#but i need to get that out from my system

[prettyboykatsuki]

give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,” 

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication.  There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to  trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics. 

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while. 

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.” 

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.” 

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says. 

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.” 

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all  had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,” 

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.” 

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.” 

“Are you holding a grudge against me?” 

“Against your recklessness, yes.” 

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.” 

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored. 

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way.  Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side. 

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed. 

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before  moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.” 

You shake your head. 

 “I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.” 

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.” 

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both. 

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog. 

When your mind catches up with reality,  your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Hm…?” 

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,” 

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.” 

“Another medication you mean?” 

You shake your head, smiling crookedly. 

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.” 

“Holisitic?” 

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,” 

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?” 

“Maybe… something more physical.” 

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?” 

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.” 

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.” 

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”  

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him. 

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer. 

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.” 

“I’ll be more mindful.”  You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically. 

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.” 

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown. 

“Zayne,” 

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine. 

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?” 

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.” 

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks. 

“Comfortable? No pain?” 

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body. 

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt. 

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better. 

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping  that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch. 

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint. 

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can. 

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled. 

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth. 

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you. 

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.” 

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please  you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown. 

“I said spoil me. This is torture.” 

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile. 

“I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,” 

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear. 

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,” 

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs. 

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.” 

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer. 

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it. 

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better. 

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely. 

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke. 

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,” 

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes. 

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace. 

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands. 

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again. 

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.” 

You don’t get a chance to recover  your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough. 

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not. 

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you.  Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together. 

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.” 

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.” 

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

 Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply. 

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering. 

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself. 

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint. 

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly. 

“Fuck me.” 

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—” 

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.” 

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed. 

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.” 

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—” 

“Zayne,” 

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.” 

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.” 

“Will you help?” 

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.” 

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit. 

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies. 

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle. 

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. 

“One more should be—” 

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.” 

“You know very well it’s not.” 

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.” 

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting. 

 He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first. 

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip. 

“Have you changed your mind?” 

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone. 

“Stubborn thing you are.” 

“Zayne,”  You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?” 

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.” 

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance. 

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock. 

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat. 

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together. 

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally. 

“Aren’t going to move?” 

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.” 

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks. 

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy. 

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures. 

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent,  head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge. 

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice.  His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.” 

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you. 

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too. 

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—” 

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.” 

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds. 

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you  to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time. 

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again, 

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.” 

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

__

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up. 

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you. 

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?” 

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.” 

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?” 

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?” 

“This…?” 

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?” 

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…” 

“Kind? Honest?” 

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.” 

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?” 

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.” 

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it. 

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….” 

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks. 

“As if it’s something to thank me for,” 

[mameillieureennemie]

author's note: an idea sprung up in my head where vi and reader are co-workers who hate each other but ACTUALLY—

summary: vi's been a constant pain in your ass for ages; a co-worker who lives to irritate you mercilessly. until things come to a head and a secret is unraveled.

cw: modern day, co-workers, office au, vi x f!reader

"I fucking hate you."

"Oh, that hurts my heart, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Princess?"

Your pen nearly snaps in half due to the death grip you have it in. You're absolutely furious; your rage is a burning force bubbling away at the pit of your stomach. It's hot enough to have your heart racing, thundering loudly in your chest as your blood roars in your ears.

"I swear to god, Violet," you hiss dangerously, your eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Call me that one more time, and I'll strangle you with my bare hands."

Vi raises a brow, frustratingly unaffected. "Promise?" She says, lips curving into a mocking smile, and oh, your vision goes red for a second.

Your mind drifts to all the horrible things you could do to Vi. In graphic detail. And that seems to calm you down, which should be concerning. But you can't afford to get into an all-out fight with her, in the middle of a work day, while your co-workers mill about.

Knowing them, they're just waiting for this to happen. And you can't afford to give them that satisfaction, so you take a deep breath, attempting to cool your system down.

Then you hand over the documents to Vi, emotionless, as you say, "Deal with this."

Vi, noticing that you've tapped out from your usual brawl, eyes you for a second before replying, "Sure thing."

With that, you turn to walk away so you can leave this space. But before you can even make it to the door, Vi's opening her big mouth to say:

"Princess."

It's hard for you not to lose your mind after that.

"Is this going to be a common occurrence?" Mel asks, already tired as she looks between the two of you. "I mean, we already had the fiasco a week ago where you two were yelling at each other in the break room—"

"She started it," you interrupt with a mumble, shying away when Mel aims a warning look your way.

"I don't care who stared it," Mel retorts before leaning back in her chair with a heavy sigh. "I just expect more from my employees. I expect harmonious working relationships, not arguments that turn into screaming matches. If this happens again, there's going to be serious consequences. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ms Medarda." You and Vi grumble in unison, and you're soon walking out of her office. You immediately start towards your desk, wanting to get far from Vi because your anger has yet to subside. It wasn't your fault that this happened; all Vi had to do was take the documents you handed her, but no, she had to turn it into something else.

And now Mel's got her eye on you, which is the last thing you need and—

"Hey."

That's Vi's voice, calling out to you, and the last thing you want to hear. So you keep striding, hurrying your pace to keep the space between you two. But Vi's fast; she's closing the distance and wrapping a big hand around your arm.

The touch is enough to spike your annoyance a decent amount.

You rip your arm out of her grip, baring teeth as you grit out, "What?"

Vi raises both hands up to show she means no harm. Then she's stuffing them into her pockets, sighing before she says, "Look, I'm sorry."

That throws you through a loop.

"...What?" You ask again, only less hostile and more confused.

"I'm sorry," Vi repeats easily. "I...didn't mean to rile you up so much. It's just..." She struggles for a second. "It's like when you pull on a girl's pigtails because she's cute and annoying the fuck out of her makes her talk to you?"

That throws you through another loop.

You blink a few times, trying to compute what she just said before you go, "You're fucking with me."

Vi huffs a laugh. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," you argue. "Because you can't be telling me that the reason you've been antagonising me is because you think I'm cute."

Vi shrugs, giving a lazy smile. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

You stare at her for a moment, a rush of emotions going through you. Then all you're feeling is a mixture of frustration and amusement.

"What are you? 8?" You retort, unable to think of anything else because so much has been given to you at once. The biggest being that Vi's just kind of admitted to having a crush on you and has been using preschool antics to catch your attention. Regardless of that attention being full-on rage which could have resulted in murder.

"Give me some credit," Vi replies, rolling her eyes. "I'm, at least, 10."

That draws a chuckle from you, soft and short, but a chuckle nonetheless. And Vi smiles wide because she's heard it, and she does have a nice smile, you notice.

There're many things you want to say, some of them not so kind while some more curious. But something warm flutters in your chest, giving life to a feeling that you haven't felt in a long, long time.

"...You're stupid," is that you finally settle on, and Vi laughs loudly at that. She closes the space between you two a little further, tentatively grinning.

"So I've been told," she replies before nodding towards the elevators. "So do you maybe wanna grab lunch with me or something?"

You hold Vi's gaze for a second, purse your lips before giving a small smile.

"No," you say, walking backward to maintain your gaze with Vi. "I'm busy."

"Tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"The next day?"

"Nah."

You and Vi are beaming at each other now, the space between you as wide as a chasm.

"What do I gotta do?" Vi asks, eager, and you laugh.

"Go a week without pissing me off, then you can take me out."

Vi's gaze turns determined, the look sending a slight shiver down your spine.

"Deal."

[crabdragonz]

I had a job that basically always decided that I'd work every single holiday alone, major or minor, and it was a popular job. I was the only disabled employee they had. Every time outside of those shifts, when I'd walk slowly out of exhaustion from every single holiday, they'd tell me to "have more urgency" even on a slow day. I wasn't allowed to take breaks unless there were no customers there, meaning rarely ever sitting down and not being able to eat during an 8-10 hour shift. I wasn't even allowed to have my water with me. If I needed it, I had to go to the break room to get it. Then my coworkers started having problems with me where they'd tell me, "I know you're disabled and struggling, but uhhh... idk just do better" when I'd be doing everything I can to just get through the day and be good to customers and keep everything clean and clear. When I brought that talk up to my manager, she decided to facilitate a talk with us about it . My coworker said the same exact things, and my boss refused to let me defend myself about it. Here's the thing, though: it was better than before because my boss before this would discriminate and regularly antagonize and try to embarrass me in front of customers while on the job on top of this by trying to threaten me. When he was in charge, I was able to have breaks, but again, he was actively threatening me. I got him fired, not for discrimination (which the company knew about because it was on the cameras), but because he was stealing time from the company despite being salary. My next job gave me so few hours I couldn't even survive on the money I made. I was only getting 5 hours a week and being paid $10 a day, but their merchandise was heavily discounted and it's one of my favorite stores, so most of my paycheck went right back into the company. I got my name changed while working there, and they refused to change it in the system. It was just an overall nightmare. I haven't found work since then, and I'm honestly terrified that I never will despite wanting nothing more than to never need to work again.

I would like to see more people talk about how jobs treat disabled employees.

I used to prep, wash dishes, and cook at mellow mushroom. I had chronic pain that wasn't NEARLY as bad as it is today, but it was still very debilitating. I told my employer "i cannot stand more than 4 to 6 hours. I CANNOT do shifts longer than this due to my illness." And even though i made my boundaries VERY clear, everyday i worked it was 8 hours at the least and 10 or 12 at the most. I would go up to my manager and say "look i really need to leave, my shift is over, my chronic pain is killing me." And he'd say "we really need to here, you HAVE to push through." And so i did, and after one, ONE month of that job my crps got incredibly worse to the point where i could no longer walk my dog around the block which was .5 miles. I quit, and that was FOUR years ago, and ever since that day I HAVE BEEN BEDRIDDEN AND HAVE TO USE A WHEELCHAIR. It is my biggest regret in life.

My best friend who has seen my whole journey has recently developed undiagnosed chronic pain, and she is in the EXACT same scenario i was 4 years ago. Busting her ass at a pizza place with extreme pain that hurts her so much she tells me "im in so much pain i don't even feel like a person." She doesn't feel LUCID. And her manager and coworkers are saying the same thing "if you don't help us you will let us down, we'll be in the shit."

That job thats hurting you isn't fucking worth it. I promise you no money is worth losing all your physical abilities and never getting them back. Your coworkers and boss do not give a shit about you, so don't you dare suffer for them. They will never understand your struggle and they will never try. They truly think being understaffed is worse than whatever pain you experience. They would rather you permanently damage yourself than inconvenience them. FUCK THEM. DON'T FUCKING DO IT!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

They were warned

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

Truth is provisional! Sometimes, the things we understand to be true about the world change, and stuff we've "always done" has to change, too. There comes a day when the evidence against using radium suppositories is overwhelming, and then you really must dig that radium out of your colon and safely dispose of it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction

So it's natural and right that in the world, there will be people who want to revisit the received wisdom and best practices for how we live our lives, regulate our economy, and organize our society. But not a license to simply throw out the systems we rely on. Sure, maybe they're outdated or unnecessary, but maybe not. That's where "Chesterton's Fence" comes in:

Let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G._K._Chesterton#Chesterton's_fence

In other words, it's not enough to say, "This principle gets in the way of something I want to do, so let's throw it out because I'm pretty sure the inconvenience I'm experiencing is worse than the consequences of doing away with this principle." You need to have a theory of how you will prevent the harms the principle protects us from once you tear it down. That theory can be "the harms are imaginary" so it doesn't matter. Like, if you get rid of all the measures that defend us from hexes placed by evil witches, it's OK to say, "This is safe because evil witches aren't real and neither are hexes."

