#and for how little time it actually takes to learn

[bee-whistler]

I understand that he later regretted the film, once the truth about the Holocaust was known. I hope he died understanding that there was nothing to regret.

The humor in the movie was either centered around the barber’s complete unawareness of the atrocities that had been taking place (he’d been hospitalized since WWI head trauma and had finally recovered and been released) or were direct and savage mockeries of the dictators and their lackeys.

The way the Nazis were portrayed (in this case though, the swastika and the name of their party was The Double Cross, lol, as seen on his armband) was very much in line with what would have been seen in the cities at that time. There’s a brief view of a prison camp that was of course far nicer than the reality, but the rest is actually not bad.

Fact is, if you look at this film and think that his interpretation was far less brutal than the truth, it only damns the Nazis more. Even with the humorous aspects, this film portrays a level of cruelty and injustice that is already so starkly and obviously wrong to the eyes of any decent and civilized society that you’d wonder how it isn’t in fact exaggerating the truth.

To then find out that it’s almost the child-friendly version of what really happened should be enough to tell you that Nazis were the darkest and lowest of humanity. Fascism is thuggery, cruelty, hate and cold blooded murder, portraying human beings as disposable and harmful in order to gain power and wealth and control over masses who have been convinced that there is an enemy in every man, woman and little child of another group of living, breathing human beings. Fascism tells you that only it can protect you, that the sacrifice of freedom to their authority is in fact a choice you made to protect the people, land and principles that you love. Fascism is a large and elaborate con game.

The principles I most love include liberty for all, humanity for all. And I love this movie so much, for the humor, the innocence, the sharp wit and unrestrained ridicule of those dictators for what they really were… petty conmen who figured out the right dog whistles to control countries. They weren’t great, weren’t special… just convincing, morally bankrupt liars who happened to be at the right place at the right time.

And that’s something we’re seeing a lot of today. Here’s hoping that the inherent resistance of the American spirit to kings and monarchs will be enough to keep them from taking total control, because clearly more than half the country is slow to learn. After all, half of all people have below average intelligence.

Sorry, I’m passionate about movies and about current events! But yeah… Chaplin created a masterpiece, and I just hope someone told him so while they could.

Because someone is on the ball, Turner Classic is playing (among other WWII films) The Great Dictator today.

If you haven't seen it, please do. It was produced by Charlie Chaplin in the late 1930s, when it became clear that the war was going to happen, and came out in 1940 after it had started. Essentially, Chaplin realized that his famous mustache was about to be usurped forever by a fascist, and that fascist was going to kill a lot more people in the future than he had already.

It's a parody, made before the worst horrors of the Nazi regime were known to the general public, so there is discomfort here (if you've seen Disney's Der Fuhrer's Face, you'll get the idea), but the movie ends with Chaplin essentially saying "fuck it, no one else seems to be speaking out about this and I'm going to use my platform to do that."

For context, this character is a Jew who has been mistaken for the dictator (for obvious mustache-related reasons), and has been sent onstage at a rally to give a speech. Instead of trying to impersonate Hitler, he says what he really thinks. And keep in mind, Chaplin was coming out of semi-retirement for this. It was the first time most people had ever heard him speak, and this is what he said:

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when gojo has a crush on geto's childhood best friend (pt. 2)

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ೃ⁀➷ notes: please read part one here. my baby boy is so sweet and sincere when he's love, even though it's doesn't always come across that way x

ೃ⁀➷ tags: angst and fluff; unrequited(ish) love; pining; hurt/comfort

♡ satoru gojo was not your type. he was cocky, arrogant, obnoxious, childish and a slew of other things that you found deeply unattractive in a man his age. he somehow always manages to take everything just a little too far for your liking. his extroverted persona a bit too overwhelming for you. suguru went on and on about him, but you really couldn't see the appeal. nor could you understand what drew suguru so deeply to him.

♡ okay, maybe he's just awkward, you think. after watching this tall, muscular man walk directly into a closed door mid-conversation. he banged his face so hard against it, he made a funny noise, and you had to suppress a laugh. "are you okay?" you asked concerned, and the man simply grumbled a yes as his cheeks turned a bright pink. it's the first time you saw him blush, and your heart fluttered at the sight.

♡ "look, I know he can be a lot, but you know he's my best friend. other than you, he's the only person I would give my life for," suguru stated honestly. you were both conversing over a tub of ice cream. you were sitting cross legged on the sofa, digging your spoon into the ice cream angrily. satoru made an inappropriate joke in front of everyone that humiliated you. you did not appreciate it one bit. you rolled your eyes and left in a bitter mood. suguru stopped by your place with the ice cream trying to console you.

♡ satoru's face visibly falls when you reject hanging out with him for a movie. two tickets in his hand that he pinches together. it was his way of apologizing apparently, but you were not going to entertain the idea of spending anytime alone with him. "look," you respond with a sigh, "I forgive you, okay? but I'm busy tonight.". it seems your follow up sparked something inside him. he lifts up his face, a small smile highlighting those annoyingly handsome features. "wait, so we are cool? you aren't mad about what I said?" he asks. you exhale, "yeah, we are cool."

♡ "I think you're being really hard on him," suguru stated casually. your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "the guy is obviously making an effort to get along with you, and you keep shutting him down". you stared at your best friend with accusing eyes. "why are you taking his side?" you replied with frustration. suguru gave you a knowing look. "I am not taking sides. but I will defend either of you if necessary." you reached for your arm and pinched it with slight shame. you didn't realize how difficult you were being. "just go easy on him," suguru added on. "if not for his sake, then at least for mine. I just want you guys to get along..."

♡ surprisingly, things started going really well with satoru after you began making the conscious effort to do so. you could even say that you both were starting to become friends. satoru revealed that he was actually quite smart when you both were alone together and not in front of a crowd. he's also insanely talented but downplayed himself quite frequently and nonchalantly. his confidence, his real confidence, about his talents and wits was always subdued. you wondered if the persona he puts on for people is to simply hide away this part of himself. your heart started to expand and contract tightly when you listened to him spitball on some random scientific fact mid-discussion. satoru's incessant chatter not so annoying to you after all. as a matter of fact, he actually had a really nice voice when he was speaking calmly. at one point, he smiled and mumbled that he needed to learn to shut up. he casually ran his long, slender fingers through his snowy hair and gave you a bashful glance. your heart pattered a little faster. he can be really cute when he wants to be.

♡ you're spending a lot more time alone with him. and it's nice. like really, really nice. he's bloomed into someone unexpected. someone that catches your eye in an entirely different way. you do eventually agree to watch a movie together. the two of you were snuggled close in the theatre, sharing a bowl of popcorn. at one point you both reached for the bucket at the same time, the warmth of satoru's touch grazing over your fingers and making your thighs tremble. "sorry," he whispered as he casually lifts his hand, but his hot breath fans your cheek. you gazed up to see that his face is quite close to yours, your eyes falling to his pretty lips then back up to the sparkling blues. "i-it's okay," you answer, taken aback by the proximity of him in your space. you fold your arms over your belly swimming with butterflies, suddenly too aware of your own emotions to eat anymore.

♡ you're falling for him, when did that start happening?

♡ oh. you like him. you like him more than you should. you haven't even told suguru about it and it's eating you up inside. you haven't even admitted it out loud to yourself and that makes you scared. but you can't stop looking at him. he looks so good in his outfit - dressed to kill, and capturing everyone's attention at the party. "who are you staring at?" shoko asks. you try to brush it off, but utahime points out the obvious. suddenly you're bombarded with questions, your words failing you as you try to give an explanation.

♡ they don't accuse you, but they are curious and their wonder spins into hundreds of questions. everyone knows that you didn't like satoru gojo. what suddenly changed?

♡ "satoru is really sweet, but...he's not my type..." you blurt out in an attempt to save yourself and to give yourself some space from the weight of your realization. but only then do you see the girl's expression drop as both their eyes look above your head.

♡ satoru looks back at you crestfallen, having clearly heard what you just said. no, you think, no no no.

♡ he tugs at his collar, "excuse me-" he states as he spins on his heel. you all watch him disappear, and you're suddenly standing there wishing that the ground will swallow you whole. suguru asks the girls to give you both some privacy. the two of you stand in silence for a bit, and you realize that your best friend is giving you a chance to catch your breath. "I have to go talk to him," you blurt out, a sense of panic in your eyes. suguru just smiles. he knows you so fucking well. he takes the drink from your hand and gestures towards the door with the tilt of his head.

♡ "satoru..." you call out quietly, finding him seated outside. he doesn't react like usual, just stares at the ground before clearing his throat. he wipes his hands on his thighs and stands upright, his broad shoulders slumping. he turns around to face you, and the expression makes your brows furrow with concern. "you don't have to say anything," he explains.

♡ he stands upright, slides both his hands in his pockets and exhales in defeat. "I think it's fairly obvious that I like you. But they're just feelings right? It'll go away. I don't want to keep bothering you or wasting your time..." "satoru..." you interrupt.

"you clearly don't feel the same way, and I-I don't want to come across as a creep or make you feel uncomfortable..." "satoru, please" you beg, taking a step closer. "look, it's fine..." he says with a big grin, his eyes glossy and making you ache. "I'm a big boy, I can take rejection..." "it's not fine," you murmur with a shake of your head. "I have clearly been forcing this, making up stories in my own head. I shouldn't...I shouldn't keep taking up your precious time..." he walks up two steps, ready to bypass you but you quickly loop your arm around his bicep and tug him back. "wait-" you stammer, and he halts. frozen, you gaze at each other in contemplation. your other hand reaches for his jaw, and his body stiffens against your touch. "just...wait..." you softly add on, trying to rationalize your own feelings and what this could all mean. you tilt your head up, your thumb outlining his jaw. your eyes fall to his parted lips, your own seeking him out. you kiss him sweetly, apologetically, affectionately.

satoru is stunned. his eyes fall hazy like he can't believe what just happened. he looks so cute that you can't help but smile, your thumb moves to swipe the lipstick over his bottom lip.

"I-..." he mumbles dreamily, slowly angling his body in your direction. he gulps down the raw hurt. "I thought I'm not your type..."

"you're not," you answer back cheekily, your arms moving to circle around his neck while his own hands find your hips. "but I think that's exactly why I like you. you're everything I didn't expect."

his forehead drops against yours as a wave of relief washes over him. "you like me?"

you nip at your bottom lip, teasing the tip of his nose with yours. "yeah," you answer a little breathlessly, before smiling into another kiss "I really do."

♡ when suguru wakes up the next morning, the first text he receives is from satoru. after you both disappeared from the party last night, he had to follow up.

suguru: let me guess, did you both kiss and make up? satoru: I just left her place, heading back to mine now. suguru: spare me any gross details please. satoru: I feel like I am dreaming. last night wasn't real suguru: pretty real, bud. so, don't fuck it up. satoru: just pinch me when you see me, alright? I need to make sure.

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 7.

Prev

The gun was cold in your hands. After everyone had left for patrol, you had snuck into Jason's room. Knowing he wasn't in the manner made it easier to do soon. You took one of his smaller guns and 4 boxes of ammo. It took you longer than you would have liked to match the bullet in the gun's magazine. Still you were able to find the right ones. He also had throwing knives hidden in his room which you gladly took.

Now standing on the small private beach in the back of the manor grounds, you shot at discarded cans. Your old tablet played videos on gun safety and how to aim. Still you couldn't hit a can. It was different from throwing a blades.

With a blade there were many factors. How you held the blade played a part. The best way you found was to hold the blade towards you balancing it on your middle and index finger. Than lightly push down with your thumb towards your palm. Bring that up over your head than throwing and releasing. When you released, how much power you put in, and amount of pressure you placed with your thumb depended on distance. Aiming was just a matter of when to let go.

