#if i die PLEASE make memes about it

[magnificentmicrowave]

You are honestly insane to make light of an assassination attempt. Regardless of political side. You do not incite violence. And don't say this side does this and that side does that. Look at their side. Listen to what they are saying. Compare and contrast. Leave the insanity behind and be completely neutral and unbiased for a change. Listen to both side. If you do not like it. Leave that side be.

i hope ur DMing this to everyone who is making memes abt events that involve people dying and not just me

[bitegore]

Motormaster was fine.

The repairs were just itchy, was all, and they ached a little, but it was tolerable. He was a tough mech. It was fine. He might've been a bit fragging... stupid, earlier, sure. Everyone made mistakes. How was he supposed to know that the bits of kibble on the barrel of the gun would catch like that? Besides, he'd thought valves were tough.

Eh, whatever. He shifted uneasily in his chair, closing his thighs on the cold pack he had pressed to his groin, and focused in on his paperwork. He'd assigned Wildrider to do these reports- a mistake- and Drag Strip to clean them up- a worse one. Breakdown, possibly the only useful teammate out of his collection of stupid, frustrating glitches, had done his best to fix their illegible garbage, but Breakdown was no better than the rest of them. Motormaster already had a helmache brewing.

Through the door of his quarters he could hear Drag Strip start to laugh. Then Wildrider. That was never a good sign. He got to his feet and bit back a wince, and then stuck his head through the door.

Oh. Okay, whatever. They were both clustered around the little screen Breakdown had rigged up, snickering. Ah. So it was The Internet, then.

Much as Motormaster thought it was a waste of time, siccing his half-clocked teammates on the various denizens of The Internet was better than siccing them on each other. Plenty of other team leaders had thought the same, far as he could tell. Swindle was never without a screen these days. And besides, after Megatron had used it to trick the Autobots about secret Decepticon plans one too many times, the Autobots didn't even pay that much attention to what they were dong on there anyway, since it was always either stupid nonsense or tactically-relevant misinformation.

[inlovewithifsvns]

Did I make this blog just so I can post a wallpaper I made for my MC for @infamous-if? Maybe

Phoenix Cadence: he/they

(The large quote is from the Given movie, just adjusted to be related to Phoenix!)

(More stuff in the tags)

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, baby - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.1k warnings: none? the slightest bit suggestive at the end but like... it's nothing author's note: part two to this fic! i would recommend reading both for it to make sense :)

You haven’t seen Vernon in four days.

You haven’t seen him since he kissed you — and he’d kissed you a lot.

You’d barely managed to finish the movie without making out on his couch like teenagers. And when it was over, he hadn’t asked you to stay — but he’d kissed you again by his front door. 

You’d texted when you’d gotten home safe, as he’d requested. Then you’d woken up the next day to a ‘good morning :)’ text, which was swiftly followed by ‘today is so busy I might die’. And then the two of you had just… moved on. 

He sends a Shrek meme and then disappears for hours; you laugh react or send a meme in return. He sends you a picture of a “gnarly” squirrel he sees on campus; you send him a picture of a shitty doodle you drew during one of your lectures. Neither of you brings up what happened. You know he’s got a project due at the end of the week, so you don’t push when his texts are few and far between. Even though you so desperately want to. 

Is he thinking about it as much as you are? You can’t get the feeling of his lips out of your mind, and it’s driving you crazy. You want to kiss him again, want to run your fingers through his hair again, want to feel his hands on your waist again.

But you remain in limbo. You don’t ask for an explanation — he doesn’t offer one. And you don’t know how much longer you can ignore it. 

Vernonie [8:34pm]: INCOMING VIDEOCALL

Your eyes widen when your screen lights up. You quickly straighten from where you’d been lounging on your couch, tucking your hair behind your ears and hoping for the best. He knows what you look like, you remind yourself, but that doesn’t help the nerves when you finally accept the call. 

“Hey, stranger.”

He looks cute, and it makes you sick. 

“Hey,” you reply, and you can feel your cheeks heat up for no apparent reason. All he’s done is say hello, but you haven’t seen his face in four days, and the last time you saw him you were —

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, and then you can’t help but blurt out, “You’ve been busy.” It comes out accusatory, and you regret it immediately. 

Vernon looks surprised, and you watch as his eyebrows raise. “Yeah, I had that big project to finish, remember?” 

You nod, avoiding eye contact through the screen. “Right.”

He’s quiet again before he says teasingly, “If you missed me you can just say so.” 

You know it’s an attempt to lighten the mood, but it hits so deep all of a sudden that you think you might cry. Did he not miss you, too? 

You know it’s a cheap move, but you absolutely cannot look at him when he tells you that the kissing had meant nothing, that it was all a mistake. That you’re better off as friends. 

“Hey,” he says when you shift your phone so that your face is just out of sight. You can practically hear his pout. “Come back.”

“I’m just gonna go,” you say weakly, and you can see in your peripheral vision the way Vernon sits up straight. 

“Hey, no. Wait. Please come back? Let me say something.”

You bite your lip as the tears well up. It takes you a minute, but you manage to take a breath and set your phone back upright to look at him. 

“Y/N,” he says gently, and you can see his soft smile through the screen. “Bro.”

You can’t help but smile a bit at that, and he takes that as a sign to continue. 

“Did you think I was avoiding you?”

You shrug. 

“You think I kissed you and then avoided you on purpose?”

Your heart stutters over itself a bit as he says the words out loud. When he puts it like that, you suppose it sounds a bit silly. Because it’s Vernon, and he would never be so cruel. You shrug again, but you still can’t find it in you to speak. 

“Kissing you is probably all I've thought about for the better part of the last few months,” he continues, and your eyes widen. “I wasn't deliberately avoiding you, I just... I was busy, that part’s true, but it seemed like a good time to give you some space anyway because I know you get into your head sometimes, so I thought that would give you some time to process…” He trails off, a hand running through his hair before he adds, quieter, “You know. In case you…” 

“In case I what?” It’s the first time you’ve spoken in a few minutes, and you can practically see the way Vernon’s shoulders relax at the sound of your voice again. 

He pauses, and then he says softly, “In case you regret it.”

Your eyes widen. “You think I regret it?”

“Do you?”

You shake your head, a bit dizzy as you return, “Do you?”

Vernon’s lip curls up at the side. “No, Y/N. I don’t.”