But you'd better be sure! After all, some preventative measures work so well that no living person has experienced the harms they guard us against. It's easy to mistake these for imaginary or exaggerated. Think of the antivaxers who are ideologically committed to a world in which human beings do not have a shared destiny, meaning that no one has a moral claim over the choices you make. Motivated reasoning lets those people rationalize their way into imagining that measles – a deadly and ferociously contagious disease that was a scourge for millennia until we all but extinguished it – was no big deal:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Measles:_A_Dangerous_Illness

There's nothing wrong with asking whether longstanding health measures need to be carried on, or whether they can be sunset. But antivaxers' sloppy, reckless reasoning about contagious disease is inexcusable. They were warned, repeatedly, about the mass death and widespread lifelong disability that would follow from their pursuit of an ideological commitment to living as though their decisions have no effect on others. They pressed ahead anyway, inventing ever-more fanciful reasons why health is a purely private matter, and why "public health" was either a myth or a Communist conspiracy:

https://www.conspirituality.net/episodes/brief-vinay-prasad-pick-me-campaign

When RFK Jr kills your kids with measles or permanently disables them with polio, he doesn't get to say "I was just inquiring as to the efficacy of a longstanding measure, as is right and proper." He was told why the vaccine fence was there, and he came up with objectively very stupid reasons why that didn't matter, and then he killed your kids. He was warned.

Fuck that guy.

Or take Bill Clinton. From 1933 until 1999, American banks were regulated under the Glass-Steagall Act, which "structurally separated" them. Under structural separation, a "retail bank" – the bank that holds your savings and mortgage and provides you with a checkbook – could not be "investment bank." That meant it couldn't own or invest in businesses that competed with the businesses its depositors and borrowers ran. It couldn't get into other lines of business, either, like insurance underwriting.

Glass-Steagall was a fence that stood between retail banks and the casino economy. It was there for a fucking great reason: the failure to structurally separate banks allowed them to act like casinos, inflating a giant market bubble that popped on Black Friday in October 1929, kicking off the Great Depression. Congress built the structural separation fence to keep banks from doing it again.

In the 1990s, Bill Clinton agitated for getting rid of Glass-Steagall. He argued that new economic controls would allow the government to prevent another giant bubble and crash. This time, the banks would behave themselves. After all, hadn't they demonstrated their prudence for seven decades?

In fact, they hadn't. Every time banks figured out how to slip out of regulatory constraints they inflated another huge bubble, leading to another massive crash that made the rich obscenely richer and destroyed ordinary savers' lives. Clinton took office just as one of these finance-sector bombs – the S&L Crisis – was detonating. Clinton had no basis – apart from wishful thinking – to believe that deregulating banks would lead to anything but another gigantic crash.

But Clinton let his self interest – in presiding over a sugar-high economic expansion driven by deregulation – overrule his prudence (about the crash that would follow). Sure enough, in the last months of Clinton's presidency, the stock market imploded with the March 2000 dot-bomb. And because Congress learned nothing from the dot-com crash and declined to restore the Glass-Steagall fence, the crash led to another bubble, this time in subprime mortgages, and then, inevitably, we suffered the Great Financial Crisis.

Look: there's no virtue in having bank regulations for the sake of having them. It is conceptually possible for bank regulations to be useless or even harmful. There's nothing wrong with investigating whether the 70-year old Glass-Steagall Act was still needed in 1999. But Clinton was provided with a mountain of evidence about why Glass-Steagall was the only thing standing between Americans and economic chaos, including the evidence of the S&L Crisis, which was still underway when he took office, and he ignored all of them. If you lost everything – your home, your savings, your pension – in the dot-bomb or the Great Financial Crisis, Bill Clinton is to blame. He was warned. he ignored the warnings.

Fuck that guy.

No, seriously, fuck Bill Clinton. Deregulating banks wasn't Clinton's only passion. He also wanted to ban working cryptography. The cornerstone of Clinton's tech policy was the "Clipper Chip," a backdoored encryption chip that, by law, every technology was supposed to use. If Clipper had gone into effect, then cops, spooks, and anyone who could suborn, bribe, or trick a cop or a spook could break into any computer, server, mobile device, or embedded system in America.

When Clinton was told – over and over, in small, easy-to-understand words – that there was no way to make a security system that only worked when "bad guys" tried to break into it, but collapsed immediately if a "good guy" wanted to bypass it. We explained to him – oh, how we explained to him! – that working encryption would be all that stood between your pacemaker's firmware and a malicious update that killed you where you stood; all that stood between your antilock brakes' firmware and a malicious update that sent you careening off a cliff; all that stood between businesses and corporate espionage, all that stood between America and foreign state adversaries wanting to learn its secrets.

In response, Clinton said the same thing that all of his successors in the Crypto Wars have said: NERD HARDER! Just figure it out. Cops need to look at bad guys' phones, so you need to figure out how to make encryption that keeps teenagers safe from sextortionists, but melts away the second a cop tries to unlock a suspect's phone. Take Malcolm Turnbull, the former Australian Prime Minister. When he was told that the laws of mathematics dictated that it was impossible to build selectively effective encryption of the sort he was demanding, he replied, "The laws of mathematics are very commendable but the only law that applies in Australia is the law of Australia":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/07/australian-pm-calls-end-end-encryption-ban-says-laws-mathematics-dont-apply-down

Fuck that guy. Fuck Bill Clinton. Fuck a succession of UK Prime Ministers who have repeatedly attempted to ban working encryption. Fuck 'em all. The stakes here are obscenely high. They have been warned, and all they say in response is "NERD HARDER!"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/05/theyre-still-trying-to-ban-cryptography/

Now, of course, "crypto means cryptography," but the other crypto – cryptocurrency – deserves a look-in here. Cryptocurrency proponents advocate for a system of deregulated money creation, AKA "wildcat currencies." They say, variously, that central banks are no longer needed; or that we never needed central banks to regulate the money supply. Let's take away that fence. Why not? It's not fit for purpose today, and maybe it never was.

Why do we have central banks? The Fed – which is far from a perfect institution and could use substantial reform or even replacement – was created because the age of wildcat currencies was a nightmare. Wildcat currencies created wild economic swings, massive booms and even bigger busts. Wildcat currencies are the reason that abandoned haunted mansions feature so heavily in the American imagination: American towns and cities were dotted with giant mansions built by financiers who'd grown rich as bubbles expanded, then lost it all after the crash.

Prudent management of the money supply didn't end those booms and busts, but it substantially dampened them, ending the so-called "business cycle" that once terrorized Americans, destroying their towns and livelihoods and wiping out their savings.

It shouldn't surprise us that a new wildcat money sector, flogging "decentralized" cryptocurrencies (that they are nevertheless weirdly anxious to swap for your gross, boring old "fiat" money) has created a series of massive booms and busts, with insiders getting richer and richer, and retail investors losing everything.

If there was ever any doubt about whether wildcat currencies could be made safe by putting them on a blockchain, it is gone. Wildcat currencies are as dangerous today as they were in the 18th and 19th century – only moreso, since this new bad paper relies on the endless consumption of whole rainforests' worth of carbon, endangering not just our economy, but also the habitability of the planet Earth.

And nevertheless, the Trump administration is promising a new crypto golden age (or, ahem, a Gilded Age). And there are plenty of Democrats who continue to throw in with the rotten, corrupt crypto industry, which flushed billions into the 2024 election to bring Trump to office. The result is absolutely going to be more massive bubbles and life-destroying implosions. Fuck those guys. They were warned, and they did it anyway.

Speaking of the climate emergency: greetings from smoky Los Angeles! My city's on fire. This was not an unforeseeable disaster. Malibu is the most on-fire place in the world:

https://longreads.com/2018/12/04/the-case-for-letting-malibu-burn/

Since 1919, the region has been managed on the basis of "total fire suppression." This policy continued long after science showed that this creates "fire debt" in the form of accumulated fuel. The longer you go between fires, the hotter and more destructive those fires become, and the relationship is nonlinear. A 50-year fire isn't 250% more intense than a 20-year fire: it's 50,000% more intense.

Despite this, California has invested peanuts in regular controlled burns, which has created biennial uncontrolled burns – wildfires that cost thousands of times more than any controlled burn.

Speaking of underinvestment: PG&E has spent decades extracting dividends for its investors and bonuses for its execs, while engaging in near-total neglect of maintenance of its high-voltage transmission lines. Even with normal winds, these lines routinely fall down and start blazes.

But we don't have normal winds. The climate emergency has been steadily worsening for decades. LA is just the latest place to be on fire, or under water, or under ice, or baking in wet bulb temperatures. Last week in southern California, we were warned to expect gusts of 120mph.

They were warned. #ExxonKnew: in the early 1970s, Exxon's own scientists warned them that fossil fuel consumption would kick off climate change so drastic that it would endanger human civilzation. Exxon responded by burying the reports and investing in climate denial:

https://exxonknew.org/

They were warned! Warned about fire debt. Warned about transmission lines. Warned about climate change. And specific, named people, who individually had the power to heed these warnings and stave off disaster, ignored the warnings. They didn't make honest mistakes, either: they ignored the warnings because doing so made them extraordinarily, disgustingly rich. They used this money to create dynastic fortunes, and have created entire lineages of ultra-wealthy princelings in $900,000 watches who owe it all to our suffering and impending dooml

Fuck those guys. Fuck 'em all.

We've had so many missed opportunities, chances to make good policy or at least not make bad policy. The enshitternet didn't happen on its own. It was the foreseeable result of choices – again, choices made by named individuals who became very wealthy by ignoring the warnings all around them.

Let's go back to Bill Clinton, because more than anyone else, Clinton presided over some terrible technology regulations. In 1998, Clinton signed the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, a bill championed by Barney Frank (fuck that guy, too). Under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, it's a felony, punishable by a five year prison sentence, and a $500,000 fine, to tamper with a "digital lock."

That means that if HP uses a digital lock to prevent you from using third-party ink, it's a literal crime to bypass that lock. Which is why HP ink now costs $10,000/gallon, and why you print your shopping lists with colored water that costs more, ounce for ounce, than the sperm of a Kentucky Derby winner:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/30/life-finds-a-way/#ink-stained-wretches

Clinton was warned that DMCA 1201 would soon metastasize into every kind of device – not just the games consoles and DVD players where it was first used, but medical implants, tractors, cars, home appliances – anything you could put a microchip into (Jay Freeman calls this "felony contempt of business-model"):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

He ignored those warnings and signed the DMCA anyway (fuck that guy). Then, under Bush (fuck that guy), the US Trade Representative went all around the world demanding that America's trading partners adopt versions of this law (fuck that guy). In 2001, the European Parliament capitulated, enacting the EU Copyright Directive, whose Article 6 is a copy-paste of DMCA 1201 (fuck all those people).

Fast forward 20 years, and boy is there a lot of shit with microchips that can be boobytrapped with rent-extracting logic bombs that are illegal to research, describe, or disable.

Like choo-choo trains.

Last year, the Polish hacking group Dragon Sector was contacted by a public sector train company whose Newag trains kept going out of service. The operator suspected that Newag had boobytrapped the trains to punish the train company for getting its maintenance from a third-party contractor. When Dragon Sector investigated, they discovered that Newag had indeed riddled the trains' firmware with boobytraps. Trains that were taken to locations known to have third-party maintenance workshops were immediately bricked (hilariously, this bomb would detonate if trains just passed through stations near to these workshops, which is why another train company had to remove all the GPSes from its trains – they kept slamming to a halt when they approached a station near a third-party workshop). But Newag's logic bombs would brick trains for all kinds of reasons – merely keeping a train stationary for too many days would result in its being bricked. Installing a third-party component in a locomotive would also trigger a bomb, bricking the train.

In their talk at last year's Chaos Communications Congress, the Dragon Sector folks describe how they have been legally terrorized by Newag, which has repeatedly sued them for violating its "intellectual property" by revealing its sleazy, corrupt business practices. They also note that Newag continues to sell lots of trains in Poland, despite the widespread knowledge of its dirty business model, because public train operators are bound by procurement rules, and as long as Newag is the cheapest bidder, they get the contract:

https://media.ccc.de/v/38c3-we-ve-not-been-trained-for-this-life-after-the-newag-drm-disclosure

The laws that let Newag make millions off a nakedly corrupt enterprise – and put the individuals who blew the whistle on it at risk of losing everything – were passed by Members of the European Parliament who were warned that this would happen, and they ignored those warnings, and now it's happening. Fuck those people, every one of 'em.

