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iloveboysinred · 3 days

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I won't say I'm in love [Prince Zuko]

pg. 13, fluff | Zuko x gn! reader

synopsis; Zuko had never been one to express himself in the right ways, anger had always been his primary emotion. But, when he meets you, a rouge fire bender helping the Avatar, it becomes hard for him to accept the growing warmth in his chest every time you look at him.

cw; emotionally constipated Zuko, fluff, pining, Clueless Zuko, Zuko doesn’t know how to deal with feelings, awkward turtleduck, light fluff.

Masterlist

Zuko never had time to really sit and think about relationships. After spending his early teenage years on a wild goose chase hunting the avatar, and now having joined the Gaang, with only a week to teach Aang how to firebend so he could face Ozai, he had a lot going on.

However, when he had started to fit in with the gaang better, you had definitely caught his attention.

You were a firebender yourself, highly skilled and light on your feet. You made a formidable opponent in battle, your elegance and lightweight movements almost resembling an air-bender. Zuko couldn’t help but stare as you practiced basic maneuvers, your muscles flexing with every movement, the thin sheen of sweat on your brow, and the fierce look of concentration on your beautiful face. To say Zuko was whipped was an understatement.

You were the last to accept him into the group, having always been a bit of a loner and standoffish, you didnt trust him. Especially with him being the crown prince of the very nation that has caused you nothing but pain. So Zuko worked extra hard to earn your friendship. Doing good deeds like helping Sokka clean up camp, going on water collecting trips with Kitara, helping Toph with her hair, and of course, befriending Aang and teaching him firebending alongside you.

While Zuko was still miles away from getting close to you, he was running out of ideas on how to gain your approval. So, naturally he went to Sokka for advice.

“Its like no matter what i do, y/n still hates me! I dont get it, you guys all like me, you know i’m good now. So whats their problem?” Sokka looked over Zuko’s exasperated face, putting two and two together. Not that it was hard, everyone caught him staring at you like a creep once or twice already. “I dont think y/n hates you, honestly. Thats just the way they are. It took like, 2 months for them to really open up to us.” Sokka shrugged, smoothing his hair down. “If i’m being honest, you’re trying too hard. Seems like you got a thing for them.” Zuko gaped, staring at Sokka like he had grown another head. “What are you talking about!? I dont like them. I just want them to trust me!” But despite his words, the flush on his face betrayed his denial. Sokka raised his eyebrows. “Right. Okay. Why don’t you just talk to them? I mean, obviously what youre doing isnt working. Maybe you should get them a gift or something.” Zuko nodded to himself. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? He quickly stood up, a new objective in mind.

“Thanks Sokka.”

“Anytime, bro. And a word of advice, if you’re trying to make it less obvious that you like them, try not staring so hard. It creeps everyone out.”

“I TOLD YOU I DONT!”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Get out before you burn my tent down.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, storming off with a deep flush on his cheeks.

The next morning he set out to the village nearby, wearing a cloak to disguise his face. He looked around the market, stopping by a jeweler, who had a whole array of different bracelets, necklaces, and rings. A peculiar necklace stood out to him. It held a beautiful ruby, plated in gold and held on to a thin, gold chain. Before anybody could see, he snatched it up, quickly leaving and heading back to the air temple before anybody could confront him. On the way back he stopped by a patch of fire-Lillies, picking a few to make a messy bouquet. “Y/n will like these.” He muttered to himself, trying to tie them together with an old piece of twine.

When he made his way back to camp, the others stared at him with questioning glances, momo crawling up to sniff at the flowers. “Whats with the flowers? You into gardening or something?” Sokka asked, eyeing the bright fire-lillies in his grasp. “I got these for Y/n” Zuko blushed as he realized how this looked, averting his eyes from Sokka’s teasing gaze. “Aww thats sweet, Zuko. Who knew you were such a softie.” Kitara cooed, fluttering her lashes in a mock swoon. Zuko gritted his teeth, cheeks burning hotter than the sun. “Yeah, maybe you’ll man up and confess. We all know you like them” Toph chided, smirking. “I don’t!” Zuko protested. “You’re lyinggg” Toph hummed, and Zuko cursed her abilities to see with her feet.

“Whats going on?” Zuko froze when he heard your voice, quickly turning towards you, hiding the bouquet behind his back. “Oh nothing, just teasing Zuko about his undying lo-“ Sokka was abruptly cut off by Zuko slapping his hand over his mouth, glaring at him. “What Sokka was trying to say is, we were teasing Zuko’s undying and super obvious crush on you.” Toph stated nonchalantly. The others snickered at Zuko’s panicked expression, his cheeks couldn’t have gotten hotter, wide eyes turned to you. “I dont know what they’re talking about! I don’t have a crush on you! They’re just trying to be funny i swear-“ “uh, Zuko-“ “I just want you to trust me, so i got you these flowers-“ he pulled the bouquet from behind him, presenting it to you. But what he didn’t realize was, he had accidentally set the lilies on fire. He gasped and dropped the bouquet, stomping on the charred flowers to put the fire out. You just gave him a blank look, the others snickering behind you. Zuko had never felt so embarrassed in his life.

“Wow Zuko, that sure was a good way to confess!” Kitara teased, watching as you just threw your hands up, being completely done with… whatever that was, and walking away to your tent. “Yeah Zuko. Maybe try not almost burning the camp down. I think Y/n will like it better if you just told them how you feel!” Aang chirped, just irritating Zuko more with his upbeat attitude. “Whatever, you guys are impossible” he snapped, storming off in a random direction. “And I told you i don’t like them!” Once he was out of earshot, Toph snickered, laying on her back against Appa’s side. “He’s lying again.”

For the rest of the day, Zuko avoided you at all costs. Leaving you to teach Aang by yourself, even sitting a considerable distance away from you during lunch. It was confusing you, but you didn’t say anything. You guessed he was still embarrassed from the spectacle he had made of himself that morning. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Zuko was sweet, and if what the others are saying is true, you couldn’t deny that you could start feeling something for him too. You’d observed him ever since he joined the group, and his surprisingly gentle heart had impressed you. You’d watched him teach Aang during your training sessions. Appreciating the way his body moved flawlessly, his dark hair bringing out the gold in his eyes. You had to admit, you weren’t complaining when he would show up to your lessons shirtless. There was no denying he was cute.