You’re processing, and he’s quiet as he lets you. He doesn’t regret it. He wanted to kiss you. He… 

It’s silent for another moment and then you say, voice small, “But you didn’t ask me to stay.” 

“Baby,” he says, and your eyes widen. “That’s definitely not because I didn’t want you to. Like I said, I was giving you space.”

“Baby?”

Vernon freezes. “Shit, sorry. Fuck—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, and he relaxes a little. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, and you nod. A smile spreads across your lips, warmth spreading through you as it really, truly dawns on you — Vernon likes you back. 

“Yeah,” you affirm. “I think I much prefer that to bro.”

“Yeah?” He says again, and you smile. You’re just realizing now that he seems nervous too, and it makes you feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy inside.

“Mhm.”

You stare at one another through the screen. Vernon’s grin spreads the longer you do, and even though you know your cheeks are flushed, you don’t stop the staring contest. He narrows his eyes, and you let out a giggle. 

“So…”

“So,” he repeats, and you watch as he adjusts to lie down on his couch. “I finished my project.”

That was not where you thought this conversation was headed. “Oh yeah? Good job, bro.” 

Vernon raises his eyebrows at the name, and you flush again. 

“It’s habit,” you whine, and he puts on an exaggerated frown. 

“That’s fine,” he sighs dramatically, “I was going to say that I can hang out with you now that my project is done, but I can see I’m the only romantic one here, bro.”

You gasp. “I can be romantic!”

Vernon grins, and you immediately know you’ve taken his bait as he teases, “Really?”

“I can!” You insist, and he just smiles even wider. 

“Want me to come over so you can show me just how romantic you can be, baby?”

TAGLIST: @tae-bebe @wheeboo @waldau @iluvseokmin @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @seohomrwolf @pan-de-seungcheol @minisugakoobies @wqnwoos @gyuminusone @christinewithluv @darkypooo @lvlystars @bewoyewo

[sharlinefreire]

ok, there's a famous meme in brazil about house md and i don't know if there is an english version for this meme, so i'll try to translate as best i can:

every episode of house md is like

> the patient arrives the hospital.

> the patient is a prostitute or a religious fanatic.

> dr. house attends the patient. she's very sick.

“dr. house, we don't know what to do!! she's bleeding from her eyes!!”

“do the exams, you idiot”

> dr. house will talk with the patient.

“you're stupid. fuck you.”

“dr. house, i hate youuu!! please heal meeee!!”

> cameron, chase and foreman come back to the room.

“dr. house, all the exams were negative. she's gonna die in 2 hours if we do nothing!! will be game over for her.”

“hmmm... game over... oh, there's a gameboy in her ass, that's the problem!”

“dr. house, you're an idiot, but we will check if there really is a gameboy in her ass.”

> they found the gameboy in her ass.

“oh my god, dr. house!! you were right. how did you know that?”

“the gameboys pikachu edition released in 1997 had an iodine-based battery, which if inserted in the butt makes your eyes bleed”

> the patient, cured, enters in the room.

“i was wrong about you, dr. house”

“fuck you, you're a whore! life is pain!!”

> dr. house go to lunch and flirt with dr. wilson <3

> the end.

[cyberels]

thinking about modern loser!ellie as ur gf :3c

modern!abby version here!!!

requests are open btw please i’ll write for ellie or abby

18+ sfw & nsfw

-> sometimes she’ll send u random ass pictures she finds funny

-> does the thing where she pretends to swerve off the road while she drives cuz it makes you laugh

-> she SPAMS you with tiktoks

-> every time there’s video of an old guy on her fyp that has 2 likes she’ll send it to u and be like “thought this was joel”

-> the guy looks nothing like joel

-> pretends to have a fear of thunder so she can use every thunderstorm as an excuse to cuddle you

-> “babe i’m so scaredddddd please😣😣😣 im shaking”

-> CANNNOT keep secrets from u

-> she’ll plan surprise dates and when you ask where the two of u are going she’s like “…nowhere…”

-> she’ll have to be silent the entire drive because if she speaks she will immediately reveal entire date

-> she HATES cringey pet names

so obviously you call her them all the time

-> she’s in line to buy smth and she’ll ask u for her wallet and u’ll hand it to her and say some shit like “here u go baby snuggle bear🥰”

-> the look she gives you LMFOAODKSLDKDDK

‘😦’

-> literally looks like u just killed her first born

-> does that “i hardly know her!” joke all the time

-> if no one laughs at her jokes she’ll tap on her hand and be like “uh, is this thing on?”

-> she thinks this is peak comedy

-> she’ll find silly things throughout her day that remind her of u

-> she takes pics everytime she sees a heart shaped object and sends it to u

-> absolutely has to get u a little treat or gift when she goes out, candy, flowers, etc. anything u might like she WILL buy

nsfw ‼️ 18+

-> SENDS U STUPID ASS REACTION MEMES AFTER U SEND NUDES

-> omg u and her buy stuff off adam & eve sometimes so she signed up for texts

-> and every time she gets a text she’ll send u a screenshot like “great news babe the butt blaster is 40% off!”

-> when y’all first starting having sex she’d be so awkward 😭😭😭😭 she couldn’t take herself seriously

-> eventually warmed up and started getting more confident

-> ellie williams is a sub i’ll die on this hill

-> but she’ll def try almost anything at least once to see if she likes it

ok that’s all for now love u all

masterlist

[funficwriter]

Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!

A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!

Warnings; None, really.

Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)

Lyney

First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!

If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.

(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)

Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.

He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.

If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.

"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."

Lynette

It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.

She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.

She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.

Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.

"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".

She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".

Neuvillette

You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.

For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.

First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.

He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.

(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)

If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.

While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...

"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".

Navia

She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!

If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.

Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.

Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.

She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.

With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.

"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".

Furina

"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"

Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.

She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!

One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.

She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.

"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"

If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3

Wriothesley

"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".

Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.

Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".

So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.

"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".

I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜

[star-girl69]

i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔

no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)

okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE

she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU

she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself

like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you

she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol

but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!

and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP

and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”

excuse me????

“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”

“DIE”

she just laughs and takes your shoes off

she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you

clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat

“did you eat today?”