It's not just European parliamentarians who ignored warnings and did the bidding of the US Trade Representative, enacting laws that banned tampering with digital locks. In 2010, two Canadian Conservative Party ministers in the Stephen Harper government brought forward similar legislation. These ministers, Tony Clement (now a disgraced sex-pest and PPE grifter) and James Moore (today, a sleazeball white-shoe corporate lawyer), held a consultation on this proposal.

6, 138 people wrote in to say, "Don't do this, it will be hugely destructive." 54 respondents wrote in support of it. Clement and Moore threw out the 6,138 opposing comments. Moore explained why: these were the "babyish" responses of "radical extremists." The law passed in 2012.

Last year, the Canadian Parliament passed bills guaranteeing Canadians the Right to Repair and the right to interoperability. But Canadians can't act on either of these laws, because they would have to tamper with a digital lock to do so, and that's illegal, thanks to Tony Clement and James Moore. Who were warned. And who ignored those warnings. Fuck those guys:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/15/radical-extremists/#sex-pest

Back in the 1990s, Bill Clinton had a ton of proposals for regulating the internet, but nowhere among those proposals will you find a consumer privacy law. The last time an American president signed a consumer privacy law was 1988, when Reagan signed the Video Privacy Protection Act and ensured that Americans would never have to worry that video-store clerks where telling the newspapers what VHS cassettes they took home.

In the years since, Congress has enacted exactly zero consumer privacy laws. None. This has allowed the out-of-control, unregulated data broker sector to metastasize into a cancer on the American people. This is an industry that fuels stalkers, discriminatory financial and hiring algorithms, and an ad-tech sector that lets advertisers target categories like "teenagers with depression," "seniors with dementia" and "armed service personnel with gambling addictions."

When the people cry out for privacy protections, Congress – and the surveillance industry shills that fund them – say we don't need a privacy law. The market will solve this problem. People are selling their privacy willingly, and it would be an "undue interference in the market" if we took away your "freedom to contract" by barring companies from spying on you after you clicked the "I agree" button.

These people have been repeatedly warned about the severe dangers to the American public – as workers, as citizens, as community members, and as consumers – from the national privacy free-for-all, and have done nothing. Fuck them, every one:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

Now, even a stopped clock is right twice a day, and not every one of Bill Clinton's internet policies was terrible. He had exactly one great policy, and, ironically, that's the one there's the most energy for dismantling. That policy is Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (a law that was otherwise such a dumpster fire that the courts struck it down). Chances are, you have been systematically misled about the history, use, and language of Section 230, which is wild, because it's exactly 26 words long and fits in a single tweet:

No provider or user of an interactive computer service shall be treated as the publisher or speaker of any information provided by another information content provider.

Section 230 was passed because when companies were held liable for their users' speech, they "solved" this problem by just blocking every controversial thing a user said. Without Section 230, there would be no Black Lives Matter, no #MeToo – no online spaces where the powerful were held to account. Meanwhile, rich and powerful people would continue to enjoy online platforms where they and their bootlickers could pump out the most grotesque nonsense imaginable, either because they owned those platforms (ahem, Twitter and Truth Social) or because rich and powerful people can afford the professional advice needed to navigate the content-moderation bureaucracies of large systems.

We know exactly what the internet looks like when platforms are civilly liable for their users' speech: it's an internet where marginalized and powerless people are silenced, and where the people who've got a boot on their throats are the only voices you can hear:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

The evidence for this isn't limited to the era of AOL and Prodigy. In 2018, Trump signed SESTA/FOSTA, a law that held platforms liable for "sex trafficking." Advocates for this law – like Ashton Kutcher, who campaigns against sexual assault unless it involves one of his friends, in which case he petitions the judge for leniency – were warned that it would be used to shut down all consensual sex work online, making sex workers's lives much more dangerous. This warnings were immediately borne out, and they have been repeatedly borne out every month since. Killing CDA 230 for sex work brought back pimping, exposed sex workers to grave threats to their personal safety, and made them much poorer:

https://decriminalizesex.work/advocacy/sesta-fosta/what-is-sesta-fosta/

It also pushed sex trafficking and other nonconsensual sex into privateforums that are much harder for law enforcement to monitor and intervene in, making it that much harder to catch sex traffickers:

https://cdt.org/insights/its-all-downsides-hybrid-fosta-sesta-hinders-law-enforcement-hurts-victims-and-speakers/

This is exactly what SESTA/FOSTA's advocates were warned of. They were warned. They did it anyway. Fuck those people.

Maybe you have a theory about how platforms can be held civilly liable for their users' speech without harming marginalized people in exactly the way that SESTA/FOSTA, it had better amount to more than "platforms are evil monopolists and CDA 230 makes their lives easier." Yes, they're evil monopolists. Yes, 230 makes their lives easier. But without 230, small forums – private message boards, Mastodon servers, Bluesky, etc – couldn't possibly operate.

There's a reason Mark Zuckerberg wants to kill CDA 230, and it's not because he wants to send Facebook to the digital graveyard. Zuck knows that FB can operate in a post-230 world by automating the deletion of all controversial speech, and he knows that small services that might "disrupt" Facebook's hegemony would be immediately extinguished by eliminating 230:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/zuckerberg-calls-changes-techs-section-230-protections-rcna486

It's depressing to see so many comrades in the fight against Big Tech getting suckered into carrying water for Zuck, demanding the eradication of CDA 230. Please, I beg you: look at the evidence for what happens when you remove that fence. Heed the warnings. Don't be like Bill Clinton, or California fire suppression officials, or James Moore and Tony Clement, or the European Parliament, or the US Trade Rep, or cryptocurrency freaks, or Malcolm Turnbull.

Or Ashton fucking Kutcher.

Because, you know, fuck those guys.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/13/wanting-it-badly/#is-not-enough

[yoru-exe]

PHAINON ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ . call my name

as overly formal and unnecessary as it sounds, the amphoreus' hero has always been lord phainon to you. while it comes with great honour and respect, much like how it applies to your master; lady aglaea, it feels like there's a barrier between you and him, and he doesn't really like that, considering that he'd like to know you better, closer.

so naturally, he revels in making you drop the honourary title, and the best way to make you do so (based on his countless personal experiments of trial-and-error, which he very much enjoyed) is to catch you off guard. shock you enough to make you forget all about the formality, enough to make you see him not as just amphoreus' hero, but as phainon himself.

one of the times that happened was when you found a lost little girl in the wood. so you asked around the village nearby if she's familiar. you were starting to get some leads when you stumbled upon an elderly man who commented, "my, what lovely family you three look".

"no, we're not-".

"well, thank you so much, good sir. unfortunately, they're not family members. we're actually looking for this child's parents. although i'd like to note that i do look forward to starting a family with this woman".

"phainon!".

of course, that's just one method of making you fall into his plan. there's trill in guessing how you'll react. the blush that never fail to paint your face rosy red always manage to make him fall deeper for you. but nothing made him completely weak than you calling his name consciously out of your own choice.

not even mydei's hardest punch to his gut could do as much damage as you do in this situation.

he was looking at the moon one night all alone when you appeared beside him. "someone seems busy with his thought. would he be so generous to share?", a teasing tone laced your words, making him chuckled. you always seem to know how to calm his nerve when it's going wild.

"just.. thinking about the battle to come. do you think we'll make it this time?". from the hill you're standing on, the ruins around the perimeter glowed under the moonlight. the destruction they faced was unmistakable. from the way he sympathetically shifted his gaze upon them, you guessed that perhaps it's from his previous battle, one that you didn't embark together with, one that he failed.

without warning, you took his hand in yours, caressing circles on the scars on it, a gentle smile gracing your lips. "of course we will, because you have me by your side", you announced pridefully, so full of confidence that it felt contagious on him. "and you by mine, phainon".

you voice was so low, as if a whisper of a mother soothing her crying child, or a girl confessing to her lover of her affection. but he heard you loud and clear.

although, he felt like he needed you to repeat that again because his system was in a mess from you saying his name that he didn't get to savour it to its fullest.

"no, that only come once".

safe to say that he spent the rest of the night begging that you call his name like you just did. but where's the fun in a challenge if you just give him what he wants?

⊹₊ author's note ₊⊹

this is kinda silly, but someone implied that phainon isn't as innocent as what we originally thought he would be did something to my brain chemistry. and you know what? good for him. this man needs some fun before he d***

[thewertsearch]

UU: i know yoU coUld never fUlly appreciate what this actUally meant, bUt i took mUch care to sync Up these conversations with yoU on the same day that i begin playing as well. UU: that way, we can joUrney throUgh oUr sessions together and compare notes! :u

That might not mean much to Jane, but I remember how hard it was for Karkat to stay linear with John. UU's lucky they're not using Trollian, is all I'm saying.

GG: I guess I should just start believing all of this now, huh? Rather than learning it to be true later and feeling the fool for all my curmudgeonly skepticism?

Well, I don't know. You kind of have a point, actually.

Like - yeah, John and co. certainly took Sburb's mechanics in stride. None of them were particularly surprised when their new video game started to affect the real world - probably because they've been dealing with Scott Pilgrim video game mechanics for their entire lives.

This is normal to them, and it should be normal for Jane, too.

But, when you think about it, it's not really Sburb's mechanics that Jane is skeptical about. She's not doubting the existence of, say, alchemy - it's the big picture stuff, like time travel, alternate dimensions, and meeting her friends in the Medium that she finds hard to believe. To her, that's a completely different kind of supernatural to her hammerspace inventory. The former isn't even really supernatural, to her - it's just life.

She might live in a video game world, but she's never been shown a time machine before. Why would she believe in it?

GG: So what do I know! Consarn it, maybe you are an alien girl from Uranus, and together we are about to play a game which determines the fate of existence. Sign me up! UU: oh, hee hee! bUt i never claimed to be from that planet, which is only in the far reaches of yoUr solar system. UU: in fact i am from mUch farther away. a different Universe altogether.

Well, she’s at least not in another Earth session, then. Damn it, I was holding out hope that she was FedoraFreak's server player.

Also, using your handle to falsely imply you're from Uranus, while not outright stating it, is a 'not technically lying' maneuver that would make Doc Scratch proud. Just saying.

UU: remember what i said aboUt the need for patience. UU: patience with yoUr friends. UU: patience for yoUr growth as a hero of life.

Well, I guess that confirms it - we're getting a different set of Aspects, this time around.

Also, our party finally has a healer. Thank fuck.

Oh hello, poppop. His friendly face is there to greet you every time you open your chest.

Apparently his goofy lil' wave is a universal constant.

[wildevenusian]

no disrespect to prev comment but i’m gonna get on my soapbox here briefly.

ahem endless consumption of useless trinkets isn’t going to make your life more bearable.

we exist under a horrific system that is actively trying to kill us all and the planet for the benefit of the ultra rich so they can get even richer, we all know this by now (and if you don’t, hi nice to meet you, we live in hell).

so if anything, going out of your way to consume more of what you don’t truly need just to fill the void inside is actively enabling the system we exist under to produce more products that are toxic to the environment (and if ur shopping from Wish/Temu/Aliexpress/even Amazon the products themselves are also sometimes literally toxic to humans because of the lack of regulation. seriously look into how much of this stuff has toxic levels of radiation/ lead/etc it’s fucking crazy).

like don’t get me wrong, i agree that you shouldn’t withhold a few little pleasures from your life (like a coffee or something) in the name of sensible economics or to afford a house or whatever. that’s not gonna happen these days. so if you have the means i don’t believe in restricting yourself of a treat.

however, ignoring that there’s a tangible negative impact to our consumption (here i mean specifically USAmerican consumption since that’s the perspective i’m speaking from, but all first world post-industrialized high-income colonizing nations feel free to include yourself here as well because you’re a part of this too) is a huge part of how we got here in the first place.

so the next time you have the urge to buy something just because life sucks and you want to feel a positive emotion, just stop and think for a moment. try to feel that feeling you’re trying to cover up with consuming. barring that, just take a second to notice that you’re actively trying to cover up an emotion you don’t want to feel. and if after all that you still want to buy something, just like. sigh. try to make it as sustainable as you can.

buy from second hand shops, or look into local buy nothing groups. have a clothing swap with your friends and learn to mend clothing together to make it new. or even just walk into an actual physical store to buy your little useless trinket instead of ordering it online.

i’m not saying anything groundbreaking here, but i’m asking you to please think about how you can reduce the harm of your consumption in any way you can.

not gonna lie stoping the cycle of overconsumption is hard, i know because i’ve been there. that being said, it’s important to do hard things when what’s at stake is literally continuing to support life on earth for all living creatures, and we have to start somewhere. because capitalism has made life so wildly unsustainable and we cannot keep burying our heads in the sand acting like it isn’t.