Yet it seemed like very little of that applied to guns. Sure there were sights to help you aim. But that didn't mesh well with how you were used to aiming with knives. Plus the kick back was starting to make your wrists ache. Jason was doing this shit one handed. Maybe you were holding it wrong, the videos weren't giving you a good view. Adjusting your grip you tried again.

Bang. The can stayed upright but at least the gun didn't kick back as much. You were able to keep from flinching too much as well so you were adjusting to the noise. There was a new chip in the rock next to the can. You sighed before setting the weapon down. This wasn't working.

Yes, you had improved. No longer hitting the sand or the cliff face behind your target. Still you weren't hit the can and weren't even that far away. There was no way you could face these guys without a weapon. Grumbling in frustration, you took one of the throwing knives and threw at the can. That one actually hit.

You reached over and paused the video. It was than you heard something. It was faint an inhale of breath from behind some rocks. Breathing throught your nose, you steel your nerves. Going off on Dick ealier was going have consequences. Maybe Bruce had sent someone to take you back. There was no telling. Smiling at the screen, you said, "Break time."

You changed the video to a dance routine you liked. Taking the first position in the dance you waited.

Dance was a hobby you picked up from Barbara. You had watched her do some old ballet routines from when she was seven. Orginially she had preformed them for Dick back when you were one, you could barely remember the movements. Still caused a small spark in you, a want to be like your big sister. The spark remained for two years. You started learning from videos when you were three. You never did them where anyone could see you, preferring to learn privately. In the experiments, you would use the routines in your cell to check that your muscles still functioned properly.

Now you used it as a way to observe subtly. The spins and position changes allowed you to take stock of your surroundings. Mid song is when you saw him.

He was hidden in alcove with a deep green cloak. He was tall around the same height as Jason. A part of you question if he just came from a Ren Fair because of his clothes. However that didn't seem to matter as much as his size and the sword at his hip. He was probably trained to use it too. You didn't doubt he could fight just as well as Bruce. You would have one shot to take him out.

The choreography had you turn away from him. When he couldn't see you grabbed a knife from the holster. Twirling back around, you flung it straight for his head. He caught it by the handle right in front of his throat. Too low. "Impressive. Going for a killing blow before I can start the fight."

The man step forward spinning the blade in his hand. You step back and began thinking of ways out. He stopped five feet away from you and tossed the dagger towards you. "Though your throwing form was off causing the blade to not have as much force. I can excuse that for the creativity of blending it with a dance."

"What?" You caught the dagger feeling it sink into your hand. You turned it subtly allowing the wound to heal.

The man nodded to your hand, "That also makes you intriguing. A girl capable of healing with great potential that needs only to be refined."

The climb up the cliff's edge was not a viable option. You could run into the sea, swim or just let yourself drown. Yet you couldn't judge if he was capable of swimming or if he would buy the fake death. If he came from the experiments he would know drowning didn't actually kill. There was no way out. The man gestured, "Get into a throwing position."

You paused, looking at him. Why did he want you to get into throwing position. If he was take you back than letting you fight him seemed useless. He tilted his head making his gesture again, "Do you not wish to learn?"

Slowly you got back into throwing position. He walked over to you. The first thing he did was kick your legs slightly further apart. Afterwards he made you bend your knees slightly. He than grabbed your hand, paused, and had you pull it back just a little further.

Once satisfied with the adjustments, he walked back to his spot 5 feet away. "Throw."

You did. This time he had to stop in front of his face. The throw felt more powerful and you had an easier time staying balance. With some minor adjustments he fixed a problem you hadn't fully realized you had. This allowed you to grab another blade and get in position quicker.

He smiled once more. "Again." You did, this time aiming for his throat. He caught the knife once more, nodding once again. The two of you practice knife throwing for a few minutes. In that short time he had you do underhand throws and side thows. He clapped after another successful throw, "Enough."

You were out of knives. He moved towards you again and handed the blades over to you. As he handed them to you, he started to speak. "Don’t fuss with the gun for right now. With a blade you are more dangerous to people not paying attention."

Once done he handed you an ornate blade. It was incredibly sharp with a blood red handle in the shape of spider lilies. The handle was a polished wood that shone in the moonlight. There was a sheath underneath the blade that could be strapped to your hip. "When next we meet I will show you how to use this blade efficiently."

"Where will we met again?"

"You'll know." He turned and left without another word. You grabbed Jason's gun before leaving yourself. The whole encounter felt like a dream.

Stephanie was physically watching Orphan's assigned target but mentally she was thinking about (Name). When she first arrived at the manor, she had been fed stories by Tim. Of how she stole his mask and yelled at him for replacing Jason. So as the next Robin she avoided the girl.

Than she became Batgirl for a brief sprint. Which made her made her more wearily about accidentally coming off as replacing Barbara. When she did try reaching out to the girl it was awkward. Plus the girl seem perfectly content living life without her barging in.

Steph had left her be figuring she had plenty of other siblings to bond with. There was no way in a manor full of people she was alone. Right?

God, now she just felt stupid. Assumptions really had made an ass out of her. Right now she was just waiting for the man to get off the phone with whoever he was talking to. After struggling to find anything beyond (Name)'s mother and she had switched task with Cass. The girl seemed more interested in doing the research anyway, so what was the harm.

She would finish investigating for the day, take a nap, than take the girl out somewhere. Maybe have a girls day with Barbara and Cass tagging along. Get their nails done, haircuts, bat burgers, maybe karaoke. Was any of that stuff (Name) was interested in? Whatever the girl had gone through was pretty traumatic, based solely on the breakdown Dick described. She deserved to have a fun day where they could spoiled her. Maybe she could take her rollerskating. Steph stopped her planning as the guy finished the phone. First they had to make sure these guys were handled.

Crashing through the window, Spoiler caught the guy off gaurd. He jumped reaching for a weapon. She grabbed his wrist and pinned him to wall. "Hey Matthew. Let's have a quick chat."

"Look, Whatever you're here for I didn’t do it." The guy, Matthew Jenkins, struggled against Spoiler's hold. He had worked with James and Marcus at a security firm two years ago before spontaneously quitting four days before (Name) disappeared. The same had occurred with two other man, Henry Duncan and Gregory Hartley. Signal had already reported that Henry was dead and had been for awhile. Maybe five or six days

"Oh, okay. So you have no contact to (Name) Wayne?" Spoiler pushed on his wrist a little harder making him cry out in pain.

"Who?"

"Playing dumb won't help you. I already know you were using her debit card to pull cash." They didn't actually know which of five man were pulling cash from the card. Based on video analysis there had be at least three of them making the pulls, so odds were good.

Matthew froze in Spoiler's hand, sucking in a breath. Looks like she was on the right track. "Shit, that girl really was a Wayne?"

Spoiler twisted his wrist just a little bit. He hissed through his teeth, "Yeah. Keep talking."

"Fuck. Look we didn't know exactly what they were doing to the kid. We just watched the room they kept her in and moved her to research room when asked. They usually carted her back when we were on lunch. It was just a good paying job and she never looked to badly hurt."

"How much were they paying you."

"Fithteen hundred a week." Matthew lightly banged his head against the wall, "Shit I should have tapped out when Henry did. I knew the girl was going to get us in more trouble than she was worth."

"Henry Duncan?"

"Yeah. Is he doing okay, we haven't heard from him since he stormed off the job?" Matthew shifted in Spoiler's grasp.

"He was found dead in ditch two hours ago. Marcus Antonio was found shot last night in his apartment." Matthew let out shocked breath and shook his head.

"We are fucked."

"Maybe not. If you answer all my questions I might be able to get you out of Gotham." It was a gamble but one Spoiler had to take. This guy could give her at least a location on where they held her and maybe who was paying them. Especially if three of them were dead. "First, you mentioned Duncan tapping out. What happened to make him leave?"

"They had said the testing was almost completed. They just had one last test to make sure everything was successful before we would know if we'd be getting raises or let go?" Matthew started. "We were informed to never look in the room unless instructed to."

"Henry didn't listen did he?" Spoiler let up on his wrist. He was more scared of these guys than her right now, better to let that fear keep him talking.

Matthew shook his head, "Henry didn't listen. After the final test he got curious because she was oddly quiet. We could usually hear her muttering to herself. He said she looked like a deflated balloon."

Matthew paused taking a deep breath. "We all looked. I don't know what they did but her chest had caved in on itself. There also something growing in her. Honestly I thought she was dead until she blinked. Henry lost it, said he wasn't going down for whatever they had done to her. We all almost walked out but James stopped us. If the last test was marked successful we'd each get a raise to five thousand dollars a week."

"You know what happened to James?"

"The kid killed him. She also took out Greg's eye with a fucking scalpel. No amount of money is that shit." Matthew banged his head to the wall.

Spoiler paused processing. Money was a huge motivation to this guy, so chances were he knew who was paying him. "Where was the money coming from? Not just for your paycheck either."

"The girl’s card and her tuition. Her dad was giving her fifteen thousand a week. They use that to buy a generator and some other shit to keep the building off grid. We would pull cash for them every once and a while but most of it came from the accountant. They would divert the kid's tuition to James, he paid us." That explained where the tuition was going.

"Who was in charge?" Spoiler needed a name. Sure she had a lot to rely back at the cave but she needed just a little more.

"I don't know." The pressure return to his wrist. Matthew started struggling, "I don't know, I work with some intern chick who took notes on girl's status and the accountant."

"Good enough. Give their names." Spoiler gave his wrist one last twist.

"The intern chick's name was Isabella, I never got a last name. Just heard a rumor that she was related to the big boss. The accountant was..."

"Mr. Davis, so glad to finally be able to meet you." The man zip tied to his office chair glared at you. After the training on the beach you discovered you still had five hours before anyone got back to the manor. Using the Gotham Subway you had gotten to Davis' office. Surprisingly the man was still there. Hurriedly packing files into a briefcase. You used the knife to keep him under control until you could zip tie him to the chair. The man had proven right, a knife was more powerful.

You glanced at the files. Documents approving a change in wiring numbers, written approval for changes to the limits on your checking account as a minor, and so much more. All incriminating with Bruce Wayne's signature on the bottom. You turned your gaze to Davis twirling a throwing knife in your hand. Sitting on his desk made you eye level with him, "Now what were doing with these?"

"Fuck you brat." His word turned into a cry of pain as you threw the knife. It cut a line across his cheeks.

Standing from his desk you walk towards him. Pulling the stranger's dagger from the sheath you held it over his hand, above the knuckle of his left thumb. "Let’s try again. What were doing with those files?"

"I'm not scared of a fucking ten year old." Of course. You were a baby faced ten year old. Who would be scared of you? If you wanted information from this man you had to scare him into giving it to you.

Pushing down on the blade, he started to scream. It took a minute find where the blade could cut through. Mangled his hand pretty bad but eventually his thumb came off. He slumped in the chair, panting. Was this how you looked when they cut off your body parts?

"Will you answer me now? I really don't want to have cut off another one." You picked up his severe digit, rolling it around in your palm. There was a disturbing calm in the violence. It was as if you could finally relax. Maybe the experiments had messed with your head more than you thought, "Well."

"Fine. I was told to destroyed them." Davis spat the words out inbetween harsh breaths. Finally information.

You lifted an eyebrow and set the thumb on his desk, "By who?"

"Clint Owen. He was my son's doctor." You began to think through the people you saw in the experiments. There were six scientists that would poke at you. Clint was probably one of them, especially if he was a doctor. They hadn't used names near you.

