#and by no means do you deserve to be shamed for it

[girl-lostconnection]

Helldivers are just little freaks to me, freaky half feral dog creatures that are tossed to the meat grinder of war. Starving war dogs that do not understand what they are starving for exactly but nonetheless still chasing after what was demanded of them, hoping that maybe, MAYBE, if they go further-If they complete even more missions, they’d no longer feel that gnawing hunger even if it chips away at their very souls.

ANYWHO😌 this is reader to me

“Remember that you can’t save everyone. Remember that you have to try” YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME JESTER OH MY GODDDDDDD THE WAY MY HEART SANK. But yeah, you are spitting facts out here, I’m ready to sign under every word you are saying here.

@jesterinc, my G, this one’s for you

Helldiver!Reader who lives this long mostly because of the kindness and patient teaching from older divers. The shared knowledge, the shared manuals, shared camaraderie.

Reader who doesn’t know why Helldivers who are so much more skilful and who could (and by any standard should have) left them behind decided not to.

Question that keeps them up at night sometimes, question that ping pongs off the walls of their head, echoing louder when it’s too quiet.

Why-why-why-why-why?

Reader who doesn’t understand why these behemoths of war tried to help time after time after time.

They don’t get it until they got their first cadet joining in for a mission.

Jumpy tense thing, losing more bullets than actually hitting the enemy, not used to a recoil yet, not sure how to adjust the satellite tower, not very knowledgeable about the mechanics of battle that are their new home now.

(Everyone knows that Helldivers don’t die sleeping. Everyone knows that death is better than shame)

Reader who suddenly gets it why these older Helldivers helped them, why they carried a new pup on the battlefield, why wasn’t they just kicked to the side.

It is often said that Helldivers as a branch are one big pack of feral dogs.

Starved for scraps of approval, dying too young and snarling at every outsider. Feral creatures. Weapons of war.

Judgement rained from the sky on unsuspecting enemies.

It is often overlooked that the most prominent rule Helldivers live by is “we do not mock young in the field. We do not make them crawl and beg. We help. We were there once. We know how it feels to be a feral dog in eyes both enemies and allies. We know how it feels to be left behind. We do not leave ours behind”.

You that lives long enough to get a little bit closer in experience and skills to mammoths that helped you years ago to survive.

You who patiently covers for young cadet as they fumble with terminals.

What’s a little time wasted if this one might live long enough to crawl higher in rank.

What’s a little effort spared if you as divers already have to prove to everyone that you deserve to be here.

That you are not just dogs. That you deserve the same respect command shows to other branches.

You aren’t going to make cadet “prove themselves” when they have already passed the selection.

They are already here, aren’t they? Means they are worthy. Means they are yours.

Once Helldiver — always Helldiver.

It’s a constant journey and an uphill battle, you seeing first hand how fucking cruel life is to their branch.

How unfair command is. How hard missions are.

So what’s a little kindness shown if cadet behind them might live long enough to see the new generation of cadets.

If one day they too might become what you were to them today. What older Helldivers were to you when you started out.

Your branch is full of feral dogs and behemoths of battle, your branch is a dangerous thing (a grenade without a pin, a rifle without safety, a big bad wolf) hanging on by a thread of believing that your suffering can make the world a little better.

A little safer. A place where young cadets like this one will have more support, more training, more respect.

Simon watches you intently, eyes heavy with understanding, fingers twitching to reach out.

“Remember that you can’t save everyone, Captain”, he hums out, meeting your eyes in the reflection as you watch cadet buying new stratagems with excitement, their rank plate moving up.

Slowly, torturously slowly but steadily. Up-up-up.

They live thought the mission. They live through next three you walk them through. You won’t let them die. Not if you can help it.

“I know”, you muse back and there is phantom feel of hands on your shoulders, hands showing how to properly hold the rifle, hands dragging you out of hell because yeah, no one is gonna save Helldivers.

Other than Helldivers themselves.

You watch the young diver jog to the “Stratagem Hero” arcade, practically vibrating with excitement, eyes darting to you, asking for permission.

Their grin so wide when you nod to go ahead and try it, that you feel like their helmet might be illuminated from inside out.

They are painfully young and achingly fragile, not yet honed by years of work out in the field, their hands not yet calloused and burned one too many times.

Yeah, you remember that you can’t save everyone.

You also remember that you have to try.

[undomesticated-animal]

Honestly, body euphoria has done WONDERS for my ability to keep a physical self care routine, and I keep thinking back to Young Domi being so fucking OVERWHELMED by the thought of having to haul myself through the daily gauntlet of mirrors, lights, smells, self-shaming, and dysphoria inducing body modifictions made in a desperate bid to feel worthy of my skin. The idea that this could ever be anything but NEUTRAL AT BEST was laughable to me, so much so that I didn't even realize how terrified I felt by the possibility it could be real.

I can't go back and tell Past Domi all the things I understand now that I know would have mattered so much, but I can say them on the internet and maybe someone gets to learn them faster than I did.