[bodybaggage]

The Dan-Tastic Disaster

When the JL is stuck on babysitting duty until Danny shows up

———

It started like any other Justice League meeting, with Batman brooding in the corner, Superman standing confidently at the head of the table, and Wonder Woman calmly preparing for the mission briefing. What none of them expected was to be dealing with a de-aged, ghostly child with the potential to end worlds.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Superman asked, glancing down at the toddler perched on the conference table, currently gnawing on a metal batarang like it was a teething ring.

"Safe?" Batman muttered, rubbing his temples. "No. Manageable? Hopefully."

Dan Phantom—or what was left of him in his current toddler form—looked innocent enough at first glance. Bright green eyes, tiny fists gripping onto Batman’s cape like a security blanket, a cute little tuft of white hair curling above his head. But the Justice League had been briefed on his true nature. He was Danny Phantom’s evil future self, de-aged through some cosmic mishap. And now, thanks to fate or terrible luck, they were babysitting.

"Up! Up!" Dan suddenly demanded, lifting his tiny hands towards Superman.

Superman, always the gentle giant, smiled softly. “Okay, little guy. Let’s—OW!”

The moment Superman picked him up, Dan burst into green flames, scorching Superman's red cape and singeing his hair. The Kryptonian tried to gently pat out the fire, but Dan just giggled mischievously and floated upwards, still burning, as Superman’s cape disintegrated into ashes.

“I’ll just… get another cape,” Superman mumbled, resigned.

Wonder Woman knelt down, observing the floating toddler with the curiosity of someone about to embark on an epic quest. “He reminds me of the young warriors of Themyscira,” she said, a glimmer of fondness in her eyes. “Strong, brave, and full of fire.” Literally.

She offered him a soft smile. “Little one, let me tell you a tale from my youth, of the Amazons and their triumph over the beasts of the land.”

Dan floated down toward her, his eyes glowing with interest for all of three seconds before he grabbed her lasso and swung from it like a child on a tire swing. "Wheeeeee!"

Wonder Woman blinked. “He is… very enthusiastic.”

Meanwhile, Batman was in the corner, already furiously texting Danny Phantom on his encrypted Bat-phone. URGENT: Toddler version of evil future self setting things on fire. Please advise.

Danny’s response pinged back almost immediately: Good luck! Don’t let him touch anything sharp or made of explosives. Be there soon-ish.

Batman scowled at the "soon-ish." The last thing they needed was “soon-ish.” They needed now.

"Uh, Bruce," Superman said, nervously eyeing Dan, who had now decided that the perfect place to hide was inside a control panel. "He’s touching the lasers."

Batman swiveled around just in time to see the Watchtower's interior light up in bright neon green flashes. Every screen blinked with static, and the alarm system activated. Dan was just... pressing buttons. Randomly. While humming a tune and still floating lazily around, now wearing Wonder Woman’s tiara on his head.

"Dan," Batman said in the tone reserved for criminals, children, and now, apparently, demonic ghost toddlers. "Get out of there."

Dan paused, looking Batman straight in the eye, and gave the kind of evil grin only a future supervillain could pull off. He slammed his tiny fist into the panel, causing every door in the Watchtower to open and close in a chaotic frenzy. Somewhere, the coffee machine exploded.

“Great Hera,” Wonder Woman murmured, eyeing the scene with wide-eyed awe. “He is... relentless.”

“He’s a menace,” Batman grumbled, already trying to recalibrate the systems on his wrist computer.

Superman, ever the optimist, decided to take a different approach. "Dan, how about we go play somewhere that isn’t full of very important and dangerous equipment?"

Dan looked at Superman for a long moment, then reached out and ignited Superman’s other cape. Superman sighed. “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

Before Batman could further escalate into his “silent looming” tactic (which, thus far, had only led to Dan giggling and calling him “funny bat man”), Danny Phantom finally phased through the wall. He was panting, his hair tousled, clearly in a hurry.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Danny said, hands up. “I had to deal with this whole thing with the Ghost Zone and—oh, wow. He’s already set things on fire? That was fast.”

Batman gave him a look. The kind that promised revenge if Danny didn’t take care of this immediately.

“Oh yeah, he’s... a handful,” Danny said, scooping up the toddler, who immediately stopped causing chaos and instead tugged at Danny’s hoodie. “I told Clockwork it was a bad idea to leave him with you guys, but you know how he is.”

Batman raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me Clockwork is responsible for this?”

“Yeah,” Danny replied, casually flipping Dan upside down, which somehow made the toddler laugh instead of scream. “Said it would ‘build character’ or something. No idea what that means.”

Wonder Woman glanced between the now-quiet Dan and the previously-chaotic Watchtower, eyebrow raised. “And what, exactly, are we meant to learn from this?”

Danny shrugged, adjusting Dan like a backpack. “Patience? Endurance? Definitely not fire safety, though.”

Superman, cape now a pile of ash on the floor, simply chuckled. “Well, it was... eventful.”

“I’m just glad the Watchtower is still standing,” Batman muttered, already mentally drafting the report about the damage.

Danny grinned, patting Batman on the back. “You did great! You didn’t even let him explode anything. That’s a win in my book.”

As Danny started phasing through the walls with a happy toddler on his back, Wonder Woman watched them go, a soft smile on her face. “He truly has a way with him, doesn’t he?”

Superman nodded, glancing down at the remains of his cape. “Yeah. But next time, he’s babysitting.”

Batman, deadpan as ever, just sighed. "There won't be a next time."

[wlwsoccerfics]

Big Sister Energy(Alexia PutellasXMeadReader)

Warnings: Google translate used.

Summary: You are 18 years old, away from England and just got dumped by your girlfriend. Alexia is there for you and you have a talk.

You didn't do very well and everyone could see it. Especially Alexia. You still were playing good football, but it was obvious that right now your heart wasn't in it. And you looked like you hadn't slept in weeks. Which was actually quite true. Your girlfriend, well now ex has dumped you for one of her ex boyfriends and went back to him around two weeks ago.

"pequeña? ¿qué ocurre?" Alexia asked you as you both walked to your seperate cars after practice. You frown a little but decided to play it cool. "I am fine, Alexia!" You let her know. Even though it was obvious that you weren't.

"y/n, i know this isn't true! You look like death!" She informed you.

You roll your eyes a little but also felt stressed about it.

"Mi novia rompió conmigo(my girlfriend broke up with me)!" You whispered out. She frowned softly.

"what happened exactly?" The blonde asked.

"Vanya went back to her ex boyfriend!" You sobbed out and now started crying again. Alexia quickly pulled you into a hug, frowning even more. She never really liked your ex and now she was once again reminded why. Alexia was always protective of you. You joined the team almost a year ago. First you were living with Keira until you turned 18 and wanted to be on your own. Keira was your teammate, one of your fellow lionesses. She also was quite protective of you. Probably because Bethy your sister has asked her to to keep an eye on you. But you didn't know If that actually was true.

Anyways you hugged Alexia back who was holding you in her arms right now.

"Estoy aquí para ti." she whispered against your forehead. Palcing a soft kiss on it.

"you act alot like my older Sister Beth!"you told her, smiling slighlty through your tears. honestly you would never have thought that you would end up in Barcelona one day and play Professional football over there. Outside of your comfort zone. You practiced all your Life at Arsenal but never ended up playing for your Senior Team. Instead you were here now. Your sister missed you lots and you missed her as well. But you tried to avoid her because somehow she found out about the breakup And you didn't want to worry her with how awful you sounded. Your guess was that Keira told her. In fact alot of the Girls from the english national team tried to reach out. So did Viv your sister-in-law.

"well you are a bit like a Baby sister i want to protect!" Alexia admitted.

"i am not a baby but i for sure appreciate to have you as my 'sister away from home!'" you told her, smiling softly, wiping away the tears.

"you are still so young. You are just 18 years old. Can't help that i feel protective of you cause of that! Cause you are way too sweet sometimes. It's not a bad thing but Vanya didn't deserve someone as sweet and kind as you cause she is the devil." Alexia answered.

"thank you." You simply just replied. Breathing in and out to calm down as much as possible. Crying was quite exhausting.

"it's true. Now you come home with me and we get some food. Then you need sleep. And tomorrow morning you gonna call your loved ones!" Alexia told you. She didn't leave you much of a choice. Saying you can drive to practice together and your Car and stay in the parking lot. So you just got into her car.

You did ended up calling Beth the next morning and she told you that she was close to dropping everything to check on you personally. So good thing Alexia got you to open up. It was nice to know you had a support system at Home and here in Barcelona.

After a few days you actually started feeling human again. Thanks to everyone that cared about you.

[arkhamsbrat]

❦ — jason todd x civilian! reader

in which jason is totally not planning on stealing you away from your shitbag of a bf

part 1 ! part 2 ! part 3 !

you were drunk- barely able to walk, drunk. whatever music your boyfriend was playing made your head spin while you stumbled back from the bathroom. jason had left his spot from the couch to come help you back. “i can walk. i’m grown!” you mumbled. he chuckled quietly, patting your side as he hooked his arm under yours.

“yeah, i know y’are, sweetheart.” he hummed and sat on the couch, hand held out so you could collapse into him. it was on purpose. jason wanted to piss your boyfriend off- wanted him to try and lay a hand on you again.

“you good?” he whispered, looking over to your boyfriend who had been glaring at you for the past few minutes. you shrugged, snuggling closer to him. “he always ignores me at these, don’t pay him no mind.” you weren’t paying any attention to the man on the opposite side of the room. everyone else was far too preoccupied kissing your boyfriends ass, why’d he need you?

jason rested his chin on your hair. “he ignore you a lot, doesn’t he?” it was exhausting, everything was always about him. something needed to be about you for once. you turned up to jason with a small pout. “no more him. ‘m done with him, jayce.”

not the best idea to say that to jason. he smiled down at you like you just handed him a bag of gold.“what’dya mean by done with him?” what a shame that his smile made your stomach flutter and your cheeks flush. “i’m leaving him.”

it only came out as a whisper, but jason felt the world stop around him. this is what hes wanted to hear for the past few months. you were too drunk for him to press for details- no matter how badly he wanted to. he’d let it slide, maybe press further the next time you two met up. all he did was nod before both of you spent the rest of the night silently people watching.

you don’t know when, or how you even passed out, but your boyfriend shook you awake. “get your god damn friend out so we can go to bed.” your eyes were dry, lids heavy. “what?” he scoffed at you again. “get jackson out. i’m fucking tired.”

you smacked his hand off your shoulder and looked to see jason sleeping peacefully. it was rare that jason looked peaceful, let alone slept peacefully. there were so many times you went to the library together where you caught him dozing off between pages. the alcohol was still and your system and not allowing you to force a happy tone. “his names’ jason. he drank, jus’ let him sleep here.”

he glared at you. “i dont give a shit, get him out. this is my apartment.” both of your names were on the lease. you were the one who found the apartment. “our apartment, and you always have people sleep here. chris? maya? it’s every weekend.” you returned his glare. your boyfriend raised an eyebrow and took a step back.

“you wanna do this in front of him?” maybe you did, maybe it was smarter. a drunk witness was better than nothing... but you were exhausted. if he just left you on the couch you would’ve been fine.“i want to sleep. jus’ let him be, we can-” he snapped his fingers at you before moving to shake jason awake. your boyfriend opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out jason punched him, eyes snapping open.

