#especially others who have it just as bad as you and are not doing shit to u

[wxxpingangxls]

mr munch!

he slammed the door, huffing. "what the fuck is your problem?" you asked, watching as he throws his gym bag on the floor.

"no one believes i have game!" he whined. armin scrunched his face as soon as he heard you snort, not taking your eyes off the tv, once. "something funny?" he asked, clearly unhappy with your response. he pathetically plumped himself on the sofa next to you.

armin was a nerd. your typical tv nerd. one who knew wayyy too much about things that were less than ideal, academically gifted and zero game when it came to getting women. i mean it wasn't his fault that he was sooo eager to please his teachers. sure, he was cute with his glasses that seemed more like a magnifying glass glued to his face, and not to mention that fuck ass bob of his. but you know what, he wore it well. and you had to give him that much.

"ok so, how do you pick up a pretty girl then?" you asked, now directly facing him. he fiddled with his bony fingers before swallowing harshly. "well?"

"well i'm charming?"

"according to who?" you bellowed out in laughter as he pouted. "you're a nerd, and there's nothing wrong with that," your hand rubbed on his knee as you gave him a pitiful smile.

"are you...giving me pity right now?"

"no? i'm comforting a friend," you said curtly.

"can i ask you something?"

you smiled expectantly, knowing that he was probably going to splutter out some fuckary. however, nothing could ever prepare you for what came out of his big mouth.

"what's a munch?"

your eyes widened in shock.

"is it a bad thing? everyone was asking if i was a munch, so i just said yes,"

"why the fuck would you say yes to something you don't know the meaning of?"

"well to be honest, it seemed like a good thing..." he put his head down as his face grew hot.

you weren't any better because now your palms were sweaty. "armin, aren't you like, a know-it-all?"

"oh please, i'm not that smart..."

"clearly," you couldn't help but pity the poor baby. and he didn't like that. he didn't like it when others looked down on him especially with pity.

"so, are you gonna tell me?"

"a munch is a man who loves to eat pussy, okay?"

"but i've never...done that before,"

"i can tell," you huffed out while he visibly blushed. "well now the whole school knows that you loves to eat pussy," you giggled loudly. you half expected armin to whine like he always does, but he stays silent. "oh come on, i'm just kidding, laugh a little,"

"so, being a munch sounds fun, i wanna try it out," he turns to face you.

"sorry? armin, are you fucking okay? you don't even know how to eat it,"

"how am i supposed to learn?"

and that's how you ended up with your legs held all the way up to your ears, with armin and his bob between your legs. his tongue piercing swirled on your clit. "you're...you're a fucking liar!" you squealed, as his mouth suckled on your clit. he moaned, completely ignoring you. unbeknownst to you, he was smirking as your syrupy slick dribbled down your ass crack. but that didn't stop him.

his tongue trailed all the way down to the winking hole, as his thumb rubbed your bud with ease. you were unbelievably wet as he tongue moved up towards your hole, squeezing it into your tight pussy. you pulled on his hair, bringing him impossibly closer to it, smothering him completely. each time, his tongue subtly stretching you out. he grunted and groaned, sending vibrations straight to your heart. that lying bastard. he's not fucking new to this shit.

you mewled, watching him remove himself from your cunt for a hot minute. "what's wrong? i'm just showing you what a munch is," he slyly grinned, his chin covered in nothing but slick and saliva. fuck, was he nasty, fingers never leaving your clit. your toes started throwing gang signs as tears formed in your eyes. before you could tell him to move his ass and finish his meal, he's already attaching his mouth in a suction motion onto your clit. you played with your nipple as your hips literally bucked up into his face, greedily trying hard to get more. more of that attention he was giving to the entirety of your sweet pussy.

honestly, you were mad you hadn't just sat on his face to shut him up sometimes. and trust me, you'd thought about it. the ball of his tongue piercing rolled continuously on your clit with speed, as you damn near closed your legs in overwhelming pleasure. this nerd was flicking your clit raw, but you loved every moment of it. "just like that," you whined, yanking his hair a little too harsh. if you had pulled it the right way, he might've just cum in his pants for the second time that night.

"mfphm, fuck armin!" you squealed a little too loud, that wretched piece of metal and his tongue making you cry tears of and pleasure. it seemed almost sadistic with the way he kept repeating the same motion that made your legs shake and quiver. "okay, armin, m'cummin!" and all those words did, was spur him on. watching as he attempted to push his face into your sticky cunt, your leg locked up, with your back arching steeply.

you came hard, but that didn't stop armin from flicking his tongue on your clit, over and over again. and the worst part? you couldn't get him to move away. "okay, i get it!" you moaned out, damn near screaming. he was lucky that your legs felt weak, or else he would've been crushed by your thighs, not that he would mind. "armin, i'm done!" you sobbed out, and the obscene sounds of him slurping and sucking on your pussy never stopped. your hand moved to place itself on his head and attempt to push him away.

a feeling arose in your tummy, something unfamiliar, and at the point you were crying hot tears. you even couldn't let out one coherent sentence before you came again. even harder than the first. you genuinely felt ethereal, ringing in your ears and seeing nothing but white. your heartbeat was in your ears as he finally removed himself after riding your orgasm out.

two slim fingers slowly slipped into your cunt. "you bastard,"

"hey, that's not anyway to talk to the guy that just gave you the orgasm of your life," he pouted, fingers curving upwards towards your g-spot as you moaned out loud. he swiftly pulled them out before slapping your cunt.

you sat up immediately, and gave him one harsh slap across his face. "you said you've never eaten pussy, what the hell was that?" you huffed out.

"thanks!"

"it wasn't a compliment,"

that sneaky bastard. of he knows how to eat it. but now you had to find out if he could lay it down. well, you actually didn't have to worry about that, cuz baby, despite cumming in his pants twice, he still had more in him.

that fucking nerd.

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

That's a reflection on them, not you. That isn't to say it won't hurt when someone judges you, it's absolutely going to hurt. But the fact is that you need to have the confidence to know yourself and know that, no matter what people believe about you, you know who you are, what you're worth, and what you believe and think about yourself. You need to develop the confidence to understand that, no matter what anyone says or believes about you, what they accuse you of, you know yourself and that their accusations don't change this truth of you and never will. You cannot allow the judgment of another to define who you are.

I get judged constantly, I've had people tell me the most abhorrent things I dare not even repeat, calling me some of the worst shit imaginable, and one of those things was, I kid you not, over commenting on how I loved an art of Deadpool and Spiderman kissing. But at the end of the day, they can believe what they will of me. I know who I am, and it doesn't matter if they do or don't. I wish they understood me, yes, and it hurts that they never will accept the truth about me, but there are more things to worry about at the end of the day than what some random folks think of who I am when I know myself more than they ever will, and I uphold this in my actions, beliefs, daily affirmations, etc.

In ethics, there's something called the growth mindset, meaning people are willing and open to learning and changing their minds, versus a closed mindset wherein they're not willing to learn or change (you'll often see this in especially older and elderly people, for example with how many elderly folks refuse to learn technology at all and demand for alternatives to it). And if the person has a closed mindset then it's not your duty to make them change that. Chances are that no amount of teaching will ever change their mindset, anyway.

And the people who would, in your situation, assume automatically you're a cannibal or cannibalism supporter, are those who likely have the closed mindset, or at least have not received the teaching to understand that to learn most anything at all, you have to challenge your worldview.

Even if they believe you're a cannibalism supporter, so what? Is that a bad thing when put in the context of a society in which it's merely a fact of life for them? Is it bad to allow people to have traditions wherein they consume the bodies of their loved ones believing it brings them closer to them? Is it wrong to support an act of survival to keep oneself alive in desperation? Cannibalism isn't inherently barbaric.

Support of something isn't always black or white, either. You can have nuanced situations in which you'll support something or not based on context, and not just this example but for a number of things. Would you support something such as animal euthanasia for when an animal is very sick and cannot live a quality life, but if it's for the reason that a shelter or city is overpopulated by the animal you wouldn't support it? What about murder? Would you support someone killing a person who is attempting to kill them, but you wouldn't support the idea for murder just for murder's sake?

That is the thing about ethics is it forces you to realize the nuances of the world, the human experience and mind, and people who refuse to see this are those with closed mindsets who, more likely than not, would judge you as in your example. And it doesn't matter what they think of you because at the end of the day, again, you're how you define yourself. And if you'll allow hate and poor judgment to define you, if you're going to worry about what everyone thinks of you in many or all contexts, you'll never be able to challenge your own worldview to learn in your own mindset, to grow and change.

Granted, that isn't to say you should just ask a bunch of random strangers on the street for their opinions on a controversial subject. It's important that you discuss these things in open circles where others are willing to contribute to the discussion in a constructive way, such as a classroom or a mutual meeting space.

But in the end, confidence in yourself as well as understanding that others do not have the right to define you, only you do, is key.

[mahmahmahmysharona]

When you and Bob have your first time…twice (pt. 2)

Bob Reynolds x Avenger Reader (Part 6/6)

*smut warning*

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

You and Bob managed to get past your seemingly failed attempt at sleeping together pretty quickly.

If anything, it calmed you. You knew now that it couldn't be rushed, especially for the both of you. Too much pressure and one of you might implode — and considering one of you is arguably the most powerful person in the universe, it wasn't really a risk worth taking.

So, you let it be. For exactly a week, until you were sent out on a last minute mission.

It went terribly.

The fact that they saw you coming wasn't your fault — but Ava's near-miss and subsequent injuries were.

You were supposed to be covering her. But then you got distracted trying to reload a gun, and before you knew it she was on the floor, a blade sticking out of her side because she wasn't able to ghost-out in time and you weren't paying attention to warn her.

She stayed conscious, which was a good sign, but the return back to the tower was horrific, watching Yelena switch out bloody bandages and trying to keep her awake.

You, meanwhile, were a mess. You cried when you thought nobody was looking. How could you be so stupid? You had only one purpose in life �� only one thing you were really good for — and you failed at that, too. If you couldn't help protect your team, then what was the point?

Ava could read your mind, telling you, "It's okay. It's not your fault." She was even cracking jokes by the time you arrived back. You smiled and nodded, but the smile faded as soon as you helped get her down to rest and you returned to your room. When you caught yourself in the mirror, you were taken aback. You hadn't even realized the extend of your own hits. You looked like shit, which only added to your dismay.