Body euphoria isn't just for trans and intersex folks. And I mean this more than just "oh cis people should get gender ephoria too" (it's true!) because I also mean that the idea that body euphoria/dysphoria is neatly segmented up into little slices of life with no crossover is unrealistic and painful for everyone. Thinking that I was only allowed to care about my euphoria around gender actually made it REALLY hard to recognize I was having DYSphoria around my gender at all. After all, I avoided thinking about that in exactly the same ways I avoided thinking about the dysphoria around other aspects of my embodiment! I must just be bad at body positivity, "it's always easier to do for others than for myself 🤗 teehee" was a go to blow off for me when people asked me to confront how visibly uncomfortable I was in my body.

Because the thing is, it ISN'T easier to do for others than yourself. It really isn't. The part that's easier is avoiding the shame we feel about it. But once we confront the shame, loving your body is the easiest thing in the world. <- this is gonna be where Past Domi went "oh fuck this noise" and bounced but HEAR ME OUT

A body you cannot live with is a body you cannot care for, and a body you can't care for is a body you will almost always struggle to live with. This feedback loop is the CORNERSTONE of body dysphoria for a lot of people. It's a chicken and egg situation where it's nearly always going to be impossible to know what came first, but once either is present, the other will kick into gear to really hunker down in your psyche.

The feedback loop works the other direction too though. This is why people tell you to find the little things that make a tiny difference. They are (usually) not telling you that it'll be enough on its own, but every one of those you find uncovers new ones, and little by little you start feeling up to bigger pieces of self care because you've recovered enough to start putting int the front-loaded work for the worthwhile outcome

When that upwards feedback loop clicks? It's night and day. Like I genuinely don't know how to describe what it's like to just sort of.....wake up different. But it happens all the time, and it KEEPS happening. And you start to realize you're not "waking up different" you're just....getting to know yourself without feeling so uncomfortable with what you're learning that you shy away from yourself

I dunno man, I don't have a point here, but I've been processing old grief lately and the grief of how long I spent viciously hating myself and truly believing that's what neutrality feels like.....Little-Domi deserved better, and so do yall

[sakur4ii]

Yan!Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

It's a night like any other. You had just arrived at your apartment after spending the day in your studio, doing different types of photo sessions. Today, you had been hired for a wedding. You're excited—it's the first time you've been hired for something so important since opening your studio.

You love photography. To you, everything the eyes capture is art and deserves to be preserved forever. Since your eyes can't take pictures, you use a camera. You have to admit that sometimes people might think you're a bit odd—taking pictures of strangers or things that, at first glance, don’t seem worthy of framing. People don’t see the world the way you do.

So, of course, you're observant, and of course, you've noticed the guy whose apartment is right across from yours. You always see him at night with his balcony light on. You like to sit on your couch and watch his shadow through the curtains. More than anything, you like taking pictures of his shadow—or sometimes of him when he peeks out. Though you fear getting caught, so you pretend to be watching TV.

You have a little crush on this stranger, someone you've never met but who owns a significant part of your camera’s memory. The little you know about him is that he's a young man, probably around your age. He also seems to work out—judging by his muscles—and he's very attractive, or at least that's what you notice when you zoom in. Once, you took a picture of his shadow doing a handstand. A gymnast, perhaps?

Unfortunately, tonight, the balcony light is off, which means the guy isn't home. But there's a silhouette on the rooftop of the building. A silhouette that is instantly recognizable if you watch the news. It's Nightwing, looking out over the horizon.

You quickly grab your camera and snap a picture of the moment. But the flash, combined with the shutter sound, gives you away. Shit.

Nightwing hears the sound of your camera. It’s a quiet night in an even quieter area, so of course, he notices the only sound that isn't a car engine. He turns with curiosity and notices your lit balcony. Oh, of course—the photographer girl.

He's known about you for a while. His balcony is directly across from yours, and at night, you usually leave it open until it's time for bed. He couldn't help but observe you—especially when you think he's not home and you’re engrossed in a book or the TV. Though, he also enjoys that you take pictures of him. Sometimes, he even poses for you. He wonders if you've noticed.

You're adorable and amusing. You're embarrassed because he's looking at you from the rooftop, and he can’t help but smile at the sight. And then, an idea comes to him

Approaching you as Dick Grayson feels strange. He never finds the right moment, and he doesn’t know how to force an encounter without making it weird. But as Nightwing? Well... you just took a picture of him without his consent. He can use that as an excuse to confront you—and hear your voice for the first time.

He can also be bold—very bold. He can flirt with you and feel no shame because he's Nightwing. If you don’t like Nightwing, then he’ll know exactly what not to do when you meet Dick Grayson.

When you glance back at the rooftop, you notice the vigilante is gone. Did you scare him off? What a bad first impression.

You jump in surprise when someone lands on your balcony.

