was doing.

But it gives him a chance to think and for that he’s grateful. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to figure out what All for One’s intention with all this had been. ‘A splendid birthday present for my favorite pupil’, he’d said, as if there were any others. But what was the reason? Surely you weren’t actually supposed to be a sex slave for him. Not in this sorry state. His battered onahole did a much better job on that front and it wasn’t prone to tantrums or crying, and it certainly didn’t pee on his stuff. It also didn’t require more than a perfunctory cleaning every few months. He couldn’t very well shove you into his nightstand and forget about it until the next time he was in the mood to rut into something.

All that was true, yes, but … his onahole also wasn’t warm to the touch, and it didn’t have soft, curly hair framing its abused slit (he really should buy a new one) nor did it self lubricate. It didn’t squeeze him quite the same way your pussy had squeezed his fingers, and it didn’t even really feel like an actual vagina now that he had something to compare it to. You were soft and squishy, pliable in the way only flesh and blood could be, and although he had no way of knowing if this had been All for One’s plan or not, he was certainly self aware enough to recognize that he’d screwed up somewhere along the line.

Tomura absolutely should have turned you to dust while he still had the chance.

Licking his lips, he drags the wipe through the seam of your cunt much more slowly than he needed to. You don’t even stir on the bed, and he thinks you must be starting to doze after … all of that. He’s not quite ready to leave well enough alone yet though, and he gently presses down on the spot where he now knows your clit is hiding. Still using the moist towelette as a pretense to keep touching you like this, he circles the sensitive little bud with it and genuine surprise washes over him when you let out a soft, pleasant sigh.

He glances up at your face but you aren’t even looking at him, lashes fanned out against the apples of your cheeks. It’s hard to tell if you were actually asleep or just pretending so you could lull him into a false sense of security, yet he doesn’t particularly care one way or another. You were his so he could do whatever he wanted to you, right? Besides. You kind of owed him after pissing all over his hand like that.

Discarding the baby wipe, Tomura bends closer and carefully spreads your labia again. He could see your little hole weakly palpitating, beckoning him to pick back up where he’d left off, but he drags his gaze a bit higher instead. You were so velvety soft and smooth it bordered on insane, so much more inviting than he ever would have thought possible.

He briefly hesitates before throwing caution aside and sealing his lips around your clit, gently mouthing at it. Your plushy thighs twitch around his head as you shift on top of the mattress, letting out another breathy sound that rushes straight to his cock. It almost hurts, the way it so eagerly springs back to life after being denied something as simple as release, but he can’t find it in himself to complain. You were giving him another chance, knowingly or not, and he wasn’t the type to squander such an opportunity.

Tomura takes his time lapping at you over the next few minutes until you’re almost as wet as when he’d started. You taste heavenly even with the artificial flavor of the wipes clinging to your folds and he entertains the notion of eating you out until you cum all over his face. There’s something he wants even more than that, though, and he sighs in relief when he finally straightens up so he can fish his cock out. It was almost painfully sensitive to the touch, and he could feel it throbbing potently in his hand. He knew this probably wasn’t going to last long but he didn’t care.

Guiding himself to your waiting entrance, he slowly pushes in one fraction at a time, damn near blowing his load the second his glans disappears into your body. He holds back though, struggling to maintain his composure as he seethes through gritted teeth. You finally seemed to realize that something was going on and your pretty eyes flutter open, immediately searching out his face.

“Tomu-nii …?”

“Be quiet. I’ve got you.”

You accept that in lieu of an explanation surprisingly fast, at least by his standards, and without another word you sleepily glance down at the juncture where your bodies were connected. A slow inhale makes your chest rise, mouth falling open as if to groan. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” the sound rattles out of Tomura’s chest as he slides in right down to the base, toes flexing against the floor. “I’m not even gonna’ get to enjoy this.”

Brows knitting together, you let out the softest mewling sound he’s ever heard and it makes him dig his carefully poised fingers deeper into the meat of your hips. He can’t even bring himself to move, so overwhelmed by how soft and wet your guts are. It felt like you were massaging his length, involuntarily or not, as your pussy suckles at the tip like he’s almost positive your mouth would.