"What did he tell you about the experiments?" The more information the better, you needed to know what Bruce gained from this. Davis stayed silent. There was an intense staring contest between you two. Finally you sighed, "Okay, fine. Your ring or your pinkie? I'm thinking pinkie, personally."

"No, I'll tell you." Davis started to struggle in the chair as you walked closer. "Owens told me, it was a way to get organs for dying kids. That's all I know, he offered to give my son one of the kidneys."

"Really? You did all of this for a kidney?" At least you knew where your kidney was now. Wrong thing to focus on but your head was getting buzzy from the violence.

"He would have died without it." Davis shook his head. A part of you felt a little bad for cutting off his thumb. The man was just desperate to save his kid. Could you really blame him for that? "Beside, the Waynes needed to be taken down a peg. Why not remind those idiots their money can't do shit to save anyone, even their own? The little bitch had it coming."

Nevermind. You stabbed the knife through his right hand. He pissed himself, gross. You began talking over his screams "Did I ask for your shit rate opinions? No, I didn't. Stick to telling me the facts or your losing the hand. Who was involved in the experiments?"

"Three doctor's from the Martha Wayne Childern's Hospital, One researcher from Gotham U and his student assistant." He screamed the words at you. A part of you contemplated twisting the knife just because you could. When had you got so violent? Eh later problem.

"Names." You sounded bored even to your own. Maybe you should be concerned, how do you get here again?

"I don't know." The darker part of you won, twisting the blade in his hand. He started struggling again. "I'm telling the truth, I really don't know. They weren't on any payroll I had access to."

"Who's Sionis?"

"Black Mask. He provided the weapons for the guards." Oh that wasn't good. Black Mask was violent hopefully you could just ignore him as an ignorant arms dealer.

You paused looking him up and down. This wasn't a lot of information. Yes, you had a name and occupations for some of the scientists. There were also the documents showing Bruce Signed off on this. The paper proved he was involved by themselves. But than the take the Waynes down a peg comment didn't fit. "Who was on payroll?"

"Doesn't matter half of them are dead."

"Is that an opinion?" You removed the knife from his hand.

He paled and began pushing back in his chair, "James Lenon, Marcus Antonio, Henry Duncan, Gregory Hartley, Matthew Jenkins. They were the ones guarding the place. The first three are dead, the fourth guy left Gotham after losing his eye. Jenkins is the only one left in town."

Maybe you could get to Jenkins before he left. Than again those guys didn't seem to know much. You could hear them talking through the door at night. They nickname for the scientists and never talk much about the experiments other than supplies. What else could you get from him, "Who was in charge of the experiments?"

"Owens."

"Are you sure?" Davis paused. He gave you a wide eye pleading look while nodding. You looked out the window while trying to connect the pieces.

If Cass was the one who found 'the school' than you needed a connection between her and Owens. Of course Bruce wouldn't let someone like Davis know he was connected. With Davis's disgruntled attitude towards Bruce, he was likely state up to rat on the wrong people. With no clue about Bruce's real involvement it be easy to brush him off as a rouge accountant. Probably claim forgery on the signatures too.

"Well. I got everything I needed." You flipped the knife in your hand. Grabbing the briefcase you turned towards the door.

"Wait, you gotta let me go." Davis tried shuffling the chair. You looked towards him and considered. He could alert Bruce to your investigation.

You gave him a sheepish smile. "Right my bad." You walked behind him and the smile dropped. The next few moments blurred into your mind but than you were the fire escape. Holding a briefcase and changing into some clothes you had brought with you. Checking time you realized you had 3 hours to get back to the manor.

The rest of your investigation would be on hold until you were fully trained and they were lulled into a false sense of security.

Bruce starred at the body of his accountant. His hands had been mutilated and his throat slit. Written in his blood on the wall behind the body was, "Don’t Forget Me."

Both remaining gaurds had implicated Davis as the one that tranferred the tuition money to them. Said they didn't know names but faces of the scientists. Their last lead pointed to Davis as having more information. (Name) wouldn't tell them anything if they went by her interaction with Dick. Yet he was dead when they got here and all of his financial records had been thrown about the office be covered in blood. It seemed most of the ones on (Name) were missing either way.

The next best hope was to look into Meta Traffickers who went off the grid two years ago. Maybe they could look into doctors too since one was needed for that kind of experiment.

Bruce's eyes drifted to the words on the wall. There was no way they would forget this person. Not until who ever they were was behind bars for what they did to (Name). Bruce's hands drifted to the center pocket of his suit and pulled out a photo.

It was him holding (Name) as an infant. A broad smile on his face as he cradled the squirming infant. Looking back at the scene Bruce made a silent vow to not let the people who hurt her get away.

Prev

Taglist:

@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills @yhin-gg @charlenexoxo1 @a-lurking-fae @moondust-clouds @darkumbreon92 @jsprien213 @bellethesleepypotato @time-shardz @randomlyappearingartist @kittzu @bat1212 @vanilliona @welpthisisboring @plsfckmedxddy @tulnukaz @eyeless-kun @daisy56789

[nerdygirlramblings]

omegaverse 141

previous

The following morning, after formation, you have your squad follow you onto the trail that runs around base. The same one Soap had seen you running a few weeks back.

"You didn't tell us we be runnin' today, Sarge," Geoffrey says, barely concealing a whine.

You chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes. Glancing over your shoulder you ask, "When have I led ya wrong?" Your squad is quiet behind you. They may not want to socialize with you as an omega, but there's no denying you've been getting the job done. "Brought ya out here cuz I wanted to talk. And to do it without any alphas or other CO's around."

There's some muttering behind you, not loud enough to make anything out, but not quiet enough to dismiss either. You notice a change in the air around you. Though they're betas and have learned how to project their calming scent, most are still working on controlling their fear and distress. You can smell the slightly sour milk and rush to allay their worries.

You turn to face them and say, "You're not in trouble! We are not in trouble." You face the trail again and resume your walk, talking as you go, "But something's come up, and it impacts everyone." You pick up your pace ever so slightly . You're looking for the clearing you'd passed the first time you ran here. It's a little space set off from the main trail, big enough for a few people to camp or for a squad to meet. You want to get there quickly to have this whole conversation out rather than dropping breadcrumbs. Your squad deserves that.

Once everyone is off the trail and standing around you, you tell them about the offer you've received from the 141. "Oh my God," Molly whispers, awe in her voice. "There, like, the best!"

You bob your head in acknowledgment and respond, "Some of, yes." It's clear that your squad doesn't understand the full implications of you joining the 141. So you lay it out for them. "If I take this opportunity, they'll pull me as your CO. Captain Price said -"

A voice interrupts, "You mean you actually talked to Captain Price?!?" You smile self-indulgently remembering how awed you were when the man first approached you.

"Yes, and 'e said that it's too disruptive for any of the 141 to have a squad of their own. Apparently, we can be called out at any point, and be gone for weeks. It would leave ya without a commanding officer." You look at each member of your squad, meeting everyone's eyes. "If I do this, you'll have a new CO. I don't know who it would be, and I don't know what that would mean for your trainin'. 'At's why I brought ya out here. Wanted to get yer honest take on what this means fer ya." There's some uneasy shuffling as it seems no one wants to quite be honest about their feelings. You remind them that you're not like other COs, and that you're an omega. Not that they need the reminder about either, but it seems to help settle some nerves. "I know it's hard fer ya having an omega as a CO. I know the stigma it carries. While this decision is mine and mine alone, yer time here is impacted by it, so I wanted to know what ya think."

It finally occurs to some members of your squad that they can be honest with you. "Yeah, 's tough around base having you as our CO. There're still a lot of alphas who won't want us on their team because you're the one who is trained us," Connor says.

One by one, your squad shares how they feel about you joining the 141. Some are like Connor and recognize the strain it puts on their careers to have you as their CO. Some are like Molly, excited for your opportunity regardless of what it does for them. Some are like Geoffrey, recognizing how they've struggled and realizing that a different CO, a beta or an alpha who is harsher, will make their time in the military much more difficult.

You get the sense - from what they say and how they smell - that most of your squad have already accepted that you'll leave them. Some may be happy about this because of the way it might benefit them while others simply seem happy for you. You close by telling them to make their way to the shooting range to practice on the Glock 17s. You remind them that after range practice is lunch with the promise of a decision for them by the time you see them in the mess.

"An' I promise, if I do take Captain Price up on his offer, I'll still keep tabs on you. Gotta make sure you all make it through basic as brilliantly as I know you can," you say with a rueful grin.

Your squad disperses from the clearing, making their way in twos and threes back to base, but you hang back. You pull your phone out and call home, finally ready with a decision.

This time it's Mum who answers. She takes one look at your face and shouts off screen to Mama and Dad "We've got a decision!" There's commotion on the other end as Mama and Dad come into frame.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," you say apologetically.

Dad reminds you he's on glorified bedrest, "So either yer Mum or yer Mama is always home. This morning I've got both." He smiles, "But a call from you is never an interruption. Or, if it is, it's the best kind."

Mama nods and leans close to the screen. "So, what did you decide?"

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs, and release it slowly. Before you can tell them, Mum says, "Good fer you, love."

"But," you sputter, "Mum...I didn't even tell you-"

"You don't have to, dear," she interrupts. "I can see the decision in your eyes. You're gonna join the task force." You hear the price, and fear, in her voice.

Beside her, Mama nods and tries to hide her emotions. "We're proud of whatever decision you make. And while I'm not happy with how much more dangerous this is, I think it's the right thing for you."

Dad is beaming, but you see the tears caught in his lashes. "Pretty girl, we love you so much! This is such an amazing opportunity for you. And if it feels right, if your omega feels safe, this might be the best thing for you."

next

[tookishcombeferre]

I'm a 30 year old transmasc non-binary person. I saw the movie Atlantis: The Lost Empire when I was 7 in the theater. My dad's dad had just died, and we weren't all that close. But, it really helped me to see Milo process the death of his own grandfather at the time. I think Atlantis came out about a year(?) after my dad's dad died? Anyway, I really always related to Milo even if I couldn't understand why at the time. (Now I get it.) I just watched the movie again because I wanted to, and my toddler watched bits and pieces with me while we shared some tea. They watched me *bawl.* My mom's dad, though we never got to talk about the fullness of my experience before he died a little less than two years ago, was the only family member who just understood me with no words. He never knew my name or pronouns - so he never used them. But, he got *me.* His yard was where I could climb trees, feed birds, roughhouse, and do all the "forbidden boyish" stuff. I watched Robin Hood and The Sorcerer's Stone in his living room. I built towers up to the ceiling. I got to read Frankenstein on his porch when I was in the seventh grade. I'm pretty sure my first unabridged copy of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries was purchased for me by him. He was basically my dad or second-dad. Later, he would listen to me talk about my papers, my poems, and my stories and, in turn, I'd listen to the latest of his research in biophysics, when he was still a researcher, or I'd listen to him explain, in layman's terms, the newest experiments he would read about after he stopped doing his own stuff. These were our lost civilizations and genuine arrowheads. When Mr. Whitmore handed Milo the Shepherd's Journal and said the line "Our lives are marked by the gifts we leave our children, and this is your grandfather's gift to you." My own kid was pillowed on my shoulder. I heard that line at 7. I cried in the theater because it's sad. You don't have to have lived the line for it be sad. I needed to learn loss young so I could feel loss better older. Because, now? That line collapsed on me like a ton of bricks, but I didn't get crushed by those bricks. I had a hard hat and padding to protect me. Like I said, my grandfather was like my dad. He's not coming back. But, he has given me so much. He has left me so much, and I get to decide what I want to leave to my own kid someday. I get to decide what world, what legacy, and what I leave for my own child. Because, it wasn't just the journal that Thaddeus left for Milo. It was the values that allowed Milo to remain steadfast when standing up to people physically stronger than him. I remember that right now. Especially right now. It's not just the intellectual gifts my grandfather left me. It's the tenacity. It's the love. It's protectiveness. It's the gentleness. It's the grace. It's the desire to be curious. It's the *need* to know. It's quiet faith. It's the desire to do justice. It's the desire to see peace for the next generation. It's the desire to listen to all sides of an argument before saying my own piece while also knowing when things have gone way too far and need to be shut down. It's knowing when and how to give people space to grow in their own way and time. Because, while everyone else in my family was forcing me into dresses, my grandfather was letting me climb trees in jeans and sneakers. He also didn't bat an eyelash when I cut my hair off my junior year of high school. So, he may not be here. But, he lives in the gifts he left me. So, while, I got my vaccine at 7, it didn't take effect until 28. Even then, I'm only just starting to feel like I'm actually inoculated at 30.