Then, right on cue, the door creaked open. Bob. He stepped inside, just as he always did after you got back.

You were certain you'd never seen anyone else in your life make the expression he made in that moment: like their heart is climbing up through their throat.

"I heard things went bad," he said. He moved towards you, but you stepped back. You didn't want to be held right then. You didn't deserve it.

"I'm just...gonna take a shower," you told him. You didn't even wait for a response. You went into the bathroom, stripped your clothes, and stood under the water, trying to scald yourself of your misery and guilt.

What good are you?

By the time you got out and wrapped a towel around yourself, you expected Bob to have given up and returned to his own room. But when you stepped out, he was still there, sitting on a chair and playing with his fingers. Of course he wouldn't give up on you. And then you feel even worse for thinking he might have done.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, standing up.

God, you thought. You don't deserve any of this. Him. Them. This job. Your eyes welled up with threatening tears, and you wiped them away before they even had a chance to fall.

"I failed to do my job, it's as simple as that," you said. "Now Ava's in for a difficult recovery, and the team won't trust me."

"Of course they will."

You shook your head. "I'm only valuable because of what I can do, not because of who I am. And now I've just proved I can't even do that. Maybe they don't even need me."

You laughed, because it was all you could bear to do. You didn't even know what you needed, what would lessen some of the burden that had been nipping at you since you stepped foot back in the tower.

But Bob did. He saw you standing there, all your well-concealed self-hatred finally coming to the surface, and there was only one way he could think to stop it in its tracks.

He reached forward and took your arm in his hand, pulling you towards him. When you reached him, he wrapped his other arm around your waist and kissed you deeply.

You stumbled a little, not expecting this, and from Bob of all people. But he had you. He always had you, and as he kissed you, you found yourself melting under his grip.

It took a lot of strength to reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, but you managed. Then you were on each other, pressed against one another as close as you could without wondering when the universe might collapse in on itself between you, right there.

He was pulling you out of your own mind, like you had done for him so many times before. It was intoxicating for you both. You wouldn't have been surprised if things had stopped there — if you had both pulled away from the edge before you'd toppled over it — but you were surprised when you suddenly felt his hand drop down to the back of your thigh, dripping the skin there through your towel.

"I need you," he said into your ear. You could feel the words slipping into you and making your spine tingle. "Can I have you now?"

"Yes." You think you said it. Maybe you didn't say anything at all. But suddenly, you felt his hand gripping the towel at your back and tearing at it, pulling it free and dropping it to the ground beside you. Jesus, was this real? You only needed to look at his eyes, which looked you up and down with almost painful reverence, to confirm that it was.

Then he was on you again, his palms dragging against your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps all over as he kissed you harder, faster. He moved you around to position himself on the side of the bed, using his hands to bring you to him until you stood between his knees.

He pressed his kisses against your stomach, your ribs, the mounds of your breasts, leaving you breathless and gripping onto his hair just to keep yourself upright. But that was nothing compared to what he did next, dragging his lips down to where your thighs met, where you were already wet and waiting for him.

When his tongue found you, you gasped. Despite all the things you'd done, all the chaos you'd seen, nothing had thrown you as much as the feeling of his tongue lapping at you, grabbing handfuls of your thighs and pressing you onto his mouth even more.

"Holy shit," you breathed, pulling at his shirt. You wanted it gone. You wanted him to be as exposed as you, ready for you to climb on top of him and take him in. But he wasn't letting you, instead grabbing your hands and pulling them down by your sides, holding you there.

You wondered briefly if this was still Bob. But then he loosened his grip and ran his thumb across your wrist, and you knew it was. This was just a new side of him you never even knew he had.

Honestly, Bob didn't know he had this in him either. It astounded him that at times he wasn't able to put one foot in front of the other without messing up, but now, he had you wrapped around his little finger. He hated having such little control over his own life, always at the mercy of the darkness that hid inside him. But now, he was taking control, and there wasn't anything dark or regretful about it. In fact, he thought he could have burst into a ball of light right then and there, listening to the sound of your whimpers.

"Please," you said. "I want— I want you."

When his mouth left you, you were finally able to wrestle his shirt off of him. And as he leaned back, you took the chance to press him down onto the bed and mount him, taking his face in your hands and pressing your mouth against his like it was the only oxygen in the room.

Underneath, he shifted to remove his pants, and you finally felt his hard length pressing against you. You ground down onto him, earning a moan from him into your neck. There was no rush, but you felt as though you might pass out if you didn't have him soon. You reached down and freed him from his underwear, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt him bound against your core.

He was already reaching down, positioning himself at your entrance. "Jesus," he breathed. "You're perfect."

"You couldn't bring yourself to say anything to that. What was there to say? Instead, you gently perched at the tip of him, then lowered yourself onto him, slowly.

Someone whimpered. Someone gasped. It was hard to tell anything anymore, since the only thing you could focus on was how perfectly he fit into you. How good it was to feel him in the pit of you. As you rocked yourself on top of him, rising and falling with the lift of his hips, his hands found your face and used it to lower you down to meet him.

He kissed you, your bodies grinding together in a quickening pace, desperate to get closer, deeper. But there was nowhere else to go. Nobody had ever got this close to you before, and you hoped he could tell that just by the pounding of your heart. (He had to feel that too, right?)

When you felt one of his hands slip between you both, his thumb finding your core and caressing it, you could barely stop yourself from letting out a yelp. Instead, you settled for moaning his name, and he suddenly reacted with a new urgency.

You were growing close and wanted to tell him as much, but there was no way in the world you could form any sort of words right now. Instead, you grabbed his free hand, locking your fingers together and squeezing it tight. You found the wave, finally letting out a small cry as you finished. When you came to, his hand had found the base of your throat, and he was whispering in your ear feverishly, "I'm gonna— Can I—"

"Yes, yes, please."

That was all he needed. He buried himself in you, shuddering with his final thrusts and pressing his face into your shoulder. You waited until you were fully certain he was through — and then a few moments longer to catch your breath — before lifting yourself off and settling on the bed next to him. Between you both, your hands found each other.

"You didn't break anything," you told him after a while. "What does that mean?"

You didn't look at him, but you could hear him smiling. "It means it was perfect," he said, exhausted. "Was it— good for you?"

"Of course."

Everything else — the mission, the dread, the future — that would come back to you. It would never go away. But now it was different, because you had each other. Two fucked-up peas in a pod, trying to find some grasp on reality. He was your reality now, and he was rolling over to press his lips against your cheek.

You regretted nothing.

(That's the last of this miniseries, but open to requests if anyone has ideas for Bob one-shots they want to see!)

Tag list: @purplefluffycows @i-shall-abide @avengersinitiative2012 @tatsunesworld @lovelyypythoness @yujyujj @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @thek8archive @k1ttyjuice

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 30

Went and voted- going to be a white night tonight 🫠 I don't even want to think about the outcome tbh. The russian muppet is already calling fraud and the exit poll votes aren't even live yet.

Anyway- Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 30 >>next(TBC)

Gordon was growing too old for a lot of things. Drinking and partying, roller coasters, horror movies, his job, and above all, the mess that was the Wayne family.

He remembers the day he found you, shivering in the cold shadows of Crime Alley as your hands clutched at your mother. He remembers how much blood you were covered in, the terrified look on your face, the pure shock you were in. And he remembers how reassured he felt when he found out you were Bruce’s kid.

Bruce had grown so much from the boy who burned the lawn of his professor, from the kid who spent so much time in detention, who had to spend his early life in Arkham’s boys’ rehabilitation home, who got himself expelled from the pure violence running through his veins. He did so well with Richard, but maybe Gordon deluded himself into believing that.

The man has felt guilty since the whole truth went public. Sure, it has died down quite a bit, but he couldn’t help it. You were so small then, so frightened, to see the malice and hate in your eyes, the pain threatening to crack your even, calculated voice- it hurt. He promised you that Bruce would love you, that the young billionaire would protect you.

He should have checked in. He should have, especially when his own daughter didn’t talk about you as she did the others, like she did even about Damian. Gordon didn’t even know you were missing, he truly thought that Bruce would be better. He was with the others, he was with Barbara. How could he be a second father to her and not even a guardian to you?

The old officer rubbed at his face, trying to erase the tiredness. And his daughter… When he asked her about this madness, the guilt and shame that overtook her face hurt more than a gunshot. He raised her better than that, raised her not to be afraid to speak up and question authority figures, to help defend the defenseless. How could she do that by night, and give a child the cold shoulder by day? She saw how the other treated you, she told him how she did. Barbara should have told him earlier. He would have fought for you- hell, from everything he’s been finding out, he was sure Bruce would have willingly given you up.

You were just another kid he couldn’t do right by. Another number weighing on his shoulders. He should have checked up on you.

Barbara could only watch as the guilt ate at her father. It was like being teleported back to when Joker shot her spine out, like it was his fault everything happened. She wasn’t sure what her old man could have done right by you, not when everyone was so willing to not even try, not when she wasn’t willing to try.

If someone asked her about you a few years back, she’d just brush you off as an annoying kid Bruce took in. But you weren’t. You were curious, tried to worm your way into the dynamic of everyone, but that was just normal kid behavior. You didn’t throw tantrums because shit didn’t go your way, at least nobody saw them, and you didn’t deliberately break stuff or acted out to gain attention. At most, you had bad timing with your questions, or maybe she just fell in line with the others and was trying to find an excuse.

She could say you were easily forgettable, that you were too busy doing your own thing, but you were a child. It was their job to integrate you into the family, into society, it was their job to nurture you into something great. Barbara’s lips pursed as she realized how bad that line of thought was. You weren’t something to be shaped into whatever they wanted, into the next Robin, the next Batgirl, into the next heir of Wayne Enterprises.

You were an artist, a good one, and not because of how many things you won, but because your art shone with emotions. Every piece was a little glimpse of how you felt, and maybe she wasn’t as experienced in art as Damian, but she could see the little symbols of longing you had of them, of how your art immediately changed to something happier around the time the Rogues took you in, how it turned neutral, little signs of them slipping back in when Cassandra and Duke came in the imagine, and how it returned to happiness when the Graysons took you in, the drawings on your social media shining with glimpses of them, not the bats.

She hated it. Hated to see how you viewed them, a grim presence in your life, there just to ruin your day. You didn’t view Nolan like that, even after everything he did. You didn’t even want to be a hero, he forced you to be one. So why did you prefer them over your real family? It couldn’t be just because they showed you some affection and were part of your school life.