So, you decided to approach him, surprising even yourself. You waited for everyone to settle into their tents, then you made your way to his. You stood outside for a second, thinking about how you were going to start this, what you would say. But your thoughts blanked when Zuko crawled out of his tent, now face to face with you. “O-oh hi- Zuko- i, um” you stuttered, lost for words. His eyes widened at the sight of you, sputtering like a nervous wreck. “I just wanted to u-um say, t-that i think the flowers were beautiful and u-um that was very sweet of you” “o-oh” you stood in awkward silence, the ground suddenly very interesting. “Anyways i think i’m gonna go-“ “wait, i-i um, i got you this too.” He quickly handed you the necklace, eyes averting yours and a deep blush on his cheeks. You looked the piece of jewelry over, smiling at him. “It’s beautiful Zuko. Um, thank you?” “You’re uh, you’re welcome..” you don’t know what took over you, but you leaned forward pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You stared at each other in shock, now it was your turn to blush, face as red as a tomato. “Uh well, its getting late- i’m gonna go back to my tent. G-goodnight” the words came out quicker than you could think, racing off back to your tent. Leaving Zuko standing there, hand on his cheek, feeling how warm the skin was under his palm. His brain short circuited and his heart was beating 400 miles per minute, he swore he was gonna pass out.

Hope you enjoyed :> notes and reblogs are appreciated, comments, asks, and requests are welcomed! 💗

#prince zuko x reader #zuko fluff #zuko x reader #atla x reader #atla fluff #didnt really like this but oh well #❥iloveboysinred #zuko oneshot

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hadeantaiga · 2 days

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I will say solely bc you say anyone who picks bear is radfem-poisoned- there is another, albeit probably less common reason to pick the bear. I'd pick the bear, and not bc I hate or am afraid of men, but bc im autistic as fuck with a special interest in biology and genuinely understand animals better than people lmao. A chill man and a (albeit unlikely) chill bear would be fine either way, but if either was aggressive? I'd know more about how to escape the bear than I would having to escape any human trying to hurt me, bears have protocols to escapethat tend to work on any bear of that type, with exceptions, people don't lmao

To reference the original argument: to assume there is any level of comparable risk between bears and human men is fucking bonkers. It is illogical to compare the threat level of a human man and a bear. The bear is much more dangerous, hands-down. The same goes with any other human being. A bear is much more of a threat to you.

The ONLY reason to believe men and bears pose the same level of risk is to believe all the poison you've been taught about how evil and dangerous men are. There are two sources of this propaganda: 1: the patriarchy itself, because the idea of a hyper-aggressive man benefits the patriarchy's vision of men as the superior sex, and 2: radical feminists, who want all women so terrified of men that the only escape is separatism.

---

Ok, so now, let's operate off the new assumption that the gender of the human doesn't matter:

Honestly "I would rather be in mortal danger and have to run through all the protocols I know on how to survive a bear attack and potentially die rather than see another person" seems really, really... really illogical.

It doesn't matter how much you love animals or how much you know, if the bear tries to kill you it would be way better at it than a human. The bad part about nature is that it does not in fact follow protocol. I know a lot about how to escape bears too. It's advice, but bears do not have to follow that advice. You have a much higher chance of survival running away from a person.

And the fact is, 99.9% of people you meet (including men) are perfectly normal human beings who do not wish you harm. Hell, some of them are probably autistic with a special interest in bears. The human is probably just chilling with you. You don't even have to talk to them. You could just walk away.

Everyone keeps going "well what IF the person tried to attack me?" ignoring that such a situation is in fact very unlikely.

#bear vs man

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yourheart-inmyhands · 1 day

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hey! question/something you could turn into a concept if you wish. do you think yandere scaramouche (fatui era) would act differently than yandere wanderer? or do you think they'd act generally the same? it's so interesting to see peoples interpretations of different versions of scara lol :3

ah this was such a fun concept, i could talk endlessly about the differences between them but i kept it short and sweet for now! i hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including verbal abuse, scaramouche being a douche, delusional behaviors, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

There are very noticeable differences between Scaramouche and Wanderer and some that only those close would pick up on. For one, Scaramouche always walked with confidence, drawing attention to himself and commanding everyone’s eyes, Wanderer now prefers a different approach, lingering on the sidelines and watching others, observing.

Scaramouche’s porcelain was pristine, his cracks repaired and his joints flawless. Wanderer is rougher, some small hairline fractures and other larger chunks missing from different parts of him, patched over with bandages for the time being. His joints are no better, with him always in the forest he’s prone to getting dirt and rocks in them, making it not only difficult but also painful to move them. He often has to get assistance in cleaning them.

Those are some of the more noticeable ones, but less noticeable ones are how they would speak to a darling. Scaramouche is rough, standoffish to ensure he isn’t abandoned once more, left behind and forgotten again. Wanderer is snarky, a bit rude, but there’s less of an edge to it. He’s snippy to maintain a facade, not wanting others to see how soft he’s gone despite him being wiped from everyone’s memory.

“You disgusting waste of space, you should be grateful I even spare you a minute of my time. Honestly, what purpose do you serve aside from keeping my bed warm? Pathetic.” Scaramouche doesn’t even look at you as he scoffs out insult after insult, his focus on himself in the mirror as he looks over a crack he’d recently gotten. He’d have to go to that wretched doctor to get it fixed, couldn’t go around looking broken, looking weak.

“You’re in my way, move before I make you.” The crossing of his arms and the annoyed, melodramatic tone of his voice are enough to move you away from the bookcase. Your eyes are wide, an apology caught in your throat as he huffs, grabs a book off the shelf without even pausing to look before stalking off again. It was like he’d done this before. As he walks off though, you can’t help but notice the strange way he moves, his left leg swings strangely, like there was something stopping it from bending all the way when he lifts it. Strange.

Neither are particularly nice or sweet, but you’re more likely to get Wanderer to warm up to you than Scaramouche. The cold-hearted puppet that was a Fatui member didn’t need anyone, nor did he want them, he only wanted power, wanted to be recognized for what he was and what he could do. Wanderer isn’t after that, he’s looking for himself in the trees, hoping that by rescuing another lost child, eliminating a camp of bandits, freeing one more Rishboland tiger from an illegal trap will tell him something. Will give him some hint or clue as to what he was really made for.