Softly wheezing, Tomura drops his chin to look at where the two of you were stuck together. His pelvis was so flush against yours that your pudgy cunt was molded to the front of him, squishing under the pressure, and his silvery pubes were tangled with your darker ones. He hadn’t expected such a sight to be so damn erotic and it has him twitching, fighting back the orgasm he’d gone through hell and back for.

He’s almost scared to do it but, slowly, he eases back. The way his cock gradually reappears, glistening obscenely now, very nearly sends him over the edge. He isn’t sure how he hasn’t ruptured yet, his ballsac drawn so tight and throbbing that it leaves him feeling lightheaded, but through sheer force of will alone he manages to sink back into the inviting heat of your body without spraying your insides white. His self control was tentative as best, hanging on by a mere thread, but you felt far too good to waste on a quick nut.

“Goddamn … you’re so tight, baby. So fucking tight.”

You fidget underneath him, fussily tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Mm’ not a baby …”

Your pouty little response is enough to make him bark out a clipped laugh, more breathless than amused. You could insist you weren’t a baby all you wanted but, even putting aside the cruel, infantile reprogramming of your brain, it was hard to think otherwise when you were spread out on top of a diaper. It’s stark white, cottony lining was an almost unsettling backdrop to the perfect view he had of his cock stuttering in and out of your slick cunt. Even when he was barely moving, it crinkled softly underneath you with each rocking motion of his hips and he couldn’t quite forget it was there no matter how hard he tried.

Tomura wasn’t sure what he would ultimately do with you and he knew even less why he was even entertaining this wildly absurd situation to begin with, but there was no denying that you did have some use. The clinging grip of your pussy, for starters, and if he could get that bratty mouth of yours under control he might even some day find your company bearable. He still didn’t particularly like you but it wasn’t so farfetched to think that he might be able to tolerate you, with enough effort.

Hissing through his teeth, he drags one of his hands down to spread your puffy lips apart and get a good look at the way your petal soft folds clutch to his cock. It was a mesmerizing visual in the worst possible way, especially when accompanied by the soft, wet clicking he pulls from your body. He could have watched this for hours on end but, realistically, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he gives his wrist a brief twist to bring the middle finger down on your clit.

You twitch at the contact but Tomura takes a much more gentle approach this time, sedately drawing circles around the swollen bud. He doesn’t get much in the way of a reaction for his trouble so he just keeps at it, rubbing you in tandem with his staggered thrusts. The thought of making you cum around his cock is almost disturbingly enticing, but he isn’t so sure he can accomplish that. Not when so much of his focus was devoted to simply biting back his orgasm - but then, to his throbbing surprise, you draw a faltering breath.

“Tomu-nii … feels good …”

It’s as if the air had been punched right out of him. He isn't so sure he even believes his own ears, the blood suddenly pounding inside of them making it hard to hear much of anything. He groans though, thick and heavy as he slides his other hand up across your stomach to push at the bottom of his shirt. Your grip on the soft cotton momentarily tightens, still fighting him at every turn, but you give in almost immediately and allow him to shove it over the swell of your tits.

They’re moving, jiggling ever so slightly with the push and pull of his narrow hips as they quietly slap against the backs of your thighs. Tomura heaves, practically doubling over you with another throaty moan that rises in pitch at the tail end. His palm descends on one of your breasts, squeezing hard enough that the pliable flesh bulges and spills out between four of his fingers. You just stare up at him the entire time, face pinched and flushed while your glistening eyes dreamily watch him with a far off sort of quality that he’s sure must be - has to be pleasure.

He’d never seen anything sexier in his whole life, and that thought alone is far more terrifying than he could have ever guessed it would be. There was something wrong with you, yes, by All for One’s design. But there was something even more inherently wrong with him for getting off on this so much and without the added bonus of quirk tampering to excuse his behavior. You were so sweet and unfairly innocent despite your seductive figure, the sight of you naked save his bunched up t-shirt driving him absolutely wild. It was like you belonged here, with him, in his bed. It wasn’t that he no longer wanted to kill you but that he couldn’t.