We can't be afraid to keep inoculating the youth. Kids need to see death, loss, and such like in their media. Withholding it from them just makes them less equipped for these exact moments when they're older. I firmly believe that.

Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley?  I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.

The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth

[tricoloreddango]

Yandere Mydei Headcanons

Mydei x gn! reader

cw: isolation, controlling relationship, overprotectiveness, paranoia, spanking, leg injuring, mentions of non-con (Mydei thinks of it but doesn’t act on it), coercion.

Beware of spoilers.

Don’t read it if you’re a minor!

Origins

You’re all good with Mydei until something happens to you—suddenly you’re a threat to yourself, or anything bad that there is becomes a threat to you as well.

—When Mydei first met you, he thought of you as capable enough of taking care of yourself. Not only did you know how to fight, you also had a mouth on you, one comparable to his. While it brought him trouble, he admired your strong will and an ability to stand up for yourself in this cruel world, even in front of someone like Mydei, and he eventually he let you close to him and form a relationship with.

His feelings of confidence towards your ability quickly started to change, after you got badly injured in the battle. Hearing about this felt like a hot whiplash on his back. It didn’t matter nothing has been happening to you so far until this point, and that you were still alive. This singular incident proved that there’s always an enemy stronger than you, a risk worse than you can manage and… his mother Gorgo was a great warrior too, only to meet a deadly fate in the end too.

Paranoid thoughts filled his mind, and soon, his feelings changed from pride for you, to the sense of anger at your willingness to expose yourself to so many risks of this world with how eager for the world and challenge taking you were. And only Mydei could protect you from these risks, taking on another burden. He needed you with him desperately, the only person that truly can get through him.

—You weren’t happy about any of this, of course. From being so free, to Mydei constantly checking on you, demanding answers, questioning your ability, scolding you; until you no longer were an autonomous person, but instead under his control he’d never dare to call something else than “guidance”.

How Mydei treats the situation

All this road along, he failed to realize he was protecting his feelings instead, more than you actually needed to be protected.

—With time, rules became stricter, until you no longer could leave outside without him. No matter how much not being able to fight was depressing to you, if it truly bothers you so much, while it hurt Mydei to cut your wings like this, all he’d tell you is that you could always have a sparring training with him. He’d rather let guilt eat him alive at night, than let you get yourself injured again. Mydei truly didn’t enjoy hurting you, but hurt was never avoided either.

—Mydei’s actions were fueled by his paranoia and fears, but he was still self aware about how this affects you—he just had to prioritize one over another, safety over happiness, but still balance your wellbeing somewhat as suffering wasn’t an option either.

If you were unhappy about something, he’d try to find a substitute for what you were lacking, which of course would never compare to the real deal—but the need to keep you safe was bigger than you being fully satisfied. He lost a lot of his tribe, he lost his mother, how can he lose someone he loves too? He learned from his lessons of being merciful towards the world. He’d be cruel towards his enemies, involuntarily cruel to you, but at least you were alive and safe.

—With his usual ways of dealing with problems being violence, a most straightforward and effective method, there was not much that Mydei wouldn’t do or much that would hold him back from doing bad things in your name—any threat to you would be immediately dealt with, even if it was meant to be more bloodshed. Just don’t look at him as if he’s a monster afterwards, or he’ll have to start making it a secret to keep away from you. Mydei had enough self-doubts after killing his own father.

Punishment

He loved you, but he’ll be strict if he needs to be. It was a matter of you forcing him to be.

—With what little freedom he puts you through and him not being entirely delirious, he’d try to be patient with you. He didn’t expect you to ever forgive him, knowing it’s difficult on you and that your life will never be really yours, even if your coldness towards forgiveness made him feel guilty… but he still chased your compliance and understanding, reminding you it’s about your safety. He’d give you time, but if you continue disregarding his orders and concerns for too long, he’d be forced to take measures he wouldn’t want to deliver onto you. He might hurt his enemies with ease, but hurting you was a last resort, as you didn’t cross him the same way his enemies would and naturally his affection held him back; so you’d have to push him really hard for him to finally make a decision, that perhaps this is his only chance.

—Constantly trying to run away and him always hunting you down, despite his warnings and small withdrawal of comforts from you as a punishment—Mydei didn’t know what else he could do to keep you in place, it’s enough for him to finally think that maybe only his usual way will work at this point.

He just wouldn’t make his violence as severe as he’d do towards a foe, considering you were meant to learn and were his love, not to be brutalized upon his anger. He needed something you can recover from, but something painful enough to leave you hesitant to misbehave again.

He didn’t enjoy putting you over his lap, he felt guilt hearing your cries and pain, to the point that he’ll hold you tight afterwards, for his own comfort too. However, that guilt was something that will gradually disappear if you shall repeat same attempts regardless of being punished. If you ever reach that point, you’ll be deemed just stupid and stubborn by him, and each spanking session will feel only right and not cruel anymore. If you choose to listen instead and stop running away, but still keep making other forms of disobedience towards his protection , such penalties will be rare, replaced with from simple harsh scolding to taking away your privileges (especially outside-related); all depending on the extent of the offense.

—In worst case possible, he’d simply chain you up or… hurt a leg or two so you can’t leave, but it’d have to be done after long months of you exposing yourself to the danger and ignoring his accumulating anger and anxiety. The injury wouldn’t be anything that would permanently disable you either, even if the pain of it would be unimaginable; but Mydei would make it clear to you, that you left him no choice, and that he’ll take a care of your legs as long as you listen to him now. If anything, you having to be dependent on him when recovering felt most relaxing for Mydei.

Living with Mydei:

You are his lover, no matter how much you might struggle. Let him keep some sense of normality with you.

—While your relationship could never be the same again, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to accommodate it to be about the same. What can be done only outside, he’d still let you, as long as you were leaving with him. You weren’t entirely a prisoner by him, it wasn’t really about locking you up but keeping you away from harm after all. However, this didn’t mean you’d be able to drag him everywhere. There were certain places deemed as more dangerous, but not even because of the threat, but his paranoia you’ll take advantage to escape again.

—When it came to his treatment towards you as your lover, he still offered you same affection or respite in his arms. The issue was, your eagerness was naturally disappearing, creating a distance between you two. It was something Mydei found hard to accept. Accepting this would mean accepting your defiance towards what he was doing for you. This would fuel the sense you’re being ungrateful. Even scarier was losing your love for him, and he was so scared of losing you.

That’s why sometimes he’d force that affection on you, but he loved the moments when you came to him even more; whether they were out of sentiment or you feeling down by your situation. He’d comfort you about everything as if it wasn’t his own doing, but something that simply needed to be done. And no matter how selfish it sounded, he wanted you to comfort him too, with Mydei behaving as if this situation affected him a lot too, especially when you were so disobedient and not understanding. He tended to make himself victimized without even realizing.

--If you snap at him because you have enough of living like this, he won’t be happy. He’ll try to be patient for first few moments, trying to comfort you still, but drag this on and he’ll snap at you too, maybe with a threat of punishment on his lips. That usually shuts you up. Mydei just wasn’t good at being vulnerable, and it was hard for him to sometimes understand your cries and handle your emotions, no matter how valid they were. You just made him even more guilty again, he just wanted to make you quiet, despite it being a runaway from the problem and not a solution to your growing resentment or depression.

But if you really need your space and can’t stop talking about it, he’d let you have it… just not without making it look like a problem for him, no matter how childish that may seem from him. Mydei was used to sleeping next to you.

—If you’ve been particularly well behaved recently, you’ll see his mood to get much better, even show some excitement at the prospect of having normalcy with you again. Living with him could become more bearable, as his positive mood keeps the atmosphere lighter, and him bit more lenient with you. Keep up the good work and he’ll reward you too.

—Mydei would never admit this to you, but he keeps dreaming about the idea of you becoming entirely dependent on him. No more struggle, and he gets to be your hero and feel assured in his sense of need for your protection. You clinging to him, coming to him willingly, telling him you need him, maybe even being scared of being away from your Mydei. Of course it’d mean you are far gone at this point, nothing like the person from the first meeting, and this state, he did not want you to reach. You would have tried to kill him after hearing his fantasy spoken aloud anyway.

Sexuality

There were things he wanted to do to you, he didn’t want you to know.

While Mydei still had enough decorum and self restraint to not force himself on you, especially aware of the pain it’d bring you and guilt for him, he couldn’t deny the fact he missed the pleasure and closeness your body used to bring him. It was hard to keep himself around you sometimes, especially with his strong emotions about the situation that needed the relief too or his need for your affection, but he managed when he thought of your possible pain.

It’s just his thoughts that started to go haywire after a while of controlling you like this. Mydei wouldn’t actually force you physically, but he kept having his “what if” thoughts and unwanted fantasies. Maybe if he was to do this, he’d enforce compliance onto you, with you crying, begging and promising him you’ll listen and stay. Maybe you’d be able to think about him only and not the outside world. Maybe it would remind you of what you two once had, that it still exists somewhere, and your begs would be for more this time.

Thankfully he was able to see it was just wishful thinking, and not act on these thoughts like a fool… at least for now. Mydei felt lonely in this situation too; you’d least expect it when he’s trying to seduce you again, perhaps by an attempt of forcing desperation into you with little sneaky touches during his affections or by instilling a sense of guilt with a reminder of how much he’s trying for you. Surely you needed to blow off some steam too anyway.

Final words

Living with Mydei doesn’t have to be most miserable, if you play your cards right and choose to accept his offer of safety. While you didn’t have a choice in a traditional sense, you had a choice to make a situation better for yourself and keep some normalcy and happiness leftovers—if you choose to try to understand his reasonings, because sadly, he won’t ever change his mind. Mydei wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone in your name, but he’d hate for you to ever blame him for it. He’d hate to hurt you even more, he constantly lived with the fear he was doing so and with that, had even more guilt to carry; yet it was all buried by the sense of duty to keep you safe, one driving him motivated enough to keep going in “protecting” you, even if it felt more like avoidance towards his own problems.

Accept him, and he’s your old Mydei… somewhat. Reject him, and now you two struggle.

[kittysarchive]

Enhypen hyung line- Hard doms

*toxic enhypen coming very soon!

warnings- mostly written in dot points, includes smut, dom enhypen, hard dom, sub reader, mean enhypen, teasing enhypen, cumming inside (DONTT), punishing reader

Heeseung

He doesn't have time for you antics.

He could come across cold but he just wants you to shut up.

He'll make you use a safe word, just so he knows your annoying whines or punches to let him go, are you actually enjoying yourself.

Heeseung can switch though.

He wont change from being nice but his mean attitude will change.