For now she put the thought away, jotting a note that perhaps it was because of Markus and Deborah Grayson as she got back to her work. Cecil was sure it was because of the woman, but she couldn’t trust one man's opinion, not again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everything went to shit so quickly, the Reanimen were strong as a unit, but against two versed Viltrumites, you, and Mark, it was easy to cut through them. However, as Thragg and Conquest were clean and quick in their actions, Mark and you were sloppy. Your brother was simply in too much pain from the sound wave to try and pull his punches, and you were in too much distress to care about being careful.

Your fingers were twitching for Cecil’s blood, to put the bastard down, even though you understood why he’d do something like this. He wasn’t a meta, he was a mortal, merely a human with too much power and responsibility. He was doing what he thought would be best for everyone, for the world. But your loyalty was never his, and he should have been more prepared. And yet… you stopped Thragg from decapitating him.

“Rudy. Get this fucking thing out of my head. Now.” Mark limped as Robot followed him, and your hands shook as blood dripped off them. An argument seemed to be happening in the background, but the yelling was being drowned out by a buzz ringing in your ears. You weren’t ready for immortality, for losing people you actually cared for. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. “Should have let us kill him.” Grandpa Morgan’s grumble finally brought you back to Earth.

“Maybe.” You whisper, your head snapping behind you as you finally register what everyone was arguing about, your eyes sweeping over Robot’s mechanical body and the others. “Rae’s right. You’re not even the original right now.” Kate straightened at your words, everyone’s eyes going to the one on her chest.

“Maybe Cecil was right about having contingency plans, but putting a bomb in my brother’s head is too far. First of all. Second, if you, any of you, think you’re safe, you’re wrong. Cecil is very similar to Batman, and we all know that the furry has contingency plans for his own kids. You’re not free, not safe, once you think of stepping the wrong way, you’ll be next.”

Your eyes move to the Immortal and Kate. “And third, you two are beyond pathetic.” Rex snorted at the comment, unable to keep it in from shock, but no one else was willing to comment or argue on it. “You’re angry-“ Abe was trying to placate you, to redirect your emotions. “Yes. I’m also terrified. At how easy it was for him to sneak something so deadly into my brother, a boy who’s only been on our side, and at how easy it is for you to deem it as right, not willing to see the bigger imagine.”

“And I’ll double down on what I said. You two are pathetic.” Thragg shifts behind you, arms crossing over his chest as he simply observes. He’s been doing that since he landed on Earth. “I have no expectations of Kate, she’s not my friend, and she’s reckless and stupid in the way she fights. No technique, no strategy, just duplicate yourself as much as you can and hope for the best. It’s pathetic, a waste of potential.”

“But I expected more from you, Abe. I expected you to stand up for us, considering we were your anchor for a while, but truly, that’s my bad. I shouldn’t expect that from spineless bastards who can’t even stand up to their younger lover.” You shrug. “Your fighting styles aren’t that different either. You used to be better, but since the Guardians got murdered, you’ve become useless. Jumping in, fist at the ready, all that power running through your veins, and yet, you’re the first to drop.”

“It’s pathetic. All of it.” You sigh, shaking your head as you gently nudge the two Viltrumites towards the door, done with the Guardians and ready to just get your brother and go home. And with that, the guardians broke into two sides. Samson rubbed at his temple as his name was called.”I owe her a lot…” His eyes moved from one side to the other. “I still believe that this was just a misstep- I can’t fix this from the outside.”

“But if push comes to shove, I know damn well it wasn’t Cecil or the Guardians who pulled me from rock bottom.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After talking to your parents, Mark went off to talk to his friend, maybe sneak in Eve’s room too, you could smell the romantic angst off them. It could never be you. “Thragg, please move over a bit, you’re invading my personal space.” You could only sigh as the man barely moved, still keeping his knee touching yours. ”….Thank you.” Your eyebrow twitched as the man nodded.

Conquest was flipping through the note cards and books Oliver insisted he and Thragg could learn from, calloused fingers tracing the cartoonish drawing of a child with his parents and other family members. His eyes first went to Nolan, who was snoring on the armchair with Oliver draped over his lap and snoring just as loudly as his old man, before settling on you, lingering on your tired eyes. “You called me Grandpa. We’re not blood related.”

“We’re not.” You shrug. “But I’m not blood related to anyone in this house either, and Nolan and Debbie still call me their daughter, Mark and Oliver still call me their sister. My blood family never did. They let their enemies raise me, so blood doesn’t mean much around here.” Conquest only snorted at you. “Blood means everything to Viltrumites.” A shit eating grin slowly took over your lips as the opportunity to meme presented itself. “Well, too damn bad, grandpa. You’re family now, a Grayson, deal with it or perish.”

“…What does a grandfather even do? What’s the responsibilities that come with the title?” Deep down, Morgan liked how easy you welcomed him in, how willing you were to give him a purpose beyond being a killing machine. “Good question.” You hummed in thought, trying to find a way to explain it in correlation to how he knew how to live. “Well, traditionally, the role of both grandparents is to love and nurture their grandkids, but usually the grandfather takes a more easy-going way of it while still being a protector. We’ll talk about gender roles and how they harm both women and men later, but for example, my friend’s grandpa was more willing than his grandma to climb a cliff and jump into a lake with him. She was thinking about both of them being hurt and in pain, trying to protect him from the get-go, while the Grandpa had the freedom of just thinking about creating more memories-“

Morgan stopped listening a while back, and now that Thragg was poking fun at the way you were rambling, trying to over explain, he was deliberately not listening. He could do that. He could protect the boys and you, he could… he’ll try to love and be there for you. He watched as you got more and more angry while Thragg remained blank-faced, his permanent frown still present even as his eyes shone with mirth… Yeah, he could try.

“Yes! Always frowning does give me a headache, what about it?!-“ Your childish bickering got interrupted by a knocking on the door. “I’m not done with you- We’ll get back to your mean mug, that much tension in your face can’t be just your resting face.” You huff as you get up, moving fast to your front door and opening it.

“Hello neighbor!” Horror overtook your face as your shoulders slumped in defeat. “I do not have the mental capacity for this right now… or ever.” Dick Grayson didn’t get another word in as the door was slammed in his face, Damian not even being noticed. You’ve never locked a door and drawn the blinds closed as fast as you just did, being even quicker to turn around and hiding yourself under Thragg’s discarded cape. “I’m not here, I died thirty years ago.” The man just raised an eyebrow. “You’re nineteen… Almost twenty.”

“I don’t care, I died thirty years ago.” Conquest got up, the couch creaking in relief, and straightened his back. It was the moment for Grandpa to protect his family. “I’ll get rid of the worm-“ He stopped as your hand snuck from under the cape, waving dismissively as you whined a small no, slumping back on the couch with defeat. He pouted, saying that he deemed this a worthy kill, but he was ignored.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince @swanluver @ohnoivefallen @eyeless-kun @bunniotomia @kawairoach

Sneak peek ch 31: “You’re bald.” Conquest’s mutter made you wheeze, your shoulders shaking as you covered your mouth. Mark did his best not to laugh, nails digging into his knees. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lex huffed. “By our standards, you’re old and out of your prime. And you’re weaker than her. Too weak. Your offspring would be useless.” Luthor stared into the void for a few seconds, mouth agape as he parked in front of a cozy farmhouse. “Okay, slow down-“

[prettygirl-gabi]

Especially Then

Pairing: Georgia Amoore x Reader

Fandom:WNBA-Washington Mystics

Summary: brownies, periods and ACL recovery what could go wrong…

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @zizi-bee-yapping

I don’t cry often. Really, I don’t.

But right now I’m standing in the middle of our apartment kitchen, in a stained hoodie, hair tied up in the saddest excuse for a bun, surrounded by flour, cocoa powder, and one very broken egg on the floor… and I am dangerously close to losing it.

Which is ridiculous, because I can bake. I actually know what I’m doing most days. My brownies have won over friends, teammates, entire potluck parties.

But today? Today, my uterus has decided to throw the equivalent of a Category 5 hormonal hurricane through my body, and I just wanted—needed—to do something kind.

Something for Georgia.

She’s coming home today. After ACL surgery. After weeks of hospital beds and rehab centers and PT appointments.

My girlfriend, the fiercest, most stubborn, most brilliant basketball nerd in the league, is finally coming home. And I wanted to surprise her with something sweet and warm and comforting.

Enter: my infamous double chocolate sea salt brownies.

Only… I underestimated how bad my cramps would be today. And how foggy my brain gets when I’m bleeding out and riding a tidal wave of emotions.

One second I was happily whisking eggs and sugar, the next I was doubled over from a cramp, and then the measuring cup slipped, the vanilla spilled everywhere, and now there’s melted chocolate on the ceiling.

The ceiling.

“Oh my God,” I mutter, half in awe, half in despair. “How did I even—?”

I start giggling.

Not like cute, rom-com laughter. No. It’s that delirious, wheezy, tears-in-your-eyes kind of giggle that comes from stress, pain, and the fact that your uterus is basically trying to take you out at the knees.

I sit down on the kitchen floor—gently avoiding the broken egg—and lean against the cabinet, cradling my stomach with one hand and pressing the other to my mouth to muffle the insane laughter bubbling out of me.

“I’m a disaster,” I tell the air. “I am a walking, bleeding, chocolate-covered disaster.”

That’s when I hear the front door open.

Shit.

“Y/N, babe. Where are you?”

I look up, wide-eyed. Georgia’s voice floats in, soft but tired. There’s a quiet thud as she drops her bag by the door, the creak of crutches against the wood floor.

“I’m in the kitchen!” I shout, voice cracking.

A moment later, she appears in the doorway—and freezes.

Her hair is in a lazy ponytail, a hoodie slung over her frame, her left leg carefully braced and elevated slightly.

She looks like a warrior princess who just returned from battle. And I look like a toddler who had a baking tantrum.

“Oh my God,” she breathes.

I burst out laughing again.

“I was trying to make brownies,” I say, gesturing around helplessly. “For you. Welcome-home brownies. But I’m on my period and I think my organs are fighting for dominance and I spilled everything and then dropped an egg and… there’s chocolate on the ceiling, Georgia. Ceiling.”

She looks like she’s trying not to laugh.