Scaramouche works best with a willing darling who is ok with being pushed around, ignored, and verbally degraded. He won’t ever say he loves you, won’t coddle you when you cry or get hurt, won’t buy you gifts or make things for you. But he always returns to bed with you at night, laying beside you as he watches you sleep. He’s above it, but there’s a comfort in watching you sleep, a time where he can just shut his mind down and pretend he’s nothing and no one.

Wanderer works best with a darling who is a little more forceful in asserting themselves, showing up at the bookstore he frequents, following him into the forest to see what he’s up to, asking around about him until word gets back to him and he confronts you about it. It takes a long time for him to open up to you, even more so before he starts to seek you out himself, but slowly he grows to become as much a part of your life as you have his. And he doesn’t entirely hate it.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x male reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche x male reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x male reader #yandere wanderer x reader #yandere wanderer x male reader #yandere genshin #yandere wanderer #yandere scaramouche

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clemblog · 13 hours

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Caine’s Lesson - Part 2

•••

Pomni screwed her eyes shut as she found herself plummeting into the sticky chocolate lake. Luckily for her, the creature who resided in such was too busy munching on Candy Kingdom citizens to have noticed her appearance.

She groaned, tired and annoyed, as she dragged herself to the shoreline. Of course her punishment had to be making her way back to the circus. Alone. At least, that’s what it looked to be! A long lonely work back to the circus

So, she got to walking. Reluctantly. If she could, she’d have just laid down and waited for the monster of the lake to eat her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t interested in her flesh. She probably wouldn’t die either. Just end up alive in some kind of stomach or digestive system like Zooble did with the gloink Queen. Caine would have to come save her and pull her back to the circus.

Which was the last thing she wanted right now.

So, she walked.

She walked until the distant sun began to set. She was surprised there was a sun at all in this kinda place, surely every thing would get a lot more sticky with the thing constantly blazing down. She’d have to ask Caine the logistics of that, once she got back to the circus.

…If, she got back to the circus.

Maybe Caine would get busy with everyone else and forget she was even here in the first place?!

That would be awful… but not unexpected. She had kinda snapped at him, a lot. Even if he had deserved it, it wasn’t exactly nice. Or nice.

He controlled her current plain of existence for [——] sake. It had happened again. Pomni had let her emotions get the better of her.

First with Ragatha…

Then… Gummigoo….

And now herself..

Her hands started to flap a little as she realised how much she’d [——-] up.

She wouldn’t blame Caine if he left her here.

She wasn’t cut out for his world anyway…

She let herself sit back against a boulder she’d stopped by. She wanted to sleep. To forget again for just a moment. But she had to be smart. Only Caine knew what kind of creatures must have been waiting for her now that night had fallen.

So, Pomni curled up in a little ball and crammed herself under the nearby boulder. It had a perfect Pomni sized space for her to do so.

The feel of the boulder was grounding, like the feeling of a big strong hug from someone as she slept.

It was exactly what she wanted right now.

So sleep was easy.

Pomni woke up to the sound of gummy birds pecking away at gummy worms. She groaned, rubbing at her face tiredly. Her sleep was fine, but the ground was still rough to sleep on. Honestly, it was lucky her jester outfit was so comfy and accustomed to fit her. Obviously, it made sense living in an AI simulation based world. But she’d never miss the grating feeling of clothing in the real world.

She got up with a stretch and started walking again. She didn’t need to eat or drink, so it was all she could do. Maybe she’d run into some of the citizen NPC’s or some other kind of gummy bandits!

…She missed her gummy bandit.

He’d made her feel less alone. Less crazy. More human. More okay.

Knowing Caine’s current mood, he probably didn’t exist in this world anymore.

He’d listened to her more than anyone else did. Instead of just yelling explanation after explanation or infantilising her. He’d listened and given his own thoughts, treated her like… a person instead of an inconvenience or a punching bag.

He was her… best friend, even if just only for a few moments.

Maybe she could find his buddies?

She hadn’t gotten their names, but they seemed nice enough!

She wouldn’t have to be alone that way either-

“Alright Pomni, you’ve got this. This is your plan now: find Gummigoo’s friends and hopefully… they’ll let you stay with them until Caine decides to bring you back.”

And so, she got back to walking again. It was the only thing she could do now, so it was peaceful and grounding. She had a plan. She could do this.

•

“You know, you shouldn’t let him treat you like that.” Hummed Zooble.

Gangle looked up from her notebook.

“I-I know… He’s just intimidating… a-and cruel, so I get scared.” She eeked out.

Zooble nodded at this, limping over to sit beside her. She’d crammed herself into a little hidey hole to escape Jax’s torment.

“You’re so brave Zooble.. I-I don’t know how you can talk to Jax normally..”

“He respects me.”

“…how?”

“Because I don’t give him what he wants. Acknowledgement.”

“O-Oh.”

“Besides, I think your drawings are pretty cool.”

“R-Really?”

“Mhm. You’re doing better than Rags over there. I don’t think she’s shut up since Pomni disappeared.”

“Mm… I- think she’s worried.”

“Obviously, anyways, enough about Ragatha. Back to your drawings.”

Zooble watched as Gangle gave a shy smile at this, happily starting to ramble about her art.

Being with Zooble felt safe.

Being with Gangle felt nice.

Sometimes nice things came about from bad situations.

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 1 day

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 32

MASTAPOST

Samson S. Skulker. Wealthy real estate owner, noted trophy hunter. Been on safaris in Botswana, Indonesia, India, and other countries taking big game. Guy hunted just about everything. Elephants, rhinos, tigers, elk, only to come to Elmerton Bay, just an hour away by boat from Amity Island.

It didn’t take two brain cells to figure out why. The better question was why Phantom tried to point webbed fingers at him as to the whereabouts of Danny Fenton, a move that was transparently (goddammit Dick and your puns) a lie, according to Bruce. Tim Drake slipped into the man’s more private records without even trying.

Of course, getting the data out and parsing what it meant were two very different things. But he wasn’t trained by Batman for nothing. Skulker did make cursory attempts at hiding his electronic paper trail, but cursory was absolutely not enough to keep 13-year-old Tim out, let alone his current self.

Firstly, the man absolutely hunted more exotic, more illegal creatures. That much was clear. Borrowing some of Barbara’s programmes, Tim found the man travelling to much more remote countries. His little vacations coincided with missing persons reports around the same time.

