#because at this point i know that it's not my fault

[lightseoul]

Hello! For your event can i get #11 ?

hello, sure! this took quite a while for me to get around to doing, but i hope the wait was worth it <3 thank you for playing!

(this is lightseoul’s 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i’ll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

11. "IS THAT MY SHIRT?" (1.4k)

under other circumstances, today would’ve been filed under the non-descript mornings with which you start your unremarkable days.

the sun is barely peeking through the curtains, the temperature is not too cold but not too hot, and you’re buried in freshly washed bedding that smells divine.

and so it’s not really your fault for thinking for a modicum of a second that today was just like any other day.

if it weren’t for the muscled arm slung across your bare waist.

you’re yanked from your half-asleep stupor the second you see it, and you jolt in shock before you can stop yourself. the man beside you, thankfully, doesn’t stir awake.

with wide eyes, you chance a glance at the decidedly naked person next to you (if your sense of touch wasn’t betraying you), and the sight that greets you nearly makes you faint.

because what the fuck are you doing in bed—naked—with the bakugou katsuki?

suddenly the areas where your skin meets his are becoming way too hot, and you’re hit with the visceral urge to get away from the man.

and so as discreetly and quietly as you can, you lift the arm that’s wrapped around your midriff, but freeze when his grip tightens and he shifts every so minutely. sneaking a peek again, now at his face, you study the man with caution as his eyebrows furrow for a beat before they relax along with the rest of his features.

you don’t allow yourself to revel in how peaceful he looks, or dwell on the fact that you may have just fucked this man last night, choosing to try again and wrestle yourself out of his hold. to your relief, he doesn’t resist, even in slumber, and you’re able to slide out of the bed with minimal noise and motion, thanks to his firm, exquisite mattress.

you wonder how firm it proved to be last night…

you mentally slap yourself.

now is not the time to be horny.

it instantly dawns on you how naked you are, standing in this man’s bedroom fully bare, and so you scan the room for any sign of your undergarments and clothing. it doesn’t take you a while to spot your panties, and then your bra a few seconds later—both of which are notably plain and not at all sexy. you try to fight the cringe as you shimmy into them—obviously, you didn’t anticipate getting any action yesterday—eyes darting across the area in search of your shirt. they finally land on the black article that’s unceremoniously sprawled across near the foot of the bed, and you waste no time putting it on.

and as you find your trousers and squeeze yourself into them, you let your brain wander to what got you here in the first place.

you remember being strung along by your girlfriends into that exclusive bar that’s said to be frequented by many pro-heroes. you don’t know how your designated planner friend managed to get you guys entry, but you didn’t question it, choosing to just enjoy the atmosphere and drink good booze with good company.

in fact, you may have drunk too much good booze because your memory drifts in and out a few hours into settling into a booth in the bar. you recall one friend pointing to a group of three men who looked suspiciously like pro-heroes cellophane, red riot, and dynamight, as well as you laughing at how it couldn’t be.

you wince at the memory of said friend, who knows about the big, fat, embarrassing crush you have on the ash-blonde hero, dragging you to where they sat and introducing yourselves to the men.

at that point, you were tipsy and bordering on drunk, and dead convinced that they were just wannabes who wanted to look like their hero idols. but the guy with the crimson eyes that were notably boring into you looked too much like bakugou that you threw all caution to the wind and just went along with it, too curious about the person in front of you.

but now, as you stand smack dab in the middle of this pristine bedroom that can only belong to a very highly-paid, famously all-might-loving hero, you’re flooded by a wave of dizzying nausea.

dizzying nausea that doubles up when your eyes catch the ridiculously sculpted arms of the man who’s still lying on his stomach, seemingly fast asleep.

you can relive and fact-check your fantasies later, when you’re alone and in the safety of your much more modest apartment unit, but not now.

and so with a slightly heavy heart, you turn around and silently twist the knob, ready to tiptoe the hell out of his room with your purse in tow.

but all hopes of making a quiet exit get thrown out of his bougie-ass windows when the door fucking creaks so loud, that you don’t have to look behind you to know that the man just shot awake.

you stand there, frozen with your back turned against him, for what feels like forever, before ultimately deciding that you can’t just walk out the door now like nothing happened lest you come off as a fucking lunatic.

and so with a deep inhale, you steel yourself for the incoming shitshow, and turn.

you try not to stare at his crazy, stupid, built torso or his beautiful face that’s looking all too stunned as you awkwardly gesture to the door.

“you ought to lubricate this door of yours,” you quip, capping it with a laugh, although it comes out stilted.

and when he doesn’t say anything, “…sorry i woke you up.”

that must’ve been enough to sober him up, because he finally speaks up. “shit—no, i—”

he cuts himself off as he scrambles to get up, and you turn around just in time to not see his dick dangle as he searched for his boxers. you hear rustling and things being turned upside down as you wait for him to get dressed.

“just a sec,” he calls out, before: “have you seen my—is that my shirt?”

before you can think better against it, you whip around to look at where he’s gesturing, only to be met with him, now in his boxer shorts, staring straight at you.

“wha—?”

you look down to where his gaze is fixed, and sure enough, the shirt you’re wearing is decisively not yours.

“fuck—” you start, flaming in embarrassment, “i’m sorry, i thought it was mine. i—let me just—” you trail off just as your eyes land on another black shirt near your feet, and you’re about to scoop it up and turn and hurriedly strip off his shirt when he speaks up.

“no, it’s okay.” you freeze, bent over and hand just barely having grasped the shirt off the floor. and when he doesn’t say anything, you slowly straighten up, fighting to maintain eye contact.

he’s scowling now.

“you don’t have to scurry like a fucking rat, dumbass,” he spits, although there’s not much bite to it. he’s looking a tad bit embarrassed, too. hesitating for a second, he diverts his gaze, before: “can’t i at least cook you breakfast?”

you pick up your jaw that just dropped to the floor as fast as you can. “you��you mean you don’t want me to leave just yet?”

at that, he scoffs. “what do you take me for, a fuckboy?”

he says it so incredulously you almost snort. instead, you cock your head a bit to the right, not entirely able to deny your impressions of him.

“seriously?” he splutters for a beat, before sighing in resignation. shaking his head, he finally shifts to meet your eyes and regard you, the switch in the air to that of palpable seriousness so potent.

“i don’t normally do this,” he states, gaze remaining fixed on yours, as if he’s trying to communicate the rest with just his eyes.

you don’t have to ask him what ‘this’ means.

and so you reply just as honestly. “me, neither.”

neither of you says anything for a brief moment, the revelations from both of you taking up the small space between.

“so,” bakugou breaks the silence eventually, “breakfast?”

[salemlunaa]

TOUGH REMINDER: BEING A BABY WONT GET YOU ANYWHERE 💋🤷‍♀️

some of you need to stfu with this whining bullshit!!

There is a single fact that if you have not induced pure consciousness by now it is your fault. You can change that in seconds of course and no one is mad at you because at the end of the day it’s your life, but when push comes to shove its you who needs to put the work in (not when it comes to inducing the void because that is effortless, but in general when it comes to discipline and staying focused) it’s you who needs to lock in. It’s you who needs to identify the problems you’re having and deal with it, or you will get no where, no one is here to hold your hand.

You can keep crying at your big age like some innocent baby. “but it just doesn’t work for” “how dare you say people are lazy when it’s not our fault” “it’s not my fault i fall asleep” bla bla bla you might as well suck your thumb while your at it. And when it hits 2030 you can be in the community preaching that’s it’s “still not your fault”, go ahead!! Sure call me horrible for this but if you’re still here it’s your own fault, because when people come into my asks my dms my comments and tell me that my posts are too harsh and that it’s “not their fault”, I ask them “who’s is it then?” and crickets…

And if you’re sitting here bitter I want you to ask yourself, who’s fault it that you’re still here, who’s fault is it that you still fall asleep, and do you know what fine maybe you try so hard to stay awake but can’t, but let me ask you, who gets affected by that? who gets affected by the fact that you’ve wasted so many years here because you “fall asleep”, because it doesn’t affect me.. it’s you, it’s you who will never progress talking to the wall about how it still somehow isn’t your fault…

The way some of you will read my posts which are meant to be motivational, and helpful all the way through and still try and absolve yourself from the blame is so embarrassing, but it will be you who reaps the consequences of this attitude. My posts apply to EVERYONE, you are not a baby who is exempt from criticism and from tough love, you can continue to be hard headed and tell yourself it’s not your fault that your still here. Sure that will help you sleep at night but it won’t help you get your dream life.

From now on I will be deleting demotivating comments, my account is about helping others, not coddling some babies who can’t live with the fact that it is their job to get their dream life, if you want that look elsewhere, but I will not have yall get into people’s heads, there are people who are ready to accept the fact that they control their reality and there are people who are ready to lock in, i will not have yall ruin that. I will not accept comments dms and asks, trying to avoid blame.