“babe you SAW me at lunch”

“just making sure….”

you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!

she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side

bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔

when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF

bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”

and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????

she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!

anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear

and an emotionally stunted caveman

she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you

idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)

so she quickly adapts to do all these little things

if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand

QUEEN of opening jars for you

if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you

also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.

like that one meme

“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”

“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”

also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup

finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER

like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head

you make it seem so effortless

she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy

so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..

also she’s constantly bragging about you

“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”

ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane

“yeah y/n is so pretty”

“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”

even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.

will she stop? no ofc not

she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words

loves kissing you all over

KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭

anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me

she’s just always touching you

hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere

hand around your waist

SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES

no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating

if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together

whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want

so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing

will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED

she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly

she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.

on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you

partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep

if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit

she’s a super light sleeper i feel like

always on the guard fr ✊

a little bit better when you’re there tho

so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep

like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?

hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop

you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

[xiao-come-home]

PLEASE PLEASE PPLLLEEEAAAASE GIVE ME HEADCANONS OF BOOTHILL WITH AN INSECURE CHUBBY S/O. I KNOW THIS MAN WOULD SHOW EXTRA LOVE AND KILL ANYONE WHO MAKES FUN OF HIS BELOVED

Oh wow hehe twirls hair did you just call me out in this ask because its so me 🧐 some are a little sugg/estive but yea, you ask and I shall deliver 🙏

Boothill does not care that you're chubby at all - quite the opposite, he loves it! He genuinely thinks you look gorgeous, but most importantly, he's obsessed with hugging you and how soft you are! It gives him the fuzzy memories and reminds him how much he misses his old body.

Boothill does not tolerate yours or - aeons forbid - anyone else's bad comments about your body. Sure, he might laugh at some jokes you make, but once you take it too far, he gently reminds you that you're just as human as anybody else and should respect yourself! He won't judge you either, I mean - you're dating a cyborg, so if you love him for who he is in and out, he'll do the same.

Boothill might be a little too happy to touch your love handles at any occasion he gets. He's a little bit of a chubby chaser (like Itto, but it ain't about him) in the best way possible, he really likes to just... Grab stuff. Especially if it's about you.

Boothill might not be that good with words, but will always reassure you that he truly just loves you, regardless of how you think about yourself. Boothill will scoop you in his arms, kiss your cheek gently and wipe your tears if you truly feel down about your looks that day.

"Listen up, sweet pea," Boothill smiles at you softly, "all I can see is absolute perfection. Ya might not feel the same and it's fine - but I promise ya, pretty thing, I'll never get tired of seein' these beautiful curves."

He's definitely willing to prove his words with actions, though..

Try prying away Boothill from your thighs when he gets to them, I dare you. God, he loves, fuck, LOVES everything about your thick thighs. Having them as pillow, having his face squished between them... He jokes it's his only place to die the second time (💀). He just might go insane if you wear shorts that emphasize your revealed thighs.

He might just be laying between your thighs when he recharges. There's no reason to it, he's enveloped by two warm pillows and he's on cloud nine. Deal with it.

You may not notice, but Boothill sometimes just drools over you. If you're chubbier in the butt - he fights himself internally not to pull you from behind by your shorts against him and shamelessly grope you. Chubbier tits? He's almost barking when they spill from your bra. Chubbier stomach? God, the way some of your clothes stick to it, it makes his head dizzy. A little bit of everything? Good, he wants it all. Just sit on his face and stop talking.

Boothill might short-circuit when you sit on his lap for the first time because any aeons out there, this is heaven. Literally just marry him on the spot please. He isn't letting you go once you sit down. He's literally the "let's fucking go" meme afterwards.

You just have to slap away Boothill's hands in public from time to time because this man's hands slowly progress from just holding your waist, then firmly holding your hips, and traveling to finally hold your ass.

Though, when someone dares to speak something that makes you doubt yourself even more, let alone make you cry - things are going to get violent. Boothill won't let it slide, and on top of that, he's fucking pissed off. Boothill will hunt them in every lifetime.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part one max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( next )

One of the things Max Verstappen despises about being Max Verstappen is being Max Verstappen. Three time world champion, youngest race winner, mad max, f1 dominator, all the fame and media and people following him around. It's very hard to get a moment of peace or be treated normally. When people hear his name they either put on big smiles or ugly frowns. He hates the special treatment.

He misses when he could have a conversation without people recording or judging him. Without people whispering about him, or fake being his friend for whatever fame. When people would just spend time with him for the sake of spending time, or having a conversation for the sake of friendly socialization and conversation. Luckily though for the Dutch, in this day and age, Max could just enter a spare email in Discord and make a second lowkey account.

The pfp was a random photo of Max, a meme. Lowkey enough, Max decided after staring at the profile long enough before opening DiscoBoard. After scrolling and searching, he was dawned upon with a relatively small server with only 280 people online, surrounding sim racing. After he followed instructions on the welcome page like verifying he's not a robot and picking roles, he got his first ping. 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max met you in August of 2022. The way you talked and messed around with him got him constantly checking his phone for notifications over the next months. The way you befriended him and were relaxed around him once the two of you got to know each other, it kept him sane. And although Max didn't really reveal a lot about himself except that his work required a lot of traveling and effort, you trusted him enough to share about your own life up in France, ranting about your weird encounters as an employee at Cisco.

The blonde’s favorite part about getting home was plopping in his gaming chair and switching his Discord accounts. Pulling his headphones on and navigating through the server, he joined the active voice chat. It was as if he was switching lives, turning off Max Verstappen to be an irrelevant 26 year old.

“A millioooon.” you sang like you always did, a nickname you’d given him since amilian sounded like a million. 

“Laaaaa.” Max sang back with a chuckle before greeting the other acquaintances present on the call. 

“How was your weekend?” You hummed. 

“Same as always. Maybe a bit shittier this time.” He sighed, seeing you were on Gran Turismo from your shared screen. 

“I’d love to beat up someone for you.” You always offer when he’s down. The blonde would laugh and shake his head even though you can’t see. You never cease to bring him a smile with your tone and jokes and hearty aura, despite being kilometers up north. "We're waiting for Josh to take a few rounds around spa, you wanna join?" 

"Oh, yes please." friendly racing with no consequences, points or championship? just friends messing around and enjoying themselves? Yes please.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You see the new verstappen photos that just dropped, Mr. Max Verstappen nerd?" Max looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at your dm chat where the two of you decided to move the call once everyone else put down the steering wheel for the night.

"This one is from Bahrain I think . . . you know, I'm starting to take a liking to him." Max rolled his eyes playfully at your words. "To be honest, I was kind of disappointed this weekend." Max rubbed his eyes, looking up at your profile picture. 