“Baby…” she says gently, hobbling closer on her crutches. “Why didn’t you just wait until I got home? We could’ve done it together.”

“Because!” I sniff dramatically. “You had surgery. You’ve been through so much. I wanted you to come home to brownies and comfort and joy, not—this!” I throw my hands out like Vanna White gesturing to hell.

She finally lets out a soft chuckle, and even that warms me.

“Okay,” she says. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna stand up—slowly—and we’re gonna go lie down on the couch. Because one of us just had surgery, and the other is on her period and spiraling into a chocolate-induced breakdown.”

“I’m not spiraling,” I mumble, still seated.

“You’re sitting next to a broken egg like it’s your emotional support object.”

I squint up at her. “How are you both funny and annoying?”

“Talent, babe.”

With some help from Georgia and one of the dining chairs I use for leverage, I get up off the floor.

I feel like a cramp might murder me at any second, but I wobble my way into the living room while Georgia settles onto the L-shaped couch.

I grab my heating pad, plug it in, and then slowly curl up on the side of the L that doesn’t touch her leg. I press the warm pad to my stomach and let out a sigh of relief.

She pulls a blanket over both of us and holds her arm out.

“C’mere.”

“Won’t I bump your knee?”

“Not if you cuddle like the little spoon you are.”

I narrow my eyes. “That’s slander.”

But I scoot over anyway, carefully tucking myself into her side, draping my arm over her stomach.

I’m close enough to smell her shampoo—vanilla and something herbal—and the tension in my body starts to unravel.

Her fingers find my hair. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“I was trying to be romantic,” I murmur.

“And you were,” she says. “Like, aggressively romantic. The kitchen’s seen things. But I love you for it.”

My eyes flutter closed. “Even with chocolate in my hair?”

She presses a kiss to my temple. “Especially then.”

I giggle softly, and before I know it, the warmth of her, the heating pad, the softness of the couch—it all pulls me under. My body needed this. She did too.

When I wake up, the sun is lower, casting golden light across the living room. The clock reads 6:21 p.m. and Georgia’s still sleeping beside me, her hand loosely curled around mine.

I shift carefully, turning toward her. “Hey,” I whisper, brushing hair out of her face.

She blinks awake slowly. “Mmm… Did we nap?”

“Like champions.”

She stretches slightly. “How’s your stomach?”

“Still waging war. But less violently.”

“Good.” She yawns. “You wanna try again?”

I blink. “You mean—brownies?”

She nods. “You’re not allowed to do it alone this time. I refuse to let a cocoa powder apocalypse happen again.”

I sit up with a groan, then look down at myself. “I’m covered in dried batter.”

She shrugs. “I love you anyway.”

“I’m gonna marry you,” I say without thinking.

She grins. “You better.”

Thirty minutes later, the kitchen is much more manageable. We cleaned up the major disaster before starting again.

Georgia sits at the counter, leg elevated on a stool, a mixing bowl in her lap while I measure out ingredients with a little more focus this time.

“Okay,” I say, “melted butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla go first.”

Georgia hums. “You know, this feels like those cooking shows where the wife knows what she’s doing and the husband just eats the raw batter.”

I laugh. “Are you saying you’re the husband?”

“Absolutely. In this kitchen? Fully helpless.”

She does manage to stir the wet ingredients while I mix the dry ones: cocoa powder, flour, salt. When I lean over to scrape the last bit of flour into the bowl, Georgia grabs my wrist gently.

“You sure you’re okay?”

I pause, heart softening. “Yeah. I was overwhelmed earlier, but I think I just needed you.”

She smiles. “Well. I’m not going anywhere.”

I kiss her cheek. “Good.”

We fold everything together, pour the batter into the pan, sprinkle sea salt on top, and finally slide the tray into the oven. I set the timer and slump against the counter.

“You survived,” Georgia teases.

“Barely,” I mutter. “If this batch turns out burnt, I’m giving up on baking forever.”

“Liar.”

“I am.”

She pats her lap. “C’mere, chef.”

I glance at her brace. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Just lean on the good leg.”

I settle on the stool beside her, curling into her side again, and we sit there in our cocoa-scented kitchen, wrapped in warmth and recovery.

And when the timer dings and we pull out the most perfect-looking brownies I’ve ever made, she takes one bite and grins.

“These taste like love.”

“Good,” I say, biting into mine. “Because I almost bled to death making them.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[edwardteachswombtattoo]

So when we talk about Ed being infantilized, in a lot of ways it's functionally the same discussion we've been having about Ed being referred to as an "aggressive violent angry monster". The key takeaway from both discussions is that Ed is a complex nuanced character whose personality can be broken down and examined piece by piece. The show, as I've said before, doesn't hide its premise and characterization under ten layers of metaphor. If the show wanted us to see Ed as an irredeemable violent monster (for some reason???) the show would have simply given us at least one scene where Ed does something irredeemably violent against a character we're supposed to care about.

"But what about Izzy--" you start to protest. Yeah, what about Izzy? I think people who are deep into the Izzy fandom forget that the average viewer has either a negative or neutral reaction to Izzy. People watching the show for the first time without interacting in fandom spaces usually dislike Izzy immediately, find him mildly interesting but are more invested in what Stede/Ed have going on, or think of him as a somewhat entertaining antagonist and a little sorry for him in Season 2. I think people in fandom forget that 99% of people who know nothing about the show or the fandom itself are not developing an extreme fanatical obsession with this one character. And even people who are critically analyzing certain aspects of this show while viewing for the first time are usually not on Izzy's side. Sometimes when you're deeply entrenched in fandom shit you forget that the average new viewer is not treating Izzy like he's the best character in the show who can do no wrong.

Okay, I'm putting the rest of this under a Read More. Because this got super fucking long. I won't apologize because anybody whose been following me for a while must have realized this by now. Give me a platform and I will yammer.

Ed does not physically harm anyone other than Izzy....after Izzy yells at and threatens him. If the writers wanted to at least imply Ed was physically harming other members of the crew off-screen, they could have done that in a billion different ways. But we only see him threatening them with a gun, then later forcing them to kill him...which are pretty bad, but he never actually hurts them physically. Yeah, he waves a gun at them but he also sticks the gun under his own chin, so...???

We also have several scenes where the crew could mention off-hand that Ed has been hurting them. Surely if that was happening, they would want to talk about it when Ed isn't around! Instead some of them express concern for Ed (Fang's comment about how he's never seen Ed like this before, implying that Ed's behavior, especially having zero reaction to Ivan's death, is out of the ordinary) and also concern for Ed and Izzy's "unhealthy relationship" (again, none of the crew are expressing concern for what Ed is doing to them, they're just complaining about having to go on so many raids and throw away treasure). We can draw the obvious conclusion: the show does not want us to think Ed is being violent towards other members of the crew, only that he's cut off more of Izzy's toes. And as I said before, the average viewer isn't centering Izzy as the most important best guy in the show and Ed as some kind of evil monster for harming him. In other words, Ed's behavior towards Izzy is clearly not meant to be taken as an indicator for what he's doing to the rest of the crew. It's only Izzy, the guy who directly antagonized him.

And, just as a reminder, Ed finds out they've been hiding Izzy, that Frenchie didn't kill Izzy like Ed ordered him to and Ed does absolutely jack shit?? They ignored a direct order from their captain and nothing happens?? Ed doesn't even kill Izzy himself! He doesn't punish anyone for directly ignoring his orders! Again, this would have been a perfect chance for the writers to imply Ed was physically harming the crew in some way...but they didn't, so we have to assume he's not. It's not even implied Ed did this before his breakup era! It's apparently unusual (unusual enough for Fang to remark on it) for Ed to not care about Ivan's death!

Ed very rarely hurts people unless they deserve it. He doesn't even defend himself when the fisherman guy pushes him to the ground and yells at him! And even when they deserve it, sometimes he doesn't! He decided not to kill Ned Low and, as stated before, he didn't even defend himself against the fisherman! If the show wanted us to think Ed was an angry irrational monster, they had so many fucking chances to show that. So I think it's pretty fair to assume we are not supposed to think Ed is an irrational angry monster. Most of his anger is very rational, actually. Even when he has a big outburst (smashing the chair) it's calculated and he immediately removes himself from the situation to calm down. And when Stede talks to him a moment after? Ed is just pouty and rightfully angry, he's not violent or threatening.

The infantilization of Edward Teach, rather than running counter to this, often incorporates some aspects of it. Fanon of this kind often depicts Ed as a violent adult-sized toddler with emotional regulation issues who needs to be "managed" (often by Izzy or Stede, sometimes both) and attacks/kills the people he cares about at the slightest provocation. And even when Ed isn't depicted as a violent toddler in this kind of fanon, he is instead depicted as someone who can't take care of himself/basic tasks without a white man's help.

And I just wanna say, it's not inherently racist to depict a POC as an abuser or as an evil horrible person. That's literally fucking fine.

Spoilers for The Locked Tomb book series

I absolutely love The Locked Tomb, a book series filled with lots of deeply nuanced and complex characters, most of which are POC. And one of the central and most important characters in the series is an indigenous Maori man called John Gaius who literally killed billions of innocent people and has a problematic relationship with almost every other character he interacts with, mostly because of the whole "killing everybody on Earth and becoming God" thing. He's a very nuanced complex fucked up person with trauma and mommy issues and there's no way around that in the narrative.

Okay no more spoilers for The Locked Tomb

I'm mostly pulling this out as an example of like, yeah you can write characters (including indigenous Maori men) as being fucked up people who do fucked up things. It's literally fine.

But...that's not what's happening with Edward Teach in OFMD. You know all that stuff I just said about (REDACTED) from The Locked Tomb? Yeah, those are all things he canonically did. If you're writing fanon about a POC (especially if you're treating it as canon) and it runs completely counter to how they are depicted in canon and it's heavily centralized on racist stereotypes usually aimed at indigenous men....yeah, that's not just "having fun with fanon". I don't need to tell you guys why Twilight and its depiction of werewolves was problematic about Native Americans, do I? I don't need to explain to you guys how depicting indigenous men as angry violent murderers needing to be "controlled" by civilized white men is deeply fucking racist, do I? I don't need to explain that it's racist even if you're doing it in a work of fiction, right? I don't need to explain that constructing an entire fanon based partially or entirely around the concept of an indigenous man being a violent adult-sized toddler who abuses his white boyfriend especially when he's not depicted like that in canon is extremely fucking racist, right? Right? RIGHT?