"Oops… I didn't mean to scare you." Nightwing himself says with a mischievous smile, absorbing every micro-expression or gesture through his eyes, hidden behind his domino mask.

Your face shows nothing but shock, but your eyes also reveal a hint of curiosity. That’s good for Nightwing.

"I noticed you took a picture of me. Can I see it?"

That simple question was all it took to start a kind of friendship.

Over the next few weeks, Nightwing would land on your balcony, sit on your couch, and look through your photos. Each week, he sat a little closer. And over time, he started coming into your apartment to talk about his adventures and listen to you talk about your life. Sometimes, he even stayed for dinner, waiting until you fell asleep before returning to his apartment.

Nightwing had become your best friend. But Dick Grayson was still the unknown neighbor you loved to photograph. And he wanted to change that.

One normal day at your studio, a tall man with black hair and blue eyes walks through the door, asking if you could take photos for his driver's license. You tell him of course, and that you have an open slot right now. So, you take him to the white backdrop. The photo-taking part was quick. It was the printing process that took longer—giving the man plenty of time to start a conversation.

"You live near that street? Haha, what a coincidence, so do I. We might be neighbors," he jokes

The guy—Dick, if you remembered correctly—turned out to be right. (Of course, nothing about the conversation he had with you was accidental.) After that session, you started seeing him more often. When you bought bread, when you left early for the studio…

One day, he asked for your number. And later that same day, you discovered that he was, in fact, the neighbor who occupied most of your camera’s memory. The other part, of course, was occupied by Nightwing.

So now, you had made two friends who loved your passion for photography. They made the same jokes and loved to flirt with you. It didn’t take you long to realize they weren’t different people—but the same person.

Dick was happy that you figured it out on your own. But you were afraid to tell him about your discovery. Aww, no need to worry.

Another normal night. Dick Grayson lands on your balcony, scaring you—just like he did when he first appeared as Nightwing months ago.

He knows that you know, but he doesn’t address it. He simply acts like it’s the normal routine you’ve both grown used to. And you have no choice but to play along.

He gets closer—closer in every way you can think of. Dick Grayson becomes a constant in your life. You see him everywhere. He’s in your home almost all the time. Now, he even stays the night, leaving clothes behind so he doesn’t have to go back to his apartment after patrols. (Even though his apartment is literally next to yours—clearly just an excuse to stay with you.)

You admit it—you enjoy his company. You enjoy his attention. And most of all, you enjoy his obsession.

You’re the first one to kiss him. And he’s thrilled—because this means you love him just as much as he loves you.

If the secret photos hadn’t already given it away—you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I hope the ending doesn't look too rushed, I was trying to finish this and out of nowhere I stopped listening out of my left ear so I tried to finish it while panicking lmao.

[gensideas]

I’M JUST ONE CLICK AWAY .

summary . rafe is always available for y/n.

content * advisory . Body shaming, a little angst, but most of all fluff¡

It started off simple, only calling rafe when you needed your pipes fixed, something was too heavy, hanging up the TV, etc.

then, it got more frequent. asking him if he was ever free, or he would call you to see if you wanted to be his plus one to an event. Of course you never denied him. If anything, you loved accompanying him whenever he asked. It was sweet really, always having time to talk to each other or just simply hanging out no matter the time.

This time, it was a little different. instead, you both were getting ready together. You never knew where or how it started but, it just did. It was comforting, and relaxing.

“rafey” you spoke as you finished the finishing touches to your make up. “Yes, sweetheart?” he replied, leaning on the doorframe. “Which dress do you think i should wear? the red one or the navy blue one?” you asked, holding both dresses up. “hmmm…” he hummed, walking up to you. “I think the navy blue will look amazing on you.” “Well then, navy blue it is.” you responded, placing the red one down, smiling at rafe. “i’ll be right back!” “I'll be waiting baby.”

“Alright, how do I look?” you asked, stepping out of the bathroom. “You look sexy always baby.” Rafe replied, placing his hands on your waist. you looked up at him, placing a peck on his lips. He held your face, deepening the kiss. you pulled apart, earning a groan from him. “hey hey, don’t get so grumpy, we’re gonna be late if we don’t hurry.” you smiled, walking up to your vanity. “yeah yeah” rafe replied, clearly staring at your ass but, he couldn’t think about too much right now. you had placed to be.

Soon enough, you made it to the party he invited you to. you both walked up and got greeted by a tipsy barry, “country club, i'm glad you two could make it.” Barry spoke, slightly slurring his words. “yeah, you know i couldn’t by myself.” Rafe replied, smiling down at you. Barry stepped aside, letting the both of you step inside. it was quite honestly, you didn’t think Barry would be the type to decorate.

“I'm gonna go get a drink baby, do you want anything?” Rafe asked, holding your waist. “no rafey, im okay. thank you.” you smiled. He nodded, walking towards the bar. “y/n!” you heard someone shouting your name. as soon as you turned around one of your friends ran up to hug you. it caught you by surprise, a little overwhelmed by it, but at last you hug her back. “Hi! how are you?” you asked, walking with her towards the couch. “I’m good, thank you for asking.”

meanwhile, in the bar.