"Why what happened?" He asked even though he probably knew all too well the events of the Australian grand prix.

"Max DNFed on the third or fifth lap." You sighed. 

"Oh yeah?" Max hummed, pursing his lips, not wanting to recall the memories. "What's so bad about that? I thought you were a die hard Charles fan?" he asked. 

"Excuse you, I'm a die hard Fernando fan." You joked in a sassy tone which pulled a chuckle from him.

"What is it about Max DNFing that is bothering you then?" Max himself asked, putting his phone down to concentrate on your voice. 

"I just don't—" you sighed deeply. On your end of the call you rolled back in your chair, getting up and flopping on your bed with your phone in hand.

When you did answer his question, all Max heard was mumbles because your voice was muffled by your pillow. "Can't hear you, La. Aren't you happy about the Carlando podium? You were so happy about it last year." 

"I am happy, I am. But Max . . . well Max . . . i don't know." you grumbled frustrated. "He's such a good driver, and deserves a lot— he works really really hard."

Max never thought he'd hear you talking about him like that. He'd usually hear other people on the server dissing him and cursing him. And although you were always mostly neutral with the drivers, the way you spoke about Max tonight melted his heart. It also felt very wrong.

While you turned and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling of your room, venting your feelings about a driver who you thought didn't know you existed, said driver folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms listening to you vent about how much you were amazed and proud even though you don't know him personally or him not being your favorite driver.

Max glanced up at his monitor as you sighed to gather your thoughts. "Sometimes when i look at him, he reminds me of myself. I never really got to go past karting, but for some reason I see a little bit of y/n in him." 

"—Y/n?" He sat up hearing the name. 

"I—" You face palmed upon the realization.

 "Is that your name?" Max asked. You nodded briefly with a sigh but he couldn't see.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "Weird name, I know—" 

"I like it." He reassured. "It's not like Amilian is any better." he tried to lighten the mood, working slightly. 

"A million." you giggled making him chuckle back. 

"A million, " he repeated quieter, a small smile on his face as he leaned his chin back down on his arm.

Such a foolish thing to do, taking a liking to a woman you've never met.

Voice notes . . . ( my brain is like a zoo rn, starting projects and not being able to track anything while working on everything at the same time ) Word count - ( 1, 165 ) credits for proofreading -> @classiclitfreak (check out their blog!!)

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.

ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.

‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.

‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.

And neither of them had an answer.

Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.

“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”

“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”

“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”

“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.

“Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.

One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”

You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.

Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.

The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.

The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.

“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”

“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”

“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.

“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”

“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we��ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.

“No.”

So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.

“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”

“DRAGON!”

Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.

“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.

“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”

Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.

There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.

And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.

It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.

Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.

“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”

Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.

“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”

The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.  

“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”

The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.

You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”

The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.

It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.

Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.

“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”

After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.

“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—

The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.

“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man­. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.

He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.

And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.

You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.

A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.

“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”

“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.

The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.

“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.

“Uh,” you said again.

“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”

Your head was swimming.

“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked, slow and serpentine.

“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.�� He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”

You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsunotarou?”

He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.

“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”

[batbux]

It's forty minutes into the latest state of the company press conference and Bruce has had to mute his mic entirely to avoid being turned into a meme AGAIN for sighing too much at his own event. For all that he's spent almost 20 years coaching his own children on not making scenes, he's really not much better. It's hot and he doesn't want to be here. His ribs hurt. He's tired. He's hungry. He's every excuse Dick or Jason have trotted out over the years.

(Tim understands company manners and can almost always be trusted to stick it out as long as he's allowed to vent his frustrations afterwards. He's recently taken to smashing ugly thrifted dishes. Stephanie and Damian have been collecting any ceramic not entirely pulverized and turning them into pavers for Alfred's garden.)

(Bruce gave up after Tim. He really only needs one kid to tag along to social events. If the kid start to outnumber him they start getting IDEAS.)

His distraction is why it takes two very rude repetitions of his name for him to take notice at the young reporter pushing his way to the front. Lucius stands, cutting off the project manager currently presenting and speaks into the mic.

"Please keep hold all questions until the end of the presentation, thank you."

"Mr. Wayne," the reporter tries again and Bruce waves away Lucius's further protests.

"Can I help you?" He asks, smiling with the full force of Brucie Wayne's charm behind it. It's been awhile since his last scandal, but if the press is inventing drama then it's less work for him.

The man holds up a photograph almost accusingly. He reeks of gotcha journalism.

Bruce squints towards him, unable to fully make out the contents of the photo. Dick may have been right when he gently suggested Bruce add glasses to his Brucie Wayne persona but that was a hill Bruce was still willing to die on. It was bad enough he had to have a prescription COWL.

"What do you have to say about the presence of your adopted son, Timothy Drake at the illegal mob in Robinson Park last Saturday?"

"Drake-Wayne," Bruce corrected because Tim hyphenated, damn it. He was the first of his children to let Bruce tag the Wayne name on and it mattered, damn it. "Wait do you mean-"

"How about reports of him kissing a man while there?"

"A blond man?" Bruce asked, finally giving up and crossing to take the photo for himself. "Oh. No, that's his boyfriend."

There was a beat of silence before Bruce realized his mistake. Just as the reporters began to squall, he dropped the blurry photo and began to speed walk off, phone suddenly in hand.

Through the podium's microphone, the gathered reporters heard one thing as Bruce evacuated the immediate vicinity.

"Tim? Don't be mad."

---

Despite Bruce's best efforts, he becomes a meme.

---

Immediately following the bombshell that Timothy Drake-Wayne had a boyfriend, social media blows up, clamoring for more information. They're ravenous for it, desperate. Tim doesn't have a personal social media presence but they stalk his professional accounts religiously. Bruce does have personal social media, but he maintains radio silence.

In the end, a Gotham based "influencer" stumbles across Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne getting donuts at Kosher Donuts and Co. Dick is personable, as always, and stops to speak with the young woman briefly.

"Yeah, Tim wasn't mad," he laughs when asked. "Just disappointed. But man, he knows how to milk it."

"Bruce is in the doghouse, huh?" she asks, full of false sympathy.

"A little bit," Dick says as Damian mumbles, "Titus would never share."