For the record, I'm not saying you can't write fic or make art about Stede taking care of Ed. Write about Stede braiding Ed's hair and painting his nails and soft domming him into oblivion, I don't fucking care. But you can write fic about Stede braiding Ed's hair without implying/stating that Ed can't take care of himself. You can write fic where Stede comforts Ed after a long day without implying/stating Ed can't take care of himself. You can write fic/make art about Ed being a beautiful pampered princess without implying/stating he needs to be "managed". Why does it need to be "Ed can't do this for himself, he needs Stede and/or Izzy to do it for him?" as opposed to "Ed can do these things himself, he's just choosing to let Stede do them because he trusts and loves Stede so so so much?"

And yeah, let's be real here. There are people (including POC) who need/want to be taken care of or helped with basic tasks. There are high support needs and low functioning autistic people, for example, who happen to be POC and need that kind of help. But we all know that's not what fic writers and fan artists who depict Ed as some kind of helpless toddler have in mind.

[returnofeternity]

grow a garden has also been my addiction lately:)) every time I play I always think of modern au teen!Lottie playing, that and I have an in-game pet deer so when I see them my mind just goes “LOTTIEEEE” automatically. I think she probably would have enjoyed playing cozy farming games, or just games with farming features in general (Minecraft, stardew valley and animal crossing I’m looking at you)

DUDE ME TOO. i just hit 2b coins 😎

the concept of dating lottie and being friends with her on roblox....having each other in the bio too. <3

she doesnt mess around on it. she only has roblox installed on her phone just so she can have it open when she cant be on the puter 😭 it's ur own PC you bought with your money too but she kicks you off because it's easier to play on it 😒

shes kind of like a mansplainer when she talks to you about it...😭 especially if you don't get it. tells you how to plant correctly and what the best seeds are because ur NOT doing it correctly ofc >_> but she's suchhh a good gf and gives you those frozen candy blossoms and a bunchhh of freebies so you can gain coins 😊 its so cute seeing her avatar jump toward you 💗 and she will constantly rejoin games until your farm is next to hers!!

and i know her farm is PERFECT. she has everything so organized and it doesn't even feel cluttered even though there's like hundreds of plants. she came crying to you when someone used their robux to steal one of her crops too 😭 was so butthurt and reported them and everything. you tried to give her one of your strawberries to make her feel better </3

kinda like a guard dog and tells off 'noobs' who wanna scam you by trading dog shit items lmfao.

she would LOVE to make a stardew farm with you omfg are you kidding???!!!! she spends ages planning out the name and what theme she wants to do!! she takes the farm life very seriously.

and i know charlotte matthews takes character customization seriously as well.

laughing just thinking about lottie telling you how much she hates cheaters in the game but you find out that she has mods installed to make the game easier 😭

lottie who likes to game next to you <33 always brings her computer to where you are and resumes gaming. she loves showing off her work to you and just likes you being near her while she's basically silent for hours just farming n shit. its ur bonding time <3 thinking of things like hugging her from behind on the bed while she builds your Minecraft house bc you suck at building ❤️ lottie who facetimes you while you're at work or in class because she needs your help deciding what to do or build next ❤️

she likes to leave little presents for you to find when you get on too!! she leaves flowers in your chests, spells out "i love you" using your favorite Minecraft blocks, gives you her extra diamonds, steals one of your sheep, leaves a sign on your door that says "gay."

think she's so the type to feel bad about abandoning her villagers 😭 it's been months since she's used her switch for anything other than Mario kart, and she wont even boot up animal crossing because she'll feel even worse for seeing them after neglecting them for so long lmfaooo.

thinking about lottie who has her own lil fashion business on roblox.... she makes her own clothes and shit!!!! she shows you her sketches for new ideas and it's so cute :( she's almost a robux millionaire

[eldritch-spouse]

hey Pinniee.......so i recently stumbled across a new..........certain interest of mine.... and that may ormay not be gettting exteremely turned on when i drink and am encouraged to drink.....I feel like Gallon would like this for obvious reasons but....are there any others that mayhaps....indulge this certain interest of mine? the remasters are brilliant!!!! by the way! you're truly an amazing artist and i find myself thinking of your characters and world semi frequently (especially in unrelated situations and im just like????okay but theyd match my freak<3)

TW: Noncon on most of these

Who likes getting you stupid drunk?

Fank-e is an unlikely candidate, you'd think. But this robot has a particular obsession with seeing squishies out of their mind. That's why he always has stashes of psychostimulants and boosts- Generally many mind-altering substances. Logically, the machine doesn't do drugs, it can't. But it likes seeing you tripping the fuck out of orbit, and stuffing his hands everywhere while you're at it. Alcohol is really no different. Even when you get sick form it, Fank-e's still hovering over you in excitement.

In the same way Jayde doesn't mind buying affection, he also doesn't mind buying you a few drinks for it. Are you sure you can handle Hell's alcohol? Are you? Then show him. Take a few shots with the imp. He's got less body mass than you, so surely... Jayde loves the way you get sloppier with each sip, when you can barely hold yourself together and giggle at all his lame jokes. He likes how he can slide a hand into your shirt and you barely care. You're so pretty like this, letting him take you anywhere, touch you anywhere.

Lacai can and will use pheromones often, but sometimes, it's a bit of a challenge to use other means of getting someone into his hands. Drinks? Oh, he can afford some of the best, he knows places where the ambiance is just right and every glass is served to aesthetic perfection. Oh, just another one, Lacai promises that next one looks even more gorgeous. Take a photo of it, post it somewhere. Not many people get the privilege. One moment you're looking at your drink, the next the world is spinning and his tongue is inside your mouth.

Fasma is a bum. Misery loooves company. He's such a piece of shit for dragging a pretty thing like you down with him. Really, you've got a lot to look forward to, kid. You're not like him. But if there's anyone he'd love to have some drinks with, it'd be you. You're just too gorgeous, let him treat you to the finer stuff, make this old man some company. He's totally not grinning watching you get wasted, totally not going to slip his fingers into your skirt and watch you slump all open. Yer such a lightweight, he'd feel bad stealing from you even if he didn't like you.

Liter is heavy into alcohol. You're talking about the slime that got Gallon into his craft. Liter plies anyone he likes with drink and good vibes, he's a great talker too, so you're bound to stick around. While he's careful not to give you something crazy, what he does offer is sure to have you blackout hammered. It burns your throat but it burns so good, doesn't it? Yeah that one gets him in a mood too. You poor thing, come closer, he'll hold you so you don't fall, inside him...

Shags isn't a drinker. Buuuut, he shares a similar fascination to Fank-e, in a less intense manner. There's something about seeing the way you transform before his very own eyes, Shags always stocks up on the drinks you like, excitedly following your drunken rambling and engaging in your shenanigans. Please, have all you like, he can afford it, and it makes him so happy to see you so satisfied. Even the way you hold the glass is beautiful... He waits until you pass out somewhere, and promptly lets all his built up arousal seep off him like waves. You're in good hands, rest well...

Caius does enjoy getting blood drunk. And here's a funny thing- You don't even need alcohol to get drunk with him. Just let him feed a little too long and you'll see, that funny little lightheaded feeling that takes you over. He does so love caressing you in that state, singing your praises. Caius does, however, like joining festivities with his own drink, though always encourages you to have more with a blood-soaked grin. Oh what a joy you are like this! He loves jolly people- You're a magnet. And may the heavens damn him if the Magister isn't making the most out of it. Dance, dance with him...

Vorticia is a refined woman -When she's not pigging out at the table- She's incredibly fond of Gluttony's wines and whiskeys and all that good stuff. Flavored alcohol is especially to her tastes, and she knows you'll enjoy it too, you have an eye for this after all. There's nothing like long conversations across the halls, watching you stumble on shaky legs like a doe, until the Queen is carrying you to your chambers, still holding a glass to your lips. Doesn't she spoil you? Don't you like this?

Dishonorable mentions

Mooncalf. Everyone knows fae are indulgent, trapping you with food is common, but so is offering good alcohol. While Mooncalf is not typically the fae type you'd associate with liquor and such, he still delights in occasionally getting you drunk. You already belong to him, so why not celebrate, always?! Be jolly, be wild, be crazy with him, dance like a butterfly under the moonlight with him!

Rinx. He loves to watch you eat, he also loves to watch you drink, no wonder he likes watching you get drunk too. He's more excited and curious than aroused, but it's only a matter of time until he starts pawing at you, particularly if you're the type of drunk that gets a little frisky.

Patches and Stitches. One is a desperate opportunist, the other just likes to embarrass you, a match made in anything but heaven. Patches will subtly keep edging you new drinks, Stitches sloshes shots in his head and dunks them into your mouth like a horror show. You're wobbling your way into their hands regardless of who's piloting....

Cero doesn't so much enjoy the drunk part as he does the wardrobe malfunction that follows. Your helpless state as you slump there barely capable of making a phrase, dress askew, bra peeking, hair unkempt. You're hopeless. And he's steaming alive.

[rokkucha]

crashing out over hiroaki nakamigawa being genuinely the best bpd rep i have ever seen in media. i’ve been in this fandom for barely 3 weeks now but he’s already come to mean so much to me as a character and i’m so so attached to him, like i will never stop being amazed by tetro danganronpa and how honest it is when it comes to underrepresented topics that are an uncomfortable reality for so many people that never really get to feel seen that way.