Neville does say “do not blame, only resolve” but at what point does it become enough. Circumstances are hard and of all people i would know, but at what point do you start taking accountability knowing that your thoughts create your reality and knowing that if you locked in you would have everything already.

there is no such thing as “this doesn’t apply to everyone”, you aren’t exempt from the facts of the law, ever, and you can delude yourself into thinking so and i hope those thoughts keep you company within all the unsuccessful years to come

GET TF UP AND STOP WHINING, YOU CAN DO THIS!!

last time i checked, bitter and pressed aren’t apart of the ingredients for the manifestation recipe 💋

[aspoonofsugar]

"I'm done blaming myself for your mistakes"

This line by Vi pretty much sums up her conflict in Act 1 of season 2, but I have yet to see it discussed. The point is, in fact, that Vi does blame herself, which is why she is unable to properly call Cait out. If Jinx specifically were not the one responsible for Cassandra's death, I doubt Vi would have stayed silent in front of Cait calling Zaunites animals or that she would have accepted many of Cait's actions without saying a word.

Vi still feels at fault for Powder becoming Jinx, which makes her vulnerable and willing to compromise on her morals, so that Caitlyn would not leave her. Ironically, I think this behavior is among the reasons why their love story does not work out in the first Act. They fail to communicate properly.

On the one hand Cait treats Vi badly. She insults Vi's people and insists that Vi should become an enforcer, despite her knowing of Vi's painful past. Obviously this is wrong, but personally I think it stems from Caitlyn's poor attempt to reconcile her love for Vi with her hate for Jinx:

"Three faces keep spinning through my mind. I see mother when they found her. And every fiber of me just sinks like in dark water. But then there is Jinx. Laughing. I want to tear that laugh from her throat forever. Then I see Vi. I asked her to put on the uniform. Suffice to say, she declined."

Cait's solution is to have be become a part of her society, so that she can keep on hating Jinx and the "bad" Zaunites, while loving Vi and the "good" Zaunites. Except it obviously does not work.

On the other hand Vi is unable to call Cait out. And the whole point is that Cait needed someone to call her out. She is grieving, but she is obviously becoming like the enforcers she once despised. Like the enforcers Vi despised. She negates Cassandra's legacy, by using her ventilation system to poison the air. She acts cruelly against a man, who is unharmed and who has clearly been hurt by that same gas she weaponized. She is ready to shoot a child (even if she does not intend to kill her), so that she can get at Jinx. Vi clearly sees all of this, which is why she asks Cait not to change:

Vi: Everyone in my life has changed. Promise me you won't change.

However, she fails to confront Cait about it all. Except that when you are in a relationship, you must feel secure and free to call the other person out. Even to get into a fight with the other person. Still, Vi is so terrified of losing Cait too, that she is indecisive. And in the end she is tragically left behind by Cait.

This happens because Vi herself has not yet decided who she wants to be. Is she a Zaunite or an Enforcer? Does she want to kill Jinx or not? Vi can't choose. Jinx even calls her out on this:

Jinx: Plastering my face all over, so someone else would do your dirty work?

She tells Cait she wants Jinx dead, but the moment she can kill Jinx she doesn't. Sure, Isha comes between them, but after Cait disarms Isha, Vi could pretty easily take Isha away from Jinx and let Cait kill her sister. However, she does not. That is clearly because she sees Powder in Isha. Jinx and Isha embraced are clearly representative of who Jinx is as a whole. She is an unstable terrorist, but she is also a hurt child. That is who Jinx is and that is what Vi (and Jinx herself) needs to see and to reconcile. Even now, Vi insists that Powder is dead and that only Jinx remains. However, Jinx is Powder no matter how much Silco, Jinx herself and Vi insist she isn't. She still clearly is.

It is just that Powder has changed, but this is normal. Just like it is normal Vi herself has changed and will need to change again, so that she can decide who she really wants to be. Just like Jinx and just like Cait will have to do.

As a side note, I am loving the foiling between Cait and Jinx. They have always been foils, but while last season focused on how this juxtaposition impacts Jinx, right now we are seeing how it impacts Cait.

In season 1, Jinx sees Cait as Vi replacing her. In a sense, Jinx's jealousy of Vi stems from that same inability to accept change. Jinx too deep down hopes she can go back to being the innocent Powder and that Vi can love her, like she did in the past. However, that is not possible because people change and forge new relationships. Jinx forges a bond with Silco she can't simply erase because Vi wants to. Just like she can't erase the one with Vi simply because Silco wants to. Similarly, Vi has a new bond with Cait that she can't break simply because Jinx asks her to. So, Caitlyn is really who Jinx wants to be. Someone complementary to Vi in battle, but also reliable, dependent, lovable. By the end of season 1, Jin realizes she can't really be that person anymore and interiorizes there is a part of her Vi can't understand. That same part Silco instead accepts.

Silco: Don't cry. You are perfect.

In season 2, Jinx becomes Cait's dark side. She is really Cait's Joker, as she is the one who challenges Cait's sense of justice and morals:

Cait: It's her blood in your veins. Vi: Then why are you the one acting like her?

Cait is letting grief and pain change her for the worse, just like Powder was transformed by her own losses and traumas. Cait keeps insisting she is different from Jinx, but she isn't. In fact, her whole fiasco kinds of hint at it symbolically. Cait poisons the underground city in her attempt to catch Jinx. Only for Jinx rewinding the ventilation system, so that the poison Cait used is sent back to Piltover. Jinx literally acts like Cait's mirror, which is why Cait's shot ends up hitting exactly this, a mirror. As in, Cait can't really kill Jinx without hurting both herself, Vi and the whole city :P

I am curious to see how their foiling will develop, now that both girls are growing into the leaders of their opposite factions.

[timmydraker]

Tim accidently referring to the Joker as Dad but those who know about Joker Jr aren’t present and so everyone is left with the ‘realisation’ that Tim is the son of the biggest nightmare to their family.

It’s probably Jason and Steph, her there to bother Tim but Jason went to the manor for food and the two naturally started arguing. Maybe Jason tells Tim to stop costing on his case and prove a point be made against blonde, but Tim just offhandedly goes, “Later, I think my dad broke out of Arkham again but the guards aren’t doing anything. Maybe they’re in on it…”

The two present naturally look at each other with confusion and for the first time stop bickering to peak over his shoulder and see what his case is because, holy shit Tim had a villain for a dad and didn’t tell us? Only to see numerous photos of the Joker in his cell and many reports over the last week of how he’s been behaving and Jason…

Steph pushes the man out of the room when she sees his face go from frozen fear to anger, thinking it’s towards Tim and his secrecy and, while she totally gets that, now isn’t the time.

Though when they get into the Jason starts a rant about how Bruce and Dick should have told him that the monster had a child, even if that child wasn’t Tim! Jason protects kids! Did they think he’d hurt him just because of who his father is?

No!

If anything, he’d become the kids full time body guard to stop that mad man from making Tim into another version of himself!

The two naturally go to tell the others, pulling Damian, Cass and Duke into a mostly unused room and telling them what they discovered, all while Tim stays in the library working on his case.

Cass is beyond worried but also confused because he doesn’t seem to have any physical characteristics of the Joker or Harley, but maybe the mother is different? Perhaps it’s still Janet and either she had a fling with the Joker or something far worse, which makes the young girl enraged on the woman’s behalf.

Damian makes a comment about him killing Tim, not in a serious manner but more as an option, but Duke shuts it down, saying that having a villain for a parent doesn’t mean anything about who you will be. He points out those in the family of that nature and other heroes like Superboy.

When asked why they didn’t get Dick or Babs involved, Jason says they defiantly know and lied about it.

It’s only after another three hours of working that Tim catches himself referring to the Joker as dad and shuts his laptop, making his way to Bruce’s room to hide under the older man’s bed like he usually does when that happens, only to overhear what his siblings are saying.

Tim presses his ear against the door to hear better.

“If that maniac had a kid, surely he’d have told everyone he had an heir or something.” That’s Steph’s voice, filled with worry that only he and Cass could detect as she hides it under a whiney tone.

Jason is next to respond, “maybe he doesn’t know? I mean, did Tim ever even interacted with him before he became Robin?”

It doesn’t take much more than that for Tim to realise that he must have been talking aloud again or absently answered someone earlier and misspoke in front of them.

Panic fills him as he avoids telling Bruce when he gets bad, even if it’s just a small thing, because the older man will start of being a concerned parent then go into Batman mode and only just stop himself from putting Tim in the confinement cell. Sure Tim came up with the idea of the cell so he wouldn’t hurt anyone if his conditioning got too bad, but he’s learnt the signs. He’s not a mindless drone, he still knows who he is and doesn’t hear someone talking to him or anything like that.

He just… sometimes forgets the Joker hurt him.

It’s not Tim’s fault that memories of watching TV with him and Harley, tucked between them with a big bowl of ice cream felt better than most memories of his real parents.

But he knows it’s wrong, always comes back to calling the Joker his enemy.

Bruce just doesn’t get that.

Tim hears them talk a bit more, theories about who his mother might be, if Tim is safe at the manor, if Joker knows he has a son…

Opening the door, Tim stands there and stares at them as all eyes snap to him in alarm.

He doesn’t let anybody speak, cutting them all off quickly, “He’s not my dad. Go the cave and search for file number 26557933301-JJ and put in the code AGELAST, all caps.”