“what the fuck!?” you stared on in shock, watching as jason stood up with a poorly hidden smirk. “shit, man i’m sorry! I’m not used to being woken up like that! you okay?” it was the fakest you’ve ever heard him speak.

your boyfriend held his nose and shook his head, glaring at you like you punched him. “don’t worry about it,” he muttered before leaning towards you to whisper, “i want him out.” ignoring his words, you pushed him towards the bathroom. “don’t get blood on the carpet, i want my security deposit back.”

as your boyfriend walked off, muttering god knows what under his breath, jason looked over to you smug as ever. you couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re awful, y’know that?” you whispered to him. jason shrugged and winked at you. “i don’t know what you’re talking about, it was an accident.”

[heyftinally]

Do not trust your brain to someone who didn't bother to use theirs.

Honestly, we just need to apply this quote to everyone moving forward. Teachers, doctors, therapists, employees - if you can not be bothered to put forth the bare minimum of work necessary to complete a task, I have no reason to trust you to be good at your job. You've already demonstrated that you're lazy, don't mind cutting corners and turning out shit if it means doing less work, and you have no care for the ethical or environmental deficits genAI is responsible for. That's not someone I trust, want to work with, or want making life changing decisions about me/my care.

Make supporting genAI the same as the people who say they went to shitty cult non-accredited universities that nobody hires from. If someone says they support genAI, and ESPECIALLY if they admit to using it for college assignments, treat it as if they just admitted to cheating, because they did. Using genAI for your homework should be shameful. It should be embarrassing to admit to.

And frankly, nobody has any excuse. Before anyone comes for me, I was homeschooled K-12 and entered college with roughly a 5th grade education. I was so remedial in math that I struggled with the remedial course I had to pass before I could even start taking math classes that counted towards my degree. I had never written an essay before, and my first several came back with embarrassingly poor grades and comments correcting very basic things. On top of that I had undiagnosed and untreated ADHD. I put the work in to build systems that worked for me, learn the skills I needed, and ended up not only getting my degree but graduating with honors. There is NO excuse. Either you put in the work to LEARN, or you drop the class. Simple as that. Skating through letting genAI do the work for you is like handing me a bag of month old McDonald's food and expecting me to be impressed with your cooking: I'm not, you didn't actually do anything, and the product you've handed me is disgusting and unethically made. This only difference is I'm assuming dmyou didn't steal the McDonald's.

ur future nurse is using chapgpt to glide thru school u better take care of urself

[woozinhos]

Angry sex with Gyu? +after care 🎀💕

Mingyu is pacing back and forth in the living room, his fists clenched at his sides. He's clearly upset about something, and the tension in the air is palpable. You stand by the door, watching him with a mixture of concern and frustration. You know he's been on edge lately, but you don't know why.

"Mingyu," you say cautiously, taking a step towards him. "What's going on?"

Mingyu stops pacing and turns to look at you, his eyes blazing with anger. "What's going on?" he repeats, his voice sharp. "You really have to ask me that?"

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to calm himself down, but failing miserably.

"You've been ignoring me for weeks," he says, his voice rising. "You're always busy with work, or hanging out with your friends. You don't even seem to care about me anymore."

You flinch at his words, feeling a pang of guilt. You hadn't realized how much your busy schedule had been affecting him.

"Mingyu, that's not true," you say, taking another step towards him. "I do care about you. I've just been really busy with work lately."

Mingyu scoffs, clearly not believing you. "Busy with work? Or just avoiding me?" he retorts.

You feel a surge of anger at his accusation. "How dare you say that," you say, your voice rising. "I have been working my ass off for the past few weeks. I'm trying to provide for us, and make a name for myself in my career."

Mingyu crosses his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched. "And what about me?" he asks, his voice cold. "What about my needs? Don't I matter at all?"

You're getting more and more frustrated with Mingyu's attitude. "Of course you matter," you say, your voice trembling with anger. "But I can't just drop everything and cater to your every whim. I have my own life too, you know."

Mingyu rolls his eyes, clearly not convinced. "Your life is more important than mine, is that it?" he sneers. "You're too busy for me, but not too busy to spend time with your friends?"

You feel like you're being attacked from all sides. "That's not fair," you say, your voice rising even more. "My friends are my support system. They help me through the stress of work and keep me sane. They're important to me, yes, but so are you."

Mingyu shakes his head, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "But I'm your boyfriend," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "You should be spending more time with me, not them."

You throw your hands up in frustration. "You're being ridiculous," you say, your anger boiling over. "I can't drop everything and cater to your every need. I have my own life and my own responsibilities. You need to start being more understanding and supportive of that."

Mingyu takes a step towards you, his eyes flashing with anger. "Supportive? I've been supportive this whole time," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've been supportive while you ignore me and prioritize your work over our relationship."

You feel a wave of anger and guilt wash over you. You know he's right, in a way. You have been prioritizing your work and your friends over him.

But you can't back down now. You stand your ground, refusing to let him win this argument.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been spending as much time with you as you'd like," you say, trying to keep your voice calm. "But that doesn't give you the right to be angry and accuse me of neglecting you."

Mingyu lets out a bitter laugh. "So now it's my fault that I'm upset?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want me to just sit back and watch as you prioritize everything else over me?"

He takes another step closer to you, his eyes blazing with anger. "You want me to just be understanding and supportive, even though you clearly don't care about me anymore?"

You feel a pang of guilt at his words, but you refuse to let him guilt-trip you.

"I do care about you," you say, your voice shaking slightly. "But I can't just drop everything and be at your beck and call. I have my own life, my own dreams and goals."

Mingyu scoffs again, his face twisted in anger. "Dreams and goals? Is that all I am to you? Some obstacle in your way?"

You're getting more and more frustrated with his accusations. "That's not what I meant and you know it," you say, your voice rising again. "You're my boyfriend, and I love you. But I can't just give up everything I've worked for to make you happy."

Mingyu's face twists into a sneer. "So what, you love me, but you don't care about me?" he says, his voice dripping with venom. "You love me, but you're willing to sacrifice our relationship for your career?"

You feel like you're being attacked from all sides, and you can't take it anymore.

"That's not fair," you say, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm trying my best to balance everything. I'm trying to make you happy, I'm trying to make a name for myself, and I'm trying to be a good girlfriend. But it's not easy, and I can't just drop everything and cater to your every whim."

Mingyu scoffs again, his anger still burning bright. "You think you're trying?" he says, his voice cold. "You think that working hard and ignoring me is the same as trying?"

You can't hold it in anymore. You break down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably. You feel like you're being torn apart, torn between your career and your relationship. Mingyu watches you cry, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he looks like he might comfort you, but then he turns away, his face set in a scowl.

"Fine," he says coldly. "If you can't make time for me, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

You look at Mingyu through tear-filled eyes, your heart aching at his words. You know that he's angry and hurt, but you can't believe that he's suggesting breaking up.

"You don't mean that," you whisper, your voice shaking. "You don't really want to end things, do you?"

Mingyu pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing against yours in a rough, desperate kiss. He holds you tightly, his hands gripping your arms almost painfully. You're caught off guard by his sudden aggression, but you can't deny the heat that courses through your body as he kisses you. Despite the anger and tension between you, there's still a spark of passion and desire that burns bright.

Mingyu deepens the kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he presses you harder against the wall. His hands move from your arms to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place. He's rough and demanding, taking what he wants without any regard for your feelings. But you can't deny the way your body responds to his touch, the way your heart races and your breath quickens.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kiss him back with equal fervor. Despite the anger and hurt between you, there's still an undeniable chemistry that draws you together. Mingyu breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire and anger.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice low and possessive. "Don't you forget that."

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You belong to me, and no one else. Understand?"

Mingyu's grip on your chin tightens, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "Say it," he demands, his voice rough. "Say that you belong to me."

He's angry, desperate, and frustrated, and he needs to hear you say the words. He needs to feel like he has some sort of control over the situation, over you. You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite the anger and tension between you, there's a part of you that still loves him, that still wants to please him.

"I belong to you," you whisper, your voice shaking slightly. "Only to you."

Mingyu's grip on your chin relaxes slightly, and a small flicker of satisfaction crosses his face. He leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

"Good," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Now let me show you just how much you belong to me."

Mingyu picks you up and slams you down onto the bed, pinning you beneath him. His body is heavy on top of yours, trapping you in place. He looks down at you with a possessive glint in his eyes, his hands roaming over your body with a sense of ownership.

"You're mine to do with as I please," he growls, his voice low and rough. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

Mingyu rips your clothes off with a rough, aggressive motion, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. He looks down at you with a predatory gaze, his eyes roaming over your naked body hungrily. He takes in every curve, every inch of skin, and his desire for you only seems to grow.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his hands tracing the lines of your body possessively. "All mine."

Mingyu is a mess of desperation and need as he looks down at you. His body is taut with tension, his muscles coiled like a spring. He's been holding back for so long, and now he's unleashing all of his pent-up frustration and desire on you.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I need you. I need to feel you, to claim you as mine."

Mingyu quickly strips off his own clothes, his movements rough and impatient. He doesn't care about the clothes, he only cares about getting as close to you as possible. As he sheds his clothing, his body is revealed to you, toned and muscular, and filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. As Mingyu stands before you, completely naked and on full display, your thoughts begin to race. You can't help but think about how attractive he is, how desirable he is, and how much you've been neglecting him lately.

You think about all the times you've been too busy with work or your friends to spend time with him, and a pang of guilt hits you hard. You realize that you've been taking him for granted, and that you've been putting your career above your relationship. But as Mingyu crawls on top of you, his body pressing against yours, all thoughts leave your mind. All you can focus on is the feeling of his skin against yours, the heat between you, and the raw desire that's consuming you both.

Mingyu's voice is low and commanding as he speaks, his eyes dark with lust. "Get on all fours," he growls, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can tell from his tone that this is going to be rough and hard, that he's going to take you completely and utterly. And you find yourself obeying his command without hesitation, getting onto your hands and knees for him.

Mingyu positions himself behind you, his hands roaming over your body possessively. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're mine to use, to claim. You're going to do exactly what I say, and you're going to take everything I give you."

His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you back against him as he presses his body against yours. You can feel his hardness pressing against you, and you know that he's about to take you with a ferocity that you've never experienced before.

Mingyu doesn't waste any time, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrusts into you with a forceful motion. He doesn't hold back, doesn't take it slow, he just takes you with a raw, primal need. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body adjusting to his size and the rough pace he's setting. He's using you, claiming you, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of the moment. Mingyu sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with a force that's almost bruising. He's relentless, taking you hard and fast, his grunts and moans filling the room.

You can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his rough touch and his relentless rhythm. You can feel yourself being pushed to the edge, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Mingyu is lost in the moment, too consumed by his own pleasure to speak. All that comes out of his mouth are grunts and moans, primal sounds of desire and need. He focuses solely on the physical sensations, on the feel of your body beneath him, on the way you tighten around him as he moves. He's single-minded in his pursuit of his own release, driven by a raw, primal need to claim you as his own.

Mingyu's hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting sending a jolt of pain and pleasure through your body. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back roughly as he continues to pound into you from behind. He's taking complete control, using you however he wants, and you can feel yourself surrendering to him completely. The combination of the pain from the slap and the pleasure from his rough touch is overwhelming, sending waves of sensation coursing through your body. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, your body trembling with need.

Mingyu senses your building pleasure, and he doubles his efforts, his thrusts becoming even more forceful and relentless. He's determined to push you over the edge, to make you come undone beneath him. You try to speak, but your words come out as a strangled moan. You can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences, as Mingyu continues to drive you to the brink of ecstasy.

He chuckles darkly, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulls your head back even further. "What's that?" he growls, his voice low and rough. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

Mingyu's grip on your hair loosens slightly, allowing you to speak more clearly. But he doesn't slow his pace, continuing to drive into you with a brutal intensity.

"Say it," he commands, his voice laced with a mixture of dominance and desire. "Tell me what you want."

You try to form the words, but it's hard to think straight with the way Mingyu is moving inside you. You manage to gasp out, "I...I want to come."

Mingyu's eyes darken at your words, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "You want to come?" he asks, his voice low and taunting. "You want to come for me?"

Mingyu's voice is firm and commanding as he says, "Then come for me. Come for me now."