What little bit of self control he’d still been clinging to up until now shatters, and Tomura snaps his hips into your upturned ass: once, twice, three times. The sticky squelching between your bodies increases in volume, echoing inside his skull like a ricocheting bullet as he watches your face screw up at the sudden force. It doesn’t even matter though. He’s long since reached his limit and, with a wounded grunt, he slams into you one final time, lurching over your prone body.

The sound that comes out of his mouth as he shudders and violently paints your pink guts is, frankly, embarrassing. But he’s riding a high too great to care, clinging to you hard enough to make his joints ache and you whimper in discomfort. He can’t stop though. He’s cumming so hard, pulse after pulse, that it feels like his soul actually slips out of his body for a worryingly long beat before returning in fragmented pieces. The same, but also somehow different. Like he’d experienced rebirth in the warm, comforting clutch of your drenched cunt.

He wheezes as if he’d been stabbed in the chest when he finally eases his softening cock out of you some time later.

Tomura was completely spent, both physically and mentally. His wobbly legs could hardly support his weight anymore but, with a strength of mind he hadn’t even realized he possessed, he directs a shaky finger to your clit again. You squirm in response, huffing after that rough treatment, but he soothes you with hushed words and a gentle touch to the delicate little pearl he barely even needs to brush against to have you shaking for him.

“Relax. You feel good, don’t you? Let me hear those pretty sounds again, baby.”

Obstinately, you purse your lips together to deny him even that one simple request. Tomura heaves a tired sigh, wishing you weren’t such a brat, but he doesn’t let up. The gentle circles he rubs into your clit with the pad of his finger slowly brings you around though, grudgingly, and he can’t quite deny the satisfaction that sparks in his throat when your mouth warbles open to let loose the sweetest, tiny moan he’s ever heard.

“Nngh … Tomu-nii …!”

“Don't fight it. I want you to feel good too, yknow.” He pauses, tongue glancing over his dry lips. “Will you cum for me, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, eyes screwing shut, but the way your body continues to tense up seems to suggest otherwise. He could tell you were practically thrumming with it, burning from the inside out even as his milky white discharge slowly oozes down your slit to pool in the seat of the diaper. It was unexpectedly exciting to watch, disproportionately naughty given how utterly unappealing the crinkly plastic was at first glance, and he picks up the pace of his rubbing.

“I think you’re lying again. You liked how it felt when I was inside you, right? This will be even better, I promise. You’ll love it. I know you will.”

Weakly writhing on top of his bed, you crack your eyes open to peer up at him again. “T - Tomu-nii … I can’t … ahh. Ahh. Ahh! I … I’m … ahh! Tomu-niiiii!”

You suddenly jerk, tossing your head back against the sheets, and he watches in rapt fascination as you quake so hard it nearly catches him off guard. It wasn’t the seductive, rolling tremors he was used to seeing in porn videos but, rather, a full bodied spasm that had you twisting as if to get away. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his hand but he elbows them apart, refusing to let up until he’d milked your orgasm as thoroughly as you’d milked his.

And you looked so pretty, too. Caught up in mind numbing pleasure so intense he couldn’t even begin to fathom what you were feeling. Even his own earth shattering release seemed to pale in comparison to this, and it takes you much longer to start coming down from it than it did him.

Your hair is a mess by the time you’re done, matted in some places and sticking to your damp forehead in others. For a fleeting moment, Tomura can almost see the adult woman you should have been when your face goes slack in ecstasy and your flushed lips were parted to suck in as much oxygen as you could get. He imagines you were probably no stranger to pleasures of the flesh, not with that body and those looks, so the thought that he could make you feel this good was a bit like a pat on the back for him. It was probably just beginners luck, but that didn’t stop him from feeling any less proud of himself.

Slowly, he takes his hands off you and steps back. The spot between your legs was absolutely covered in fluid, your sticky, copious slick mixing with his spunk to make a truly viscous concoction that clung to your damp curls. He thinks that he should probably clean you up again and reaches for the baby wipes, but stops himself short.