With that he turns and leaves, walking at first before running to Bruce’s room to hide.

He goes to family dinner and pretends not to notice the quietness or how Jason is still there, eating his food quietly and waiting for the ball to drop.

Naturally, Damian is the one to say what he wants first, “So why is okay that Tim shot the joker but I got in trouble for stabbing Bane?”

Everyone groans.

[balkanradfem]

I don't get to talk about feminism in real life, because it's not an accepted topic here, it's an 'evil harpy movement' still, despite it getting women the right to vote, own property, own a bank account, be able to be paid for work. The consenus is that normal women don't need to be feminists, we already have the right to vote so what more could we possibly want. I do get to talk with young women about it! When I have some teenagers or young adult women in my life, I am telling them all about it, showing them all the violence statistics, instructing them on all possible methods of abortion, and they are genuinely stunned to gain this information they've never had access to before.

But yesterday, I was at plant lady's house, and I breached the topic of feminism, because I had just entered a feminist book club, and joined a little group of croatian radfems, so I was all up in my ideas about it. And I love the plant lady, she's a beloved figure in my life, but she is both against feminism, and a huge fan of conspiracy theories. So when I started talking about feminism, she interrupted me to tell me that she heard that women, are not in fact, responsible for feminism, but it's actually males in power that are pulling the strings. I explained that we don't even allow m*n to participate in what we do, but she was sure she's right, because, males in power thought it would be cool for women to have jobs and pay taxes, so they invented feminism, to collect more taxes and have more workers. And I knew I couldn't argue her about it because conspiracy theories exist to null every argument against them, right, no matter what I say, she'll have a more incredible explanation. So instead I changed the topic to the problems of sexual violence against women, domestic violence, normalization of pedophilia, and treatment of women like objects due to rampant pornography.

And she's like, no, that doesn't happen, most people are normal and have normal marriages and treat women normally, and these problems, are not the problems of 'feminism', these are things everyone is against – and I say no they're not, m*n don't care, they don't fight against any of it, in fact they're the perpetrators of 90% of these crimes. Then she launches into a story of an abused woman who refused to leave her husband because she loved him. I explain to her that this is incredibly common and it's called 'cycle of abuse', and we can resolve this by teaching women very early on about this cylce, that it can easily happen to them no matter what kind of husband they choose, and to recognize the signs early, before it comes to worst, and for women who are going trough it, they need all this euducation too. What is happening currently is nobody is talking about it and we pretend it doesn't exist and then victim-blame women when they get abused. Most abused women don't even recognize they're being abused because they're being isolated and told it's their own fault. Then she launched into another story about a woman who she knows was battered who escaped. Then she mentioned another situation she knew with a violent husband, and another with a drunk one. And I'm listening to her like. Hey. You said this doesn't even happen, that it's incredibly rare, but you personally know this many cases? And you know me, I've been living in violence too, remember?

And she just looks at me. Realizing for a second that it's not that rare. She didn't argue with me. She previously really thought about each and every case she knew as an outlier, something so improbable and rare that it wasn't really a social problem. She told me then, that we can't really help these people, because police only makes it worse, so what do we even do. I told her it's important that we talk about it, that we offer resources and teach women early on to recognize abuse, and to make a point of not blaming women for it, to make it clear any male could do it to them at any point, to be ready for it, to reconsider marrying, to have a separate bank account, to never let their survival and housing be completely dependant on a male.

I also indulged her to think why women can find themselves in these situations in the first place? If we're so equal, how come it's possible women don't have anywhere to go to, and need to stay in the abusers house to just survive. I said it has something to do with parents usually leaving their houses and properties to sons, and expecting daughters to move into their husbands places, and she again said 'no this doesn't happen', and I went 'well why don't these abused women just move into their own houses they inherited from their parents' and she again, had no arguments. It's not the sole reason though, women earn less too, get less promotions, get paid less for the same job, still mostly do unpaid labour, dedicate a big part of their life to raising children on their own, they don't get to accumulate funds and properties in the same ways m*n do.

Anyway, while we were having this entire conversation, her 18yo daughter was there, listening to us, and miraculously, she seemed to agree with me! When the plant lady claimed 'there's so many normal ones out there', the daughter interrupted to say 'no mom, there's no normal m*n out there, I can't find anyone normal', and I immediately supported her claim with agreement. I was so happy to be a little feminist influence on her and to validate her point! She was also wearing a shirt that said 'grl pwr' and I was like 'yes this is great' even though it's just a liberal catchphrase, it's still a sign of wanting women to have power in the world that doesn't believe a word they say.

I think the type of attitude the plant lady has is extremely common for women in our country, in fact she was very receptive to what I was saying. She knew about this many cases of domestic abuse, because she was often the safe person for these women to tell, and she has been helping the ones who escaped, me included.

Most women I know will launch in defense of males and trashing of women as soon as you mention feminism, because it's the only socially accepted thing to do. I believe we all have women in our lives who are not malicious or terribly ignorant, but affected by the mainstream beliefs that women are asking for too much, already have everything, and are at fault for everything that happens to them; this is incredibly pervasive and impossible to debate in a conversation. It's so ingrained in women to go against anything that makes m*n look bad, it's almost considered a sin and a hate crime to even think this way. Like something a bad, selfish, bitter, irrational and greedy woman would do, and nobody wants to be dubbed that. I remember thinking this way myself when I was a teen; I wanted to hold males responsible so bad, but the shame of being seen as this hateful and bitter person was getting to me, to the point where I would silent down and not speak out.

I used to get so angry at anti feminists, and would avoid indulging with the topic because it would irritate me so much, but I've gained more understanding as I go on, and can now tolerate the opposing arguments when I know they've come from propaganda and social pressure, rather than ignorance or hunger for approval. I'm more effective being able to indulge a little! Not a lot though. If I spent a lot of my time trying to argue with anti-feminists I would in fact, wither and die.

[romana-after-dark]

Little Tease

Dark!Logan x Fem!reader

Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

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Summary: Logan is trying to train you, but you keep teasing him. It's not his fault, really.

Warnings: Dub con but reader is secrtly into it. logan in a position of authority but to be clear, this is NOT student reader, or teenager reader at the school. This is a short fic so we're not getting into a backtory but that is NOT what this is.

Based on this ask.

More apoligetic non con? Read this series!

Divider by @coolcatsgraphics

1000 follower fundraiser game!

You were doing this on purpose.

Itty bitty shorts. Tight sports bra. Just you and him on the sparing matt and fuck, you looked delicious as sweaty and heaving.

Logan was the gym teacher, but that's not why he was here with you. He didn't spar with students, especially not while shirtless. Students had appropriate gym uniforms. Student's didn't dress like whores tempting him to pounce.

But you were. You wanted him. He saw it in the way you smirked at him when he looked at your tits. He felt it in the way you wiggled your butt when he took you down. He smelled it. Ohhhh he smelled it. The wetness between your legs whenever you and him tousled.

The premise of the rendezvous began innocently enough. You were a mutant, but not one with any powers that could protect you. You weren't like Jean, Remy, Hank, or him.... instead, you were empathic, able to make people feel what you felt and vice versa. This was something that put a target on your back, but you had no ability to protect yourself.

So, you asked Logan to help you, to train you in at least basic self defense so that those who would hurt you for being a mutant wouldn't have an easy time, and you didn't have to simply depend on the protection of others.

and it was torcher. How was he expected tp go about him day after feel your skin, your body under him, your sweet smell... he left rock hard every day.

Until today, when he flipped you around and swept your leg, he landed on top of you. he didn't get up.

"Alright Logan." you chuckle and grunt, attempting to get up but his 300 pounds kept your sweaty face pressed to the mat. "You made you point."

"This is why you gotta watch your legs, pumpkin. I been tell'n you, you're not steady."

"I knoooooow" You can't help but groan. "But can you get your fat ass up? Crushing me here."

Logan's face nuzzled your neck, the hair of his sideburns tickling you. "that's not fat, and you fucking know it. That's the skeleton, you know what that means?"

you huff your answer. "That you're gonna suffocate me under here?"

"It means I can protect you, pumpkin." Logan feels your whole body still underneath him. "Don't need to worry 'bout a thing, not with me around..." He trails his fingers down your sides, feeling the lightweight workout material separating you from him.

Once again, you try to push him off, but all the push ups he makes you do are no match for his heavy weight. "Logan. I think you got the wrong idea-" But he cuts you off with a deep kiss t those sweet lips of yours, sucking n your tongue and biting on your lips even as you squirm under him. Your movements only served to stimulate his cock in the loose grey gym shorts.

When he pulls away, a string of spit connects him to you for another moment still. "No wrong idea, baby." Logan draws up his claws just a little, juuust enough that when he slides his knuckles over the crack of your ass, your pathetic, half-see through leggings shred underneath him.

"Logan! Stop!" Your voice cracks as you slap at the blue matt. "Get the fuck off me! I'm tellin Scott!"