Instead of insulting you or getting tired of your squirming he can be a mean tease.

Going extra slow

Mocking you

Only caring about his own pleasure....

"Fuck stop squirming" Heeseung huffs, gripping your hips, pushing them deeper into the mattress. You mewl at being manhandled.

"You like that huh? you dirty slut" He laughs, pulling his hips back to brutally thrust back into you. You cry out at the insult, but even yourself couldn't stop clenching around his cock. He emits another laugh, as his sends a hard thrust back into you.

"My fucking slut, that's what you are" He loosens his grip on your hips as he finishes inside you.

Jay

He's not too different from Heeseung

Except the fact, he more scolds you then teases you

He's annoyed, lets just say

Whether you had been teasing him all day

Giving him some attitude or going behind his back to hang out somewhere he doesn't like or talk to someone he doesn't like...

All these will end up with you on the bed, head down ass up

You don't complain though

It hurts yeah but maybe, this is what you wanted from the start of the day

And Jay isn't dumb

Thats why he scolds you and sometimes insults

Cos why did you have to be a brat?

He would have given you something, but now your getting this

"Little brat is what you are" Jay growles behind you, gripping your ass tightly and spreading your cheeks open. His cock was already deep up against your plush walls, but he knew he could go deeper. Your whimper is drowned out into the blankets.

"You don't want this anymore? This is all you fucking beg for" He pushes his cock roughly into you. You can feel his balls tickle your cunt.

"Take it all baby" Jay groans, pulling back before thrusting into you again, soon he'd have you on your back, and start all over again.

Jake

A little less brutal then the others but he does affect you with his words

Making you feel smaller then him

Making you feel worthless

Making you submit to him because how dare you be a brat and give him attitude

Of course this is all your fault, he's just fucking some sense into you

'your to rough' that's how he needs to be with you he thinks t himself, and he believes himself.

"You won't do it again right? I know you won't you whore" You whimper at the insult, mouth stuffed off his cocked, you couldn't bite back a response.

"You look better like this anyway, beneath me" Jake laughs to himself, leaning back on his elbows, enjoying you struggle to take all of him. Even with the tears pricking your eyes and the gags that bring you close to throwing up, he won't let you take a break, otherwise how else will you learn.

Sitting up straight, he roughly holds your head, pushing you till your nose was touching his pubic hairs. Feeling a wave of nausea as you feel his cock slide down your throat, you suppress it. This was where you were meant to be.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon enjoys when you make a fool of yourself

Making you beg

Making you cry

Making you gag over his cock

Even making you cum early and apologise

He loves it all

Even if you have done nothing wrong, that's just how he is in bed.

Because if you did do something wrong, why would he fuck you? It brings you pleasure

He'd rather jerk off in front of you

Or make you deep throat him

Anything that gives him pleasure and avoids you of any

"Please.....I'm sorry....Sorry for being a brat" You sob in front off him. After giving him a head, not only did you have his cum on his lips, but his cock was still hard.

"You think this is what I want to hear from your right now?' Sunghoon snaps at you, holding you hair tightly and pushing your head towards his cock again.

"Fucking suck" You take a breath before taking him into his mouth. Maybe just maybe later tonight h'' wake you and let you cum...maybe just maybe.

[five-one-two-station]

@halfalive-chaos - Context

Oh BOY do I have some big giant feelings about this!

The short answer is yes, I think people/The Audience has forgotten this - but I also don't think it's entirely their fault.

Part of the reason I was really impressed by how Arcane used and executed the scene, and why I keep going on about it, is that this whole subject is kind of an ongoing concern of mine.

I very sincerely think that the documented decline of, not just sex, but horniness, in media has narrowed the spectrum of contexts we're used to seeing sex and sexuality happen in our storytelling, in ways that are doing us harm.

Because mainstream media has started shying away from engaging with sex to the degree that it has, sex is now almost invariably depicted in extremes - either "Aren't we edgy big boys now?" stuff like The Boys, or miserably sad traumatic drama grist - or else not at all.

And because "regular" tv has been scared off showing sex, it's vanishingly rare to see characters who are in love have sex, or to be sexual as an expression of that, certainly without some negative element to it.

That means we're almost never asked to think of it in terms of sincere, meaningful character communication, or as a storytelling mechanism, or ever presented with it in the context of a positive wider relationship.

I think the hazard of this is obvious - if our media and storytelling doesn't engage with healthy sex in that wider context, or use it purposefully, then we're conceding the whole conversation around it to porn, to novelty edgelordism, and grimdark miseryfests. Those things will define all our language and imagery around it, and the only time we'll ever see it will be upsetting, harmful or ugly. When it is easier to stumble across a scene of rape than it is to see a consenting woman orgasm, it's little wonder people can become reflexively suspicious of any sexuality at all.

But even when it's not so extreme as that, more often than not it's depicted as a casual fling instead, divorced from a bigger picture, or a distraction, an alternative to a grander and truer romantic interest. There's nothing at all wrong with sex for pleasure, don't misunderstand me, but it's odd that our media landscape has engineered a situation where depictions of sex in the context of a bigger love story almost never happen. It would seem then that we can have one or the other - sex or romance - but never at once.

And we're diminishing it with all of this. We're saying this incredibly important, intense, uniquely vulnerable and intimate feature of the human experience doesn't matter enough to talk about. We're saying that sex and love don't have any functional overlap. Even at best, we're pretending that sex isn't important in relationships, or increasingly, that the only good sex is... well... sexless. Sterile. Permissable and virtuous only when it's so "clean" and so perfect in circumstance that it becomes an unattainably impossible kind of ceremony.

The venue must be perfect. The characters must be not only unimpeachable, but historically and permanently so, and exactly as faultless as each other - they must be exactly the same social status, age, background, emotional state and situation. There can be no power imbalance or even a risked perception of one. No chequered history to leave behind, no overcome adversities, nothing that had to be learned. No transgressions to have been worked through, and comprehensively put to rest now.

Indeed, the moment must be so sublimely judged that it's unlikely to ever actually arise in a drama to start with; the characters must be in such a stable situation that there's no actual storytelling to be done here to warrant the scene occurring in the first place.

Which is convenient, because in this framework, the only unproblematic sex is the sex nobody can possibly have anyway. Because nobody can have "perfect" sex. That's not how it works - the fundamental nature of intimacy is taking each other for what you actually are, in all of the reality involved. If it can't be messy, it's not true.

All of this comes with extra points and splinters too when it comes to the matter of lesbian sex in particular, and the complicated history of how we've been either exploited for disposable male titilation, or else rendered chastely invisible by well intended feminists of all persuasions. We were already being presented with a sex or romance dichotomy, and never mind if either one worked.

It's a dysfunctional either/or. Asexuals & friends notwithstanding, physical intimacy is an incredibly important feature of the lives we spend together, and the bodies we live our lives in. And as much as we'd like to think we're all too cool and aloof for it, for most of us lust is impossible to entirely detach from sentiment, when it comes to the real people we form bonds with.

People falling in love want to fuck each other. People who are in love want to fuck each other. People fall in love in the process of fucking each other. It's not some abstract thing that happens in isolation to our feelings for each other.

I don't think it's good for us to perform such weird acrobatics to pretend none of this is true, whatever the reason for doing so; but that is effectively what modern media does.

And I think we're all poorer for it. We're poorer for missing out on the most private, intimately human kinds of moments in our stories that live in the space where love and lust can intersect. Because that's the only place those moments happen.

[notthegrouch]

The reasoning of "just a tool" shows an incredible understatement of understanding of how much the generative AI is impacting the professional fields, and as a consequence of that, the aspirations of amateurs.

A famous saying in the artistic and literary world is "Ideas are cheap". it's the actual work that goes into the execution that makes art art, and that doesn't have to mean that it all needs to be photorealistic, but that does mean that the process of the art creation is often what is talked about when you see it in museums or at competitions.

Jackson Pollock splattered paint on a canvas, Marcel Duchamp declared a urinoir to be a fountain and it was art; the idea was cheap. The boldness of actually going all in on the simplicity of that process and taking it seriously, openly and honestly showing that their process WAS in fact just splattering paint or picking up ready made objects, that was all very new.

in the same way, you can't really pull that off nowadays anymore, because you'll just be someone who imitates Pollock or Duchamps.

Some artists, however use large machines and robotics. This looks very cool! The Robotic art piece Can't Help Myself has been seen on tumblr, the sad robotic arm that does a little dance as dark red liquid oozes out, until it seemingly panics and quickly starts wiping the liquid back into itself. The machinery is used here as "just a tool" too.

But the incredibly widespread application of AI art combines all the worst factors of all of this; AI makes it very easy to execute any cheap idea and get an artwork that looks decent at first glance, but there's nothing really bold or honest about pretending to have made an oil painting while you know nothing about oil, paint, or color theory. There is barely any process to speak of, other than the prompt/programming that was offered to the AI and the amount of iterations the computer went through until you reach the desired result. but since most of the process happens through machine learning, we can't really peer into that in the same way that we can peer into humans without humanizing the machine. At the same time, because a lot of AI function via the internet (though of course not all of them do), there's also a little bit of obscuring that goes on when it comes to the process. in art, when I think of "just a tool", I think of a brush, a pencil, a pen. in some cases a personal computer, or a drawing tablet. house hold items, that, although some can be expensive, or big, are ultimately clearly tools.

What I DON'T think of when someone mentions tools are factory machines that could replace 90% of a work force. When a car factory is managed by 100 mechanics, and 90 of them get replaced by robotic arms, it's not the correct terminology to say "don't worry, that arm is just a tool". And if hundreds or thousands of amateur crafters suddenly start building shoddy cars in their back yard because they could afford to have such a mechanical arm installed, would you still feel safe on the road? The amount of mechanical arms suddenly being on the market drives up the prices of computers. Generative AI is that mechanical arm. The internet is being overrun with quickly made, shoddy art, often presented as realistic depictions of either hand made art, or even real life photography. AI art that, within it's own picture, boldly shows to be AI art is very rare and unsurprisingly THAT is the AI art that can also be seen in museums sometimes. At the same time the popularity of the AI art causes a host of environmental concerns and unforeseen political problems. Art, messaging and propaganda is made at a scale never seen before, and it's doing damage.

So when people say AI is just a tool, no it's not. It's a factory machine capable of replacing an artistic team, being put into the hands of the common people, and treated as if it's merely a pencil. And it is spreading very very cheap ideas very very quickly.

i literally dont care what your excuse for using AI is. if you didnt put your own effort into making it im not putting my own effort into interacting with it.

[radioactiverats]

thoughts on seekers locking landing gears and spiraling in the sky as a gesture of trust, similar to how eagles do that courtship spiral :3c or even just twirling in the air together a little too close. yes its probably really dangerous, but nothing beats being in total sync in the air

OH >:3c Absolutely in love with this. THE RITUALS ARE INTRICATE. I'm gnawing on this from various angles. Firstly thinking about this being a seeker-specific aspect of Conjunx Ritus (mutual Act of Devotion??) and it would honestly be so beautiful :,)

My mind jumped to this,, (angst warn)

---

In early stages of the war, when the exhilaration of following Megatron had worn off and bots were starting to realise their sparks weren't worth his doomed-to-fail commands (not enough experience yet..). When he was mostly relying on fear to keep his troops in order before he'd gained their full loyalty, there had been an Incident. You remember it like it was yesterday, because Starscream had looked ashen when he came back that night, and you'd never, ever seen that expression on his faceplate before.

You sit up, shuffling over to make room on the berth as Starscream plunks himself heavily down. After a few cycles of increasingly uneasy silence, he finally manages to speak.

"Two seekers have offlined."