"But," Dick continued. "Tim's spun it so Bruce is on the hook for like, half a million in donations for local LGBT charities. Tim says it would hurt less if he sponsored a new shelter too, so that's something to look forward to."

"That's a lot of money! Where's it all going?"

"Oh you know," Dick says and gestures vaguely. "A lot of different programs."

"Yeah? Anything you personally want to see done with the funding?"

"Drag story time," Damian answers before Dick can. He looks intense. "But not for children. For dogs. In the shelter."

---

A day later, Tim breaks the silence. He goes live on Bruce's Instagram.

"So the problem was that Bruce thought the reporter was saying I was being unfaithful," Tim explains. "He totally forgot I wasn't out to everyone yet. Bruce was just worried because he's already told me if I break up with my boyfriend, he's not uninviting him from any future family events."

"Luckily, I was in fact just kissing my boyfriend at PRIDE. Just because people got shifty with the permits at the last second because of protestors doesn't make it an illegal mob. If you wanna hear about Wayne's and illegal mobs, talk to Dickie about his younger years. Nothing I do can compare."

[feministfang]

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!!

Just recently, an Indian woman’s brutal rape case shook the entire world to the core, Indian women are out on streets protesting and fighting for her justice, women everywhere are scared for their lives and angry, but men somehow made it about themselves once again.

These shameless south asian men are making and sharing disgusting dark memes on social media about the victim and cracking jokes, but women are not even allowed to speak a word against these bastards cause the pick me pricks won’t stop bringing their swords in, protecting these men who should be lynched to death.

All men are busy "nOt aLL mEning" like always, but women can’t point fingers at them because "i hAvE hUGGeD mEn yOu gUys thEy’rE grEaT"

In India, one in every three women is raped every minute, but let’s not blame all men, it’s just a fEw oF thEm. PlEaSe tHinK bEfoRe yOu sPeAk!!

Men are happily cheering on the victim’s death and going on with their privileged lives, but let’s give them a tissue paper because tHey’re sUbjEcTed tO thE sAme tUrmOil tHe wOmEn fEEl. 🥺

South Asian men are number one in the list of all trash men and yet these dumbfucks cannot stop worshipping their ugly dicks. But enough is enough now!! This happens every time a woman goes through something worst. Every single time the pick mes and their favourite m@les pop out of their garbage dumpsters making it all about these mEn. But not anymore!!!!

Please start calling out these type of people and publicly shame them! I swear if i see any other person saying shit like "nOt aLL mEn bUt aLwAys a mAn" it won’t be my fault whatever happens to them next.

I will blame all men because YES IT IS ALL MEN! ALL MEN ARE TRASH! ALL MEN SHOULD DIE!

PS. the last pic is the screenshot from the instagram story of a Pakistani writer, Umera Ahmed! Also, excuse the B slur!

[yuri-is-online]

Criminally Smooth (Floyd Leech x Yuu)

Floyd might have a concussion, but that doesn't mean he can't recognize true love when he sees it, and that halo the bisexual lighting of this cop car is giving you makes him think he might have a chance.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, based off a meme I saw and the song Bonnie and Clyde by Dutch Melrose. Vaguely modern au, hints of a mafia au? Yuu and Floyd are implied to be adults and full of bad decisions. More fic can be found on my masterlist.

“Hey baby, what's your name?” Floyd's teeth are sharp and his smile is weirdly wide, like he's trying to display his mouth for you. “You come here often? I swear I've seen ya somewhere before…” You take a deep breath trying to ground yourself, the metal of the handcuffs should be painful enough to do the trick but the ridiculousness of Floyd asking that question when you're both going to jail is overriding the discomfort.

“We've met before, yeah.” You grumble trying to shift to get a bit more comfortable as Floyd's eyes get wide as saucers in a way that would be cute if that meeting hadn't been him shaking you down for “interfering” with Azul’s business model.

“Really?” He sounds so happy, and tries to move his hands to do who knows what but gets stopped by the cuffs, which wipes away the facade of kindness as he glares down at them. “Well I must have introduced myself-”

“You did yeah.” You try to cut off whatever it is he has to say and try not to die of embarrassment when it doesn't stop him from babbling.

“I've got your number then right?” Floyd begins wiggling to reach for his back pocket and glares when Officer Clover tells him to knock it off. “You're just so fucking pretty please tell me that wasn't just a dream and I got your number.” Are you even talking to the same person?

“I don't think so?” He whines, whines! When you say that and looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “We uh. We weren't. Didn't get much of a chance to talk.” You shouldn't be flustered by this. Shouldn't be thinking that it's sort of cute how he presses up against the bars separating you in the back of the cruiser to try and get as close to you as possible.

“Aww well let me do it again please?” You nod and try not to fluster when he brings back the dreamy smile places his cuffed hands against the bars. “I'm Floyd, sorry I totaled your car, baby.” It wasn't your car but you know better to say that in something rigged for audio. “You free this Saturday? I wanna make it up to you and I know a real great place-”

“I don't think either of you are going to be free this weekend,” Officer Clover isn't even hiding how much he's enjoying this you really wish you could get away with punching him “sorry Floyd.”

“Ignore Sea Turtle, oh hey I don't know your name do I?” Surprisingly Floyd isn't annoyed at all, he's still keeping his mouth wide and gets even more excited when you begin to subconsciously mimic him. “C'mon what's your name pretty?”

“It's Yuu but you kept calling me-”

“LITTLE SHRIMPY!!!” He shouts so loud Officer Clover slams on the brakes out of shock, Floyd laughs as he tumbles around and you try to brace against the wall. “Dawww ya should have just led with that baby, I wouldn't have rammed ya. Not with a car anyway.” The police cruiser lurches again as you feel the tires hit something, slamming Floyd against the door and tumbling you towards the floor. He bites down on the metal of his cuffs making sure to keep eye contact with you as he chews through the metal, winking like he's putting on some sort of show and not at all surprised or afraid that your ride is spiraling out of control. “Remember, Saturday ok? And don't worry about dressing nice I'll take care of it ♡” His door flies open as Officer Clover scrambles for his radio and Floyd jumps out of the tank into an awaiting vehicle laughing the entire time, yelling a few choice expletives at the police commissioner as he goes. You curl yourself into a tiny ball and chew on the inside of your cheek as you try to process what just happened over the angry squaking you hear on the radio.

There's no way a judge is letting you make bail after this.