"I'm TeLlInG ScOtT!" Logan mocks you, freeing his acing cock and sliding the uncut tip over you wet little slit. He knew you'd be wet, he could mell it on you, but this was something else. "No, you're not pumpkin. Know why? Because the second Jean looks into your m- oooh fuck- when she looks into that pretty little head of yours, she's gonna feel it. Right here." He slides a hand between you and the sticky matt, feeling your stomach right where his tip pokes you. "She's gonna feel how you felt right here, the warmth in your tummy when you watch me warm up, the way it flips when i touch you and, and the way it's clenching right now, ready to come on my cock after only a few strokes.

You whimper, know logically, realistically, Scott wouldn't question you like that, that jean wouldn't tell him any arousal you felt, that the fact you were telling him to stop would be enough for Scott...But a part of you pictured him doubting you, laughing at you even. you couldn't take it.

Instead, you try to appeal to Loga's decency. Even as your stomach swirled and tightened. "Logan, I was just teasing, I didn't mean-"

"But you did, pumpkin." Logan railed into you, one hand pressed between shoulder blades you keep you down, the other squeezing and pulling and touching your body. "You wanted it, you wanted me and you were just to scared to ask. Don't worry," He huffs, hot breath against your ear. "I got you."

He fucked into your core with a fervor you've never felt, a desire for you that was palpable in the air. He was hot, and you did want him... but not like this. "Logan..." You stop moving, stop squirming, stop fighting and lay down. When he sucks kiss to your neck, you can't help it anymore and cum on his cock stretching you open.

"Good girl..." Logan groans, your tightness pushing him over the edge. He bred your sweet pussy full of his cum, pumping you so full that as he continued to pound into you, the white slick platters out from around his member.

When it was over, he continued to lay on top of you, holding you close to him with hi nose familiarizing himself with the scent of your hair. Delicious.

"Logan..." You whimper underneath him. "Just let me go... I'm not gonna tell Scott, or- or anyone. Just please get off me."

"I'm sorry, pumpkin..." He licked a stripe up the side of your face. "not even Scott could keep me away from you now. You're mind." Logan sits up, resting back on his haunches and undoes his jacket. With surprisingly gentle hands, Logan pulls you up and wraps the sweatshirt around your waist to cover the hole he riped in your leggings and underwear. "I'm not gonna stop doing this."

****************************

thanks guys!!!! I've been cracking down on school so not as much time to write :(((

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @madamerubrum @journal3sposts @tomhockstetter7-111 @and-claudia @yeaiamme2 @xoxabs88xox @hornystan @mortuary-reads @hereforthehitsbaby y @alexisdotnett @kemi707 @spookysquids @zaggprincess2 @freythecrazyfae @esperanza229 @chocolatequeenbasement

[bat-mom-writer]

Closet Confession

Reader(Wife) x Bruce Wayne\Batman(Husband)

Summery: You married Bruce because he wanted a mother for the boys. But you and Bruce are more like "rivels" then lovers. But one evening, you and Bruce are stuck in a closet. Leading to feelings being revealed and a spicy\angry make out.

Note: No explaining how you got stuck and didn't really want to write it.

If you want more loving and sweet arranged married coming together. check out Not Just A Mother

Rating: Angst, spicy(no smut), happy ending

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Can't you back up at all? I'm practically squashed between you and the wall." you complained, trying to wriggle out of the tight spot.

Bruce's eyes searched the darkness of the closet, his hand brushing against the cold, metallic shelf. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid there's not much space in here."

Your breaths mingled in the cramped quarters, a stark contrast to the cool, antiseptic smell of Alfred's freshly laundered clothes surrounding them. You felt the tension in the air thicken like a fog, heavy and palpable.

"You just don't get it, do you?" your voice grew a little louder, your exasperation clear. "It's like you're trying to fill every corner of this space. Can't you just, I don't know, shrink for a second?" Bruce chuckled softly, the sound reverberating against the confined walls. "Well I’m sorry. Being 'too big' is not something I can control, like certain other aspects of my life." He paused, his hand still resting on the shelf. "But here, I'm just as trapped as you are."

You rolled your eyes, the darkness hiding the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. "Oh, poor billionaire with all the gadgets in the world, stuck in a closet. What a tragic fate."

"Poor billionaire's wife, complaining that her husband's too "big." You know, I know plenty of woman that would pay top dollar for that problem." Bruce quipped, trying to get his footing on the crowded floor.

"I'd probably sale that problem to them, just to get some peace around here." you grunts as Bruce accidentally steps on your foot.

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice tight with frustration. "Its like Alfred shoved everything in here, making sure we couldn't fit."

"Great analyses, world's greatest detective." you says with sarcasm.

Bruce's grip on the shelf tightens, the metal groaning under the pressure of his hand. "It's not my fault Alfred's apparently has a vendetta against closets," he retorts, his voice echoing slightly in the small space.

You can feel the heat of his body against you, and you suddenly aware of how close they really are. Your heart starts to race, not entirely from the claustrophobic situation. "Well, maybe if you weren't so obsessed with your superhero persona, you'd realize there's more to life than gadgets and brooding." You contention. You let out a gasp as you slipped and out of insinked grabbed Bruce's suit, leading for both of you to lose balance and fall into a heap on the floor. "Fucking damn it," Bruce mutters under his breath, his frustration with the closet and your ongoing argument reaching a boiling point.

"Just, both of us stop moving," You whispers, your voice unusually soft and steady. "Alfred will come along, and then we can both get out of this cramped closet."

Bruce's eyes, adjusting to the darkness, find yours. He nods slightly, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You’re both still, the only sounds your mingled breaths and the faint hum of the Wayne Manor's HVAC system. You feels the warmth arm over your head to lean against the wall. It's a strange comfort, one that you not used to from Bruce's usual stoic demeanor.

The silence stretches on, filled with the weight of their unspoken words. You can feel the tension between you too, a coil of energy that's been wound tight for far too long.

"I wonder if Dick's got the boys under control," You says after a moment," Can already imagine them turning the manor into a battleground."

Bruce groans, his face hidden in the shadow, "Why do you do that?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Do what?" you asks, genuinely puzzled.

Bruce sighs, his frustration seeping through the darkness. "Always talk about the boys. Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian. It's like that's all you care about 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time is because of something I did wrong."

Your brows furl, confusion and a hint of anger, “That’s not true, Bruce.”

Bruce's hand, which till leaned on the wall above you, tenses. "Isn't it?" His voice is low, a challenge in the darkness. "You're always there for them, playing the mother figure, and here I am, stuck in a closet with you for once, and all you can think about is them."

You have a flash of anger, "Speak for yourself, all you do is train them, work with them, patrol with them. That's where all your attention is on."

Bruce's eyes narrow, "They need me. You know that. After everything they've been through…" "And they need me too, Bruce!" You exclaimed, the frustration finally spilling over. "Jason's still dealing with his past, Tim's trying to find his place in the world, and Damian… well, you know how he is. And Dick, trying to juggle his own life and this mess we've made together." You pauses, your chest heaving with emotion. "They're not just your sidekicks or your protégés. They're our family!"

"You don't think I know that!" Bruce exclaims, his voice echoing in the closet. His hand slams against the wall, and you can see the flash of anger in his eyes, even in the dim light. "They're my responsibility, my legacy. But you… you're supposed to be my partner, my confidant, and here you are, more concerned about them than about us."

You’re eyes widen, and feeling the sting of his words. "You're…! You're just a workaholic in a bat costume!" You yells back, your voice bouncing off the walls. "You can't even take a moment to realize that I need you too!"

Bruce's grip on the shelf turns white-knuckled, his jaw clenched. "Is that what you think of me?" he asks, his voice strained. "That I don't care about you?"

"I don't know! All you ever seem to care about is being the Batman!" you spits out, your anger palpable. You feels the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath against your cheek. "Never caring to be my husband."

Bruce opens and closes his mouth, his nose flaring with anger when suddenly, without warning, he pulls you into a rough kiss. The kiss is fueled by a mix of anger and passion, a stark contrast to your heated words. Your initial shock quickly turns to confusion, but you doesn't push him away. Instead, you finds yourself responding, your own frustration melding into the kiss. Your lips move against each other in a silent battle of wills, hands fisting in clothes and hair. It's as if all the unspoken resentment and longing has been funneled into this one, intense moment. You tastes the mint from his toothpaste, feels the stubble on his chin scraping against your skin. It's raw and real and everything you didn't know you needed.

"I fucking hate you," you murmurs into the kiss, your voice muffled by his insistent mouth. Bruce's grip on you tightens, pulling you closer until there's not a sliver of space between them. "I hate you too, now come here." he growls, the words vibrating against you lips.

Your kisses become more fervent, their bodies pressed together as if trying to bridge the gap that's grown between them. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, digging in, pulling him closer still, as if you could somehow absorb him into yourself and end this constant cycle of fighting and misunderstanding.

Bruce's hand slides down your back, cupping your hip, his other hand tangling in your hair. He deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fierce hunger that surprises you. Your own hands find their way to Bruce's chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. Your nails dig in slightly, a silent protest to the way he's been neglecting you in favor of his nightly escapades. But the feel of him against you, the taste of him, it's all so intoxicating that you can't help but melt more into the kiss.