“so, how’s it goin’ with little miss y/n?” kelce asked, taking a sip of his drank. “it’s going really good actually. a lot better than i hoped.” rafe smiled, thinking of you. “aye, im glad it’s goin’ for you man. you deserve it.” Topper spoke up. “yeah man, i mean after the shit with sofia, it was well deserved.” kelce laughed. rafe didn’t like the thought of thinking about sofia. not after everything that happened with groff. Ignoring the question, rafe just takes a sip of his drink. He turned around trying to look for you, but he couldn’t find you. he’d figure you’d be with your friends like you are in the beginning of these types of events. So, he returned to talking to his friends.

“so you and rafe huh?” a girl sitting in front of you spoke. “yeah, we’re a thing, why?” you smiled, questioning why she’d said that. “it’s just, i didn’t expect him to be with someone so..” she stop mid way. “so what?” you asked, giving her a confused look. “so..big.” she finished, trying to hold in her laugh. you just stared at her, questioning why she would say that. Without saying a word, you got up and walk towards the balcony. You could hear her along with her friends laughing as you walked away. “Y/n wait!” your friend yelled after you. “dont. just let her go, she needed to hear it anyway.”

you tried not to cry, the whole time you’d looked good then, someone had to go and ruin it for you. In the process of trying to calm down, you started to feel a lump in your throat form. Causing you to feel like you can’t breathe. Rafe wasn’t there to help you so, you were scared you’d have to do it all by yourself.

you didn’t know but, rafe had already been looking for you but, he couldn’t find you. That’s when he heard his phone ring. “yeah guys hold on.” rafe stopped, and moved to a quieter spot to pick the phone. “Y/n baby, what’s going on?” rafe worried, wondering why you sounded so distressed. “rafe, i cant breathe. i-i don't know what to do and i don't know where you are.” you said, holding onto your chest. “okay baby, slow down. where are you right now?” Rafe asked, trying to search for you. “I'm at the balcony please, i c-cant breathe.” “you cried, feeling the panic attack get worse. “alright baby, stay right there. im walking towards you.” he hung up, running towards you.

“hey hey hey, it’s okay. take a deep breath, i’ll do it with you, ready?” he spoke, leaning down towards you. you nodded, following him, trying to stimulate your breathing. “you’re okay baby, shh” he held you tight, feeling his heart tear while listening to you struggle slightly. “you all better?” rafe asked, kissing your forehead. “yeah, I'm okay now.” you smiled, following up with another question, “can we go home?” you asked, getting up. “yeah of course we can.” rafe responded, placing his hand on your lower back.

as you walked towards his car you spoke up.“thank you for being there. I couldn't find you, so I called you.”

“it’s okay baby, no need to apologize. you needed my help.” rafe replied, opening the side door for you. you waited for him go hop in the driver side to continue speaking. “i know but, you were conversating with your friends. i didnt mean to-“

You were caught off guard when rafe kissed you. you slightly whimpered when he pulled apart from you. “baby, like i said you needed me when you were having a panic attack. i’d stop anything for you.” he smiled when he watched you giggle. “never forget what I told you baby.” you looked confused as he started the car, backing out the driveway.

“I’m just a click away.”

© 2024 gensideas. All Rights Reserved.

[mammons-lover]

Therapy With Leviathan

Therapist (calm and professional): Hello, Leviathan. It’s lovely to see you.

Leviathan (fidgeting with his hands, glancing around nervously): H-Hello, it’s lovely to see you too.

Therapist (offering a reassuring smile): What made you decide to come in today?

Leviathan (voice hesitant, fingers twitching): Um... Mammon recommended I come in and talk to you.

Therapist (nodding encouragingly): And what would you like to talk about

Leviathan (shifting uncomfortably, eyes darting to the door): I’m... not too sure. Sorry.

Therapist (calmly): That’s okay. Can I ask why you seem so on edge?

Leviathan (voice dropping to a whisper, still looking around): I don’t know... it’s just... um, I don’t know who might be listening.

Therapist (gently reassuring): There’s no one else here, Leviathan. Just you and me. Is there someone you think is out to get you

Leviathan (shoulders tensing, voice barely audible): N-No, I just... I don’t want Lucifer to find out what we’re talking about.

Therapist (voice soft but firm): Are you afraid of Lucifer?

Leviathan (hyperventilating, gripping his arms tightly): Who wouldn’t be?! He’s the strongest of all of us! I mean, did you see what he did to Satan?!

Therapist (gently, guiding him): Leviathan, I need you to breathe. Okay? Breathe with me.

Leviathan (taking shaky breaths, trying to calm down): O-Okay... I’m sorry.

Therapist (reassuring): "t’s okay. Let’s try to explore this fear a little further. Have you always been afraid of Lucifer?