[elliespassagerprincess]

can u pretty please with a cherry on top make a part 4 to the milf abby 😔🙏🏼💟

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Authors note: Ladies and pookies I'm back! This last week has been the worst and most painful week of my life but, I'm back and better than ever <3

☆ Milf Abby who gets your initials tattooed on her ring finger.

You felt her calloused hands grab your waist as you stood admiring the ring she got you.

“it’s pretty” you muttered

“you’re pretty” she said with a smile

“shut up Abby” you shoved her to the side as you felt your face grow hot.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet you both rarely get with Aubrey

“you know” Abby started “if the bride gets to wear an engagement ring, what about their partner?”

Your brows furrow, at the thought.

“that actually makes a lot of sense Abby. We should get you a ring-“

but before you could even finish you sentence Abby lifted up her right hand revealing the tattoo.

“what the fuck Abigail”

☆ Milf Abby who refers to you as her wife long before the wedding.

“Yeah my wife and I went there”

“she’s my wife”

“my wife likes that show” “you know what they say happy wife happy life”

☆ Milf Abby who buys you white dresses as gifts just to see what you would look like in white, because she really couldn’t wait for the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who’s literally a perfectionist and plans the wedding without a planner.

“No, you aren’t folding the napkins right” “that isn’t the right shade of pink”

☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter to be the ring bearer and the maid of honor.

Aubrey looked at you with curious eyes as Abby placed the box onto her lap.

“dude what’s this?”

“Aubrey I’m not your friend, who taught you that word?” Abby sighed

“grandpa did” “of course he did. He really needs to stop-“

 “Abby lets focus on the box” you interrupted her, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“Can I open it please?” Aubrey asked you, with a polite smile.

“of course she’s nice to you! You little gremlin-“

“Abby!”

Abby felt Aubrey pinch her arm at the gremlin comment

“why would you-“

“ok” you said with a stern voice “lets open the box, you guys can fight later”

sometimes it felt like you were living with children.

Aubrey’s small hands grabbed the box, eagerly tearing away the wrapping paper. In the box lay a simple white dress, with paper rings. The little girl gently grabbed the fabric, inspecting it. She saw the rings and it took her a while to get it.

“I’m carrying the rings?!” she yelled

“and we were hoping you’d be our maid of honor too” you pulled out a basket from behind you and the girls smile grew.

☆ Milf Abby who begs you to let her go with you when you go wedding dress shopping.

“please”

“Abby its bad luck”

“fuck the bad luck”

☆ Milf Abby who sends you thumbs down emoji’s the whole time you were gone.

☆ Milf Abby who doesn’t want to sleep in separate houses the night before the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who sends you cringe Facebook minion memes and jokes because she misses you. This was your first night apart in months, but she knew after tonight she would be waking up with you next to her for the rest of her life.

☆ Milf Abby who barley slept that night. She wasn’t sure if she was nervous or excited.

☆ Milf Abby who gets ready extremely early. Her hair was out of her normal tight braid, and the hair fell to her shoulders. Her black suit hugging her in all the right places.

☆ Milf Abby who starts at herself in the mirror too long, and she suddenly notices her wrinkles, she suddenly notices the grey hairs.

☆ Milf Abby who gets cold feet.

☆ Milf Abby who starts crying because you didn’t deserve this.

You needed someone younger, some who doesn’t have back pains and complains about their joints hurting. Someone who wasn’t turning 50 soon.

Someone who won’t die soon.

You needed more than Abby.

Abby’s loud sobs filled the room as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She should call this off.

“Abby?” her head snapped to the direction of the door. It was her dad. She quickly wiped her eyes, and she sniffed a couple of times. “hey dad” he slowly walked towards her, and he gently sat next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder he muttered “you okay?”

The blonde sitting next to him broke out in sobs, her head fell to his shoulder “oh honey” he breathed as he held her close.

“Abby what’s wrong?” He felt his daughter tremble next to him. “i- I’m keeping her back in life” Abby started, and Jerry just sat and listened to her.

“I’m so old I’m probably going to die soon. Who wants to be married to a grandma? One of these days I won’t be able to get out of bed without complaining. And she’s so pretty and young- she-she deserves everything, and what can I give her? My future dentures?”

“have you ever thought that this is what she wanted?”

Abby lifted her head to what her father said.

“The fact she’s marrying you proves that the love she has for you is endless. She’s willing to look after you when you do get those dentures. She wants you as much as you want her Abby, don’t let your insecurities stop you from being with the love of your life. And yeah, you’ll get old, but she’ll be with you”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to the venue earlier than everyone to make sure everything is ok.

☆ Milf Abby who stood at the altar with sweaty palms, waiting for your arrival.

☆ Milf Abby who started crying as soon as you start walking down the aisle.

 ☆ Milf Abby who couldn’t take her eyes off you the whole ceremony because she realized that this was it. She was marrying you.

☆ Milf Abby who shed more tears than you did during your vows and she cried even more when Aubrey came with the rings.

☆ Milf Abby who practically jumps on you when they said she could kiss you.

You felt her hands grab your face, and she brought you in for a rough kiss.

The crowned screamed around the two of you and you heard the clicks of all the cameras. You felt Abby’s lips smile against yours before she pulled away putting her head against yours.

She whispered “I’ll love you forever”

“I love you too abs, forever and always”

[tomieafterdark]

begging for a dilf! toji or neighbour! toji drabble / fic

pairing: dilf!toji x babysitter!fem!reader

18+ mndi

You were laying down on Mr.Fushiguro’s new plush couch, the cold fabric pressing against your bare lower back, aching for the clock to strike midnight so you could finally go home. The boredom was practically killing you, babysitting on a school night turned out to suck more than you had anticipated. It was only 9pm and his kid was sound asleep, meaning you had around 3 hours of nothing to do. You nearly fell asleep too but the way your phone started buzzing in your back pocket woke you up. You were caught in a trance for a second, you had not had any action for so long, even simple vibrations from your phone made you feel something. 

The buzzing eventually stops and you are out of your trance, back to reality. You arch your back, fishing your phone out of the back pocket of your bell bottom jeans to see what all the fuss is about. It is just the group chat freaking out about something, you decide to check it out. 

You are practically blasted with messages once they see that you are online, nearly making your phone freeze. 

“Did someone die, what the hell is going on..” you think to yourself, trying to scroll up. The constant spamming makes it hard and eventually you give up, waiting for everyone to shut up so that someone can explain what is going on. 