Bruce's mouth leaves yours to trace a hot path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. Your pulse quickens at the sensation, a shiver running down your spine. You arches your neck, giving him more access, and he takes it eagerly, kissing and nipping at the tender flesh. "I love you," he murmurs against you skin, his breath hot and urgent. "I love you, I love you." Your eyes flutter closed as you feels Bruce's teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending a bolt of desire through you. "I love you too, you fucking…" you starts to say, but the words get lost as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. You gasps, your nails digging father into his shoulders.

His kisses become more feverish, your breathing harsh and erratic. You can feel the fabric of your clothes sticking to your sweat-slicked skin, the heat of your bodies threatening to ignite the very air around you.

Suddenly, the door to the closet creaks open, flooding the space with light. Alfred's shocked "Oh my," pierces the haze of passion that has enveloped them. Dick and the other boys, peering in, have wide eyes that dart from your neck, already sporting dark bruises from Bruce's passionate kisses, to you tangled limbs on the floor. The sight is like a cold shower, abruptly jolting you back to reality.

Dick, ever the responsible one, quickly jumps into action, turning to shield the younger ones from the scene. "Well, we found you, so… we're just gonna…" he says awkwardly, as he uses his foot to gently close the door, his voice trailing off as the darkness swallows you once more. You and Bruce freeze, your breaths heavy and mingled.

You stare at each other, the reality of your situation crashing down upon them like a tidal wave. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Well… shit," you murmur, breaking the silence that had descended upon you like a thick fog.

"Yeah, you could say that again," Bruce agrees, his voice gruff with embarrassment. He gently pushes himself off of you, his hands lingering for a moment before retreating. You both sit up, trying to smooth out your clothes and regain some semblance of composure. The closet feels even more claustrophobic now, the air thick with tension and a newfound awareness of each other's bodies.

You laugh nervously, the sound bouncing off the walls. "So, how do we explain this one?" You ask, glancing at the closed door.

Bruce runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the closet. "I don't know. Maybe we just say we were… uh, practicing CPR?" he suggests, his cheeks darkening.

You snort with laughter, "On my neck?" The absurdity of the situation hits you like a punchline, and suddenly, you're both laughing, the tension of the moment dissipating like mist under the glow of humor.

"Maybe we should just stick to the truth," Bruce suggests, his own laughter subsiding into a chuckle. "They've seen worse."

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your smile. "True," you concede, "but it might be a bit awkward at dinner."

Bruce's eyes meet yours again, and you see the mischief in them, the same spark that had first drawn you to him. "Then we tell them for breakfast," he jokes, his voice low and filled with a playful challenge.

You smack his shoulder, "You're terrible," you giggle, the tension in the air shifting to a lighter, more comfortable atmosphere.

Bruce grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "Well, I'm serious. Can't tell them at dinner when we won't be there."

You stare at him for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. "What do you mean, 'we won't be there'?" You ask, your laughter dying in your throat.

Bruce leans back against the wall, his expression serious. "I mean, I know we've had our… issues lately, but I want to fix that. I want us to have a real date, just the two of us." His hand finds yours in the darkness, giving it a squeeze. "I'll take you out to the city, show you a side of Gotham that isn't all doom and gloom."

You blink in surprise, the warmth from his hand spreading through your body. "A date?" You repeat, your voice still a little shaky from the passionate interlude.

Bruce nods, his thumb stroking the back of your hand gently. "Yeah, a real one. No masks, no crime fighting, no children drama, just us."

You can't help but smile at his earnestness, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the cramped space. "Okay," you whisper, "that sounds… nice."

Bruce's smile widens, and you feel his hand squeeze yours. "It'll be more than nice," he promises, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. "I'll make sure of it."

[thetepes]

There's one thing in seeing her work and saying "Hey, I want to write my own Pokemon story because I have a story to tell and I think I could make something better than this!" That's good. That's based. I want to read all your much better Pokemon stories or Avatar stories or Star Wars stories. Send them to me.

Taking her story apart and pointing out the faults, flaws, weirdness, and downright gross bullshit? Fine. Good. We need more people doing it. Hell, even point point out one or two things she did well while youre at it if you can't find them.

Rewriting her work? That's another thing. I'm barely comfortable with redesigns because I saw someone sending their redesigns to Morch for her approval?

A redesign going "Here's what's wrong with this, let's fix it and discuss" is not the same as "Here's my take on Bonny! Isn't she cute!?" That's fan behavior. You're just a fan. You're a fan and you know there's something objectively weird and wrong with that and don't want the social punishments of just coming out and saying it.

[thriftyshark530]

Whumpee wakes up in bed, looking over to notice caretaker is missing. Before they can question, they're distracted by the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen. Whumpee slowly pushes themselves up, wincing from the stitches pulling at their wounds, though they pushed through. Eventually climbing out of bed, they open their bedroom door and head towards the kitchen. Whumpee is greeted with the sight of caretaker standing over the stove, too busy cooking to notice whumpee enter.

"what's cooking, good looking"

Caretaker jumps at the sound, but doesn't turn around. "I told you to stay in bed" caretaker mutters.

"Yeah, well, when do I take orders, hm?"

"Just sit down"

Whumpee's smile fades as they pull out a chair from the table and sits down, waiting patiently for caretaker to finish.

When caretaker is finished, they make two plates, sitting one in front of whumpee and quickly returning to their own. Eating over the stove, back still turned to whumpee.

"Hey, uh, are you going to sit down? You always sit down with me."

Caretaker doesn't answer, finishing their food and putting the plate in the sink, making sure to never look at whumpee.

Whumpee then begins to slowly stand up, pulling at their stitches again as they do so, ignoring the pain as they fully stand up. Whumpee then approaches caretaker, gently planting a hand on caretaker's shoulder. Whumpee notices what feels like shaking coming from caretaker, and they begin to move closer, but caretaker pulls away before whumpee can see caretaker's face.

"Hey, caretaker, are you ok?"

"I'm fine" caretaker responds. Whumpee almost steps back from the coldness of caretakers tone. As caretaker begins to leave, whumpee reaches out and grabs their arm, turning caretaker around to make eye contact. Before whumpee can say anything, they're greeted with the sight of caretakers watery eyes.

Before whumpee can process what they're looking at, caretakers attention moves down whumpees body. Caretaker reaches out a hand, starting to gently move their fingers over whumpees stitches.

"Do they hurt?" Caretakers chokes out a sob, as tears finally begin falling down their face.

"Wha- what? Yeah, a little". Whumpee seems almost annoyed at the question, being focused on why caretaker is crying.

"Caretaker, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"You almost died.". Caretaker chokes out another sob as they gently move their hands to whumpee's shoulders, being careful not to touch any of whumpee's wounds.

"You shouldn't look like this. It was supposed to be me, whumpee. Whumper, he...he wanted me, you shouldn't have even been there"

"Caretaker..." Whumpee tries to intervene, but is cut off my caretaker

"I'm sorry, I haven't been meaning to avoid you. But it's just so hard to see you like this, and... and every time I see you, I'm reminded about how it's my fault."

"Caretaker, it's ok". Whumpee whispers, reaching up a hand to start wiping caretakers tears off their cheeks.

"How? How is it ok, whumpee? You almost died because of me"

"Hey, you made sure that didn't happen, right?". Whumpee points towards one of their stitched wounds.

"and besides, I couldn't watch them hurt you, caretaker."

"I couldn't watch them hurt you either, whumpee, but I had to. And there was so much blood, and your screams, I couldn't-"

"Stop"

"And I didn't know if I could put you back together, and I was scared, so fucking scared that I'd lose you too"

"Caretaker, stop.". Whumpee hooks a finger under caretakers chin, making them look up at whumpee. "Hey, you didn't lose me, ok? I'm right here, I told you I'd always be right here, by your side. I'm sorry, caretaker, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you through that, and-"

"Never do that again." Caretaker cuts off whumpee, staring up at them waiting for a response. "Promise me you'll never do that again.".

"I...I promise, caretaker." Whumpee whispers, gently moving some of caretakers hair behind their ear.

Caretaker nods in agreement, before breaking down into a full ugly cry. Jumping into whumpee and burying their face in whumpee's chest, wrapping their arms tightly around whumpee, choking on their own sobs.

"I- I begged them to stop" caretaker cries against whumpee's skin.

"I know, I know you did." Whumpee whispers, wrapping caretaker up in their arms and planting a kiss on the top of their head.

[omg-snakes]

Ugh my spotted python bit me today. Hes my first snake and I feel bad he’s getting all my newbie mistakes but he’s done really well with handling and this is the first time I just don’t know what happened? I know they don’t bite out of the blue but I had taken him outside and he was very relaxed in my arms with his head on my shoulder, I stepped off the porch so he could feel some sun and made sure to keep his head in the shade and after a few seconds he moves around to the front of me and just slams my lip. Obviously it’s not bad I’m just so frustrated and feel like every step forward has like three back. And maybe he just doesn’t want to be handled that would be ok but he seems so good and happy to explore most of the time. I have looked into choice based handling but he never wants to wake up and come out of his hides during the day but he always is relaxed once he is out.