His iron grip on the edge of the berth tell you the circumstances of their deaths were not straightforward.

"What do you know of Conjunx Ritus?"

You actually take a nanoklik to think about it, which Starscream appreciates given the solemnity of the situation.

"I know there's four acts?" You finally say, suddenly embarrassed about your naivety. To be fair, you'd never really had a chance to consider the possibility. Thankfully, Starscream just nods briefly.

"Correct. The fourth and final stage is called an Act of Devotion. Back on Vos, we seekers had a different way of performing it."

Starscream takes a klik to collect himself. You can't help but wonder if he has a Conjunx. If he does, he's certainly never talked about them.

"It's called a Death Spiral," Starscream finally says, voice horse. "Two seekers soar to the very fringes of the atmosphere and there, before the eyes of the universe itself, lock their servos and their landing gears before free falling back to planetside."

Beside him, you're enthralled to learn about this aspect of your own culture that you'd never had a chance to become familiar with. At the same time, you're picking up on a strange emotion that clogs his vocaliser and the faraway look in his optics, so you remain quiet as he resets his vocaliser.

"At the very last second," Starscream continues softly, "the two seekers pull up immediately before making contact with the ground."

It sounds incredibly dangerous, but you're enraptured by the idea. You know this because Starscream has made you practice something similar in the past, and there were a few times you genuinely thought you wouldn't make it through training in one piece even with landing gears. It undoubtedly took a lot of skill to harness the winds without the aid of thrusters, and even more courage and trust. You supposed that was where the love came in.

"It's... exquisite." Starscream offlines his optics, shakes his helm before turning to look at you, a ragged sort of pain spiking jaggedly through his EM field.

"I can imagine," You murmur quietly. It sounded like he was telling a story, back then. One from experience.

"Earlier today, two seekers engaged in a Death Spiral. But they didn't pull up." Starscream ex-vents raggedly, tilting his helm up to stare at the ceiling. "It was a pact."

For a klik you just sit there, frozen in silent horror. When he speaks again, it's through gritted denta. "Megatron has now enforced a ban against Conjunx Ritus between seekers."

You had a few guesses as to why. Seekers' valuable frame types to the Decepticon cause meant that Megatron couldn't afford to lose them. However, as increasing numbers of troops grew discontent with his leadership, Megatron as usual had decided to silence them through cruelty. It seemed that today's incident had been the last straw.

---

Outside the context of courtship rituals though, I see twirling together as a show of trust that anyone can do, from sires/carriers/sparklings to amica endura, cos flying and the skies are so deeply entwined with the seeker identity. Imagine just flying with your bro and the exhilaration of doing a complicated spin together, so close you can feel the heat of each other's engines on your plates before zooming apart again, the sound of your laughter carried on the winds. Must be so good to be in sync like that fr.

That being said, I think Starscream's determined to make sure cadet never feels alone in the skies, which is meant to be your home. Maybe in better times, I can see him joining cadet for training - the moves are a breeze for him, but it warms his spark to see you so happy while in the air. Not sure they get the luxury of the Autobots' "wanna go for a drive?", especially since his interactions with you must be under the guise of training - so Megatron won't see you as a target. Still, one must imagine Starscream happy.

Thank you for the lovely ask!!!!!!! Another yap... but in the process I have learned so much about eagles... I will put some sofas in my inbox so asks are received comfortably

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

double take

pairing: stranger!jisung (??) x fem!reader

summary: based off of double take by dhruv <3

tags/warnings: jisung is probably headover heels, kind of rushed, type of thing to make your heart race turning red as i write this, not that proofread (as always)

a/n: guys im actually obsessed with how this turned out omg....erm anyways.... love yall <3

alternate version....

masterlist....

"boy, you got me hooked onto something, who could say that they saw us coming? tell me, do you feel the love?...."

The first time Han Jisung saw you, the world tilted slightly. You were sitting on a park bench, headphones over your ears, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you scribbled something into a notebook. The golden rays of the setting sun painted you in hues of warmth, and Jisung’s breath hitched. He’d only meant to take a quick walk to clear his head after a long day at the studio, but now he was rooted to the spot.

He took a double take, blinking as if to confirm that you weren’t some mirage conjured by his overworked mind. You were real. And you were beautiful.

The second time he saw you, it was raining. Hard. Sheets of water pelted the streets, and Jisung cursed himself for forgetting an umbrella. As he hurried toward the nearest coffee shop, drenched and shivering, he nearly collided with you as you stepped out.

“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed, your voice soft but clear even against the drumming rain. Your eyes met his, and something inside him shifted.

“It’s okay,” he stammered, suddenly feeling every drop of water clinging to his skin. You held out a spare umbrella without hesitation.

“Here. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

He wanted to protest, but the sincerity in your gaze stopped him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing yours as he took the umbrella.

Weeks passed, and Jisung found himself frequenting that same park and coffee shop, hoping for another chance encounter. It was unlike him to act this way—he wasn’t usually one for romantic daydreams. But there was something about you that drew him in, something he couldn’t quite put into words.

When he finally saw you again, it was at the park. This time, you weren’t alone. A small dog trotted beside you, its leash wrapped loosely around your wrist. Jisung’s heart raced as he debated whether to approach you. Before he could decide, your dog yanked the leash from your grasp and sprinted straight toward him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you called, hurrying after the dog.

Jisung crouched down, catching the leash with ease. “Gotcha,” he said, chuckling as the dog licked his hand enthusiastically.

You stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath. “Thank you. She’s… a little too excited sometimes.”

“No problem. She’s cute,” he replied, glancing up at you. “Just like her owner.”

Your cheeks flushed, and Jisung’s own face burned as he realized what he’d just said. “I mean…”

You laughed, light and genuine. “Thank you. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Jisung,” he said, holding out a hand. When you took it, his chest tightened, and he couldn’t help but smile.

As days turned into weeks, you and Jisung grew closer. Coffee dates turned into late-night walks, shared laughter, and quiet moments of understanding. He learned about your love for music, how you’d spend hours lost in your own little world with a pair of headphones and a notebook. In turn, he shared his own dreams and insecurities, baring parts of himself he rarely showed anyone.

But there was always a part of him that hesitated, a small voice in the back of his mind that wondered if he was reading too much into your smiles and lingering touches. Were you just being kind? Or did you feel the same pull he did every time your eyes met?

One evening, as the two of you sat on that same park bench where he’d first seen you, Jisung worked up the courage to ask. The sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, the air filled with the soft hum of cicadas.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

You turned to him, your expression open and curious. “Of course.”

He took a deep breath. “Do you… ever think about us? About what we could be?”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, his heart plummeted. But then you smiled, reaching out to take his hand.

“All the time,” you admitted. “I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Relief and joy flooded through him, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve been thinking about you since the day I saw you,” he confessed. “You… you make everything brighter.”

You squeezed his hand, your own smile mirroring his. “Then I guess we’re on the same page.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Jisung leaned in, his heart pounding. And when your lips met, it was as if the universe itself held its breath, the moment stretching into eternity.

In that kiss, every unspoken word, every lingering glance, and every hesitant hope found its answer. And for the first time in a long time, Jisung felt complete.

hope yall enjoyed <3

todays writing playlist....

peaches by justin beiber and double take by dhruv (on repeat lmao)

*bold is explicit*

my playlist

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

[sinnabarmoth]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Zayne x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes.)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Sylus)

You heard the front door open and smiled. “Welcome home, how was work my darling?” you called to Zayne from the kitchen.

“I’m…alive.” he sighed.

“Oh dear,” you put the soup on low heat to keep it warm and went out to see him. Zayne was slumped against the front door toeing off his shoes. There were deep lines etched into his forehead, bags under his eyes, and his hair was askew from running his hands through it. “What happened? Something go wrong at work?”

“No. Nothing wrong but the amount of work being put on my plate.” he let you help him out of his overcoat. “I probably would have stayed later to get some more things done but I knew if I did that you’d come over and drag me out by the nape of my neck.”

“Damn right I would have. I haven’t spent the last couple years instilling a sense of work/life balance in you for you to backslide now.” you pulled him in for a hug. “You work so hard, you need to remember to take breaks when you need them. You’re not some machine.”

“I know,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Which is why I came home. I know you’d force me to relax no matter what.”

“You know me so well. Now go on, get out of your work clothes and come join me for dinner. I made a very nutritious vegetable soup--”

“And you made sure to--”

“With no carrots. I know.” you rolled your eyes. “And I also bought taro ice cream for dessert.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. “Is it possible we can have dessert first?”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Zaynie. But I spent an hour making this soup, you’re getting a bowl full of that first.” you gave his butt a little pat as you ushered him toward the bedroom.

You ladled soup into the waiting bowls on the table and sat down as Zayne reemerged looking much more comfortable. You let him complain about his day and vent his frustrations with the changes they were doing around the hospital that he didn’t think were actually necessary. Your feet bumped against his under the table, reminding him that he was home and didn’t need to worry about work any more tonight.

Slowly he started to relax and the life came back into his eyes as he ate the soup. There was your husband. You leaned across the table and took his free hand, stroking it lightly with your thumb. He looked up at you through the fringe of his hair.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I was just thinking about how all day all you do is take care of everyone else. People put you in charge of their health, the health of their friends and family, their very lives really. It’s a lot of pressure. It makes me worry sometimes that you forget to take care of yourself, let someone dote on you for a change.” you squeezed his hand. “I want to be that person for you.”

“You are that person every day.” a gentle smile grew on his face. “Every time I come home and see your smiling face I forget all my other worries. I know that you will always be there to take my coat and lift my spirits and tell me to just lay back and take it easy for the night. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, how much I appreciate you.”

“Aw Zayne!” you got up and kissed his cheek. “You really are the sweetest, my darling.”

“I’m just telling the truth. I can hardly remember a time before I had you in my life. I must have been a machine to have coped with it all.”

“You were never a machine. You just didn’t have someone to remind you to look after yourself. Sometimes people need someone to come in and remind them that they are a person too. After that, they learn to do it for themselves. Do you think the Zayne from a couple years ago would have left work on time when he knew he could get more stuff done if he stayed?”

He shook his head. “No. I would have been there till midnight, probably would have slept there too.”

“Exactly. Now look at you, you come home to me without me having to so much as send a text. I helped pull you out but you’ve been doing marvelously at keeping yourself afloat. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“My flower…” he gazed up at you with absolute love and adoration.

“And it looks like you finished your soup so if you still want it we can have ice cream now.” you said brightly.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite.” you ruffled his hair and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer. You were going to scoop it out but decided to just grab two spoons and stuck them in the carton. “Since you worked so hard today and you’re being extra sweet I think we can have a straight from the carton kinda night. Have as much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” you sat yourself on the edge of the table and scooped up some ice cream with your spoon. “Want me to feed you as well?”

His face started turning red. “No--I mean, not unless you really want to.”

You chuckled and held the spoon out for him. He licked the ice cream off and once he had you bent closer and pecked his lips, chasing the lingering sweetness on them. You noticed when you started to pull away he leaned in closer, chasing your lips.

You smiled, cupping his face. “Is my doctor perhaps craving something a little sweeter than ice cream?”

He gulped, staring up at you through half lidded eyes. “I mean I wouldn’t mind…” he trailed off.

“Come now, my darling. You know better than to not finish your sentence.” you said in a quiet, coaxing voice. “What is it you want?”

“I’d like to go back to the bedroom, my flower.” he said, his spine straightening.

“Much better.” you pulled him out of his chair and quickly tossed the ice cream back in the freezer. “We can finish that later. Right now I think what my hard working husband needs is a thorough massage.”