The idea that crosses his mind is very likely foul, perhaps even more offensive than anything else he’d done til now, but … a quick glance at your sloppy pussy proves too great a temptation. There was something inherently erotic about making you walk around with his semen dripping out of you, even if it was only going to be absorbed by the diaper, and he shuffles close again with his heart in his throat.

Tomura hasn’t the slightest clue what he’s doing and it takes him a long moment to figure out the tape tabs on the sides. He gets frustrated halfway through the process, struggling to make sure the crinkly plastic was secure enough around your waist, but by some miracle you stay relatively still through all of his fumbling. He isn’t quite sure how he got so lucky but he doesn’t stop to question it, hawkishly focusing all of his attention on the task at hand.

At length, he straightens to admire his work. It’s not perfect by any means but he’s pretty sure the damned thing wasn’t going to fall off as soon as you stood up so there was that. The diaper itself was just as obnoxiously girly as everything else in the gym bag; a soft, lilac purple with a flowery, cartoon bunny design on them. He didn’t mind the rabbits so much, and it was certainly preferable to the onesie, but he still thought you’d look nice in something a bit cooler.

The realization that he was thinking about this in such quaint, fuzzy terms chills Tomura to the bone, and his gaze flicks to your face so he can ask what you think of them. Even if only to distract himself from his own uncomfortably perverse change of heart.

But you were already asleep. He probably should have expected as much, and he could tell you were actually snoozing this time by the shallow, even rise and fall of your chest. A strange sense of embarrassment washes over him and he reaches out to delicately take the hem of his shirt between thumb and finger so he can tug it back down into place. You only snuggle further into the mattress though, getting comfortable, and further cementing the notion that he had, indeed, fucked up.

He’d never be able to get rid of you now.

Grumbling under his breath, Tomura leans over you with one hand braced on the mattress. The other slips between your legs, unable to squeeze shut now with the bulk of the diaper between them, and ever so carefully cups his palm over your crotch. It was cool to the touch, but if he pushed down hard enough he could feel the warmth of your body bleeding through. You let out a quiet huff in response, petulant towards him even in your sleep, and he can’t quite stop himself from laughing. It was absurd. It was strange. It was strikingly, unequivocally weird, but he was almost glad he hadn’t disintegrated you or strangled you to death.

This wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d wished for a woman he could do with as he pleased and not have to worry about her running away, but … it was close enough, he supposed.

[ultralovedeluxe]

Yandere! Josuke with prompts #5 and #69

Hey everyone! This was requested by @mochimizuki121. I apologize for this taking so long, I’ve never written for Josuke and I think he came out a bit ooc, I hope this came out nicely though. Requests are still open!

‘Just what do you think you’re doing? Put that phone down!’

‘They thought they could tear us apart, so I had to put a stop to them!’

Warnings: 18 year old Josuke, female reader, yandere behaviors, mentions of violence?, non/dub con, nsfw towards the end.

  Cherry blossoms are meant to symbolize good fortune and represent love. Love should be the primary emotion you should feel when under a cherry blossom tree. So when you asked Josuke to meet you under a cherry blossom tree near the school, Josuke was ecstatic. Why else would his lovely, little girlfriend ask him to meet under a cherry blossom tree? To Josuke, these meanings had to be true. He was a firm believer.

 You, however, not so much.

 In fact, cherry blossoms have a double meaning. Cherry blossoms also represent death or the end of something. And sadly, this was the only meaning accurate to you.

 “So [first]-chan, why did you invite me here? Is it something important?” Josuke could hardly contain his excitement, it had to be great. Was he finally going to meet your parents? Were you both going on a date together? Were you finally going to let him-

 “Josuke, I’m glad you came, and yes it is very important..” you said trying not to just yell at your pompadour-haired boyfriend. His puppy-dog expression was starting to get to you, and in all realness, making this a lot harder than it was supposed to be. 

 “So, what is it babe? C’mon you can’t keep me waiting, I want to know!”

 You grit your teeth, god this really is going to be hard. You almost feel nauseous in doing so. You are going to wound his boyish pride so bad right now, but you know it’s for the best, hell it was for your well-being.