Leviathan (staring at the floor, voice breaking slightly): Not really. I thought he’d never hurt us... because we’re family, and that’s all we have here. But now, I-I don’t know if I can trust him.

Therapist (gently probing): Because of what happened with Satan?

Leviathan (clenching his fists, tears welling in his eyes): Yes, of course, it’s because of that! He’s our brother, and Lucifer beat him so brutally. He fought us when we tried to help! What if I’m next? I mess up all the time, like when I accidentally trapped us in one of my games. What if he gets mad at me and fights me too?!

Therapist (nodding understandingly): I see where you’re coming from, Leviathan. It’s hard to trust someone when they go against their word.

Leviathan (eyes spilling tears, voice cracking): Yeah, it is. And I know Satan and Lucifer aren’t close, but how could he do something like that?

Therapist (handing him a tissue): Do you think Lucifer sees Satan as family?

Leviathan (sniffing, wiping his face quickly): Of course! He... he should. Satan came from Lucifer, so he’s obviously family.

Therapist (thoughtfully): Satan wasn’t in the Celestial Realm with you all, correct?

Leviathan (nodding slowly): Yeah, he came after we fell.

Therapist (gently): So, is it possible that Lucifer doesn’t think of him as family in the same way he sees the rest of you? Since Satan wasn’t raised with you all?

Leviathan (voice shaky, realization dawning): I... I didn’t think about that. But even if that’s true, Satan is still a part of Lucifer. That doesn’t make sense. Sorry.

Therapist (calmly explaining): It actually does. Satan came from Lucifer’s anger. When he was born, that became his very essence—the demon of wrath. Do you see what I’m getting at, Leviathan?

Leviathan (stammering, gripping his knees): T-That Lucifer doesn’t see Satan as his own being, but as a part of himself he lost... and that anger was the reason for our fall. So he also sees Satan as his shame.

Therapist (nodding gently): Exactly, Leviathan, and—

Leviathan (interrupting, voice raw): But it’s not Satan’s fault! He didn’t deserve what happened!

Therapist (soothingly): I know that. But we’re trying to understand what Lucifer might be feeling—and why he most likely wouldn’t hurt you.

Leviathan (shaking his head, voice growing unsteady again): Yeah, but... he’s hurt Mammon before. More than once.

Therapist (momentarily shocked but trying to hide it): What do you mean?

Leviathan (wringing his hands, looking away): Mammon didn’t bring it up in his session, huh? He... he strings Mammon up whenever he does something wrong. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes for days. And we can’t help him, or we’ll get punished too. I used to think it was funny, but... I don’t know anymore.

Therapist (expression darkening slightly): So Lucifer has shown signs of aggression before?

Leviathan (nodding slowly, voice almost hollow): Yeah. And he locked Belphegor up in the attic for... I don’t even remember how long. He even hurt MC. I could be next. If he’s only getting worse, he could kill me.

Therapist (firmly but calmly): Leviathan, breathe.

Leviathan (frantically shaking his head, voice rising in panic): I don’t wanna be next. I love Lucifer, but he’s becoming more dangerous, and I can’t even sleep or leave my room knowing that somehow, someway, I could piss him off... and I’ll be next.

Therapist (softly but insistently): Leviathan... I’m going to ask you again to breathe with me.

Leviathan (shakily exhaling, nodding weakly): Y-Yeah... okay. I’m sorry.

Therapist (offering reassurance): It’s okay. It’s natural to feel this way. How have you been managing at home? I know you said you can’t sleep, but what about food? Bathing?

Leviathan (voice still unsteady): Mammon and Asmo bring me food. I sneak into Asmo’s personal bathroom to bathe... I just can’t face Lucifer. I can’t even go see Satan.

Therapist (gently): Why can’t you see Satan?

Leviathan (closing his eyes, voice barely above a whisper): Because if I see how he looks in the hospital... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive Lucifer. And I don’t want to lose the last bit of hope I have left... that my brother is still in there.

[sugarcubeindulgent]

it looks like you've already gotten a lot of requests for this one, BUT I'm just letting you know I am anxiously and happily waiting for a one shot/fic of Josh getting breastfed as he DESERVES. I need to spoil and baby this man and let him indulge in his most shameful kinks, UGHHHH I'm so excited to see what you come up with IF you end up writing it out for our crazy asses. THANK YOU in advance, love ur work pookie!!!

synopsis. you always have such a nurturing touch with your boyfriend.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ contents. explicit content. mommy kink. ageplay(?). breastfeeding. lactation. handjob. edging. begging.

a/n: SO MANY and i mean SO MANY people requested this 😭 i hope it measures up for all of you, thank you for the requests!

Grunting softly, Josh gasped and he nearly sobbed out when your hand pulled away from his slick, thick cock. It pulsates, twitching and throbbing while your eyes flickered along his features twisted in desperate pleasure. There’s some fog gathering along the bottom edge of his glasses hung low on his big nose, his flushed and red cheeks so hot against the lens cold by the air. Josh grunted and he swallowed hard, his head dipped back and his eyes screwed shut as he shook his head desperately but all you could do was admire him. Positioned on his lap, his cock between your clothed abdomen and his round stomach, you wipe your hand off on your skirt's hem and tut softly. Josh slowly dipped his chin back down to look at you, his eyes half-lidded and shedding tears.