[lananiscorner]

Coldest hot take that ever took, but if people can understand the meaning of the word "nostalgia" and the sentiment of "god, remember when we were kids and our biggest worry in the world was whether we could have ice cream for dessert after dinner?", then they should be able to understand the urge to consume something that hearkens back to a time when the world seemed simpler (it never was, you just had adults taking over lots of shit for you and shielding you from the worst, ideally). A time when it was good enough for you to just exist and have fun and maybe learn about the importance of courage and friendship and kindness.

Also, I think a lot of the stigma around adults consuming media for kids is that puritanical panic around "but what if these adults are gonna corrupt/groom/abuse our kids???" to which all I can say is:

1) adults who want to do that will find a way to do it even without watching My Little Pony or Steven Universe or whatever.

2) Not every adult who consumes media for kids is a pedo. See the entire topic of this post.

3) You SHOULD want your kids to interact in spaces where there are adults around as well, because learning how to interact with people who are not the same age/ethnicity/affiliation as you is actually a really important life skill.

4) It will help them learn what healthy interactions with adult strangers look like, which will make it easier for them to notice when an interaction is not healthy (e.g. why is this one user so eager to get a picture of what I'm wearing today, none of the others have ever asked me for that).

5) By having adult strangers around that are not affiliated with their parents in any way, they will have someone to reach out to in case they are actually, in real life, being groomed or abused by someone they don't trust to report to their parents (e.g. dad's best friend, mom's sister, the teacher both their parents get along with so well, etc.)

"Fun" trivia: Many years ago, my mom and I used to be part of a massive anime forum/art posting site where the average age was something like 13 or so, and thanks to both of us commenting on art work a lot, we became "that one nice lady who always says what she likes about my art" and eventually "the one nice lady who's been nice enough for long enough that I want to DM her". And you would not believe the sheer amount of kids we ran into who lived in very troubled (and sometimes seriously dangerous) homes, who did not feel safe talking to their parents and who sometimes had no frame of reference for how stuff that RL adults did to them was wrong until they interacted with us in comments and DMs and realized what healthy interactions with adults at a respectful distance looked like.

Trying to remove adults who are not being creeps from fandoms for media for kids helps exactly no one other than the actual creeps who will simply pretend that they are 12 themselves.

I really have no patience for posts talking about "adults who only watch kids' cartoons," because, like...people accuse me of "only watching kids' cartoons," despite all evidence to the contrary. It doesn't matter how much I talk about other adult media I like, if I post too many things in a row about Steven Universe or The Dragon Prince or The Owl House, people come out of the goddamn woodwork to accuse me of "only watching kids' shows."

So I really can't take people seriously when they start talking about the supposed "problem" of "adults who only watch kids' shows." Are the "adults who only watch kids' cartoons" in the room with us right now, or are you basing your entire opinion of people solely on their fandom blog? Like, come on.

It makes me think of the couple years I spent volunteering in a school library. The librarian talked a lot about how it's hurtful to enforce "reading at grade-level" on every student with no nuance. Teachers would try to force their students to check out books "at proper grade-level," instead of letting students pick out whatever they wanted (even if it was "too easy"), and it resulted in a lot of students deciding books were boring, too hard, and only good for making them feel stupid. They started to hate reading entirely, because people constantly shut them down and told them they were stupid for not reading the right things. This was especially brutal on disabled students.

I personally apply the same philosophy to adults. You don't know what someone might struggle with, you don't know what someone's history is. You might think a piece of media is "too simple," but that's your experience and your opinion. People learn and grow and experience the world at different paces, and what seems to you like a "simplistic" piece of media may be the most complex, illuminating piece of media someone else has ever had the opportunity to experience. It doesn't make them "stupid" or "childish," and believing that it does is cruel and counterproductive. You cannot wield shame as a fucking cudgel if your goal is education, support, and helping people expand their horizons.

I don't think a culture of shame is helpful. I don't think a culture of "if you like 'childish' things, it means you're too stupid for anything else" is helpful. I don't think constantly making fun of children's media does anything other than demean people--and not just the people who enjoy it, but the people who make it, too.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ BEGGIN’ ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…chris loves to make you beg. asshole.

cw: SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), begging, freaky, dumbification, creampie

based on this from like 17 years ago LMAO

you couldn't help but feel a familiar tingle between your thighs as chris’ voice filled the room, his words dripping with that familiar mix of dominance and playful teasing. it was a game you both loved to play—well, chris more than you—but sometimes, his stubbornness could be frustratingly arousing.

“come on, angel," he said, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "you know the rules. y’want something, you gotta ask for it."

you pouted, knowing exactly what he was referring to. the bulge in his pants was evident, and you craved every inch of him.

but chris—that mean motherfucker—had a thing for making you beg, and today, he seemed to be in a particularly teasing mood. every time he acted like this, it was like he was just sucking the dignity out of you.

“please, chris," you whined, batting your eyelashes at him. "you know i want it. why do you have to be so mean?"

he chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. chris loved to see you squirm, and your feisty attitude only fueled his desire to tease.

“mean? me? oh, i’m just making sure you learn some manners, pretty. you can't always get what you want by pouting." that’s…such bullshit! chris was, in fact, mean.

frustration and desire battled within you. you wanted to straddle him and take what was rightfully yours, but something about his dominant demeanor always made you hesitate.

chris had a way of making you submit, and you secretly loved the power he held over your body.

"fine," you huffed, crossing your arms. “i want you. happy now?"

chris’ eyes darkened at your bold words, but he maintained his playful facade. "that’s a good start, but i think you can do better. i wanna hear you beg, baby. you know how much i love it.”

unfortunately, you did know how much he loved it. and it drove you absolutely fucking insane.

you felt your cheeks flush, both from anger and arousal. chris was pushing your buttons, and you were determined to show him you could play this game too.

“i—fuck—i need you, chris," you stammered, feeling a little embarrassed but also excited by the vulnerability in your voice. "please, don't tease me anymore. i’m so wet for you." you’d finally given in and dropped any ounce of dignity you ever had to the bottom of the atlantic ocean.

he took a step closer, his tall frame towering over you. "wet, hm? well, that's a start. but i want to hear you say it like you mean it. tell me how bad you want my dick."

is he fucking serious? this man must be insane.

your heart raced as you actually processed his words. chris was demanding, but you craved his touch. you wanted him to know that you were desperate for his hard length inside you.

"...i want your dick, chris," you whispered. “really want it…”

a satisfied smirk played on his lips, and you knew you had finally hit the right note. chris loved to hear you surrender to your desires.

“that’s my good girl," he purred, reaching out to stroke your cheek gently. "but i think we should take this slow. i want to savor every moment."

fuck.

as he spoke, his fingers trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. you shivered, craving his touch everywhere.

"please, chris," you begged, your voice breaking. “i can’t take it anymore—i need you now."

he chuckled low, his breath hot against you. "impatient, aren't we? but i think i’ll make you wait a little longer. you want something, you use your words, pretty. or maybe i’ll just stop right here and leave you hanging. you wouldn't want that, would you?”

your breath caught in your throat. the thought of him stopping now, after teasing you to the brink of madness, was almost unbearable. you needed release, and chris unfortunately held the key.

“no, please," you pleaded, your voice thick with need. "i’ll do anything. just don't stop. i need you, chris. please fuck me." wow! where the hell did that come from! guess you just really have your sights set…

his eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took a step back, enjoying the power he held over you. "on your knees, baby, cmon. show me how much you want it."

complying without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, your eyes never leaving his. his strained against his pants, and you couldn't wait to set it free.

“that’s it," he encouraged, his voice husky. "now, tell me again how much you want this." you reached for his belt, your fingers trembling.

“i-i want your cock, chris. so bad—please, i—“

with a swift motion, he unbuckled his belt, and you eagerly pulled down his zipper. his thick, hard length sprang free, and you couldn't resist leaning in to lick his tip.

“oh, fuck," he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair. "that’s it, baby. take what you want, go ahead..shit..”

you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. chris hissed, his grip tightening in your hair as you took him deeper, savoring the taste of him.

“fuck, yes," he growled, his hips thrusting gently. "suck it, pretty—c’mon.”

you moaned around his length, the vibrations driving him wild. chris was already close, and you wanted to taste his release, but of course he had other plans.

“enough, baby," he said, pulling you away gently. "i want to feel your pretty pussy—i’ve teased you enough, haven't i?"

oh, he definitely has!

you whimpered, craving his touch between your legs. "yes, please. i need you inside me…”

chris smirked, his eyes full of promise. "oh, i’ll give it to you, baby. but first, i want to hear you beg for it one more time."

seriously.

as he spoke, he trailed his fingers along your inner thighs, making you squirm with anticipation. you were putty in his hands, and the both of you knew it.

“please, chris," you begged, your voice hoarse. "fill me up—i can't take it anymore."

he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "that’s what i like to hear, baby. now, let's see if you can take all of me."

with that, he positioned himself at your entrance, teasingly rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, making you gasp and arch your back.

"please, chris—" you cried out, desperate for him to fill the void he had created. and just as you thought he would deny you again, he thrust forward, stuffing you full in one smooth motion. you cried out, your body adjusting to his size as he stretched you deliciously.

"fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his hips moving in a slow, torturous rhythm.

he pulled out almost entirely, leaving you gasping, before slamming back into you, hitting all the right spots. you clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to pull him closer.

but chris was relentless, his thrusts calculated to drive you wild. he knew exactly how to make you beg, and he wasn't going to let up anytime soon.

“mmph—chris—i—y’so big…so full—mmh!” you pathetically stammered out. chris chuckled darkly. “yeah, baby? fillin’ you up so well, hm? fuck—take this shit so well..•

as he continued to fuck into you, your body trembled on the edge of release, craving the climax he was withholding. you were putty in his hands, and you knew that this time, chris was going to make you work for it.

“pl-please, chris," you whimpered, your voice raw from pleading. "i-i can't! i need to cum—please—“

he smirked, his eyes full of mischief. "not yet, baby. i want to hear you beg some more. tell me how much you need it."

you were beyond words, your body trembling with need. you could hardly think—your mind was foggy, barely any thoughts flowing through. chris was fucking you absolutely stupid. he had pushed you to the brink, and you were desperate for release.

"...i need—ngh—it, chris," you managed to gasp. “fuck—please—so close."

with a growl, he complied, his thrusts becoming more urgent, slamming into you with abandon. you cried out, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

"that’s it, baby," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. "cum for me. let me feel it, cmon.”

and as if his words were the final push you needed, you shattered around him, your orgasm ripping through your body as you cried out his name. “fuckkk, that’s my girl.” chris followed soon after, his release hot and intense as he filled you with his essence.

sure, chris was mean, especially with all this shit he pulled.

but, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

a/n: HI so this kinda sucked but i needed to write one of my annual singular smuts in between all of the fluff and angst ive been doing LMFAO hope you liked it anyway

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

[parker-artio]

Bruce Wayne is super good with little kids and babies- like scarily good with them. Sure, he’s got six kids of his own and even a few honorary children, but all of them came at a point when he didn’t need to know that. None of them were in diapers, they knew how to get dressed themselves, how to communicate their wants and needs, ect. They were old enough to not need to know the baby, toddler, pre-school/early-school, time period stuff.

But Bruce knows how to do that stuff. He knows how to change a diaper, how to give a baby a bottle, how to help a kid get dressed, how to make a kid understand their decisions, ect. He’s good at it too. No one knows how he knows this. Not even Alfred. Bruce plans to taking this to the grave, no one will know, and he hopes no one find out.

But there is one person who knows- well a small group of people who know, and that’s a group of young women who have kids all about 9 to 10 years younger than Dick. (Around the same age as Tim and Stephanie.) The only reason they know is because they learned it with him.