Missing metas, to be exact. Each person with a power set dangerous to themselves and others. Each person having disappeared without a trace and then never to be found again. The picture Tim was building was getting grimmer.

Secondly, the man was buying parts. Robotics parts, to be exact. Engines, weapons systems, hydraulics. Many of them sourced from Vladco, the company founded by Vlad Masters, an old college friend of Jack and Maddie Fenton, who were the parents to the missing teenager of Tim’s current case.

But Danny Fenton did not have the meta-gene, a fact Tim confirmed after yet another concerning breach of privacy. He filed that detail away for later investigating.

Tim pressed a key, letting his programmes run while he got a coffee. Oh sweet delicious coffee. He had once distilled almost pure caffeine into a syrup. It was the most horrible thing he’d tasted in his life, but the buzz kept him up all night, that was until his heart started giving out. That was less enjoyable.

What was also less enjoyable was the revving motorcycle heading into the Batcave. Two motorcycles, in fact. Just as Tim’s afternoon was looking to be peaceful and quiet.

“Don’t fucking give me that, Dickwing!” Jason called out.

“I’m fine, Jay, maybe you need to stop hovering over me like some mama bear.” Dick put down his helmet with maybe a little too much force.

Jason hopped off his own bike. “That’s bullshit and even Timbit knows it.”

Tim shrunk into the Batcomputer’s chair. He so did not want to be a part of this. He just waited for his older brothers to carry their argument out of earshot, like they had been doing regularly now. The men traded strong words with every footstep across the cave.

“Maybe I’m just a little high strung. It’s honestly nothing.”

“You literally cannot fucking say that when I saw you going full-ass Punisher five minutes ago. Like the traffickers yesterday were one thing. Those guys suck. This dude was literally just a mugger. Are you going out of your fucking mind?”

“Jason, I thought you were supposed to be the one who’s all for going full Punisher style?”

Jason groaned loudly, and then transitioned into a frustrated scream. “Do you even hear yourself?!”

The changing room door slammed shut.

That was the second argument in the last two days. If you told Tim that Mr Heads-in-a-Duffle would be lecturing the Golden Child over excessive force, he’d start working on a machine to send you back to the topsy-turvy alternate dimension you’d come from, but apparently his dimension was the topsy-turvy one the whole time. And he hated it.

Turns out Dick inherited more from Bruce than he liked to admit, including his awful coping mechanisms. And to be honest, he was way too tired to even begin to breach this subject.

He should be happy that his literal attempted murderer was going to be out of his hair for a good while, maybe even forever. But even entertaining the thought made him sick enough to avoid the topic in his head for hours, only to think about it again, and get himself sick again.

So back to Skulker it was. Joy.

It turned out his new friend Skulker had made himself a fucking Iron Man rip-off suit, capable of flight, diving, and packed to the gills with fuck-you bazookas, machine guns, and hydroplasm weapons. Hydroplasm guns that he’d sourced from the Fentons themselves, through a long and complicated chain of buyoffs.

And happy day, the man was kind enough to install cameras and microphones, and kept logs from both.

In a surprising twist, it was fiendishly difficult to hack into those logs. Tim was honestly beginning to sweat. He suspected Skulker’s friends at Vladco (namely Vlad Masters, the sleezeball. Tim never liked him at galas and this only cemented his low opinion) had some secrets that they didn’t want out.

No matter, it was only a matter of time. Tim continued typing.

And typing.

What the hell was this firewall?! Tim pinched his arm just to make sure this wasn’t a sleep-deprivation hallucination. He could’ve sworn he’d gotten through that layer of security. It was like it was shifting itself to cover up his progress and force him to start over. Almost like it was alive.

Against the thunderous backdrop of his brothers’ clashing voices, Tim set himself on overdrive. If he could just act faster than it could correct itself, then maybe, maybe.

A plain error message informed him of the results long after he’d already seen them. Tim kicked the table for good measure. The only thing he could extract was two frames of video footage. They showed, respectively, a T-shirt and pair of sneakers that matched what one of the missing metas was wearing when they were last seen.

Was it damning evidence? Absolutely. But it also proved to him absolutely nothing that he wasn’t already suspecting, nothing that could point him in a new direction. Still, it made his stomach churn. He hoped those people would get a better second chance beyond the grave.

Maybe the fact that the data was this well-hidden at all proved something.

The locker room door swung open, his brothers in civvies and glaring at each other, trying to appear civil in front of (right behind) Tim, even though they’d literally just been shouting at each other ten minutes ago.

“Timmy!” Dick called out. “How long have you been awake?”

Tim gestured offhanded to his pile of only two used mugs. “Not long enough. I’m still working. Can you take it upstairs please?”

Jason huffed, and stalked off upstairs without a word, probably too disgusted to be in his and Dick’s presence much longer.

Dick clasped his hands. “It’s fine, Tim. Honestly. Jason and I are just having a little, err, disagreement, is all.”

“Hm.” Tim inputted another set of commands. He was starting to see why Bruce liked to say that now. Avoiding painful emotions felt so good. Dick made a pained noise.

“Well, ok. I’m just gonna head back to Bludhaven now. Say hi to Alfred for me! And contact me if you need anything!” And then he sped off.

Tim shook off the awkwardness like old clothes. Thank goodness for some peace and quiet again. Maybe that was why he was working so hard to help Bruce get the demon child back, so he could return to the status quo, and not this. This hell reality where Dick was as emotionally constipated as Bruce and Jason was the one acting as the voice of reason.

The first night when Bruce called home, the entire family was in an uproar. Dick got a pale look on his face, and was halfway about to take the Batplane and go searching for Damian himself, only for Bruce to remind him that they were all still needed in Gotham and Bludhaven, and whatever few leads there were, Bruce would pursue. It was effortlessly logical, but it was clear Dick hated it. He stormed off in a rage that Tim had only seen when Ethiopia was fresh, when he and Bruce were at their lowest.

And Jason? He got this look on his face that he’d never, ever seen before. Tim had laid awake one night just contemplating it for ages.

Actually, no. He had seen it once before. It was Tim caught Jason looking into what Bruce was doing in the months after Ethiopia. Tim had subtly hacked the phone camera, and the look Jason had then was the same as how he looked when Damian was declared missing.

Tim shook his head. It was a gruesome image, what Bruce had sent them. Damian’s clothes ripped to shreds. The ground stained with his blood. No body in sight.