He continues to move inside you, his thrusts becoming even more forceful and precise, hitting that spot inside you that sends shivers down your spine. He's relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, determined to make you come undone completely. You can feel the pressure building inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it's almost unbearable. Mingyu senses that you're close, and he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "Let go for me. Let me feel you come."

And with one final thrust, you shatter beneath him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you come hard around him. Mingyu groans as he feels you come around him, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through his own body. He continues to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm until you're trembling and spent. He slows his pace, his movements becoming more gentle as he lets you come down from your high. He runs a hand down your back, his touch gentle and soothing now.

"That's my good girl," he murmurs, his voice soft and possessive. "You're mine, and only mine."

Mingyu pulls out of you, his own body trembling with need as he takes himself in his hand. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he strokes himself to completion. It only takes a few moments before he's coming, spilling himself over your body with a low groan. He watches as his cum covers your skin, marking you as his own. Mingyu's chest is heaving as he catches his breath, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body as if he's memorizing every inch of you.

He reaches out a hand, running his fingers through the mess on your skin. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "Mine to mark and claim."

Mingyu pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he strokes your hair gently. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. I just...I've been feeling neglected lately, and I took it out on you."

You curl up against Mingyu, burying your face in his chest. "I'm sorry too," you whisper, feeling guilty for neglecting him. "I didn't realize how much I've been taking for granted. I promise I'll do better."

Mingyu holds you close, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion. "I know you will," he says, his voice gentle. "I just need you to understand that I have needs too. And sometimes I need you to be there for me, to take care of me."

Mingyu looks down at you, his eyes softening. "Would you like me to run a bath for us?" he asks, his voice gentle and considerate. "It might help us both relax and unwind."

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yes, that sounds nice," you reply, snuggling closer to him.

Mingyu presses a kiss to the top of your head before getting up and heading to the bathroom. You can hear the sound of running water as he prepares the bath, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you.

[missdynamighttt]

all i can think about is mean, pro hero! katsuki giving me backshots, man ☹️

you and katsuki were constantly at each other's throats, whether it was at hero work or at social gatherings. you couldn't stand each other, always arguing and sniping at one another.

but one night, after a few drinks at a work thing, some boring event. but something happened. maybe it was just all the tension building up and you simply didn't notice because... you somehow ended up at his place, stripped naked, and honestly? it was mind-blowing.

"hey!" you pant desperately, whimpering from how firmly he grips on your hips. your hands grip onto his couch tightly as your knees hit the soft material. "loosen up a little, my hips are bleeding!"

katsuki's been on edge all day, his mind filled with images of you, wearing your tight fitted clothes that hugged your curves just right, and those high heels that make your legs look endless.

it didn't make it any better when you approached him too, too drunk to even remember where you live, getting you safe in his place and pushing aside your differences for now. maybe a little too much.

"what'cha talking about? i'm not gripping you hard enough," katsuki grins almost devilishly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he continues to slam into you from behind, admiring the warm red marks on your hips.

the alcohol earlier long left his system and yours. all he's drunk on now is the feeling of you clenching down on him, whimpering from beneath him. his hands hold onto your love handles as he pulls you into him, your sweet moans echoing in his ears.

he leans in close, breathing heavily, his voice low and rough. "besides.. you like it when i ram into you like this, don't cha?"

"god, you're insufferable," you huff out, frustration and a hint of vulnerability in your moans. "you're such a... fucking asshole."

katsuki grins at your reaction, his fingers sinking deeper into your skin. its not enough for him, the pleasure hes giving you. seeing as you're still being a bitch. more can't hurt, right?

a hand reaches forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, a sick twisted feeling in him as he watches you struggle to take him.

"watch it, woman." he grunts, his balls twitching as it slams against your pillowy folds. it felt like heaven as he slams his cock hard into your warm cunny, after putting up with your ass for so, so long.

"you knew what you were doing when you decided to show up in that tight little dress. you've been waiting for this, haven't you?"

your yelp of surprise quickly turns into a gasp of pleasure as he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls it back firmly. you try pouting at him but can't keep the moan fully suppressed from your lips.

"not my fault you..." you manage to huff out, your voice filled with irritation and undeniable craving. "get turned on like a pathetic little teenager..."

katsuki laughs at your comment, his laughter quickly turning into a low, growl as he continues to thrust into you. he knows you're taunting him, trying to rile him up. and it's working.

"oh yeah? what makes you think i'm the pathetic one here, hah?" he pauses, landing a hard smack on your ass, earning another yelp from you before holding onto your hips again.

"you're the one on all fours here, getting fucked by me like a dog because you're too needy to wait til we got to bed..."

"don't act like you're any better," you retort, voice shaky with pleasure. "hypocrite.."

he scoffs, giving your hair another firm tug. "i can't help it if you looked that good, brat... besides, you love how much i want you. you love knowing how much i fuckin' need you. don't try to deny it..."

katsuki gives you another smack, this time a little harder. you whimper weakly, face flush with embarrassment as he continues his relentless assault on your cunt.

"you're... hah," you mewl out, voice trembling. "delusional... obsessed."

katsuki laughs again, the sound rough and low in his throat. "yeah, i am. its a real problem. can't help it if you're the only woman that gets me going like this. but you love it."

you muffle your moans by covering your mouth with your hand, your attempts to suppress your growing ecstasy proving very ineffective.

"you're just.. a horny jerk.." you gasp between breaths, the words coming out in a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "all you are to me is an...easy lay."

katsuki grunts, feeling your words hit him like a punch in the gut. he knows you're trying to push his buttons, to get him to snap.

and it was working.

he tugs roughly on your hair, his eyes narrowing as he glares down at you.

"oh, you think i'm just an easy lay, huh? someone you can use whenever you need to, but then you can toss me aside when you're done? is that what you think i am?"

you can barely speak as he goes rougher on you, your words broken up by moans and gasps of pleasure as his cock bullies your cervix.

your eyes are closed, head thrown back, and all you can get out is a desperate repetition of "no," and "sorry," as you mewled with pleasure and submission.

katsuki loosens his grip on your hair a bit, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you moan from underneath him.

he loves the way your voice trembles when you apologize, how you get all sweet and vulnerable when he's got you like this.

it's like you're a totally different person when you're not fighting and arguing, and he can't get enough of it.

"yeah? you sorry, huh?" he lands another hard smack on your ass again, another whimper rolling off of your tongue. "you sorry for callin' me names, sayin' things to piss me off?"

"yes, yeah, 'm...sorry... bakugo," you repeat through gasps of pleasure, almost pleading and surrendering to him. "...'m sorry..."

katsuki lets out a low growl, feeling something in his chest tighten at the sound of his name on your lips, your voice soft and vulnerable.

he's not used to seeing you be submissive, his grip on your hips tightening again. what he's used to is you calling him by his name, always in a tone full of sarcasm and irritation. but hearing his name from you, spoken like that...

it's driving him absolutely feral.

"tch. sorry enough to let me do whatever i want to you?" he mutters, his voice rougher than usual, massaging your doughy ass.

you nod, head bobbing up and down feverishly, your face hot from embarrassment. your chest rises and falls as you pant, feeling desperate and needy, the sounds of your rapid breaths echoing in the room.

"yeah? whatever i want?"

"shit— yeah.. anything.. just get on with it, dammit.."

katsuki's eyes narrow as he stares down at you, a sly grin spreading across his face. he knows exactly what he wants, and he can already tell it's going to catch you off guard.

"anything, huh? lean back a little f'me."

you bite down on your lip, contemplating what his next move might be before you gingerly get up on your knees, leaning back against him. you feels his chest pressed firmly against your back, the heat from his skin sinking through you.

katsuki grins, his hand letting go of your hair, moving down to your hips, using his grip to arch you back against him. his other hand grips your chin, angling your head back so he can look you in the eye. he stares down at you for a moment, his gaze intense, his face so close to yours.

then, without warning, he closes the distance between you, his lips crashing down on yours.

you gasp into the kiss, the sound muffled and lost in a tangle of messy, desperate need. you struggle to keep up with the kiss, overpowered by the relentless pace he sets.

as rough as he was, it felt vulnerable. strangely sweet. your lips part and a soft moan escapes, your body shivering and trembling against his.

his tongue pushes into your mouth as he kisses you deeply, desperately, his hands roaming over your body like he can't get enough of you.

he's wanted this for so long, but he never imagined it would feel this good.

katsuki's kisses become more feverish, his hands moving down to your hips, guiding you against him as his body presses against you from behind.

he breaks the kiss with a ragged breath, pushing you down against the couch, your face pressed into the cushions. his hand finds your scalp again, tugging on your hair again as he watches his cock sink deeper into your pussy.

"shit... was that what you were expecting?"

you cry out, the sound muffled by the couch. your body shudders and writhes, your hands clenching into tight fists as you shakes your head, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

"n-no.."

"figured.. but i'm willing to bet you liked it anyway."

you scoff, trying to feign annoyance or irritation, but there's no mistaking the flush on your cheeks or the way your body trembled when he kissed you.

you can't deny the intense and silent yearning when he kissed you, the way it makes you crave his rough touch, the temptation to melt into his arms all too strong despite your resistance.

"oh, you can deny it all you fuckin' want, but your body is tellin' me something different," katsuki grins, watching your body betray your feigned annoyance."act like you hate me, i don't give a shit. but i know you love this."

you pant out weakly, voice trembling and quavering as you whimper. "you're so... damn... mean."

katsuki chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening further as he grinds against you.

"that's right. i'm the worst, aren't i? and yet here you are, drippin' wet on my dick, all because of me."

his rough treatment of you, the way he makes your body shiver and quiver, his dirty, filthy words egging you on, has you trembling and embarrassed, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure.

every muscle in your body tensed, your back arching against him as a cry escaped you. you were close. so, so close.

"bakugo, please... i.. i'm... gonna...." you moan out as you push your ass onto his abdomen, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you take everything he gives you.

katsuki's body shivers as you moans out his name, the sound sending a wave of electricity through him.

"tch, already?" he clicks his tongue at you, deliberately slowing down the pace. you let out a strangled whine, your body shaking in his grip. "c'mon, you better not get off now... i'm not done with you yet."

"bakugooo... i'm close... please..." you mewled, pleading and needy. "please, i need... i need... " you can't even finish the sentence, your mind consumed with the single-minded desire for him. and his dick.

"begging now, huh? what happened to all that attitude? did i fuck it out of ya that fast?"

"you fuckin' wish... shit... i don't care anymore... just make me feel good, please..."

your body trembles against him, shaking with need and desperation. you're pleading, begging him to give you what you need. you can't even form a coherent thought anymore, your mind fogged up raw, unrelenting need. the need for him.

"you really need it that badly?" katsuki coos almost condescendingly, loving how much you're falling apart beneath him. "you're shaking like a fuckin' leaf. this tight little pussy clenching down on me... you're pathetic."

"fuck, fuck, i'm sorry," your gasps and moans have evolved into a desperate whimpers and needy whines, your body shaking as tears stream down your face. "just need you.. need you so much, please.."

the pleasure overwhelms you, feeling like you're going to come apart at the seams. your body quivers uncontrollably against him, like a puppet whose strings are held by his every touch.

katsuki's mind is swimming, overwhelmed by the sight of you falling to pieces beneath him. he looks down at you, taking in her quivering, desperate state. he's never seen you so vulnerable, so needy for him. it's a sight he didn't know he needed to see.

he gently pulls you up from the couch, using his hand on your wrist. he leans over to you, his lips fanning over your ear, his breath warm on your skin.