THE GC

Y/n: Now that you guys finally stfu, can someone please tell me what happened??

Friend number one: Okay okay everyone be quiet, I will tell Y/n what’s up. 

Y/n: Go on, I am dying to know. 

Friend number two: sends meme JDSHJDK SORRY I misclicked- 

Friend number one: LMFAO stop it before Y/n kicks you out of the gc. 

Y/n: … 

Friend number one: My bad, okay so Y/n long story short I was stalking the sexy dilf you keep babysitting for and I found some very sexy pictures of him from when he was 22. I kind of understand why you keep babysitting for him now. *skull emoji*. 

Friend number two: Y/n, you are not slick. 

Y/n: I do not go there because of his appearance, but whatever. Go on. 

. 

Friend number one: Yeah keep telling yourself that, anyways I won't keep you waiting here are the pictures. You can thank me for them, because they were the results of my stalking skills.. *spams pictures of a shirtless young Toji partying in Okinawa Island*

You cannot believe your eyes, this man aged like fine wine. You have never appreciated Friend number one as much as you do right now, there are several pictures of a shirtless Mr.Fushiguro on vacation. You quickly save every single one and leave the group chat faster than you can blink, somehow being there made you feel flustered and staring at them alone in your camera roll felt better. 

You feel like a creep but you cannot stop staring and zooming in on body parts, he had this killer body since age 22 if not sooner...One year younger than you are now. You cannot stop imagining what could have been if you had been born sooner, how early 20s Mr.Fushiguro’s chemistry would have been like with you. He seems so reckless and wild in these pictures, you can see the chaotic glimmer in his eyes. 

You had never been able to admit this to yourself, but something about those pictures made you let loose and accept reality, which is that you find him very attractive. You had never seen him shirtless but his shirts were always tight and did not leave enough to the imagination. Though whatever you had seen of Mr.Fushiguro was nothing compared to those shirtless island pictures, they made you feel things you didn't know you could feel. 

The groupchat is very active again, pulling you out of your fantasies about the dilf. You give the group chat one last look to see if you missed any pictures and it seems you did not miss anything, the topic has changed from Toji to something else, and it does not interest you one bit. However, thanks to them, you get a very creative idea on what to do and finally kill some time…

You dim the lights and turn your phone notifications on, unzipping your pants as you slowly slide your phone down there. You keep it on top of your underwear, the vibrations from it are strong enough anyways. You shudder from how cold it is, even though it is not touching your skin directly the cold was enough to send shivers down your core. As the notifications start piling up, you adore the group chat more and more. Their notifications create a symphony and you catch yourself lost in it, buckling your hips to it and letting out small moans here and there. 

Your imaginations become so vivid as you get lost in the ecstasy, so much so that you can faintly hear his voice. It sounds like he is on the phone again, makes sense your brain would imagine him like that since he is always on the phone talking to someone. He does not even talk to you most of the time you get paid, he just hands you the money while giving you a nod and you leave. A sick little part of your mind wonders if he ever checks out your ass while you walk away, and if his imaginations stop there or if they go even further..does he ever imagine abusing those tight little holes of yours? You can not stop your mind, it keeps going further down the gutter, you imagine him using your holes for his pleasure and his pleasure only and it makes you feral. The thought of him filling you up with cum, not stopping after that but simply moving on to your next hole and brutalizing that one instead is pushing you over the edge. You are so close to cumming, completely lost in your own world but just as you are about to climax you feel a big cold hand push your stomach down. 

“I don't think I am paying you to be a whore, now am I?” His cold tone drags you down to earth very quickly, reality starts to kick in and all you can think of is how to avoid getting fired. Your mind is on fire trying to come up with an excuse but nothing comes out. You are so shocked you have not even taken your phone out or anything, like a deer in headlights you stay the way he caught you. 

He takes a seat next to you on the couch, staring at you intensely. He is so tall and huge compared to you, it fills you with butterflies but they are quickly overshadowed with fear and shame yet the lust does not seem to fully leave. Him catching you has made you more wet, you are doing your best at avoiding his eyes as you try to blurt out some excuse but he quickly abrupts you. 

“Don't bother using your empty head to come up with an excuse, just tell me the truth.” Toji reaches over you, fishing your phone out of your pants and you still have not moved. Though your internal dialogue is going insane, you are not saying anything. 

“Hmph..a phone.” He says while fishing it out, the notifications still have not stopped as your group chat is notorious for yapping. He tries to not laugh at the situation, because it was kind of creative of you to use your phone in such a way, he imagines what other things your dirty little mind could come up with. 

“I will take care of that, you will not be getting it back until I hear some explanations for what is going on here, understand??” He says as he turns the notifications off and sets it aside on the coffee table in front of you. 

You give him a nod. 

“So, the sooner you tell me why you thought this was a good idea the sooner we can both be done with this.” 

You eventually catch your breath, and the first thing that comes out is an apology followed by tears from the embarrassment. “I am so sorry Mr.Fushigiro, I know this excuse won’t do but I was extremely bored..one thing led to another and..” You start crying before you can finish what you were saying. Toji just looks at you, not with any understanding or even sympathy but rather like he also has a creative idea on how you will make up for what you have done. 

He gets closer to you and caresses your face. “Hey, it's okay. You are not the only creative one here, I know a way to fix this.” 

He was right earlier when he called your head empty, because you have to be brainless to not understand what he was insinuating. Instead, you were assuming he would cut your pay a few times and have you work for free. “I understand Mr.Fushiguro, I agree with your suggestion.” 

He was almost surprised at you being so open minded, almost but he had seen enough of the world to know when a brainless bimbo was talking to him. He decided he would not clarify what he meant, this would be another lesson on the side, which was: “do not forget to read the room before you agree to things.” He chuckled and said “call me Toji for now, okay y/n?”

You nodded. You were much calmer now, agreeing to everything he said, promising you would take your punishment without complaining, saying you would let him decide the rules and how much pay he would cut off..letting him control everything basically. You were so desperate to keep this job so you were determined to give it your all. 

You glance at the clock just as he is finished talking, it is midnight now so he should let you off the hook. “I guess I'll be going now..” You look at him expecting to give you your phone back. 

Toji just smirks. “Do you not remember anything we just talked about?”

You give him a confused look. “Yeah but it is midnight now, and I have a group project to work on tomorrow…Do you want me to babysit overnight or something?” 