A little brother who may or may not be dead, something he may or may not be glad or sick to his stomach about. Brothers who were acting like completely different people, and a monster of a man who had to be connected somehow.

A ping appeared in the corner of the screen. The government siren hunting branch appearing in Panama?

Sam Manson sat up in her bed, her body finding some way to release the dread and tension. She looked on at her phone in horror and macabre fascination in equal parts.

This had Danny written all over it. She didn’t even need to hear the anchor confirming it to know.

On the one hand, she really wanted to applaud him for fucking them up this bad. The comment section was ripping into the GiW for their actions in Panama, treating the country like it was some vassal state they could romp around in. She personally screenshotted the fucking beautiful mass car crash the GiW had gotten into trying to catch him, and saved it into her favourites folder.

On the other hand, she really wanted to slap him for fucking up this bad. This could’ve easily gone wrong. Danny what were you thinking?! They could’ve got him that time!

And finally, she wanted to yell in frustration, because they had a radio communicator there. Goddammit! If only Tucker had known, they he could’ve hacked in and they could’ve talked to their best friend and actually got an update on what the fuck was going on.

And finally, finally for real, she was so glad, because the GiW would’ve announced it on every news channel if they’d actually managed to catch him. Thank fucking goodness.

Ugh, this headache. She really needed to lie down again.

Knock, knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

Dread pooled in her stomach. “Come in,” she said, resigned to her fate.

Grandma Ida, the person she least wanted to see right now, opened the door. She was the kind of woman who never carried herself very seriously, except for in matters of sorcery, and especially when warning Sam on the dangers of her craft. Dangers that Sam had ignored in order to go all out. Now she marched into Sam’s bedroom like an executioner.

Grandma stood at the foot of Sam’s bed, scanning her closely. “I knew I smelled tinged blood.” She went up to the side, and palmed Sam’s forehead. Her hand was freezing cold to the touch. “You should’ve called me immediately.”

Sam averted her eyes. She should’ve, but she didn’t.

Her parents never failed to get a rise out of her; she rejected their notions of female beauty and social etiquette in every way, their attempts to hook her up with Tim Drake-Wayne, then Damian Wayne, and she hadn’t cowed to them or submitted since she was ten. But with Grandma’s withering disapproval, she couldn’t feel more like a child if she tried.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“I warned you many times of the risks, Sammy. You’re lucky to be here, and not in the hospital or worse.”

“I know.”

Sam moved to lie on her side, facing away from Granny. Granny had questioned her decision to fight alongside Danny, but allowed it under the condition that she did so safely, and turning your body into a popping water balloon, but with blood, was so not the definition of safe.

And Danny’s fate was still in question regardless. He wasn’t able to cross Panama, and who knows what Damian was doing. What if it was all for naught?

A hand was put on her shoulder. “Did you accomplish what you were set out to do?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

“And was it worth it?” Yes. Absolutely yes. Danny bled every day for this god-forsaken town of ingrates. He’d bled for her mistake six months ago.

Granny seemed to understand her feelings. She nodded, and ruffled Sam’s hair, and the tension in Sam’s body drained away.

“Then I trust your judgement. Can you sit up? I’ve brought some more medicine for you.”

Sam pushed herself against the bunched-up pillows at the headboard. Her head spun from the motion, but she was never one to let her body’s limits confine her. “Thank you, Bubbe. I love you.”

Granny passed her a brew of herbal medicine, dozens of dried spices and mushrooms brewed together into a blackened sludge that felt like knives into your tongue, but which never failed to get her feeling better. It was a leg up from what big pharma tried to pedal for ten-fold the price.

Sam lifted up the mug to her face. And, oh yeah. Nothing like bitter liquid pain to help with a migraine. She let the hot tea flow over her taste buds, pathing them in cinnamon, star anise and a million other things.

She finished her tea in one satisfying gulp, running her tongue over her teeth and scratching out the lingering aftertaste. As she put the mug down, it revealed Grandma’s face hovering right in front of her. Sam yelped in shock. “Bubbe! You gave me a heart attack!”

Bubbe smiled devilishly. “So what did you do?”

Sam’s mouth gaped open. Leave it to her Grandma to almost kill her from emotional whiplash.

“Now come on, this is a monumental moment for a budding young sorceress like yourself. Why, when I was twenty-two, I used to run with some heroic types myself. We had all sorts of hijinks together.” Bubbe cackled and clasped her hands, eyes going wispy. “My friends got a heart attack when I pulled off my own hare-brained scheme to topple the evil overlord of the week’s central command. Hah!”

“What?!” Then Sam coughed, and lowered her volume. “What do you mean ‘heroic types.’ You just told me you went to some stuffy academy and eloped.”

Bubbe shrugged. “I did do that. Must have forgotten the extra stuff.”

Sam blinked.

She moved to sit beside Sam on the bed. “We got up to a lot of fun back in the day, and a lot of pain too. I did what I did to protect those I cared for. Did you, bubbeleh?”

She held Sam’s hand with a look that reminded her just how many years Grandma had lived, and how many adventures or stories she had yet to tell, how much heartache she’d had to endure to become the woman she was now. “I projected an illusion all the way off the coast of Panama. It hurt like nothing else in my entire life, but…” She paused. “We got Phantom out. He’s safe now, I think.”

Grandma Ida nodded solemnly, the kind of understanding that Sam craved from her parents every waking moment of her teenage career.

“I don’t want this to be a regular occurrence, ok?”

“Yes, I promise. This was an extreme circumstance.”

“Good. Now, are you well enough for some meditation? It would do well to keep your soul energy flowing.”

Ok, but you have to tell me what you got up to back in the day.”

Granny chuckled, and agreed to it. Sam kicked off her covers, letting her legs get some fresh air. She was probably pushing it, but she needed to recover as quickly as possible. Who knew when she would be needed again?

Maddie Fenton kneeled in the sand. Her hands clamped down on her gun. Her knees shook. Tears prickled in her goggles.

Her baby was right there. He was so close. So fucking close. She could almost touch him, even now.

And he ran away from her. And at first her heart shattered into a million pieces, just like it had when he’d come home after his first disappearance and flinched when she hugged him.

Then she realised. He was protecting her. Some metal menace was shooting at her defenseless son like it was some kind of sick game. The monster of a man had laid fucking landmines on a public beach.