"look at me, princess. let me kiss you again."

he calls you princess, not just because of your bratty and entitled demeanor, but because deep down, he wants to treat you like one.

he wants to pamper and spoil you, wrap you in luxurious silk sheets and never let you want for anything.

but admitting that was not easy for him.

so he covers it up, telling himself it's just your attitude that earned the nickname, not any weird, hidden desires.

your face is flushed, feeling embarrassed by his simple request and the intimacy of the moment. but the pleasure he's given you leaves your body and mind too fogged to object. with a breathless gasp, you turn to face him.

katsuki's eyes rake over your face, taking in all of you. for a moment, he looks at you with an expression you've never seen on his face before.

it's softer, gentler than his usual cocky grin or mean glare.

he leans in close, his face a few inches away from yours, his eyes fixated on your lips. slowly, he closes the distance between them, his mouth capturing yours in a surprisingly tender kiss.

as your lips met, it's like the world melts away. it's a feeling so unfamiliar to both of you, but at the same time, it feels so unbelievably right.

you gasp as he pulls away, the sudden absence of his touch leaving you with a pang of emptiness, your body still trembling and buzzing with need.

you want more. but you can't ask him that.

his eyes are fixed on your face, watching your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as you meet his gaze. he can't help but chuckle, his usual cocky smirk back on his face.

"what, you gettin' all shy on me? after everything we've done tonight, this is what does it for you?"

"shut up..." you click your tongue, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it's quickly unraveling when he starts his relentless pace again.

your words are broken between gasps and moans as he goes harder, your body arching needily against him. "oh, fuck.. yes, bakugo... please, 'm.. gonna..."

"yeah? you gonna cum for me, princess?" he grins, landing another hard smack on your ass. "you gonna cum all over this dick?"

katsuki's breath hitches at your nod and whiny pleas, his body shuddering against you. he can feel how close you are, and he's not sure how much longer he can hold on himself.

"cum for me, princess. wanna feel you clenching down on me, c'mon..."

at his words, you completely shatter against him, your body trembling, vibrations sending down his body as you whimper and moan against him. your gummy walls clamp down on his cock, painting your insides a creamy white of your own.

katsuki watches you unravel from beneath him, clicking his tongue when he feels close. he pulls his cock out of you, stroking it feverishly.

"fuck," he groans, spurting his thick seed onto your back, digging his nails into your hips.

you huff, chest heaving with each breath as you look back at him, clear frustration and arousal on your face.

"why didn't you.. cum inside?" your voice is a breathless whisper, filled with both annoyance and a hint of pleading need.

his eyes widen a little, his face flush as he lets out a breathless chuckle. "did you want me to?"

he reaches down, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. it's such a contrast from the rough way he treated you earlier, like a completely different side of him.

you scoff and look away, trying to hide the truth behind a pout. even the act of looking away feels like a betrayal to what you truly wanted.

"hmph. why would i want something like that..."

katsuki grins at your defiant expression, loving the feign indifference. he reaches out, tilting your chin up so you're looking at him again.

"you can admit it, y'know. i won't make fun of you."

you pout, as if trying to act like the thought hadn't crossed your mind before. but your words betray your feigned disinterest, cheeks flushed.

"maybe i do. do it inside next time."

his smirk falters a little, showing that gentle look in his eyes again like he's surprised, but not displeased, at your implication.

"you want a next time, princess?"

"yeah... unless, this is a one-time thing?"

it's a question that betrays you, giving him a peak of what you realled wanted. you're trying to sound casual, but the subtle tremble of your voice nearly gives you away.

katsuki notices the tremor in your voice, the hint of vulnerability behind the cool facade. he can tell when you're putting up that tough exterior.

"you really think I'd be done with you after just one night?" he chuckles, his hand moving down to her hip, rubbing the hot red nails marks.

"oh," your cheeks flushed, embarassed by his words. but you could feel your heart beat hard against your chest as you realize what he meant. "so.. will there be a next time?"

katsuki grins down at you, his hand roaming over you body, still taking in the sight of her, flushed and breathless beneath him.

even if he didn't want to (but deep down, he did), he found it nearly impossible to deny you. it was as if you had some sort of power, a hold on him that made his usual attitude falter.

he was caught, wrapped around your finger, a puppet to your whims, unable to do anything but surrender to you.

and he wanted nothing else.

"oh, there will definitely be a next time, princess. i'm nowhere near done with you yet."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[mindmelter]

Alien Appetite: Snacking The Biker

I chuckled at the funny face this random biker made at the moment my alien buddy crawled inside his ear.

I just love the faces they make whenever they're having their brains taken over by Cosmo, my tiny alien bug. They always freeze on the spot with those dumb facial expressions. Usually, with their eyes bulging in shock and their tongues hanging out. Sometimes, their eyes roll back, and some even stare in opposite directions, but they always have their tongues hanging out. It's kinda Cosmo's signature by now.

I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo of this one's face. It might sound weird, but I like to collect photos of the faces they make during the takeover. I have hundreds of photos like this saved on my phone because I like to jerk off to them later.

I heard a squishy sound coming from inside his head, and suddenly, his left eye moved abruptly in an unnatural, opposite direction. I chuckled as I snapped another photo. It was such a drastic contrast from the loud arrogant brat that he was just a few minutes ago...

_____________________

I was walking outside in search of the perfect host for Cosmo, who is my tiny alien bug who needs sperm to survive. The problem is—Or blessing, in my opinion—he is too small to digest the cum by himself; he needs a host body to digest the cum for him. So every month, when he gets hungry, we go hunting for a poor, unfortunate soul to become his next digestive system for the month. And, of course, once he finds the host, I'm more than happy to feed him with my cum.

I was starting to lose any hope of finding a suitable host. Half the day had passed, and I still hadn't found a hot man. Of course, any guy would serve to become a host, but I was a gay dude! Of course, I only wanted to pick the hottest guys. But I'm not that selfish, there was also the fact that fit, healthy guys had the tastiest and strongest cum, and Cosmo was very picky about his food. That was Cosmo's own words, not mine.

I sighed in disappointment. I was usually very good at hunting. Just like last month, I found a rich, muscular black hunk at the gas station. We had so much fun with that host; I was already missing sucking on that huge black cock... maybe I should pay him a visit tonight after finding Cosmo a host. Before leaving his hosts empty, Cosmo would always program what was left of their brains to continue living their lives on autopilot even without free will... of course I also asked him to make them treat me like their Master.

The autopilot thing was all my idea. Before I met Cosmo, he would basically leave his hosts in a vegetative state. The police had no clue why men in the city were being found with parts of their brains missing and their own cum in their mouths.

The search for a host continued without success. Maybe it just was a bad day, I thought.

As I was walking on the sidewalk of a house, I suddenly heard the loud screech of tires and the roar of an engine. A young, handsome biker abruptly stopped his bike just inches from where I stood. A few more inches, and he would have run me over.

It was my fault, I suppose I was too lost in my thoughts to notice the bike approaching, but before I could apologize, he spoke.

"Hey! Watch where you're going dumbass! I don't want a fat human pancake right in front of my house!" He shouted, flipping me his two middle fingers in a cocky manner.

I just stood there in front of him with my mouth agape, completely amazed by this good looking young biker.

His curly brown hair peeked out from under his backward cap, and the white tank top he wore showcased his toned, tattooed arms. He exuded effortless charm and youthful energy, even when being an arrogant prick. Those were always my favorites.

He would be perfect, I thought.

So, in a quick move, I grabbed Cosmo out of my pocket and watched as he flapped his tiny wings and flew towards the biker, finding his way right into the arrogant brat's ear. Instinctively he slapped his ear as soon as he felt the intrusion, making his cap fall to the ground. But it was too late for him, because in seconds, his eyes bulged, and he stuck his tongue out.

A familiar sign that Cosmo had reached for the brain.

_____________________

Now, he is sitting on his bike, frozen and with the dumbest and hottest face expression ever.

I ran my hand over his curly hair and leaned closer to his face. His tongue was so big and inviting, just hanging out there, drooling. I just couldn't hold myself, I had to taste it. So I started to suck on that huge tongue with passion. He didn't respond to my sloppy kiss—of course, with an alien bug consuming parts of his free will, he was incapable of doing anything.

But little by little, I started to feel his tongue reacting to mine until I felt his hand on the back of my head, pushing me harder against his mouth, locking our mouths together. I felt his strong tongue dominating mine, making me melt into his muscular tattooed arms while I just let him explore my mouth, making sure he was pushing his tongue as deep into my mouth as he could. He then pulled away and smirked at me. "Master needs privacy for his feeding. Follow me to the garage." He said, with some traces of his arrogant persona still present in his voice.

"Is this your house?" I asked.

"It's my parents' house. They're inside so we're going to have to use the garage to feed my Master."

We walked into the garage, and once Inside, I closed the door, the garage was dark except for the light coming from the garage door's window.

I couldn't see anything, but when I turned around, I saw the biker lying on a car's trunk. He had unbuckled his belt already and was staring at me.

"Wanna make the honors?" He asked as he teasingly slid his hand inside his underwear.

I immediately dropped to my knees between his legs and pulled down his pants. His throbbing cock was bulging inside his boxers, and judging by the bulge, I knew he was well-hung.

Just another point in my favor, as Cosmo had a preference for well-endowed hosts to ensure proper feeding. I was very good at the game of spotting the most well-hung men, not even Cosmo knew how I was always right, call it my secret gay power.

With a single pull, his underwear joined his pants on the floor, and I was greeted with the sight of his 8 Inches hard cock, pulsating with life and leaking at the tip.

He put his finger on the leaking tip and sucked on his finger. He savored the taste for a moment and then made a *not bad* expression, "Master approves my cum," The young biker said. With that, his eyes rolled back, and he started to bend forward, his head becoming closer and closer to his hard dick. I heard some cracking and snapping sounds coming from him as he bent forward to the point he was unnaturally folded in half. His face was now just a few inches away from his cock. He opened his mouth, and his long tongue came out. His lips wrapped around the head and engulfed his shaft.

His eyes were still white as he took inch by inch and started to suck himself off with gusto.

The feeding was always my favorite part. I just continued on my knees, watching from closer this handsome cocky biker suck his own cock like he has done it a hundred times before.

In truth, he was just obeying Cosmo's commands, who surely had done it a hundred times before.

It didn't take long, and his muffled grunts filled the garage, he gulped down his cum like he was drinking water. Then he finally detached his lips from his shaft with a loud 'POP' sound.

A few more cracking and snapping sounds and he was sitting normally. He placed one hand behind his neck and stretched out, letting out a long sexy grunt.

"Fuuuckkk... my neck hurts so fucking bad, but anything to feed my Master," He said between grunts as he exposed his hairy armpit.

I leaned forward and buried my face in his musky pit. He didn't react and just allowed me to worship his sweaty armpits. He tasted and smelled like a real man.

"What's your name boy?" I asked as I took a deep long sniff.

"It's none of your business, you dirty fa-" He suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, and his body tensed. Then his expression softened, and he continued talking, but now less aggressive. "My name is Blake..." he answered casually, "That's it, enjoy my armpits, you gay whore. They're sweaty and musky from a day of riding my bike with my friends under the sun."

I chuckled, "Your armpits taste wonderful, but there's a little alien inside your brain who enjoyed your cum a lot more than I enjoyed your pits. Cosmo is very picky about his food, you should be proud." I said, without taking my mouth from his armpit.

"Well, what can I say? Every girl who’s had the pleasure of getting a taste has only ever come back for more. My cum is alpha-grade, the kind that leaves anyone craving for more. They know it, I know it, and let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want a piece of that?" He braged, jerking his still hard shaft.

I smirked at that. I loved how Cosmo always kept their cocky personas even after becoming mindless meat puppets. Ok, I might have begged him to keep them this way instead of just turning them into cold robots, I liked them with some of their personalities. I continued licking and sniffing his armpits for almost an hour until he suddenly pushed my head away.

"Ok, that's enough dude! Jesus, you're not the only one hungry here. Get up,"

I did what I was told. As I stood, the tent in my pants was on full display. He stood up and stepped in front of me. His face was so close to mine that I could smell his cum on his mouth.

"Master is not sated yet, he wants more. Unfortunately, I already gave him everything I had in my balls, which wasn't much since I was in my girlfriend's house early today and I wasted my cum on that bitch."

My cock throbbed, knowing what was about to happen.

"Master is telling me that the only reason you helped him turn me into his brainless vessel was so you could receive a blowjob from a hot straight guy like me, is that true?"

I could only nod. He snorted in disgust. "I fucking can't believe I had parts of my brain consumed and my free will destroyed by an alien just because a pathetic gay guy is horny. You're sick, dude."