(impassioned analytical rambling & tons of spoilers ⬇️)

so many things that often get glossed over in fiction or get left implied are CONFRONTED in tetro, bluntly and unapologetically, while showing the consequences in a way that’s so raw but still so empathetic. especially things like the less “palatable” aspects of disabilities, like how dissociation is fucking annoying and severely inhibits your life and makes people see you as helpless when you cant even do anything about it with ojima, and how humiliating it can be to ask for help even when you really REALLY need it with kamimura. especially gendered issues like misogyny in teen girls’ home lives and being forced to grow up too quick with watari, male relationship abuse, its normalization & dismissal, and its effects on self esteem (not to mention when combined with child abuse) with yanagi, and how strong women realistically often have to become strong out of necessity (rather than just being built different girlbosses by nature) with hayashi. tsuno was also an amazing portrayal of ongoing successful recovery while at the same time one of self-imposed pressure and burnout.

then there’s some that become more apparent with outside perception, like isono getting straight up mischaracterized for being A Woman and not having enough screentime to be really understood, and sasaki. oh my god sasaki. sasaki being a victim of SA in school, then vilified for taking on a MUCH needed leadership role in an otherwise unruly group of equally scared teenagers, and fuck, of course she did some awful shit, but she was scared. all of them were. and hiroaki, her most dedicated hater, was the only one to realize that wasn’t who she truly was afterwards and empathize with her.

hiroaki specifically is such painfully and uncomfortably realistic bpd rep, but honestly? it’s a needed perspective. definitely for me, at least. a lot of the vile shit both other characters and fans say about him, real people in my life have said to me, and he’s not exactly recovery goals by any means but god dammit he is TRYING when all odds are against him and holy shit is that difficult enough as it is. he’s trying so fucking hard. i saw myself in him, a version of myself that struggled and felt how he felt, and i was rooting for him the whole time. i cried with him and i cheered when he made progress and i got emotional when someone empathized with him and was patient and forgiving like i wish someone had been with me.

what i love especially about hiroaki is how well-rounded he is in terms of bpd portrayal. he doesn’t just have splitting episodes or obsess over an fp or have super black and white views/opinions, but he also has horrible self-esteem issues that he hides behind an exaggerated ego and lashes out to hide how much he cares and feels crushing, overwhelming self-hatred because of things other people say or think. and even then, we see the less discussed aspects of more acknowledged symptoms with him too. when he splits, he feels immense remorse after. case in point, the sheer horror he felt at the end of [low talk]. he still sometimes tries to make things right where he can even though he can’t stop self-sabotaging. he has moments of kindness with multiple people to varying degrees of closeness.

and despite all this awful shit happening to and around him, he is making a valid fucking effort and god i will always defend him for that. he’s emotionally self-aware and he has goals and values and he cares about people in his life even if he’s bad at showing it. sure, he’s trapped in bad habits and a bad lifestyle, but also… he’s just a kid. he’s 17 years old doing and believing and enduring things no one should have to at that age. he’s been on his own since he was even younger too.

people fault him for backsliding in his attempts at Being Better but that is so fucking unfair, because it is never that goddamn simple. ever. you hear “recovery isn’t linear” just about everywhere, but it’s so rare to see that process explored so thoroughly in fiction and when it’s just brushed under the rug to make him out to be an irredeemable villain because it’s annoying or not entertaining enough, it’s… so painfully real.

the [stairwell] episode in particular was fucking brutal for me. i’ve been him in that situation, except instead of someone like tamba it was someone much closer to me than that. it was such a personal gut punch hearing her scream at him that he just can’t be a better person no matter how hard he tries because that’s just who he is. because he doesn’t want to change bad enough, because he’s innately selfish and cruel and evil and doomed to die alone and unloved. and he stands there and takes it while she hits him everywhere it hurts most, and while i will acknowledge tamba is just as scared and flawed as the rest of them, she says some of the most deplorable shit to him a person can say to someone until he just can’t take it anymore and proves her right. and just like that, he’s regressed back to square one again.

and tamba is never held accountable for how horribly she treated people, or even truly acknowledges how fucked up what she said to hiroaki was. it’s not even clear if she realizes the depth of it. that part is uncomfortably real for me, too. tetro is such peak fiction dude because the only reason i can’t like her is personal beef with her actions related to me and not her.

anyway i’m a shameless tetro glazer, hiroaki is my beautiful & beloved bpd princess, and everyone should be nicer to him and should also keep in mind that some of the shit you say about fictional characters you could inadvertently be saying about someone close to you as well. this fangan is doing something extremely rare and extremely valuable, and at the same time creating such a vulnerable space for people, so always be nice & be considerate <3

[electraslight]

Okay but Barbarian heritage being systemically oppressed down to the Schooling System does a LOT for the unexplained "Willow was in the Abomination Track at first" Good jump off point to ask about Bump, does he have a defined arc in your version of TOH? Since he goes from strict to being a rebellious, supportive icon. If you've already talked about this forgive me I forgor

Bump, to me, is a lot like Darius, in that he is a person who wants change and will work to enact it, but over the years has lost hope and turned to nihilism, thus becoming complicit with the system.

Unlike a lot of other characters in TOH, Bump is old enough to remember what life was like before Belos's reign. He's always been a revolutionary; he built Hexside off the back of a rival school as a child and when Faust was installed, he had to become complicit in the Emperor-backed teachings of his boss, because he would have lost his job otherwise. And once he regained his position as the principal, those ideas he'd spent years having to teach with no sign of change were subconsciously etched into his mindset around education, especially because it seems like Hexside has always been deemed the 'bad' school for rejects and kids with issues too big for other schools, and when funding is the biggest factor in your brain, you forget that those kids need help and don't need to be shafted into a 'respectable' mold.

Bump's mind shifted over time from giving overlooked kids the care they needed to the funding he needed for Hexside and pressure and respect from Emperor-allied families like the Blights, and all of that being everything he thought about over the course of his life led Bump to being obedient and the cog in the machine he'd never wanted to be, because he didn't see a way for him to enact change, and in his own hopelessness, he dragged the kids down with him.

Just like Darius, it didn't take a lot for Bump to change. He's always seemed to like shit stirrers and troublemakers, and Luz and Eda both shook him from the haze of hopelessness he lived in, but because discrimination is baked into the Isles school system at this point, Bump had to do a lot of work reconstructing a school where students didn't just grow up to be numbers on a graph, but thrived and made change themselves.

[latexb0n3z]

I’ve seen a lot of criticism aimed at Season 8 of 9-1-1, but honestly, this was one of the most emotionally impactful seasons for me—especially because of how it handled grief. People are picking apart Athena’s reaction to Bobby’s death, calling her cold or angry—but real grief isn’t always graceful. It can make you bitter, irrational, even angry at the person you lost. Bitter, even when you still have people who love you. That doesn’t mean you loved them any less. It means you’re human. Bobby was someone that meant a great deal to everyone. How could you POSSIBLY say Athena’s character isn’t gonna be likable without Bobby and she’s doing too much…. HER HUSBAND DIED. 🤦 SHIT AINT PEACHES AND CREAM. She literally lives everyday of her life with trauma from shit that would kill most people, she’s a badass character. Just when the mfs started living and planning retirement, dude just takes a bad call and DIES. Of course she’s gonna be fucking mad at him for dying 😭 cuz bitch why are you leaving me? Why now?

Others are saying the characters didn’t grieve “enough,” but that take misses the reality of loss. When someone you love dies, the world doesn’t pause for you. You still have to show up to work, feed your kids, pay your bills. Life doesn’t stop just because a huge part of yours did. It’s just the truth. You could be having the shittiest day in the world and people will still get in their cars and go to work, get shit done, and sleep to live another day when the sun comes up in the morning. Especially a POLICE OFFICER and firefighters, like cmon…

And as for the Buddie complaints (valid—I wanted it too,) from a neutral pov—really? These men are dealing with trauma, grief, and emotional survival in different ways 😭. Expecting them to dive into a romantic arc in the middle of all that feels tone-deaf. They’re trying to stay afloat. You think they’re just gonna pause to make a “bedroom ham sandwich” in the middle of this chaos?

This season might not give everyone the shit we so were hoping for—but it gave us something more honest, or at least realistic: complicated grief, and the resilience to keep going anyway no matter how it can change you after.

[teslasucks37]

CW: NSFW below the cut (MDNI), ScarletSpider!Reader, afab!Reader (No pronouns), Powerless!Charlie, KindaPathetic!Charlie, SlightStalker!Reader, PowerImbalance!Dubcon, No verbal consent but no also no verbal rejection, Virgin!Charlie, College Age Characters, Mentions of Verbal Harassment/Bullying, Sub!Charlie, Dom!Reader, GoodBoy!Charlie

A/N: Holy shit wrote this in like an hour and was jerkin it the whole time!!!

Charlie Slimecicle x SpiderPerson!Reader

A Hero’s Reward

You were supposed to be a hero, a good person.

Saving people was part of your entire gig as Scarlet Spider.

And you certainly never asked for anything in return, no matter how many times people insisted.

So why now?

Why, when all you did was scare off a couple of bullies, were you finally cashing in?

Well, because it was Charlie.

He’d been cornered by some people from your college, calling him a nerd, a loser, whatever.

You both thought that name calling was only for high school bullies, but apparently you’d been wrong.

But hopefully, since the Scarlet Spider had stepped in, they wouldn’t bother him anymore.

He’d thanked you, and shyly asked if you could escort you home since it was so dark out.

You, of course, accepted.

What kind of a hero or best friend would you be if you made him walk alone.

If fact, you picked him up and swung him all the way back to his dorm, crawling in through the window and landing safely on his floor.

He seriously could not thank you enough.

He looked so cute, flustered and red from the adrenaline of being so high up.

But then he said the words.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Those words coming from his lips were what sealed his fate.

You grinned wickedly, Charlie thankfully unable to see it behind your mask. “There might be… Something you could do for me…”

He wanted to thank you, so why should you stop him?

You’d been protecting him all his life, so it was only fair that you got a little something back.

And the adorable hard-on he was sporting from being so close to you during the journey here only encouraged you.

So you unzipped your suit down the middle, all the way to between your legs, gazing at Charlie the whole time.

His face was flushed, body frozen in place as he watched you stalk toward him like a predator.

And when you slowly pushed him down onto his desk chair, he didn’t object.

He did exactly as you asked, so obedient for you.

His eyes were glossy, lids heavy as he watched you tug at his jeans, a tiny wet spot leaking through his boxers.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been doing this, considering the power balance of you being a hero and everything.

And also that you knew who he was, but to him you were someone in a mask.

But the whimpering sound he let out when you sank down on his cock made every worry vanish.

“Oh~ Fuck!” Charlie whined as you bounced on him.

You knew he was a virgin, but you didn’t think he’d be so responsive, so cute.

His head was thrown back, his hands gripped your waist in an attempt to ground himself.

You couldn’t help but moan, feeling him hitting so deep inside you.

He was much bigger than you thought he’d be, not that his size could turn you away from him, but fuck it felt so good.

You needed this, you needed this so bad.

Being a hero was stressful, on top of keeping up with school, family, friends, especially your nosy little Charlie who was constantly asking you to hang out.

You sometimes watched him a little more than the average citizen.

How could you not?