 “Please just listen to me Josuke. I..I want to break up” you said, trying not to mumble any words; you wanted him to hear you loud and clear, even though to some extent it hurt you too. It just had to be done. You couldn’t be in this relationship anymore. 

 Josuke wanted to believe that you said something else, you HAD to have said something else. You didn’t want to break up with him, you were just confused right? No..he swore he’d done everything right. He was a good boyfriend, he asked his mom for advice, he asked Jotaro for advice, where or what did he do wrong? Josuke tried hard to let his lip wobble at the news, let alone cry.

 “Was it something I did? Please tell me, is it because I’m overbearing? I promise I’ll try my best to be better! I-I’ll get rid of my video games if I have to, please [first] don’t leave me-” Josuke pleaded with you, but you couldn’t have this conversation much longer. “I’m sorry Josuke, we can still be friends..I just can’t be with you anymore, I hope you understand” you said walking away from the tree and Josuke. It hurt, but you knew this was the right descion. At the moment though, you didn’t want to face the male; you wanted to avoid him as much as possible.

 Josuke however, felt devastated, betrayed almost. How could you have ended your relationship you had? He had been a good boyfriend right? Did you find someone else? No, you couldn’t have, you loved him, you were just getting confused at the moment. You must be getting brainwashed or something. He felt Crazy Diamond manifest behind him, and he gripped his fist.  He will get to the bottom of this. He will find out who gave you the idea that he was a bad partner. You just don’t understand how much he loves you. ‘No, please don’t leave me [first]’

-

 “So did you do it?”

 You looked over to your classmate, Rikka asked almost desperately. “Of course I did, but I still feel awful about it..Is- Is it true that he’s a thug?” you mumbled sensing a feeling of dread just thinking about it. You loved Josuke, but if what your friend was saying was true, you couldn’t possibly stay with him much longer. In fact, Rikka wasn’t the only girl who warned you about Josuke. “Come on [first]-chan, haven’t you noticed the way he dresses? Only delinquents dress like that. Not to mention the hair” she told you, mumbling the final part (since it’s known that Josuke hates when people insult his hair). You shook your head, “Thank you so much for telling me Rikka-chan, I don’t know what I’ve done if my parents caught me dating a thug. But..I really did love Josuke..”

 Rikka gave you an an assertive smile, “Don’t worry [first], there’s other guys here in school. I’m sure there’s at least two who have a thing for you, you’ll get over Higashikata-san eventually, now come on it’s almost time for class” she said picking up her bag and walking towards the lockers. You smiled and nodded in response. “I’ll meet you there just let me get my pen, I left it in my purse” you said walking towards her. “You’re always so forgetful!” Rikka joked.

 Not far from the lockers, Josuke was standing there, listening to every word that came from your mouth. “Oi Okuyasu, what’s that girl’s name?” Josuke asked his fellow stand user and friend. “That’s Minamino Rikka, I think I have a few classes with her. She’s kinda cute no?” Okuyasu said walking back to the classroom they were in. ‘Not as cute as my [first]-chan’ Josuke thought as he tried to contain his anger. He wasn’t completely mad at you, he was more mad at that ‘Rikka’ for getting those sick thoughts into your head. He wasn’t a ‘thug’, he was a good guy! In fact he was the perfect boyfriend for you. He was sure you knew it too, you were just getting fed lies. Maybe he’d have to teach that girl a lesson for messing with his darling..

-

 “I heard you dumped Josuke, he’s a drag huh. You should go out with a real man. So how about it [first]-chan? Wanna go on a date with me?”

 You knew who this was. This was Fungami Yuya, he wasn’t exactly a heartthrob, but he did have his fair share of fans. However, you knew he wasn’t good news, despite how charming he looked. You had heard from Josuke that he was a motorcycle gang member, right off the bat you have to refuse. “I’m sorry Yuya, we don’t know each other very well, and besides-” you tried to just waltz your way out of the situation, but Yuya persisted. “Please [first]-chan, give me a chance, I genuinely want to ask you to-” 

 “What the hell are you doing near my girlfriend?!”