I was completely lost in the moment as the biker knelt in front of me. His lifeless green eyes were locked onto mine as he pulled down my pants, and when his mouth opened, I fixed my eyes on that massive tongue of his; thick and wet. Finally, his tongue wrapped around my shaft like it had a mind of its own. Holy shit, it felt incredible!

He started working me with that tongue, sliding it up and down my shaft like he was savoring every inch. His lips wrapped around my tip, sucking gently, while his tongue did all kinds of wild things, swirling and caressing me in ways that made my knees weak. I let out a low groan, my fingers found their way into his curly hair.

"Fuck," I muttered, totally overwhelmed by the sensation. I tightened my grip on his hair and pushed his head down further, feeling him take me deeper. His throat clenched around me, warm and wet, driving me crazy. He let out a soft moan, and the vibrations sent shivers through my whole body.

I pulled his head back a little, just to take in the sight of this arrogant biker's face. Then I pushed him back down, harder this time. His tongue kept going, sliding up and down my length, hitting all the right spots. I could feel that tension building inside me, I was getting close.

I grabbed his hair tighter, forcing his face against my crotch, making him take me all the way. He gagged a little but didn't back off—they never do—his hands gripped my thighs like he was begging for it. Watching him give in like that, so completely under the alien's control, pushed me right to the edge.

Finally, I pulled out and aimed straight at his tongue, which was hanging out, already waiting. My cum shot out, covering his tongue and dripping down his chin. He opened his mouth wider, letting me see it all before swallowing every last drop. I knew Cosmo was enjoying it just as much as I was, feeding off everything.

When he swallowed the last of it, he looked up at me with that blank gaze and a satisfied smirk. "No matter how many vessels I make, your cum will always be my favorite, my human friend," Cosmo finally said through Blake's voice.

Since that day, Blake became Cosmo's feeding host for the month and he would often send me a message asking me to meet with him.

_____________________

*One month later*

It was 4:00 AM. I was sleeping with Cosmo's previous host, the muscular black hunk that we found at the gas station last month. We were cuddling together when I was awakened by the sound of a text message. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and saw it was a message from Blake. He sent me a mirror photo with a text.

"Master is hungry again, meet me at the parking lot near my house." Was all the message said.

"I'm on my way." I responded.

I grabbed my car keys and drove to the location. Arriving there, the parking lot was desertic like you would expect to be at 4:00 AM. It was cold, luckily I had put on a hoodie. I didn't have to wait long—Soon I saw Blake walking towards me, shirtless, wearing only his pajama pants. Looking hot as always.

"Sorry for waking you this early. I'm just very hungry. I need to eat some strong healthy cum, not some thin, unnourished cum," Cosmo said in full control of Blake.

"Blake isn't producing enough cum anymore? I assume," I asked as I pulled down my pants, freeing my flaccid cock, it was cold. Blake kneeled between my legs and started to stroke my shaft, right there in the open.

"He can only produce a few drops now. Not enough to keep me sated." He said putting his hands inside his pants.

He pulled out his cock and slapped it, I watched as It jiggled. "This thing is completely useless now."

"Wow, you really ran this host out fast, and Blake was a healthy young man, he should last for at least 40 days. You're becoming too greedy, you need to learn to control your hunger so the hosts can last longer."

Cosmo had to change hosts every month because, eventually, the hosts he was possessing would become infertile and stop producing cum forever. It was a side effect of the takeover and the constant feeding. Cosmo had explained to me before about the scientific factors behind the host's infertility, but I didn't dare to try to understand.

I moaned as I felt Blake's warm mouth closing around my shaft, it felt nice from the cold. "Fuck, I'm going to miss Blake. What do you think of us searching for a new host tomorrow? I'm sure Blake here would love to help us turn one of his hot friends into a brainless puppet just like him," I said between moans, as I finally gave Cosmo what he was so hungry for.

[lil-dragon-rawr]

Y'all what if FNaF and DC were in the same universe can you imagine the chaos

(part 2 here)

Michael: *applies for a security job at WE because go big or go home amirite)

Tim, doing the interview because everyone else was freaked out by Michael: so, uh. What's your work experience

Michael: oh! I was a security officer for a bunch of places. Only for like a week at a time though cause I was only working there to set them on fire

Tim, now deeply concerned: um. So uh. That's a crime

Michael, realizing he made a Mistake™ and attempting to defend himself: hey, with the last gig it was literally in my contract that I had to burn the place down

Tim, contemplating insurance fraud:

Michael: also I'm great with lawsuits

Michael: *is living in Crime Alley because of course he is*

Michael: *gets shot while interrupting a gang war*

Michael, staring at the bullet in his chest: oh cool! My first souvenir from the east coast!

Red Hood, trying to get the obvious civilian out of the way: uhh hey buddy, are you good?

Michael "Allergic To Dying" Afton: yeah I'm good! Check out this bullet!

Red Hood, deeply concerned: what the [REDACTED]

Michael, remembering most people die when they're shot: oh don't worry, ever since I got scooped I can't die!

Red Hood, deeply concerned and regretting this conversation: uh. Scooped?

Michael, excited to talk about his trauma: yeah! My dead sister tricked me into getting my insides scooped out so she and her friends could wear my skin as a disguise to escape their prison

Red Hood:

Michael, working at WE and high on fear gas thanks to Scarecrow: oh, the nightmares are back!

Michael: *ignores them and keeps flipping through the cameras to see where Scarecrow went*

Red Robin, trying to help his employees: sir, you need to evacuate the building. Also, here's an antidote to the fear toxin-

Michael, annoyed: hey can you get out of my face? You're blocking the bestest boi

Red Robin: you're on fear toxin, whatever you're seeing isn't real

Michael: yeah and it wasn't real the first four years either but nightmare foxy is back and I'm never letting him go, he's the only one I like

Red Robin: sir please

Tim: *checks in on Michael and sees a little robotic bear reading an official-looking paper*

Tim, incredibly confused and praying that's not confidential WE info: hey Mike, whatcha got there

Michael, scooping up Helpy to present him like it's his favorite child: this is Helpy! He's the best and is so helpful. He also cuddles really nicely!

Michael, getting flashbacks: unlike SOME animatronics

Tim: what's he. What's he holding

Michael, with the energy of a parent excited to show off his kid's latest project: oh it's a lawsuit!

Michael, having a Conversation™ with Red Hood: wait you're dead too!

Red Hood: uhh yeah?

Michael: but why aren't you purple? Are you an animatronic?

Red Hood, incredibly confused: ...why would I be an animatronic?

Michael: cause you aren't decaying like me???

Red Hood: ok cool new question

Red Hood: HOW would I be an animatronic?

Michael: what, like it's difficult?

Michael: I mean, my little brother got rebuilt into an animatronic when he died so it's not that much of a stretch

Red Hood, realizing this is karma for every joke he made about his own death:

Michael: and there was that time a pile of robot spaghetti wore my skin so they could be a real person

Red Hood: would you pLEASE stop talking about that

Michael, ignoring him: didn't stop me from decaying though. Hm

WE: *gets shut out of their systems by an unknown hacker with a robot fox face*

Michael: don't worry guys I got this!

Tim, severely concerned that Batfam stuff is going to get leaked: but you're a security guard?? How-

Michael, typing in LOL: yeah don't worry it's just Lolbit! They like to cause problems on purpose from time to time

Tim: Lol...bit? Causes problems on purpose?

Michael: it's like enrichment

*Batfam realizes they have to start investigating Michael*

Red Hood: I mean, we could just ask him

Red Hood: the first time we met he told me exactly how he died in great detail

Red Hood, reminiscing (read: war flashbacks): he had a twenty-four slide powerpoint

Red Robin, realizing Michael's purple and smells bad for a reason other than "classic Gotham chemicals": he's dead???

Red Hood, desensitized: yeah, he didn't tell you?

Red Robin: *approaches Michael outside of work*

Michael, no longer high on fear toxin: oh hiya boss!

Red Robin, panicking: uhh what

Michael "FoxyBro" Afton: is there a reason you're talking to me outside of business hours? Am I in trouble?

Red Robin, wondering how he was going to explain this to Batman: uhhhhhh

Batman: please explain your previous jobs. For the investigation

Michael: oh! Well it all began when I tried to play a prank on my brother, shoved him into Fredbear's mouth, and got him killed-

Michael: then the nightmares started, which I later found out was partially due to my dad running experiments on me every night-

Michael: eventually he died but not really,

Michael: oh! And my sister got eaten by Baby-

Batman, lost at "shoved him into Fredbear's mouth":

*Batfam arrives at the Pizzaplex to try and figure out what the heck is going on*

Michael, there because he's visiting his siblings, standing next to Baby, Golden Freddy, and Gregory (on Glamrock Freddy's shoulders): oh hi guys!

Red Robin, who read the Funtime schematics: Michael what the [404 SWEAR NOT FOUND]

Red Hood: there's a child?? Why is there a child???

Michael: didn't I tell you about him? Anyways this is Gregory, he's the robot version of my dead brother!

Michael, gesturing to Golden Freddy: and this is my dead brother

Michael: though technically that's also another kid who lowkey kinda scares me

Michael, moving on: and this is my sister!

Michael: y'know, the one who tricked me into getting my insides scooped so she and her friends could wear my skin as a disguise?

Red Hood: can you PLEASE stop talking about that

Baby: I told you you wouldn't die!

Michael, looking at the Batfam like they're cameras from The Office: and she wonders why she's not my favorite sibling

Nightwing, having a moment but still trying to get information: who's. Who's the other bot

Michael, patting Glamrock Freddy: oh that's me!

Michael: a piece of me anyways

Nightwing: I have so many more questions

Signal, who can see the ghosts: please do not ask for answers.

Michael, showing the Batfam around the Pizzaplex: do you want to see my favorite ride?

Red Hood: ...sure

Michael: it's Foxy's log ride! Foxy is my favorite, I'm so upset he got replaced with Roxy but at least he's still around! Y'know when I was a kid I used to wear a Foxy mask, which is coincidentally the mask I wore when I got my brother killed-

Michael: *goes on a whole rant of the evolutions of Foxy and why OG Foxy is his favorite*

Red Hood: *starts taking notes*

Roxy, storming through the Pizzaplex: Gregory, you lawless RAT, how DARE you replace my HAIRBRUSH with a pORCUPINE-

Gregory: *running to hide behind Spoiler because he associates purple with Michael*

Spoiler: *as Roxy runs up* oh uhh hi there. Roxy right?

Roxy:

Roxy: you're not Gregory

Spoiler: haha nope! No Gregory here!

Roxy: oh. Sorry

Roxy: love your outfit though!

Spoiler: thanks, love your makeup!

Roxy: I know, right? I'm gorgeous!

Spoiler:

Roxy: ...wanna have a girl's night with me and Glamrock Chica where we get dressed up and make Sun swear in binary?

Spoiler: did you even need to ask?

Robin, in a corner vibing with Mangle: *petting Mangle*

Mangle, also vibing: ._.(^w^)

Batman:

Puppet:

Batman:

Puppet:

Red Hood, realizing this is a staring contest: *goes halfway across the Pizzaplex to get popcorn and comes back to them in the exact same positions* ooh. Getting interesting

Nightwing: *argues with Circus Baby about clown etiquette*

Signal, overwhelmed by all the ghosts: man sure wish I had my lofi beats to study and relax to right now

DJ Music Man: *climbs out of the wall*

Signal: *unholy screeching* HOLY M- wait you're chill aren't you

DJ: *starts playing his version of lofi beats to study and relax to*

Signal: ...huh

Black Bat: *disappeared, found Ballora, and is now dancing with her* (^ ^)

Red Robin, recognizing the fox face from the WE hack: yOU

Funtime Foxy: I appreciate the enthusiasm for performing arts, but you must be thinking of my sibling!

Red Robin, who didn't find Lolbit's blueprints: your what

Lolbit, appearing out of nowhere: he means me!

Red Robin, with newly energized fury: YOU!

Lolbit: ...LOL!

[cent-scratchnsniff]

something bad did indeed happen to that man. spent abt 25 minutes trying to find a better picture of that one (1) offical piece with his eyes open that wasnt compressed or tiny