He was your friend after all.

That’s just what friends did for each other.

And maybe you had passed by his window to check on him and once or twice accidentally caught him touching himself to photos of the two of you.

And maybe you had laid back against the wall outside his window, putting your hands between your thighs and listening to him moan for you.

“Fuck, Char~” You mumbled absentmindedly at the memories, your hands slipping up his neck to tangle in his hair.

But he tensed at the nickname, your nickname, and you slowed your movements to a halt.

Shit.

“How do you…” Charlie murmured, his babbling ceasing from your slowed pace.

“God… Fuck it…” You cursed, before peeling off your mask and tossing it on the floor.

Cute and small bruises littered your flushed face, your hair messy and your eyes wild from the rush of everything.

But he could recognize you anywhere.

Charlie’s eyes went huge, taking in the sight of you, his best friend, being Scarlet Spider.

“You… You’re- Mmph~” His words were cut off by your lips, his eyes going wide again before closing and leaning into the kiss.

“I don’t… Wanna talk about it now…” You mumbled into his mouth between the clashing of teeth and tongues.

His head spun, knowing you’d basically manipulated him.

But maybe he wanted you to…

Maybe he’d wanted you to take advantage of him the whole time.

He’d liked you for so long, at this point, he didn’t even care how it happened.

He was simply thanking whatever god may of may not have been out there that you’d wanted to fuck him at all.

So when you began bouncing on him again, he moaned into your mouth, bringing a hand up to your back to help you move up and down his shaft.

You were so warm, so tight, probably flexible too…

His head ran wild with fantasies of you webbing his hands up, holding him down with your inhuman strength, helpless as you used him for your pleasure.

And in a way, that’s exactly what you were doing now.

You panted as you pulled away from Charlie’s lips, grinning at his foggy glasses that now sat slightly crooked on his face.

But he didn’t seem to notice, eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open as he seemed lost in his own realm of pleasure.

You bounced faster, holding his shoulders and trying your absolute best not to hurt the frail boy in front of you.

But he just felt so good, so so good.

So good, that you felt your legs start to shake, you thought for a moment that it was exhaustion from patrol, but the way your core tightened around him told you that you were going to cum.

You needed it so bad, you needed to cum on him and use him and make him feel good all at the same time.

And you knew Charlie would sit there and take it like a good boy.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, causing him to whimper at the slight pain.

But the way he subtly began to thrust into you, hitting just the right spot to make you cry out, was what made you see stars.

You felt your hips stutter on top of him, slamming down once more before pulling off of him and squirting on him.

The sight and sounds alone made Charlie’s cock twitch, before a strangled moan fell from his lips followed by ropes of cum spurting from his tip.

You let out a moan of exhaustion, before taking a seat again in his lap, now drenched with your mutual fluids.

Charlie’s tight grip on your hip and back didn’t release, in fact, he fell forward into the crook of your neck.

You threaded your hands in his hair, silently promising him that you were here, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Do you wanna… Shower or something?” He mumbled softly into your sweat-drenched suit.

You snickered, before pressing a kiss to his head and nodding.

Yeah, that was exactly what you needed…

[liarvibe]

This ask grants you permission for one (1) uninterrupted yap session.

Wise usage not recommended.

You know what--since we were talking about it before and stuff, I'm going to talk about something I've personally experienced in this fandom and have been witnessing others experiencing it currently as well--and that is this fandoms utter lack of acceptance for the "weird" and "abnormal" takes--or what they ACTUALLY are--takes people just don't agree with.

This mainly pertains to my and an friends theories and analyses that have been scrutinized for years at this point, but it also pertains to a new theory about Byakuya Togami being Mentally Unwell that I've been on and off reading.

And the hate certain people have been giving this theory.

For one thing, I actually like the theorizing done by @duhhtheyellowrose. It showcases a different, interesting, and most importantly, extremely valid interpretation of Byakuya! Again I haven't had the energy lately to read everything they've been writing, but what I have read has given me a much greater appreciation for Togami as a character because before, I thought of him as a very flat, prideful rich kid who's whole character arc was bruising that pride and bringing him down to earth. Not a bad arc, but just... simple, kinda boring. I love deep dives like this into a character's psyche and really thinking about their motivations and thoughts and feelings. What I HAVE read of Yellow's theories has done exactly that--it's given Togami more depth and dwells on the rather harsh pressure he grew up with, and what exactly that can do to a person's mind going forward.

Like yeah, actually, Byakuya having to fight his half siblings to be the chosen heir, no matter how you spin it, is really fucked up! That kind of pressure and strive for perfectionism does horrible things to a person's mental health, especially when they falter and crumble in a way that isn't their picture-perfect self.

And yet. Once again, there are people going off in this fandom insisting that Byakuya Togami can't be 'suicidal'. He just can't be! Nevermind the horrible statement that is, saying that a person in any position Cannot Be Suicidal, because even the Happiest Person on Earth can have suicidal idealization--it's just blatantly disregarding an interpretation and saying it's "mischaracterization" simply because you don't like it.

Also, I've seen people go so far as saying that giving Togami mental ailments or making him a more complex character is making him. Softer? I'm sorry that you have this idea about mental illnesses that makes you think people with them are "softer" and less of an asshole just because they have a reason to be an asshole, but also no I'm not sorry, please actually think about what you're saying. You're saying that people who are assholes cannot have a reason to be an asshole and thus othering people you deem as "jerkish" or even "evil" just because you don't want to admit they are human.

This is just one example of how this fandom can jump through horrible mental hoops just to justify their "take" on a character--but also hate on another take they don't agree with or like. It's the same shit I've talked about before where people infantize Gonta to make Kokichi look like more of a monster than he actually is. Because if Gonta is a big stupid dumb monkey who Kokichi manipulated, it makes things easy--bad guy gets to not be a Person(tm) anymore ("So I get to hate him as much as I want and feel justified in hating him") while the Poor Innocent Babu gets to have their Purity and never be wrong, ever. ("So I feel justified in liking this character without having to tackle the idea that maybe they did something wrong because they cannot be blamed and I cannot be wrong!")

Don't you guys see how utterly boring that is? To simplify characters to the point where they're not even people? Like sure, sometimes you need a character who is a Symbol and doesn't need to be anything more than that for narrative purposes... but like. These characters aren't meant to be symbols of evil or assholery or whatever. They are meant to represent a person with thoughts and feelings and ideals, with dreams and heartbreaks and complexities that make them unique as an individual.

I think making post after post trying to "debunk" someone's interpretation is just making you look like an asshole. I think fighting over what interpretation is right vs what one is wrong is jsut not the play.

Like--in the Undertale fandom! If someone had an interpretation you didn't like? That's an AU now! See, isn't that more fun? Now you can engage with the interpretations you don't agree with in a more constructive and positive way. It's also the first step in accepting different interpretations without them having to be "AUs" because it promotes critical thinking and acknowledging that Literary Analysis is actually an art, not a science. It's never factual. It never WAS. Literary Analyses (or writing metas/theory crafting as the kids call it these days--like Literary Theory is why it's called Theorycrafting, people!) is all about interpretation of text, and there is no objective way to do so. It's all subjective!

I maintain the sentiment from my theory blog, to my old personal, to this one--No analyses done in good faith are ever "wrong", not unless you are: 1. Doing a meta to hate on something, 2. including bigotry in your meta, or 3. otherwise being malicious (whether intentionally or unintentionally so).

If you correct yourself when you make a mistake (in that you display unintentional malice or bigotry) and aren't actively being an asshole, then any and all interpretations you come up with is correct! So is the person who's come to the opposite conclusions as you. Yes you are both correct. No it does not matter how opposite they are from you. No it doesn't matter if their interpretation changes the whole character from your perspective.

You can dislike it, but accept that it's valid. Move on. Or, maybe analyze the other interpretation with a open mind--maybe you'll actually come to like aspects of it! If you just hate on it without giving it a chance, you'll never know.

So yeah. That's what I'm gonna yap about with this ask. Hope you guys don't mind!

[melrosing]

AFFC is where I believe the redemption thing loses a lot of people because Jaime is upholding the regime rather than dismantling it. But I always want to ask them dismantle it how? it's so stupid

okay but that's the thing because in a way: that is what Jaime is trying to do! pushing once again my unfinished Riverlands essay bc I am very interested in this part of his story, especially the role it plays within his redemption arc, but in wider fandom it often gets misinterpreted as a detour.... which has made for some really frustrating takes lmao.

if you will humour me for a second though I want to pose to ppl what the avenues available to Jaime actually are at this point in the story. Jaime is not Sandor Clegane: he cannot just leave everything behind and assume it'll all be fine without him.

the situation in fact: ur evil dad has just died, leaving House Lannister essentially irreconcilable with its enemies. the realm has been devastated by the war. who is in charge of it all? ur eight-year-old son, a sweet kid who could be a good king in the right hands.... but is ofc currently in the hands of Cersei, who is.... well. Stannis, the Riverlords, the vestiges of the Starks, and a bunch of forces you're not even aware of want and your family dead to a man. and you are the lord commander of the kingsguard, who would like to 1) fulfill ur oath to Catelyn, 2) protect your family, 3) not make anything worse than it already is and 4) ideally make things better! what do u fucking do?

OPTION 1: literally just leave this sucks so why not just leave! you are an eminently recognisable man and so is your son but what if you just walked out of there and let whatever forces move in in your wake. Stannis probably gets there first (you don't actually know about Dany or Aegon) and he wants you dead, but maybe if you shave ur head (wait that didn't work last time did it) and dye your son's then....??? ok sure. so now you're living in the woods, the realm may or may not fall back into chaos, ur days are pretty numbered, and this isn't even a good story, is it. cool !

OPTION 2: refuse to have anything to do with a continued war against Starks and Tullys and try and advocate for them at court oh god u really thought that would work. your dad murdered Robb and Cat Stark at a fucking wedding. they do not want to be ur friends, they want u dead. they will arm again in a heartbeat, and that's your family done for. also good luck talking Cersei round on this. or anyone really. edit bc oh and also! if you do just want to sit this one out and refuse to get involved with the siege at Riverrun - some other goon will jump in and end it violently for you. so you've basically done nothing but allow it to happen. good for you!