“Oh…poor baby.”,you cooed softly as you reached out with your slick hands. Your saliva and his pre-cum smear on his cheeks you hold in your palms. Tilting your head and raising your eyebrows, you sighed softly with a faux frown and shook your head. “I’m so sorry, Mommy’s hand slipped. Were you gonna cum?”,you asked, voice honeyed and dripping in faux concern and sympathy. Josh panted heavily, he leaned into your touch as you wiped his tears away.

“P-Please, Mommy…”,rasped Josh, his head tilted as you pulled away your hands. You looked at him, throbbing between your thighs as you gave him your attention with your hands on his chest. He shook his head desperately and swallowed hard while more tears shed along his flushed and glistening cheeks. “I’ve been so good for–for you – I – I was between your thighs and I haven’t cum at all–” And he grunted, he gasped with dark eyes rolling back when you grabbed his cock with one slick hand. “O-Oh M-Mommy…”,he moaned, his hands fisted into the bedding and his head tipped back again. Soft brown locks fell in waves down his shoulders.

You smiled and tilted your head, stroking his cock – up, down – then circling your palm against his sensitive cockhead. “You’re right, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for Mommy so I’m going to be nice and do you know why?”,you sweetly asked him, tilting your head. Josh swallowed hard he nodded eagerly, his fat jiggling a bit in a way that made him look all the softer as he met your eyes.

“B-Because – a-nngh – because good boys de-deserve – m-mommy – nice things.”,Josh answered, choking over moans and whines as he does his best to remain still for you. Those glassy eyes looked at you through slightly fogged glasses. He was waiting for your next word as you kept your pace smooth and rhythmic enough to continue to edge his cock already an angry red at the tip from lack of relief.

“Are you hungry, sweet boy?”

Immediately, his eyes shot wide open and he inhaled sharply. Those tear-shed eyes looked along your smiling face down to your chest hidden by one of his shirts. Then he looked at your face again and nodded eagerly. “M-Mm yes, Mommy. ‘m so hungry, please? Please?”,he begged breathlessly, trying his best to be calm and relaxed about the offer that made his cock jump in your stroking grip. When you pulled away your hand and nodded, he didn’t gasp or whine when he knew what was going to come next. You grabbed the hem of the shirt and you laughed softly, the noise filling his bedroom.

“Come on, sweet boy. Get your fill.”,you said once you tossed the shirt aside. Josh marveled at your tits as if it was the first time he was seeing them again. Then again he had passed out that time. You smiled before you gasped when he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close, his cock between his soft stomach and your skirt bunched up at the tops of your thighs.

Josh immediately latched onto one of your nipples and you sighed in relief, feeling the heavy soreness taken away by his hot and warm mouth suckling eagerly. You gently cradled the back of his head with one hand, fingers threaded into soft brown hair. “Mmf…th-thank you, Mommy.”,he moaned around your nipple, some milk leaking out from the corners of his lips to drip down onto his stomach. You inhaled softly and nodded, your other hand fell down to stroke his cock beneath his fat stomach as your sensitive nipples were lavished by his mouth then his kneading hand.

“F-Fuck…just like that…y-you’re so eager, poor baby was so hungry…”,you moaned, tilting your head back and arching your back into him as you stroked his pulsing cock. “Making Mommy feel so good…my needy little boy…”

He moaned around your nipple, his eyes shut and glasses crooked as he drank the milk courtesy of some over the counter pills. Nodding eagerly, he looked up at you with those glassy eyes and you looked down at him with a smile. His eyes crossed before they shut as he pulled off with a wet pop! Josh panted heavily and he swallowed the mouthful of milk he had before he quickly latched onto the other and his hand groped the one he’d just suckled on. You moaned and jerked him quicker when his thumb brushed over your hypersensitive, wet nipple. Cold air against the hot areola made you shudder.

Arousal and need burned in you, your hand moved quicker and he started to bite. You gasped, hissed at the sharp pain but made no effort to pull him off by his hair. As his teeth pinched the sensitive nipple, you moaned and your palm slicked along his slit. “M-M-Mommy ‘m…I n-need t-to…”,Josh gasped and spoke around your nipple, you felt warm milk spill down and roll down his belly before it coated your hand. You nodded and you gripped his hair a bit tightly to pull him back as you quickened your fist around his cock.