Aw, I'm so sorry you got tagged. That sounds like it was really jarring. Please don't be discouraged, though. Snake keeping is a journey, not a destination, and though it may feel like you're not making good progress, every experience is an opportunity to learn and grow with your pet.

Spotted pythons are nocturnal, so he may have been startled by the sudden sunshine and warmth and either mistook you for a predator or a snack. Bites are disheartening (and a bite in the face doubly so!) but it's part of snake ownership. We will all take a chomp at some point.

I once had my leucistic Texas rat snake on my lap while I was reading and I guess he fell asleep at some point, and when I moved my arm I must have startled him awake because he freaked out and tagged me out of nowhere. I was shocked and a bit hurt in the moment, and I totally get how you're feeling. It's nobody's fault. These are animals and sometimes they react to stimuli we think are pretty benign in ways we didn't expect!

If you're going to implement choice-based handing, it'll likely only happen after the sun has gone down. It might be good to try to interact on his terms for a while, as late in the day as you can and in low-light situations. He's less likely to be a butt if he's up and active during the part of his natural rhythm when he's most alert.

I mean, imagine having somebody pull you out of bed at 3am and shine a flashlight with the power of the sun at you. Even if it wasn't right in your eyes, you might be a touch irritable!

I hope that the two of you can find some common ground and that you are able to build more confidence as a keeper. Forgive yourself when you make mistakes, as you so quickly forgave him when he bit you. I know spotted pythons are considered a decent beginner species but I've definitely found them more challenging than some of the other options.

At the end of the day you're just two completely different animals trying to understand each other, and that's pretty cool.

[emmmaa4]

I don’t know if you do male reader! But if you can please do make it that and if not do gender neutral.

Buttttt I would love a fic where Male reader just puts Jimmy (mouthwashing) in his place, just fucks the shit out of him really, give him a taste of his own medicine kind of thing, just rough sex.

I’ve love your work, and your writing is so amazing!! Take your time please if you do my ask 😭🙏

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for this proposal and for your words. I hope you and others like this fic. 💙

Male!Reader x Jimmy (mouthwashing)

⚠️ TW: NSFW, abuse, degradation..

"A taste of your own medicine"

I had entered into this 'great adventure' to feel better and to be a little more useful. I don't think I'm a bad guy, I just have a very strong sense of justice when it comes to the bad things that happen to me or, rather, to the people I like.

When one time, Anya, the Tulpar nurse had taken me alone to the infirmary, only to break down crying in front of me, almost screaming about how Jimmy had abused her, used her, as if she were just another piece of meat; something in me broke at that moment, I was furious. Even though I only tried to hug Anya and comfort her

"Please don't tell him anything! He'll kill me, I swear, he will..."

"Don't worry, I won't tell him anything, I promise Anya."

Of course that was a complete lie but honestly, I didn't want her to worry anymore. Curly was a corpse that could barely breathe, Swansea and Daisuke were just trying to do what they could to keep going; and on top of that, this idiot, in the end, ends up getting away with it like a slippery worm in the mud.

So, I just didn't think about it, I didn't want to think about it. Do I really have to think about it at this point when we're all about to die?! I don't think so. I looked for Jimmy, and I found him, he was almost hiding (so to speak), he was in the console room, this room was full of that white foam shit, Jimmy looked upset; I went in, closed the door behind me, the room was red because of the lights.

"You?! Get out of here, I'm making a plan because of your fault, because of Curl-"

He spat out his filthy words, thank god I'm a bit taller than him and fast too, I quickly punched him in the face, sending him crashing to the ground, the metal making a giant clatter. Jimmy gasped, his face scrunching up in anger, already getting up as he staggered to punch me. I grabbed him by his overalls, "Oh, don't you think you can, you little shit" - I quickly tackled him back onto the metal floor, chest face down, being crushed by my weight.

"You think you're a genius, without feeling guilty about all the things you've done?! Huh?!"

I grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head forcefully to whisper: "I'll make you taste a little of your own medicine.."

He gasped in shock, I used my hand to slam his head back into the cold ground, him gasping at the pain it caused him. I quickly tore with what I had of my strength, of my fury, his pants and pulled them down, I heard him scream beneath me but I quickly spanked him even though he had boxers on, he screamed loudly at this.

"Shhh... You like doing this to innocent people but you don't like it when it's done to you? Crying bitch..."

I started to hit his ass more, his body responded with small spasms, he also let out small gasps at my spankings. I got closer to his face, my mouth on his ear to whisper: "If you try to escape, I'll kill you."

I let go of Jimmy's hair, for a second I thought I saw tears in his psycho eyes as I got a little closer, I could only smile at the thought. I positioned myself behind him to tear the fabric of his boxers, his ass was already red; I couldn't help but bite my lower lip furiously, seeing so much pain from someone who had caused that same pain.

I started to hit him more, his ass turning a painful red, I heard Jimmy let out a scream out of nowhere causing me to quickly squeeze his ass with my big hands: "Shut up, you didn't let her scream, why I would let you then? Get your ass up."

Jimmy's hips shook but he still tried to lift them as best he could, I saw him turn his head slightly to the right to see me behind him, I saw a small dry tear come out of his eye. I would lower the zipper of my jumpsuit to take it off below my hips and take out my cock, resting it between Jimmy's two red and sore buttocks, he would jump when he felt it: "Oh, is the abuser sensitive?" I said with pure sarcasm, he dedicated himself to sticking his face to the floor. My cock began to harden, leaving pre-cum at the entrance of his ass, I would rest the tip of my member at the entrance, I decided to take just a few seconds to tell him with a furious voice: "I hope this hurts" - I slammed my penis inside his ass completely, without gentleness, without love, only fury and revenge.

Jimmy's little screams would sound all over the room, with the red consoles and that foam around. I would hear him gasp, I don't know if it was from pain or pleasure, I didn't care; I would pull out and bury my cock against his ass while I grabbed his red buttocks to hold him even if it hurt, I would hit him from time to time, just to take out the anger I have of him ON HIM.

"Stop! Stop please!"

"Oh no... we're going to be like this until you can't move anymore."

I grabbed his hair back so I could ram him deeper, my hair disheveled from moving so much, in a harsh way I grabbed his hips and rammed one last time, my balls would pucker as I would cum inside him, even being inside, still grabbing his hair I would guide his head so he would turn to look at me, he had saliva coming out of his mouth, along with dry and new tears coming out of his tear ducts; I got closer to his ear and whispered:

"Take responsibility Jimmy."

I threw his head against the ground, leaving him lying there, as I stood up to put on my overalls without a care in the world, I walked to the metal door, before leaving I gave him one last look; lying there, panting, having small spasms, and the worst? He had cum, his semen shot in his abdomen.

[27daisuki]

Hello again! I recently added subs to the dmmd stage plays (except Ren's! i do not take credit for that). Originally i only had 4 routes, but I received Mink's and ViTri's routes and just finished subbing! (thank you @minkiemoo for sending them to me!!)

They're all updated on the same Google drive that i posted before but I'll repost it here

I hope you all enjoy!! please let me know if I missed anything or if it's not working (I didn't finish subbing the post credit conversations but i wanted to get the rest of the play out there first)

translators notes and general thoughts below if u care

Woo!!!! I'm so happy i got to watch all the routes and I'm very happy to make it easier to consume for English speakers! the game blew up in 2014 on tumblr from a fan translation iirc? so I think it's only fair that I do my part now that I'm at a level of fluency where I can do that too! my goal since i was a kid to be able to watch/play things in jp without subs or translation, and i think i only recently realized i can do that now lol

it has been a very long time since I started learning jpn (i believe in total it has been 18 years on and off 💀 god) and i just wasn't confident in my skills but when i was watching Ren's route (it was the only one available overseas without vpn shit and had subs) and no shade to whoever had to sub Ren's route but i noticed some subs were just straight up wrong? (there's a part where aoba is looking at a screen at toue's speech and it was just all wrong) so i think that coupled with having friends that also like dmmd and wanted to watch the other routes inspired me to do my own damn subs lmao 😂

I'm absolutely not saying my subs are perfect, I'm sure there are spots that aren't 100% accurate (mostly because i can't 100% hear exactly what syllables they're saying sometimes because they talk so fast or just the audio quality or mumbling lol noiz I'm looking at you), but if i was unsure at any point I'd cross check the game lol if anyone notices any point where my subs are inaccurate, please let me know! i take no offense and honestly would love to be corrected so i can know for the future

also lastly, i did wanna touch on my strategy for subbing! jpn and English don't translate very well to each other all the time so there are some things that are said in jp that if i wrote literally in English would feel awkward or be hard to understand, so for some dialogue i tried to convey what they were saying with phrases that would make more sense to an English reader. So if you hear some sentences/words and you're like, wait that's not 100% exactly what they said, there's a good chance I know and i made the choice to translate it differently. it can be really hard to know when to leave something literally translated and when to localize it, or how far you should change the wording even if you keep the important information in a sentence, and which words i can leave out because of how fast they talk😭

jpn is also a very context heavy language, which means they leave out words in a sentence because it's implied that they're still in the sentence but you're supposed to fill them in. so there are many times where it sounds like in jp, they say 2 words, but it could really actually be like 6 because they're assuming you filled in the other 4 words. English you can only really get away with so much not said, and it can feel a bit weird when u read 6 words on the screen but hear the actors say 2 words lmao but just trust me on this, i promise I'm not adding words outta no where😂

one example: when Mizuki is holding a knife to Tae, he says 後悔すんなよ which literally means "don't regret this", but with the full context he's saying something close to "don't regret this because it's gonna be your fault your grandma dies" which obviously is a lot more than what he said and I can't write all that on the screen for 2 seconds. The best equivalent to this (imo) was too write "You'll regret this", because even though it's not what he said in jp, it still gets the point across to english speakers and eng speakers can fill in the blank that he'll regret this because he didn't take Mizuki's threats seriously. It's less words and it's easier to digest in the few seconds that you have to read the sub

anyway i just want it to be known that i put a lot of care into these subs and thought very hard about how I translated each sentence, so i hope that you can trust my work!