It should’ve been her protecting him.

Bruce Wayne returned to her side, empty handed. They’d scoured this entire beach. Danny couldn’t have gone far, she had thought, only for their search to turn up with nothing.

That left only one option. That her enemy doubled back after fleeing, and snatched Danny up without either her or Bruce noticing. Maddie’s heart sank. She should’ve aimed for the head.

A name pinged in her mind. Phantom had whispered it to her. Skulker.

With nary but nod, she and Bruce mounted their jet skis again.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #angst #danny phantom #tim drake #mer!danny #mer!damian wayne #mermay #mermay 2024

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shadowetienne · 2 days

Text

Got premium snapshots with both Rie and Junji. It was a great experience, and I'm really happy with the Rie photo especially. Amusingly, even though I had to do a retake with Junji, I spent more time with Rie because he is a menace.

I went to Junji's line first. I was about 4th in that line, and he was still definitely settling in. He was very smiley, and he almost immediately pointed at the flag that I'd tucked into my waistband and said good work and thank you. We did the pose, I almost managed to knock my glasses off taking my mask off (mask was off for less than a minute) and Junji was like "wait wait" to the photographer while I fixed them. He gave me a fist bump and said "I love you, thank you for coming again" when I was heading out! (I had thought he'd recognized me at fansign because he did the point to my shirt and do the thumbs up "shirt!" thing again with a like "again" but that was quick and it was confirmed with later interactions).

Then I went to Rie, his line was one of the shorter ones, but it was also moving the absolute slowest. This is because he is a menace of a man. So I'm notably taller than Rie (as evidenced by my Junji photo where I'm standing up straight), the first thing Rie does when I get up to him is put hand on my shoulder and pull me right up next to him, but also *down*. Like that pose in the photo is where he put me. He did not get into pose right away though. Instead he chatted at me for a bit, held my hand for a second and then there was a bunch of little shoulder squeezes. I don't remember word for word what he said, but there was a sort of stream of: thank you for coming again, the flag is cool, you're beautiful, love you, bestie, did you have fun? I managed to get a few little responses in, but he was just really intense. We eventually got to the actual photo, but he didn't let go and send me to collect the photo right away (person taking the photo looked resigned to this, I suspect because he is Like This). He grabbed onto my hand said I love you bestie again, squeezed my hand, winked and said "come back next time too" and I sort of stumbled out an of course. Honestly, I'm surprised by how unpanicked I was about the level of touchy this man is, he does touch pressure really well and was just, like comfortable? This is not normal for me, but I'd thought it looked like he gave good hugs before, so I guess now I know.

Went to the corner where we were letting photos settle/develop and it became evident that my Junji photo was completely blown out/washed out, so I got sent back for a retake.

I was near the end of Junji's line, and he was one of the last ones taking pictures (though I believe Kyubin was last). He was more settled in and smiled at me and sort of guided me through the photo process (even though I knew what I was doing better this time). He remembered which pose, and said "love you" and "come again" again, and then did a double fist bump, and then pointed to my wedding band and said pretty as I was leaving. I think Junji may have had the worst lighting, and my retake was still a little washed out, but I'm happy with it anyhow.

Big take aways: both of them liked the flag, Rie is a menace, Junji is a sweetheart, honestly so is Rie he's just a menace about it, they both remembered me from last year (?!?!?!).

#OnlyOneOf #SF tour stop #snapshots #Rie #Junji #this part was overwhelming but awesome

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wittlesissyb4by · 2 days

Text

Chapter 3

Max hasn’t said anything today. I was up when he was getting ready for work, which is weird because I’m usually never up this early. But I guess I…wanted something to happen. I’m not exactly sure what I wanted. Last night seemed like it was a dream.

Did I dream that?

No. It was definitely real. I remember the taste of his cock, the taste of his cum. No dream is that vivid. No dream can make me that turned on. So I don’t know what I expected when I got up this morning, but I guess I was just hopeful for …something. Words of affirmation, a hug, a chance to suck his cock again…

Honestly just an acknowledgment of my presence would have been nice. But he didn’t even do that, just sipped his coffee while scrolling through his phone at the table.

“Can I get you anything?” I want to say, but bite my tongue, not wanting to sound like some sort of desperate housewife. I want to address the elephant in the room, to talk about yesterday, whether or not we’re square. Did the blowjob I gave him really justify a whole month’s rent? Does he want more? Do I want more? How weird will our relationship be if we were to start some sort of strange sexual dynamic? What if it stops? What if it continues?

“Well, I’m off to work.” he says, pushing back his chair, gathering up his things and heading out the door without so much as a glance my way.

“Okay by–” but it doesn’t even get all the way out of my mouth before the door slams shut.

Maybe he’s mad. Maybe he regrets what happened. I mean, it was his doing. He initiated it all and I just…let it happen.

Helped it happen.

I wasn’t exactly a helpless victim. It was me that was bobbing up and down on his big juicy cock by my own accord. God it tasted good. It felt good. Something I've denied myself for so long.

I’m not gay. At least, I don’t think I am. I’ve always had an affinity for women. They are majestic, beautiful creatures. I love seeing their eyes and smiles brighten up a room. The way they laugh and can have fun and dance like no one is watching. The curve of their hips, their breasts. Their supple movements, the way they casually tuck their hair behind their ear, and bat their eyelashes. There is no doubt that they are by far the more attractive sex.

But I've always been plagued with a feeling of inferiority. Not being the biggest in the penis department has left me with anxiety that I won’t be able to perform or please them the way ‘real’ men can. I have lingering visions of women standing around, laughing at me because I have a shy bladder and can’t pee in a toilet in a timely manner. Or I take off a beautiful woman’s clothes and she laughs at the size of my dick, or is disappointed when it's not able to get hard due to my underlying fear and shame.

The combination of these phobias has most likely caused my brain to warp them into a series of fetishes. It sexualized my short-comings. I get turned on by a woman insulting the size of my penis. I get hard to the idea of them laughing at me, degrading me, humiliating me.

My timidity when it comes to peeing in a toilet must have spawned the retention of such. ‘Since you can’t even use the toilet properly, maybe your teeny wieny is better suited for diapers instead!’ I imagine those laughing girls saying.