“You have to use your words for me, sweet boy. Can you do that for Mommy?”,you asked. Josh was a mess, his hands gripped your hips and his entire face looked fucked out and desperate after not being allowed to cum for three hours. “I can understand you if you’re not using your big boy words…”

He swallowed hard and he nodded, you begin to thumb his slit while your other hand dipped down and fondled his balls wet with spit. “O-Oh m-my–” Josh moaned and his eyes rolled back, you hummed softly in satisfaction as he had to force his chin back downwards to look at you. “M-Mommy please! Please Mommy, let me cum please I-I need, Mommy’s sweet boy n-needs hnng–f–mmf…pleasepleaseplease…” Nodding, you jerked his thick cock, wet noises filling the air.

“Cum for Mommy, baby.”

Josh immediately leaned down and caught one of your nipples in his mouth. Sucking, he moaned around the sensitive bud and you felt his entire body shake and quiver. “M-Mommy!”,he whined and gasped, refusing to let go of your nipple while his cum shot out. You inhaled softly in satisfaction, feeling his hot and thick load that had built up. Cum shot up against your abdomen, it caught his belly and dripped down while remnants slicked along your knuckles and fingers. A soft laugh left your lips as he rode out his orgasm on your nipple, moaning and groaning like a desperate toy.

“There we go…such a good boy…”,you muttered, kissing the top of his head.

The brunette pulled off and choked in a breath of air, he nodded weakly as you pulled your hand away and he dropped his forehead to your sternum. His glasses dug into your skin a bit, some of his forehead sweat smeared on your warm skin.

“Thank you…s’much, Mommy.”

[utilitycaster]

I just want to say as someone who bowed out of watching c3 very early on, I really enjoy your commentary on the fandom and the politics they keep bringing up as if they understand politics at all. Like the way people treat activism as fandom and fandom as activism is so ruinous to our ability to have real conversations, and to see the political discourse of the past few years reflected so stupidly in the critical role fandom has been mind boggling. The fight to be the most Morally Superior and Righteous in fandom spaces is a poison, and from what I remember, spawned some of the worst c2 discourse too.

Thank you and I agree. I actually struggle to talk about this topic in depth because to give it the explanations it deserves I would need to start naming and shaming individuals so I will leave it at 1. a good gesture would be for some of these people to either delete their accounts or at minimum apologize (deleting the individual posts and ignoring that it ever happened is not, in fact, a good idea) and 2. while I have little faith they'll do that I hope that everyone who decided it was very important to talk about anticolonial themes to the point of talking over indigenous people/those from the global south is involved in immigration/refugee resettlement or native sovereignty activism and that everyone who decided it was super important to defend the term "girlfailure" and attack anyone who didn't think the sun shone out of Imogen or Laudna's asses is involved in abortion and trans bodily autonomy activism (and I mean activism, not just yourself) and everyone who wrung their hands about the poor Ruidusborn child soldiers is working to clear school lunch debt or whatever real world causes they believe in. Because I do think a lot of people substituted attacking people over not liking characters or ships or plot points of C3 over doing anything positive for the world at large, and if so they will have to either change or live as the piece of shit hypocrite person they are forever, which is really more of a curse than anything I can say.

[icannotgetoverbirds]

Share to save a dandruff-haver's sanity

i am making this post because all my life i have been told my dandruff was my fault for not washing my hair correctly and shamed for having "poor hygiene" as a result - this is probably where the bfrbs started tbh.

SO. There are two main types of dandruff!

Dry scalp flakes: these are white and itty bitty! you can probably solve this with a good hair and skincare routine. HOWEVER unless they are bothering you it is absolutely not necessary for any kind of health reason (afaik! disclaimer! i am not a doctor! this is not actionable medical advice nor should you take me anywhere near as seriously as a dermatologist). IS NOT CAUSED BY POOR HYGIENE.

Fungal dandruff: Bigger, yellowish, possibly oily/greasy flakes! Caused by your genetics going Oops All Yeast! Generally requires a prescription antifungal treatment from a dermatologist! ALSO NOT CAUSED BY POOR HYGIENE.

Either way, if you have dandruff, a dermatologist is the one you want to consult if it's bothering you! and frankly, even if it was a hygiene issue, nobody deserves to be shamed for that!!!!! especially considering that there are plenty of people who struggle to shower regularly due to circumstances beyond their control!

AND FOR CHRIST'S SAKE STOP SHAMING PEOPLE WITH DANDRUFF!!!!

[potato-lord-but-not]

Your most recent post I just made me think about John (because I’m always thinking about John) and if having his wrists pinned would freak him out. Like, the level of trust he would have to build with Oscar to give up what little control he does have, give up that little piece of autonomy he clings too. Idk your art makes me crazy and then I get thinking and here we are—

no you’re so right my god. I need to draw more of these three navigating being intimate because it makes me go INSANE. I need more John being reluctant to trust Oscar and Oscar being patient with him because he’s probably a little bit scared of him but also he knows what it’s like to be ignored and to lose some of your autonomy (I mean he’s coming from the religious trauma stand point but still you get me) NOW YOUVE GOT ME RAMBLING DAMN IT I need to draw them so bad