OPTION 3: mitigate and restore what u can your son is a nice boy who likes books and always does his best. you think that if you could surround him with the right people, he might rule well. you realise Cersei is a liability, and plan to have her removed from your son's counsel. you plan to rebuild it with better people. you realise that the realm is starved and in ruins: you want to prevent war, and you really don't want to break your oath. however, many of the riverlords and northerners are not ready to kneel. you treat with those you can, and wring a peace out of the Tullys by saying the right words in the right voice. your reputation takes a hit and readers cannot understand the chapter for shit, but Edmure Tully accepts terms of peace. you cannot restore the Starks, but you can try and save the last of them: you send your gf on a secret mission, and when she comes to tell you that you have a change to help (lol), you go with her.

THE CATCH: none of these fucking work because your dad fucked everything up so bad that everyone wants your family dead and noone wants to be your friend. even though you ended the siege at Riverrun on peaceful terms, that's only going to last about five minutes. you may be trying to save Sansa Stark right now, but god knows what's about to happen to your own kids while you're not there. you're fucked really. there's no single right thing you can do right now except follow what you believe is the best, most realistic thing to do in the moment and see where it leads. shit. that's how you ended up spending 14 years in the woods with brienne waiting to meet zombie Catelyn while Game of Thrones botches your ending and podcasters call your story the limits of redemption. fuck !

[breadandblankets]

"Bruce Thomas Wayne!" the roar of a cycle cuts off abruptly and the yell rings through the cavern of the batcave.

Batman, suited up for the night, freezes stock still where he was reviewing some notes.

He turns, slowly, to greet his mentee.

"Hello Duke," he says as the Signal stalks forward.

"Fucking tell me when you put something new in my kit." Duke looks angry, an uncommon sight all things considered, especially pointed at Bruce. It happens, every now and then of course, they're all human.

Bruce wracks his brain for what of the changes to Duke's kit he could be referring to and coming up blank. No matter.

"I did," he states.

"Nuh uh," Duke shakes his head. "We ain't doing this,"

"I don't know what 'this' is."

"Yes you do, you do it to all of us," Duke crosses his arms over his chest with a very pointed look. It's the look Duke usually gives him when Duke thinks Bruce is a moron. "Now admit you were wrong."

"I-"

"Ah! Head like a steel trap fucker," Duke says, tapping his temple. "I know my rights."

Bruce sighs, while he's pretty sure he did tell Duke, there was still every possibility he didn't. And knowing Duke, the kid was probably right. The intensity of this conversation however, speaks of a story, and probably an incident.

"What's the damage?"

"Wayne Tech data center #2"

"Oh," that will be a fun report to read. "Good."

"Yeah, good, now only you get to pay for your dumbassery."

Bruce nods in agreement.

"Noted."

"Scared the shit outta me man," Duke tosses his hands in the air. "Tell me! Next time!"

Ah, there's the real issue. Bruce nods again, making a mental note to send all of the recent changes to Duke after this conversation.

"Will do."

Duke gives him another look, and sighs a little under his breath.

"Finish the sentence," Duke says. "I'm not your mama."

"No," Bruce replies, with a hit of amusement. "I imagine not."

"Funny, now..." Duke waves his hand in Bruce's general direction, as if to prompt him to say his lines over.

"I'm sorry Duke."

"Good," Duke claps his hands together and smiles widely at him. "Have a nice night!"

Duke's a good kid, will be an even better man. Even when they're yelling at each other, Bruce can never be any less than immensely proud of him.

He can't wait to see who he will become.

"You too," he says. Then, because he remembers that Duke's probably hungry after patrol: "There's leftover enchiladas in the fridge."

"Fuck yeah!" Duke punches a hand in the air.

There's a lull in sound in the cave for a moment before Bruce hears talking from a little bit away.

"Oh hey Jason," that's Duke still, probably putting away his gear in his batcave locker.

"What the fuck did you do?" Jason replies in a furtive whisper-yell, still more than audible to Bruce.

"Going to have to give me more than that."

"B just apologized, B never apologizes." Ouch, Bruce thinks. He's not that bad is he?

Is he?

"Who are you?" Jason continues.

"Skill issue," and Bruce can hear the smirk in Duke's voice.

"No, wait, get back here!"

[raayllum]

gonna keep this 'brief' for once in my life:

blanket statement i think it's crappy to publicly post private DMs clearly sent to you in confidence In General. this is true no matter the person or situation! i think it's deeply shameful that anyone would think that having personal DMs publicly shared is remotely okay, let alone something to be supported or sympathized with and not like, a huge violation of trust, privacy, and feelings of personal safety. even if i hadn't broken away from OP for other reasons, this alone would've been enough to make me go wtf is wrong with you and, provided they couldn't be convinced to treat the other party like a human being deserving basic respect, block them flat out. it's absolutely abysmal behaviour towards anyone, but but especially private DMs of someone having a breakdown and being so overwhelmed they couldn't stop shaking (both things you were explicitly told after the fact but well before posting). that's not to say everything was expressed perfectly, but i think we can all agree that having a breakdown does, generally, impact your ability to communicate.

with that out of the way, more under the cut bc i also don't put my weird fucking personal bullshit in the main tags

moreover, shaming people with a social communication disorder asking for social communication accommodations (i.e. can you tell me what i did wrong with specific examples so i can have a model to base future interactions off of in terms of doing better, esp since when i've guessed/tried on my own in the past i've gotten it wrong? something i've often been too scared to do with people bc i don't know them well, and asked you bc even if i no longer self safe with you, i thought i owed it to you to try) you then refused to do and said i was using my autism as an excuse (which partially triggered the breakdown in the first place because then i couldn't explain, ask for help, or advocate for myself in any meaningful way) is also not great. especially when what happened is pretty goddamn textbook autism vs everyone else communication in the first place.

assuming that every time someone blogs about a relationship on their own tumblr blog after blocking you everywhere is vagueblogging is also like... weird to assume you're the only relationship i have in my life that could be in conflict (another friend recently had some conflict, so i was commiserating) and also weird to circumvent and step over a block boundary on a routine basis to begin with bc we've definitely never had a troll do that to harass us on a regular basis, no sir. i came This Close to not seeing the post at all bc i've insulated myself so well and don't have people running to tell me the second someone maybe breathes wrong in my direction, and i honestly feel bad you've spent a Lot more time thinking about me than i have you. or that when calling ppl stupid you've also told them to shoot themselves in the foot but sure. it was silly to feel like your behaviour was contradictory and confusing and to ask for clarification, or to assume you'd leave me and my blogs the fuck alone after i'd made it clear i wanted nothing to do with you; i honestly wish you'd done the same, i can't imagine anyone going into the fandom tags wanted to see any of our shared crap.

last but not least: i think it's slightly bananas to look at someone who left a space because they realized they weren't a good fit for it because their best efforts weren't good enough at keeping things smooth, which was entirely on me, and then a relationship, where it wasn't entirely, bc they realized you really struggled with communicating things in a mature manner (ie. ghosting my partner who was also friends with you despite them not being involved at all and without a word because you just Assumed we were shit talking you, i guess, when in reality i was asking them for advice about how to apologize and they had to point out to me you were being mean because i was still taking everything in good faith) and figured out that whatever i did you wouldn't take it well so it was better to cut my losses and block (after days/weeks of agonizing over what, if anything, to say to you that wouldn't possibly make things worse)... only for you to then not take any of it well and do This?

This, from nicely saying i needed more space from you (only telling you so you wouldn't think i was ignoring you bc that would be cruel out of nowhere to just not respond to messages at all), and then you took it poorly (the way you apparently take everything) and then when i apologized/clarified that it was to work on myself and not an ask of you in any way, you were still aggressive if not downright cruel. even Before doing this, which is really the cherry on top.

if i had a nickel for everyone time someone 1) lost their shit about me blocking them, 2) routinely checked my blog or had had someone keep tabs on me on a regular basis for them (bc that's not creepy or invasive at all) even on my non tdp related blogs, 3) posted a callout post while not actually naming me but making it exceedingly evident that it was about me and 4) publicly aired personal dirty laundry in all the main tags so hard 5) that you couldn't have played the victim more, i'd have two nickels. this is a playbook i have seen before from someone who in some ways did far worse to me (it was an emotionally abusive relationship) and far less in comparison, but it's the same playbook of someone who cannot and does not respect boundaries & cannot handle feeling any negative emotion without lashing out for... what? the last laugh? to make someone a pariah or to punish? i can't imagine being that cruel. i can't imagine being that petty and disregarding another person as a person so deeply. after all, i withheld sending any messages because with each one i drafted, i asked myself it was to help or to hurt, and realized if i couldn't do the former, i shouldn't be sending anything at all.

it's safe to say that not sending more messages was the right decision made to protect myself from accidentally giving you more ammo. in some ways i'm admittedly relieved bc this exact sort of thing was something i was anxious about for weeks, but was entirely keeping to myself bc it was 1) nobody else's business and 2) wanted to believe OP better than that as someone i once loved and trusted; surely, they'd be a mature reasonable adult and while we'd both wounded each other, they wouldn't twist the knife; i certainly wouldn't. in many ways, though, this was even worse than whatever nightmare scenario i'd come up with. i've never had my privacy so directly violated, and i wouldn't wish it on anyone. i still wish i'd been wrong about my inclinations when i stepped away after facing repeated aggression no matter how much i apologized or betrayed myself till i couldn't anymore, and had a select few loved ones reaffirm to me that you were never going to see that maybe you'd made some, even one, mistake along the way, like sitting on your resentment i was unaware of till it reached a boiling point. clearly, they were right.

that said, i hope publicly humiliating someone and violating the trust and privacy of another human being, a friend who trusted you, who never would have done this to you, got you whatever you needed. at least one of us should get something productive out of this, and for me it was shreds of certainty that you've chosen to behave exactly as awfully and pettily as i feared, and honestly that's really unfortunate. you were/are really talented. i'm sure, despite our history, you can be an amazing friend to others. i'm sure you can incredibly understanding and kind; you just chose to be cruel and defensive instead, and i hope you never burn a bridge you regret being unable to repair

cause fuck, while i am far from perfect and am the first to admit i've made plenty of mistakes i have sometimes been unable to adequately atone for (i'm sure plenty of people will rightfully unfollow and/or block me and they absolutely should — whether they find me unsavoury, annoying, condescending, or anything else i've had thrown at me — in order to make their internet experience a better, more positive place) i sure as hell have never done and will never do you've done to me, and i can find a solid ground in that if nothing else.