 You looked back at the entrance of the classroom to see Josuke, already fuming with anger. You never liked it when Josuke got angry, you always felt like whoever the person he was getting angry at was in complete danger. Not to mention you always feel like there’s another presence in the room when he does get angry. “Josuke please!-”

 Soon, the space between Josuke and Yuya got smaller, “Are you asking for a fight? What gives you the right to talk to my girlfriend that way? She’s taken. Plus where are your groupies anyway?” Josuke asked, but at this point, he was close to just beat him up with Crazy Diamond.

 “I’ll handle this doll-” Yuya muttered to you while placing a quick kiss on your forehead, before going back to facing Josuke. “Josuke, what’s the deal? You two aren’t together anymore, everyone knows it-”

 “Don’t let history repeat itself Yuya. You know what I can do to you. You wouldn’t want to go back to the hospital again would you?” by that point, Crazy Diamond had already manifested itself behind Josuke, and it’s glare was quite terryfying. Yuya gulped at the sight of the other stand, before leaving the classroom you were in. You wanted to leave the room as well, but before you could even get up from your seat on your own terms, Josuke had already dragged you across the hall.

 “Josuke! Let me go! You’re hurting me! I thought we weren’t together anymore!” you squeeled trying to get someone’s attention. It didn’t seem like anyone would hear you though, because Josuke had shoved you into one of the unused bathroom stalls. “Shut your whore mouth. We are together, you didn’t mean to break up with me right? It was just that people kept lying to you about me..” he said in a rather harsh tone before quieting down. Truth be told, you were scared. This wasn’t the Josuke you fell in love with. “I don’t.. I-you hurt me [first]. When you broke up with me, I was heartbroken. But when I found out that Rikka and those other girls were feeding you lies, I knew I had to protect you. They tried to tear us apart, so I put a stop to them” Josuke said holding you in place.

 “What the hell are you talking about? What did you do to them?” actually, you didn’t want to find out. Right now you had to get away from Josuke. You kicked him below the belt and ran from the bathroom. You didn’t even know where you were running to, as long as it was away from Josuke, you felt safe. You locked yourself in a gym closet, you just had to buy some time. There was only a few more minutes before school ended, you just had to be patient. You pulled out your cellphone and tried to dial your mother’s phone number.

 “Just what do you think you’re doing? Put that phone down now! Now you’re seriously going to get it” you heard Josuke right across from you. How did he find you so quickly? You were sure you had locked the door. It doesn’t matter now because your phone was snatched from your hands by none other than your ex-boyfriend. Although you knew it was useless, you tried to crawl away because panic and fear ran thorough your mind. 

 “Why are you trying to run away from me [first], I’m just doing this because I love you so much. How about I show you how much I love you” Josuke said holding you by the hips, getting you closer to him. You tried to release yourself from his grasp, “No! Josuke please I don’t want this! I don’t want this relationship! Please!” you tried to reason with him. but it seems you made him even more angrier. “I really wanted you to enjoy this, but I guess you want a punishment instead..” he growled making you face him. This really wasn’t the Josuke you once loved, this was a monster.  He then used Crazy Diamond to rip open your clothes..

-

 Loud moans and gasps filled the small closet you and Josuke where in. You were fully naked, while he had his pants down. Josuke left red marks on your hips from where his nails kept digging into your skin. You felt drool drip down your mouth as Josuke kept thrusting into you at a inhuman speed. “You see..this is why you shouldn’t try to break up with me. I know you still love me. You won’t ever leave me after this” Josuke groaned into your ear while kissing your neck roughly. You only moaned in response, you felt like if he didn’t stop now, you were going to pass out. You wanted to hate him, oh how desperately you wanted to hate him. However, there was no denying how good he’s making you feel. “Josuke..please I’m close” you gasped as you clinged onto him. “Yes! Yes [first] let it all out! Let me know how good I made you feel!” He said, his thrusts getting more sloppy and impatient. 

 Not even a few moments after, you climaxed, with Josuke following soon after. You were gently placed on the floor by none other than Josuke. You were completely exhausted, you just wanted to go home. “You were amazing [first], I hope you remember this moment. Don’t ever run from me okay?” he said laying next to you. He placed one final kiss on your lips.

“I love you..”