All of this culminates into this whirlpool of self-doubt, and leaves me feeling like less of a man than others. Thus, I guess, is where the sissy stuff came from. Perhaps it was society’s fault. In our culture, anyone not befitting of a masculine, alpha, macho-man persona is unabashedly called a ‘sissy’. I figured out pretty early that I belonged in that category, and must have accepted it from an early age.

Years of watching and reading porn only exacerbated my ‘problems’. I quickly learned what kind of things I enjoyed, and even found things I didn’t know I would enjoy. I was always attracted to diapers, but I didn’t know they could be combo’d with skirts and dresses. That was new. Two of my favorite things merged together in a perfect amalgamation. Combo that with a superior woman speaking to me in a humiliating, patronizing manner? Gold. Solid gold.

Then one day I found a video of a woman calling me a ‘wittle sissy baby’ and telling me she had a bottle for me. But this wasn’t just any bottle. It was a special bottle. And that’s when she brought in the giant dick that was waiting off screen.

I’ve never been attracted to men. Honestly. I’ve never looked at a man and found myself sexually attracted to them. Well, other than Ryan Reynolds, but that doesn’t count. I’m comfortable enough to tell when a man is good-looking, and can acknowledge it, but that’s usually as far as it goes. The idea of kissing, dating, or being romantic with a man does nothing for me. But the cock? Well…that’s a different story.

I guess the inferiority complex I have with women carried over to men as well. I’m not naive enough to think I’m anything above the bottom of the totem pole. I consider myself the bottom of the societal barrel. A subservient. A willing participant to what others desire. A submissive. To anyone, regardless of sex or gender. And so, I guess my brain can’t differentiate between who it is that I’m serving. But porn quickly told me that, if you’re a sissy, you’re going to spend a lot of time serving men.

I’m not sure if it’s a deep desire I’ve held all along, or if I unknowingly Pavlov’d myself into it, but eventually the idea of being dressed up like a little diaperslut and sucking some dick became a very big fantasy of mine.

And so we circle back to Max. We’ve lived together for almost 2 years, and in that time I’ve never imagined myself with him. He’s a big, burly, ‘alpha’ male, but not even once did I fantasize about being on my knees in front of him, sucking and worshiping his cock.

So now I’m conflicted. Did I enjoy what happened? I don’t think there’s any denying that. But I’m still hesitant. Caught in this weird limbo of right and wrong. I just got a little carried away, that’s all. I only did it because he told me to. Because I needed a place to live. If I didn’t do it, I was going to have to live on the streets. I was doing it for survival. Right?

He doesn’t say anything when he gets back from work. Just sighs in that exasperated way one does when they come home after a long day. He grabs a beer from the fridge, plops down on the couch, and turns on SportsCenter.

I sit in the chair several feet away and act like I'm interested. “So the Bruins had the best record in the regular season?” I ask, parroting what the news anchors are saying, “and the most points in franchise history? And they still lost in the first round of the playoffs?”

He just nods absentmindedly, lounging on the couch and putting his hat over his head.

Assuming he’s about to take a nap, I stand up to leave. Heading out of the living room.

“Where are you going?” he asks abruptly beneath his cap.

“I was going to go play some games.” I reply, a bit disconcerted.

“No you’re not.” He says simply.

“I’m not?”

“No.”

I don’t say anything for a bit, just have my mouth hanging open in confusion, so he continues.

“You’re going to put on an outfit for me.” He says, “The schoolgirl outfit will do.” He doesn’t need to clarify, but he does anyway: “The slutty one.”

My stomach drops. From fear or excitement I'm not exactly sure. “I…wh-what do–”

“Get made up for me.” He says, still talking beneath his hat, “I want you to look your best.”

******

My hands shake as I apply the last bit of mascara to my lashes. I’m not sure if I'm giddy with excitement or fear. Is this really happening?

I usually revel in the idea of dressing up like a little slut, but no one has actually seen the finished product. What is he going to do when he sees me like this? Will he humiliate me? Laugh at me? Tease me? Fuck me?

My mind swims with the possibilities. I stand up and check myself in the mirror. I definitely look passable, maybe even fuckable. After readjusting the ‘breasts’ of my stuffed shirt, I take a little turn, watching my mini-skirt lift as I twirl. I feel…pretty. Desirable. I just hope he agrees. There’s butterflies in my stomach and I don’t even know what’s about to happen. Maybe it’s the thrill of the unknown, but I feel ready for any possibility.

The only thing left is to figure out what to put beneath my skirt. Should I wear a diaper? It certainly would be my first choice, but would it be his? A pair of pampers doesn’t exactly scream ‘slutty’, and I don’t want to turn him off or scare him away from whatever might take place. So I decided on a pair of skimpy boy-shorts. It only just hits me how ironic that term is. I didn’t feel like much of a boy when I wrapped them around my parts. If anything, it was like putting the final nail in the coffin that made me feel like a girl.

One last glimpse in the mirror before I saunter off into the unknown. I open my door with trepidation, it seems to creak louder than usual. I creep through the hall, the house is eerily quiet. At first I think he’s left, some kind of cruel joke. Or maybe he’s just napping. Should I wake him if he is? How awkward would that be? Hey Max, wake up, time to see your roommate dressed like a cheap whore.

But when I turn the corner, he’s sitting on the couch, bolt upright, a big smile on his face.

I scrunch up as I walk in front of him, suddenly very self-conscious. Does my hair look okay? What do I say? What do I do? Luckily, he helps me.

“Turn around.”

I do, legs quivering.

“All the way.”

A complete twirl. My arms stiff at my sides.

“Relax. Give me a little curtsy.”

I feel myself loosen a bit as I grab the hem of my tiny skirt, jut my leg out, and dip shakily.

I can feel his eyes panning me over. I feel like an object, a painting on the wall for him to admire, and I don’t exactly hate the feeling.

“Face away from me.” He growls. His voice is a little shaky, is he nervous too? Or is it…something else?

I tiptoe around, facing the TV. It’s off, so I can see my face reflecting in the black screen. I can see him too, he’s smiling, and his hand is rubbing over the front of his pants.

“Bend over.”

I do, hinging at the waist. I can feel the breeze hit the bottom of my cheeks as my skirt lifts, exposing my panties.

“You have such a nice ass.”

It’s such a strange comment. Not creepy, just…something he’s never said to me before. It makes me warm inside, to be complimented in such a way.

“Th-thank you…” I squeak awkwardly.