Toji is almost getting impatient, you don't notice of course because he keeps a poker face and hides his boner with a cushion. He pulls up your phone, telling you to unlock it, and as you do he grabs it before you can even gauge what happened. “I will be telling your friends that you are feeling a bit sore and tired, so you will not be able to make it to the group project. Take a seat dear.” 

You do not know what to expect but you listen to him, the desperation to keep this job is overpowering your anxiety which is telling you to run the fuck away. He puts your phone down and gets closer, too close, invading your personal space. 

He stares at you in the eyes coldly. “I don't think you understand what is going on here, I took serious offense to what you were doing on my couch during working hours. I am not the type of guy that lets someone off the hook so easily.” He starts pulling on your jeans as he unzips them, taking them off effortlessly. His reflexes are fast, before you even let a sound out his big hand is covering your mouth. “Shh, little Megumi has school tomorrow. You do not want to wake him up now would you? I will have to prolong your punishment if you do that, so be quiet for me. Got it??” 

You nod frantically, what the fuck was this situation and how did you even get yourself in to it. You stare at your jeans now on the black carpet, that same carpet you sat on with Megumi earlier today while playing video games. You close your eyes, hoping this will be over soon. 

Toji is not in the mood to prep you, the little whore who decided to masturbate during working hours does not deserve that luxury. Instead, he flips you on your stomach rather quickly and holds you in place with an iron grip on your waist. Toji is hypnotized by your curves and back dimples, his gaze taking it all in hungrily as he is teasing both your holes with his tip making it hard for you to guess which one he will use. If only you had seen how big his cock is compared to your waist area because it would have made your stomach drop. You try to gauge his size while he teases your holes, just to kind of prepare yourself and know what you are in for..also you are praying to whoever is out there that he does not fuck you in the ass. It was so hot to imagine it, but now that he has you under him all vulnerable and mildly scared it feels different. 

He spreads you apart, his tip resting at the entrance of your cunt. He teases it slowly by barely inserting it instead of just rubbing like he did before, getting much more of your slick on it and making you quiver in the process. He keeps doing this until he has enough of your wetness, and then moves on to your other hole. You may be an airhead, but it ends here. You know exactly why he did what he did now, you can feel him pushing the tip in, your own wetness is working pretty well as a lubricant because a good bit of his tip actually goes in and it feels kind of good even though it hurts. You have never been this stretched before anally, and it's making you tear up a little. You shut your eyes hoping he won’t go there, the tip may feel good but you know he would not go easy and it would quickly go from anal to painal.  

God was a little kind to you today because Toji decided to punish your tight little cunt instead of your even tighter ass, however nothing could have prepared you for his size. You try your hardest to not let out a sound as he made it clear he could prolong your punishment, but you want to scream and cry so bad. What is worse of all is how a part of you was enjoying this situation, a sick part of you loved how he was conquering your body with or without your consent, how he was stretching you out so bad no one could fill the void after him. How he was leaving his mark in every single way. You could not help but arch a little, if anyone were to take you by sheer force it would be him, he was made for it. 

Toji has no mercy, he is slamming your hole with brute force. The friction from the couch is getting to the exposed parts of your body and the couch does not feel so cold anymore. The more he continues mercilessly punishing you, the more that sick little side of you takes over. You are starting to slightly enjoy the pain, so much that you become noticeably wetter. The squelching sounds were getting louder, and he heard it which prompted him to say “there is the whore I caught spread out on my couch earlier, I knew you were in there somewhere, just had to dig real deep for you.” in a husky voice, that tone and those words he said made you shudder. All you replied with was incoherent cries, met with him shushing you. 

As if your body isn't struggling to keep up with his pace and intensity, he decides to switch positions. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, like you are just his little doll, and slams you down onto his cock.He is so focused on chasing his own high, he does not give you even a second to adjust causing you to hold on to his shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh. You do not seem to get the memo, so he grabs your jaw making you look directly at him. “I don’t remember asking for a dead slut, start bouncing.” 

You start bouncing, struggling to keep a pace as your legs tremble and your wetness is leaking down your inner thighs and all over his veiny thick cock. Toji is not impressed with you at all, prompting him to grab your asscheeks, lifting you up and down his cock with the pace he actually wants, leaving you so speechless all you can do is put your head on his shoulder and cry. Your nails are scratching his back and shoulders so much, he has several deep cuts and you can see it is getting quite bloody. Not that he cares, this is nothing to him. Scratch away for all he cares, you are like a kitten to him. 

You are really starting to feel it in your stomach, it is filling you up and hitting every spot inside of you, including your sweet ones. “T-tojii- it’s too much p-please slow down..” 

“Can’t do slut, remember how you promised you won’t complain? It is very rude to not keep your promise, do I need to teach you some more manners now?? At your age??” Toji growls, giving you a hard slap on your ass causing you to cry out quite loudly. 

“Keep it down, don’t make me repeat this.” You just nod in response, biting your cheek so no more sounds come out..Bad timing though. You are starting to feel the tingles even more in your core and it is getting extremely hard to keep quiet. You are kind of lost in the build up, you are whispering/crying into his ear but it is mostly incoherent, he knows you are close though by the way you are clenching so hard around him and how loud the squelching sounds are. The little fire in your core is growing stronger every second.

He slows down his pace suddenly, and it is torture. He switches to deep slow strokes, causing you to get impatient. You try to move around and bounce but he is strong and keeps you in your place, stuck and unable to move. After what feels like forever of deep strokes, he decides to stop edging your cunt. He pulls out completely, leaving you in shock, he is still rock hard so why is he doing this. Just when you were liking it, he decides to pull this move. 

Toji thinks about using your mouth to get himself off and leave you there as he gathers his clothes, but he wonders how much more dominant and forceful he can be if he edges himself too. He knows you will be much more desperate and much more willing to let him use you if you don’t get what you want, hence leaving you like this. Maybe, with enough edging and coercion he could turn this little punishment into a permanent thing between you two. You have no idea but he had been waiting for this ever since you started babysitting, he could not give any fucks about the babysitter masturbating as long as she did her job.  

“I am gonna hit the shower, clean this mess and sleep over tonight, you know where the guest room is. It is not safe for you to go home at this age.” Is the last you hear from him before he leaves the living room, you guess your punishment will continue tomorrow but a sick little part of you is looking forward to it. You grin as you start to clean up.

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