Bruce was young, impulsively adopted a young kid who he saw himself in and when he finally realized what he did. But he couldn’t stop it, he’s grown attached to the kid already. So he did the only rational thing. He looked up ‘Parenting Classes for New Young Parents’ and he got very few results. But that was probably on him for being so vague. He goes to the first class and immediately realizes his mistake. The class he picked was for young expecting mothers. Or young mothers who just had their baby’s. Not for 8 year olds.

Obviously the ladies were surprised to see Bruce fucking Wayne at a parenting class. He was older than some of them, younger than other of them, but what they all knew is that this was Bruce Wayne. He had a reputation. So what does Bruce do?

He plays along- obviously.

The Teacher (literally shitting bricks): Hi… how about we all go around and introduce ourselves?

No one goes forth all still just a bit stunned.

Bruce (also shitting bricks and trying to make a cover story on the spot): Hello, my name is Bruce Wayne… you probably knew that, but I’m here to learn about how to care for a baby. You never know with me.

One of the other ladies: Best to learn early!

All of those ladies have a cover story on how they met Bruce Wayne, none of them will actually admit it, especially since after all of the classes were over he revealed to have taken in a kid who was already about 10 years old. They immediately realized why he looked so confused walking into the class the first day. No one knows. But that small group of ladies. Bruce might recognize one of them out in public and greet her by name, and they’d do the same back.

So when Batman find a baby after a wide scale attack and knows how to care for it- before any of the other Justice League members can- they don’t ask any question’s. Hell he looks scarier taking care of the baby than he does when he’s all moody and brooding.

[kaisaerinlover]

if you could describe kaiser in two words you would be forced to use the words mean and conniving, if you even dared to speak any bad about him that is. you darent even have a bad thought about him recently though, because he’s been ignoring you. he was so nice before? what happened? why doesn’t he like you anymore? is he too scared to break up? what’s going on?

kaiser can guess your thought process exactly, it’s funny really. funny how predictable and dense you are; it’s fine though. he doesn’t care, he likes you this way, panicky and anxious that he doesn’t like you anymore. he likes you a lot, that’s why he’s doing this, you know? after all, relationships don’t work for him unless he plays a little dirty with the other. manipulation is a staple of any relationship actually, or any sort of abuse. no one stays without toxicity, that’s not the way of the world. not the way of his world - and as far as he’s concerned, his world morphs into your world. when you choose to date him you unknowingly choose to abide by the laws of life he lived and continues to live by.

i mean, it’s not like he wants to ignore you (he does), it’s not like he wants to see how disgustingly despair filled you are every time he brushes you off like you’re nothing more than a stranger to him (he does), it’s not like he has a choice in any of this, he has to manipulate you, it’s just how life works (it’s not). if you were half as intellectual as he is, you would realise what he’s doing, but he thinks you should be thankful. thankful that he’s putting in this effort and going to these lengths just to ensure you won’t leave him anytime soon. he just loves you too much to let you go now. he let himself get attached to you, so this is your punishment. human emotions and attachments are the bane of his very existence, he hates them. he doesn’t like being so dependant on someone else, doesn’t like the way you affect him and his mood, hates feeling loved and hates knowing he has to give love in return; it’s difficult to learn after everything he’s experienced in life. this is your punishment for getting him so entranced with you. deal with it now, if you wanna date him this is what you get.

he’s a pretentious man, he won’t even label emotions as, well, just that: emotions. he labels them human emotions. he really thinks he’s way above them, knows himself as a god. but then again; it’s the opposite. he’s a subhuman piece of shit. what a complicated mind; any psychology student, therapist or simply just psychology interested freak would have a field day with him. but here he is instead with you. punishing you with his indifference for engraving yourself so deeply within his soul.

poor you, when he dismisses you the last time and goes to leave the house you break and cry. you cry like a baby, and he almost feels bad. only almost, not quite there yet, the face you make when you cry is quite beautiful, isn’t it? why does he do this to you? if he leaves you will he even come back? you can’t take it and you can’t risk it.

when kaiser feels you tug on his arm and hears your crying he smirks to himself before turning around. you’re easy; far too easy. he won. he turns around and stares at you, a stare so hard you swear it pierces right through you like a blade. “come on, d-don’t leave me-“ you somehow manage to sputter out between your arousing sobs. only a sicko like him could find something like this arousing, gross. his mask of nonchalance never slips though, what a crazy man he is, able to control and maintain everything; even his stimuli. control for the most part anyway. “hm?” he doesn’t even bother to give you a real worded answer, you’re not worth it are you?

kaiser is awfully good at mind games, he knows it, he’s enjoying playing with you. messing with your head, it’s even funner when he knows exactly what you’re thinking. you’re in shambles, to say the very least. all you can see in his eyes is contempt towards you. why is he leaving you? you don’t want that, is leaving you really so simple? so easy? such a mundane and effortless task? are you that unimportant he can disregard you and treat you like this without a second thought? is it because other girls are better? they have a knack for something that you just quite never grasped? how is that fair? he’s your whole world, hell you’re struggling right now with him being cold towards you for, in retrospect, a short amount of time. and he is yet to even bat an eyelash at the mistreatment he’s giving you.

his tone is brimming with derision when he opens his mouth next; “what are you talking about? dumb girl?” you feel so embarrassed, what does he mean? no, maybe he’s testing you, it’s a test isn’t it? to see if you’ll beg? you will, you would, you can, you’re going to, you’d do everything to ensure he stays. even if it’s degrading. dehumanising. even if anyone who found out how hard you begged for his love and affection would be disgusted with your desperation and drop you. you would do anything. “j-jus’ don’t leave me micha- i-i don’t even know what i did- please-“ you beg. and you plead. you’re so cute when you’re this desperate, playing right into his hands like putty. you’re priceless, adorable really. he has to put effort in to hide the smirk that wants to show on his face so badly. but then you say something that he’s heard a million times before. he’s heard you say it before too. but right now it pisses him off and makes him sick. makes him angry when you choke out through your tears a weak declaration of love.

“i l-love you-“ he hates it. he’s heard it so many times, from fans and empty headed fangirls, from you as well. but right now it makes him want to vomit. he’s angry, doesn’t know how to react to it in this situation. and it shows on his face. shows in his actions when he grabs you so roughly and smashes his lips into yours. when he pulls away, he’s looking into your eyes so deeply. you’re an idiot, you should know what loving him entails. he thinks you should shut your mouth. your admission made him feel guilty. god he wishes you’d just shut the fuck up; but his eyes are telling you differently. silently pleading for something he’s never allowed himself to want. and you can tell too, stupid as you are, you’re somehow able to read what he desires in the moment from his eyes alone. “micha i l-love you” you sputter out again. he licks his lips as he watches a tear roll down your cheek and feels his insides churn, flutter, disintegrate and whatever else as you confess to him again.

it’s rare, that he feels this way i mean, totally and utterly rare. he feels sickened at your words. filled with guilt. you really love him and he really loves you too, he can’t fathom why he insists on treating you in this way. he really can’t. and he can’t fathom why he feels so much guilt over it, because everything he does is for himself. he’s a self indulgent man; that’s why he’s even more confused when he instinctively reaches out to wipe a tear running down your cheek away. he lives for himself and to make himself feel alive, tending to you doesn’t exactly fit into the equation most of the time, so he’s not sure why is body is subconsciously moving to aid you. he’s not sure why he’s suddenly aching to comfort you. he’s not sure why he’s reconsidering what he did by now. manipulating isn’t nice, only an idiot doesn’t know that, and he’s no idiot. he’s one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet in your life.

and you, sweet you, you’re hardly a victim of this anymore. you’re letting it happen, sitting and letting him do whatever he wishes with you. you’re as disgusting as he is in a way. he might have you wrapped around his thumb; he might be a master of manipulation, but you’ve had so many chances to leave yet you haven’t. because you’re dumb deep down. dumber than what he takes you for. as he dotes on you in a manner that he perceives is against his free will, you instantly feel at ease and better. you forget everything bad he just did to you. forget the weeks you spent having to play guessing games to work out why he’s suddenly giving you the icy cold treatment, you give in to his whims and relish in the attention he’s suddenly showering you in. it’s not that you’re entirely lacking in self awareness, no, quite the opposite actually. you’re just convinced he’s not all that bad, that deep down he’s not mean at all, he’s not evil to the core. and as much as even he would like that to be true, he knows it’s not. he had a rough start in life, a rough childhood, a rough few years. he’s never had it easy - but he can’t pretend that he hasn’t had any chances to change.

as he strokes your hair and feels you lean into his touch, he ponders all of the opportunities handed to him on a platter to rebuild himself into something better. remembers how all he’s ever wanted is to be loved, yet he pushes away or straight up abuses the ones who adore him the most. in a weird self loathing way, but also a display of superiority, to show how everyone around him is disposable, how important he is compared to everybody else. he’s convinced he’s evil down to the very blood courses through him, every cell in his body, and you’re convinced he’s not bad at all. that this is all some weird ploy. you’re not entirely sure, you just don’t want to believe he’s mean.

neither of you are wrong. he’s not as kindhearted as you’d like to believe he is and he’s not as cruel as he hates believing he is. the truth is that you’ve rubbed off on each other deeply. that your empathy and grace has moved him and shaped his person into something new entirely, and how his narcissistic tendencies and manipulative nature have made you more susceptible to his, well, his something. malice? shenanigans? there’s simply not a word in english to describe this man. whatever goes on in the brain of michael kaiser is complicated.

and as he holds you, rubs his hand up and down your back as he finds himself holding you so tightly, he realises he almost regrets ignoring you for all of that time. making you believe he really doesn’t love you anymore when he really loves you more than anything in the world. only almost though, because he enjoys having you like this. vulnerable and cute in his lap, longing for his attention. his beloved girl, only for him, all his. he knows it’s wrong but he has to keep doing what he’s doing to you. needs to keep up the cycle of nonstop manipulation, or you might leave. he doesn’t want you to become self aware and leave him.

and as you listen to his heartbeat whilst leaning your head against his toned chest, feeling some of his hair fall atop your head, you feel content. even if you’re self aware already, even though you know it’s so disturbing and messed up to even feel anything except contempt about this dynamic, you feel at peace. you and kaiser deserve each other after all, you’re just too stupid to realise it. kaiser remembers your earlier affections, the ones he left unreturned. you’re an idiot, he thinks. saying you love him, it has dark connotations. it doesn’t bestow anything but misfortune upon you, but you say it anyway. “meine geliebte, i love you so much” he whispers into your ear, nipping at it. he can feel his heart beating against your soft cheek. he lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t even know he was holding in. he feels tranquil too. this and soccer, this and hurting others, this and hurting you; this is what makes him feel alive. he feels alive. he knows he’s alive.

“love you too micha” you confess back, not like it’s much of a confession anyway, nor a secret. and as he strokes your hair gently and kisses your forehead, gives you these small gestures of love and tenderness in a rare moment of uncharacteristic softness, does these things for you as you confess back; he knows he’s alive.

he knows he’s alive because his heartbeat sped up a bit and he feels tingly inside. because of your words and your devote to him. he wonders if this is how you feel too. being gentle isn’t all so bad, but don’t get used to it.

you know not to get used to it, but even you can’t help but to fantasise about being a normal couple with kaiser.

not that either of you mind this, though. you thrive on the toxicity and uncertainty this dynamic provides, as twisted as it is. and at least you love each other. at least you’re pampered and provided with attention. at least kaiser found someone that makes him feel really and truly alive. someone he knows he can ensure won’t leave.