[ahollowgrave]

hey come here

reblog your own work. reblog it as much as you want. the dashboard is chronological (mostly) so you gotta put it back out there!! ok bye

[wickjump]

falls to the floor and saves myself from the awkwardness of losing followers for having opinions they did not like (which is valid of them btw curate ur own online experience) by blocking everyone in a ten mile radius and by everyone i mean two people to spare myself

[vampire-nyx]

Controversial idea but I think the idea of “the skinny girl who calls herself fat for eating food is terrified of becoming fat and therefore deserving of ridicule” is wrong and shitty and harmful and typically based on the speakers own hatred of their body and insecurity

[bluiela]

Is feysand out of elain week because what Rhysand did utm was sexual abuse and feyre burning the LOA was also abuse,

Rhys drugging and making feyre do stuff triggers people so it would be safe to ban Rhys to create a safe environment for fans

Elain tells everyone that she is no child to be faught over

Yet when Azriel goes against her wishes and tells Rhys he would fight elain in a blood duel it triggers because yet again a man going against the wishes of a women

Banning Azriel would also create a safe space for those who gets triggered by this (me included)

[simptasia]

being in the DS9 fandom, you'll discover there are so many ways for people to be wrong about julian bashir

[kariachi]

Midnight Rant #5 billion and 12 on Charmcaster and Kevin- That woman's fucking AF premiere.

Because we have Kevin, very obviously in a very bad place. He's being retraumatized, his girl's cut back hard on spending time with him with no explanation, our boy is going through it. And then he makes a friend, according to WoG over the course of a few months, in a grown woman. And it's great, it's fine, and then she starts macking on him. And then she plants a kiss on him despite him shutting her down. And while doing that she literally takes control of his damn mind, just fucking harpoons that poor boy's bodily autonomy, forces him to turn against his loved ones. All because she never actually gave any sort of shit about him and from the very start was using him to get to and hurt his girl. This relationship that he thought was forming for months was all a ruse, her using him and then abusing him. And this is

So painful for poor Gwen. Can you believe that Kevin didn't have faith that her pulling back with no explanation meant she was working hard to fix him, after the whole three-odd months they'd been together? And to have Charmcaster come back starting problems. Oh poor Gwen, everyone is so mean to her.

And it's not just in the fucking show, it's in the fandom as well, this idea that the shit Kevin goes through matters in how it affects Gwen and not in how it would have to affect him. Just, that had to be such a fucking painful if not straight up traumatizing event. Charm fucked with his goddamn mind. She made him think she cared about him only to hurt him.

Congrats, Charm, I'd say you were only a few steps below Servantis but he at least let the kids have a degree of autonomy and wasn't on screen macking on them. Slow clap, you're even keel.

Just, I sometimes remember that we have a whole episode surrounding Kevin, already openly in an awful headspace, being groomed and straight up mindcontrolled, and the big take-away is how much the situation hurt Gwen and how bad a boyfriend he is for not reading her damn mind. And it drives me up the fucking wall.

Especially when you remember that he spends that season in his underwear, I'm sorry but the parallels to the treatment of imperfect SA victims write their damn selves.

And when you also keep in mind that when Mike is pulling the 'charm them and thrall them' bit it's treated, by the show and fandom, as him being an irredeemable predator and his victims have every right to hate him forever and wish horrible things on him, but Charm gets to have the 'oh poor Charmcaster' treatment and Kevin's thinking she can go fuck herself is treated as a flaw in his character by the show and ignored by fandom.

Because in the end the disparity comes from the same place as the repeated physically abusive acts Gwen commits against Kevin, as Looma's threats being treated as humor, as Gwen's thinking they're romantic being treated as humor- plain old misogyny. Mind the misogyny isn't all of it, but the age old belief that this sort of shit committed by women against men isn't a concern, and in fact may even be treated as ridiculous, because women are too weak to hurt men plays a big role. Doesn't matter if it's a grown woman grooming a mentally ill teenager or a teenage girl shoving her boyfriend into freefall- she's just a girl so of course what she's doing isn't actually dangerous or harmful, because women aren't capable enough for such things. Which then plays into the age old sexist bullshit that men are simply too strong and rough to be hurt, and to be hurt by a girl especially- physically, mentally, however- is funny because it means they're weak.

And that's not even getting into the 'a guy is always eager' bullshittery.

Just, for the love of fucking christ...

[glittertimes]

Being treated like a weird crazy girl my entire life has made it so hard to actually find help to not be so weird and crazy bc I realized I just kept accepting therapists that couldn’t really help me and friendships where I felt miserable and emotionally unsafe bc I thought I was so weird and different and there wasn’t anything out there that would actually be helpful or fulfilling for me.

When I’m realizing I just needed a therapist that understood oppression and the ways that has impacted me bc a lot of my therapists have kind of judged me for being “behind” for my age like still living at home or not being able to drive - even when I was in grad school or incredibly capable in other areas of life I was still seen as a kid and that made it harder to really trust myself and feel comfortable living on my own and providing for myself.