Thank you again for all the kind words! I hope you enjoy the plays!!

[firstkanaphans]

RE your tags on the bromance thing - I think I allowed myself to get a little panicky earlier when seeing a few people talk about there potentially being more, and whilst there are a few points made that I can understand, I do feel like the amount of worry I’m seeing it maybe a little preemptive?

Like, I do agree that it feels stupid to put TayNew in a bromance series; if they wanted two actors that are close & have worked together before, why not Tay and Off or New and Gun or something? BUT I did see that Tay and New actually wanted to do a bromance series together, so there’s part of me thinking that this was THEIR choice to do this series and not give it to some other actors. (And let’s be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone else who could have made this show so warm, angsty, and lovely.)

I feel like GMMTV has really been embracing their BLs a bit more if I’m honest, and sure, they do queer baiting in their non-queer shows, but who doesn’t? You can watch anything on Netflix or whatever and find ‘bromances’ that are severe queer baiting.

I kinda feel like sometimes people pile on GMMTV a bit much, all because they’re kinda like the biggest company in the drama community that does decent queer dramas? I don’t know if that’s just me being blind to their flaws, but I sometimes think they get a little more hate than other production companies and not always deservedly? (I mean I know they aren’t perfect and I call out their bullshit myself, but I feel like sometimes it’s ‘cool’ to hate on them?)

Sorry if none of this makes sense and I’m rambling - it’s almost 2am and I really need to sleep 🤣

In my opinion, these claims that GMMTV is going to pivot to bromances because they’re less gay and more profitable are absolutely baseless. Bromances are not new to GMMTV. They’re not even new to TayNew as I believe I’m Tee, Me Too was a bromance as well. Like you said, P’Dome explicitly stated that TayNew wanted to film a show together that was not a BL. Should they not be able to? And weren’t these same people complaining just days ago that CPs are never allowed to act outside of their CP? Now, they’re mad when they do.

What people are losing their marbles over is literally just the cast and crew having a good time with the fans. Did they play into the shipping aspect both onscreen and off? Of course they did! What writer worth their salt would have passed up such a perfect opportunity? But to me, it didn’t feel malicious. It felt like P’Dome was just having fun and giving Polcas a little nod. I almost feel like it would have been more strange if he hadn’t.

People certainly don’t have to like bromances, but it’s like We Are all over again where people were saying its very existence was indicative of the fall of the genre as we know it. And that’s just utterly ridiculous. This isn’t a queer story where the queerness was censored. In fact, there were explicit queer themes throughout. This is just a platonic love story and a lot of people who may not be interested in romantic relationships have found immense value in that.

Like I said in my tags, P’Aof is the Director of Content Production at GMMTV, meaning he is literally the one in charge of what content is being produced, and I’m choosing to trust the gay Thai man who has dedicated his career to this. He has such a passion for telling queer stories. Why would he stop now?

But like you said, it’s become hip to hate on GMMTV. And look, I don’t like corporations either, but let’s not pretend like GMMTV isn’t really fucking gay. Because they are. This is not a company that has ever shied away from explicitly queer content and is actually making more of it than ever before, so I’m not going to fault them for adding a few shows for the straights too. And if they have to make het stuff, I would much rather sit through a bromance than anything else.

I mean Jesus Christ. Peaceful Property was fun. I had fun. And it was also really good—easily my favorite offering from GMMTV all year—so if they want to make a hundred more bromances just like this, I’m certainly not going to complain about it. Some people just don’t want to enjoy anything.

(And go to sleep, Pip! It’s late 😂)

[liquidorcard]

Tw: Heavy topic discussion ahead.

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So I have suffered with suicidal ideation for the majority of my life. As long as I can remember-- even when I was a child to some extent.

Despite current awareness of mental health issues, honestly, I don't think we have as a society really resolved yet how to earnestly address the issue. I don't blame people for not knowing what to say to suicidal people or just defaulting to the whole "oh I'm sorry, you're not alone, blah blah blah" song and dance. I get they don't know what to say, but.

The issue with being always suicidal is that it's kinda a bitch to figure out how to just live with? You don't want to worry people, or emotionally burden them, you dont want them walking on eggshells around you forever because they think at any moment they could accidentally push you over the edge. Because the conversation around suicidal ideation is so focused on NOT being suicidal anymore, it functionally silences people in a well-meaning, but still harmful way.

Like, let ol' uncle Eldritch affirm for anyone reading this right now: it's OKAY to be suicidal. Not okay as in, indulge the urge. But suicidal ideation is a mental health concern like any other. It's not your fault, and stressing yourself out that you feel this way will do you no good. Accepting a feeling is not the same as acting on it.

For most people the feeling is temporary, but the reality is for some of us it's not. The feeling might be more intense sometimes than others, but it's okay if they're always there. Strange thing to say, I know, but you don't owe anyone happiness. You don't owe anyone self-contentment. Yes, we all want those things, but getting upset with yourself that you haven't achieved that beyond healthy degrees is a vicious cycle that will only make you more miserable.

There's a difference between treating negative emotions as an undesirable outcome, and treating them as if they're a mistake. As if they're not often enough a logical outcome to many of life's challenges, especially these days.

Counterintuitive, I know, but accepting that someday I might lose the battle with my own suicidal ideation probably saved my life at several low points. Something I've had to reaffirm within myself several times over my life. And something it's been very hard to get other people to understand.

The problem may be bad, but it's almost always the stigma that makes it dire.

I'm not going to pretend there isn't some degree of a grain of truth to the idea that some people use suicidal intent to get attention, but that's a gross and misleading oversimplification of the issue. Some people have no suicidal intent, but use it as a means of manipulating others. I'd say those types of people are rarer than you might imagine, but yes, they exist. I'd say the majority of people, especially the ones who express the thought over and over again, just don't know what to do with their feelings. They're looking for an outlet, an explanation, validation, solidarity-- something. They're looking to not feel so isolated anymore, having feelings they know they "shouldn't be having." As stated above, our society still doesn't accept the feelings as acceptable even if we've moved the dial on the topic, and they're feeling shame and frustration that they just can't quite move past that.

I don't want to speak for everyone but I do believe I'm very much not alone on this when I say the phrase "I want to die"/"I'm suicidal" with the same type of intent I say, "I want to sleep," or "I'm hungry." I'd rather be awake and full, but, I'm currently feeling compelled to satisfy the urge to go to bed or eat. I'd rather be alive, however, dying feels like a very tempting offer. Inconveniently, of course, that craving happens to have permanent results. Can't go back to living if/when I have enough spoons to keep going, boo.

That's a very confusing sensation to grapple with-- understanding your life is a finite resource you aren't going to be able to get back, but also, being fucking sick of it. It's hard to know what to do about that-- especially because, again, you aren't ALLOWED to feel that way apparently.

If that feeling can be fixed it should, but some of us don't have that luxury. Some of us are broken in a way you can patch up, but we can never be fully restored to a mint-like condition. We still have value, we still are useful and can be fully realized people, if there was only room for us to be taken as we are and not how people want us.

Outrageously irresponsible and fucked Lily had the balls to give advice on this, if that even has to be said. Rest assured, she's on my "To Haunt" list if I do end up offing myself (in Minecraft.)

[exn0bis]

So. Completed Veilguard. I have lots of thoughts.

Regardless, I don't think I'd be saying anything that hasn't already been said.

For my part, I went in with the expectation it was going to be bad. I was pleasantly surprised by some things, certainly by the technical aspects, but it fell about where I expected in most other ways.

But first, the good.

It was extremely refreshing to see a AAA game actually release so well optimized for once. I'm running an older system at this point, with a GTX 1080 TI. Even so, out of the box, I was able to run things on the Medium preset perfectly. After some troubleshooting the latest Nvidia driver, and updating the games native upscaling to FSR 3.x, I was running things on a mix of High & Ultra with minimal to no frame drops. This was way beyond what I expected, and made the play experience more enjoyable. While I do think that, like many games in the past few years, there is some over reliance on upscaling to make it look its best, Veilguard still maintains excellent visual fidelity without it.

On that note, the game is objectively gorgeous, regardless of how one feels about the art style (which I did personally like, too); I'm also extremely impressed how they adapted a simulated strand hair system into something playable in real-time without it being overly taxing. Would love to know the technical breakdown for that specifically, but either way, I would not be surprised if we start to see more games released with something similar going forwards.

Veilguard very much proved you can make something look gorgeous and still have it be playable on more than just the latest and greatest systems, and I hope it will encourage more studios to focus on how they optimize and implement their work.

I also found the general gameplay mechanics to be, overall, enjoyable. I was hesitant going in, as I'm 1) bad at games, and 2) from a CRPG background, so the real-time style of combat is not generally something I'm good at. I was also concerned about the stripping down of party mechanics, etc, that was a big part of the previous games. And while I do wish the party tactics had been a little more varied, I ultimately found combat fun and responsive, and that they struck a reasonable balance between simplicity with party, and overly tactical. It did have way too many buttons & combos for me, but that is definitely a me being bad at games thing and not a fault in the game.

I also was extremely impressed with how smoothly the game transitioned from gameplay to cutscenes, and I really liked the more open maps/elimination of excess loading screens.

Unfortunately, that is about all the praise I have for the game.

I'm not really going to talk too much about the complete disregard for the world state built by previous titles, because I think all that needs to be said about that has been. I agree that, from a development standpoint, they needed to find a way to simplify things. However, going so totally scorched earth that character creation literally states "you don't need to customize your previous choices if you don't want to because it doesn't really affect anything" only serves to insult and infuriate the very dedicated player base.

It's very clear that the goal of Veilguard is to wipe the slate clean for the purposes of rebranding and bringing in new players for future installments/capital. Considering the mass layoffs at Bioware, and EA's generally established business practices, this sort of tactic isn't really surprising, no, and was truthfully only a matter of time. But that doesn't stop it from feeling like a slap in the face.

That being established, the total disregard for existing lore, world state, impact of previous titles, glaring plot holes within Veilguard itself, etc, is unfortunately to be expected. No point in picking it apart individually, as it's all just a symptom of the goal of a clean slate reboot.

Which isn't to say I wasn't cursing at my screen by the end of it, but I digress.

I had hoped I could at least enjoy the game as something new, turn off the part of my brain that associated it with Dragon Age and just play it as a stand alone thing. This even worked for the first chapter or so, as I was really enjoying the exploration and gameplay. And then I started recruiting more people. And the main plot started to really get going. And turning my brain off suddenly stopped helping.

The writing is awful, full stop. It's all incredibly surface level and sanitized, and it treats the player with such ineptitude I started to feel like the game had actual disdain for me for trying to play and enjoy it. If I had a dollar for every time an NPC explicitly repeated a plot point or goal immediately after a cutscene that had already painfully spelled it out for me ended, I would have recouped the price of the game three times over. I get that reading comprehension is at an all time low, but holy shit. I paid for a sweeping fantasy narrative, not a degradation simulator that treats me like a moron.

If we manage to put that aside, we're left with a narrative that spends every spare second trying to convince you of how high the stakes are and how important your relationships will be to get through it... and then never actually manages to deliver on any of it. The game repeatedly shies away from showing you anything actually bad, or building anything actually meaningful.

Yes, we see the Blight being gross and a few choice deaths, but that's it. The mass devastation we're told is constantly happening all over Thedas? The staggering amounts of death taking place? The oh-so-vile practices and punishments of our main antagonists? Anything and everything that has to do with the extremely prevalent theme of slavery? That all happens off screen, if it happens at all. Somewhere nice and clean and safe for it to exist, sanitized of any tension or emotional impact. I cannot decide if the flagrant pacing issues in the narrative are a product of the missing tension, or their own problem.

And those important relationships we're told about follow the same pattern. Even if we ignore how everyone speaks to each other like they're reading the script of an HR Workplace Togetherness video, their personal stories are devoid of the stakes we are assured they have. I wanted so desperately to care about the things these character's cared about, but I left still unconvinced the character's themselves even gave a shit.

And with a shallow plot comes a shallow character; I felt no attachment to any of them, despite telling myself they'd grow on me as I progressed. Of course, I also didn't dislike any of them, either; I just didn't care, and I find that infinitely more damming.

I think what I find most frustrating is that the potential in the characters is there, at least. They're each interesting concepts with interesting themes, and every so often I'd get a cutscene that actually got me to feel something, to react, and I'd get excited thinking 'oh, this must be when it gets good.' But no, as soon as you're out of the cutscene, it's situation normal again. No more feelings, no more tension. That all happened off screen, again. Any emotional turmoil the character in question was in moments before is now gone in favor of Group Togetherness.

Rook is no exception to any of this, either; exactly as tepid as the rest, but coated with an even less polished illusion of substance. This is not helped by the fact that the game makes an active effort to remind you that Solas is the actual main character of this story. Rook, you as the player, are just sort of... there.

The headcanons I've seen from fans do more justice to this entire cast than the game ever does.

In summary, it's sad, I think. It's ultimately what I expected, but it's sad. Many of us have a very deep attachment to Dragon Age, the story and the community that built up around it. I literally met my wife through the Dragon Age fandom. I learned to explore some deeply personal things about myself through how I related to the story and characters because of how much depth and nuance there was to examine. To see all that reduced to what amounts to a very prettily polished turd is just... yeah. Sad.

I'm really happy that there are people who have enjoyed the game. Genuinely. I hope they'll continue to do so. Myself, I'll probably still go on a screenshot binge and enjoy how pretty it looks, too. But Veilguard is very much the end of Dragon Age, for me. And I'm sad about it.

[blueishspace]

Hero Villain God 6

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Chapter 2

*Grian's pov*

It was Mumbo to suggest putting Ariana Griande online, something about the internet having more reach. He even offered to provide you with equipment... you know he's hoping to use your income to fund his villany... you don't really care for money but you find it weird he's investing so much on your "career", did the song you sang to him really entranced him that much?

Technically you know how it works, the internet is ripe for your domain. Phisically though? You are the god of chaos ...not technology and you never really cared to learn too much about it before this moment... You though it would be like making that meme of HotGuy but no... Video and Audio Editing is so extremely tedious.

You also finally build the persona of Ariana Griande, by telling Mumbo you are her you have limited your form to a variation of "Grian" ... Still you have fun with it and Mumbo looks like he's having a great time looking at her too.

Your first video as Ariana is nothing worth talking about, just the cover of soldier poet king that you have already sung to Mumbo a few days ago... It gets 5 views by the end of the day... You could push it along with a bit of divinity but that's not nearly as fun as letting the channel grow organically. You do get one comment: "Oh lord, your voice is divine!" which is very ironic... And amusing.

Your second Ariana Griande video is another cover, at this point an orginal song wouldn't make sense. It doesn't do much better but Mumbo seems to enjoy it... Perhaps you did put too much divinity in it because Mumbo takes a minute to recover after listening in... hopefully the effects will be less intense when viewing the video at a later date.

You distract yourself from the channel for a moment as Mumbo interrupts you. He is as anxious as ever and stumbles on his words but you can understand the gist of what he's trying to say. He's going somewhere and was wondering if you wanted to join in, you don't have much to do right now anyway so you easily accept.

The coffe shop he brings you is pretty small but it surely has a certain cosiness to it... It isn't that which attracts your attention though. There is a familiar presence here, you can feel it. Hotguy is here, what are the chances?

You get up under the excuse of going to the bathroom and walk toward the man that your divinity tells you is Hotguy... without his uniform yes, but it's him nonetheless. You approach and- he turns suddenly and accidentally spills his coffee on you...

...

...

..Calm down, Grian. Do not smite the mortal. Do not smite the mortal. Do not-

"Oh! I'm so so sorry! Are you ok?!"

"I- *breathe in breathe out* yes. Just didn't expect it"

And that is true, you didn't... somehow.

"Do you need something to clean yourself with-"

"No no, calm down, It's fine"

You say it to Hotguy as much as you say it to yourself...

"Are you sure -uh...?"

"It's... Grian" Then you remember about human identity, you are leaning. "... He/Him"

"Oh! Well Uh I'm so sorry about this Grian, uh wait, I should introduce myself too! I'm Scar! Uh- He/Him Nice to meet you... Well not nice since I dropped my coffee on you but-"

Oh you can't stay angry at him if he's going to act like that. You just can't.

"It's not your fault...and It's nice to meet you too"

This too isn't a lie, after all you still don't know how you managed to not notice the coffee was going to fall on you.

You turn to Mumbo, he must have seen what happened because he looks like he doesn't know wether he should get up and help or to stay in place and mind his own buisness...he's just kind of half standing?

You'll have to cut this meeting short but perhaps...

"I have to go now but if you really want to make it up to me you can buy me coffee sometime in the future"

You put your hand in your pocket and generate a piece of paper with your number on it. You then take it out and offer it to him before going back to Mumbo.

"Grian?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you fllirt with the guy who spilled coffee on you?"

Uh? Did you? You don't think so at least.

"I have no idea what you are talking about mister Mumbo Jumbolio"

"... That isn't my full name??"

"Are you sure?"

"Y-Yeah???"

"If you say so Mimbo Jimbo."