“Come here.” He says.

I turn, moseying up to him, perhaps a little too eagerly.

“Knees.”

I drop again, the same position I was in last night.

He’s still rubbing his pants. I can see his bulge, I can see his cock in my mind, my mouth subconsciously starts to water.

“I’m going to be honest.” He says. “I spent all weekend masturbating to the thought of you in this outfit.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but it was oddly enticing. Someone imagining me? Using me as the object of their desires, and actually jerking off to it? I never knew that would be such a confidence boost.

“But seeing you now, it’s even better.”

I can’t help but smile.

“Do you like wearing it?” He asks, “Things like this?”

I look down at myself, covered from head to toe in feminine attire. The way it accentuates my curves and gives me this overwhelming feeling of joy is indescribable. But I only give a sheepish nod. “Mhmm”

“Good.” He smiles, “Because you will be dressed like this very often. If you want me to pay your rent, you are going to be my personal…what word would you like me to use? ‘Slave’? ‘Slut’? ‘Pet’? ‘Bitch’? ‘Whore’?”

“Yes.” I say, indicating I wanted to be all of them. Any word he used to describe me would suffice.

He nods in understanding. “Every day you will do what I say, when I say. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes sir.” He corrects.

“Yes sir.” I repeat.

He reaches a gruff hand out, cupping my chin, rubbing a rough thumb over my cheek. It makes me feel small, subservient, obedient. Like a puppy getting patted. He slips his thumb between my glossy lips. Without even thinking, I start to suck on it.

“How do you want to do this?” He asks, “do you want me to be gentle? Or do you prefer me to be rough and mean?”

It doesn’t take me long to think of the answer. “Rough.” I say around his thumb, then resume sucking.

“You’re sure?” He says, eyebrows raised. “I can be quite harsh.”

I nod, bobbing my head over his thumb like it’s a cock, wishing it were a cock. “Yes sir.”

“Okay.” He shrugs, plopping his thumb from my mouth. “Our safe word will be ‘Roomie’. Use it whenever you feel I’ve gone too far.”

I nod, doubting I would ever need to do so .

He smiles, sitting back, then taps his leg. “Up.”

I’m a bit taken aback, not sure about the order, so he repeats.

“Up. Over my leg. Let’s go.”

Now I understand. I whimper as I crawl over his lap, I’m not sure if I’m just playing a part or am genuinely scared. Perhaps a bit of both. I can feel his cock pulsing in his pants as I put my own almost directly on top of it.

“Someone’s a little excited already.” He chuckles, reaching beneath my skirt to tickle my throbbing boner. He doesn’t pay it much mind though. I can feel him lifting my skirt so that my cheeks are exposed. “Look at your pretty panties.” He muses. I don’t even have time to thank him before I feel a sharp swat on my ass.

“Nnghh!” I yelp.

“You like that?” He asks sternly.

I bite my lip, ass still stinging, but nod. “Yes sir.” My voice is higher pitched, as if falling into submission has caused it to raise an octave.

Five sharp swats, one on each cheek. I whimper with each one. I’ve never gotten a spanking before, I didn’t imagine it would hurt quite so bad. Max doesn’t seem to be holding back, but I trust him. I know this isn’t his first time. I’ve heard the same smacks and yelps coming from his room when he’s brought home a girl–or even a guy sometimes. He seems to be no stranger to a D/s relationship.

Twenty more smacks in quick succession. My ass is on fire now. Where I was embellishing a bit before, my cries of pain have become much more genuine. I grip the cushions of the couch as he shows no signs of stopping.

By 40…or is it 50? I’ve lost count. But I’m having to bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming. Finally, he stops. I can feel the heat radiating from my butt. But my reprieve is short lived, he just needed time to yank my panties down. I give some pitiful plea of “no no no, please!” as he raises his hand to begin the onslaught again.

At around 60 or 70, I’m in literal tears.

“Do you remember your word?”

I nod, sniffling.

“Do you want to use it?”

I clench my eyes closed at what I’m about to say, shaking my head “no sir…”

I can feel him smiling down at me. “Okay then…”

My arms are flailing and legs are kicking with every smack now. He grips the former with his non-spanking hand, and throws his leg over my floundering thighs.

I regret every second of not using the safeword. I still consider using it, but I want to be strong. I want to impress him, as silly as it sounds. I bite my knuckle to keep myself from screaming loud enough to wake the neighbors.The leather of the couch is slick from my tears and snot. His blows aren’t as fast anymore, but they're stronger and more pronounced. Each one makes me squeal and sob pathetically. Whatever respect he had for me before has probably evaporated long ago.

After what seems like forever, the swats finally stop. I’m bawling into the cushions of the couch, and my ass feels like it’s black and blue. It’s a good thing I don’t have a job at the moment, because I doubt I would be able to sit at a desk tomorrow.

“You okay?” he asks softly. His voice has dropped that rough, hardness from before. I nod, not sure whether or not I’m lying.

I feel him fumble for something in his pants. I hear the click of a cap, then a squirt. A cooling sensation coats my buttcheeks as he runs his hand over them with some type of lotion. Did he have that in his pocket this whole time?

Whatever it is, it feels good against my burning bum. He rubs it sensually, taking his time, being gentle despite the damage he inflicted before.

“This is what will happen if you disobey me,” He says. I believe him, and it’s enough to make me not want to ever think about acting up.

He squirts another dollop of lotion, but this time it’s between my cheeks. I can feel his fingers coaxing my crack open. Tracing, searching for my little button.

“I like that you shave your pussy,” He says, “I want it to stay this way.”

I whimper, twitching as he pokes and prods at my hole. I can feel his dick stiffening in my lap as he presses his finger into me. The most pathetic moan escapes my lips before I can stop it. He plunges his finger deeper and deeper into me. I welcome every single knuckle, even press my hips backwards, hungry for more.

He chuckles again, “Such a little slut you are.”

I’m panting, like a bitch in heat. The combination of his finger and his words are driving me crazy. I’m humping backwards against his finger desperately as he presses down on my prostate. Mixed with the now dull throb of my blistered cheeks, it’s almost too much to handle. I’ve always enjoyed my pleasure spiked with pain.

He raises my hips up so that he can have access to my dangling dick underneath. “Such a teeny weeny clitty” he teases, wrapping two fingers around it. He works his hand up and down on my cock while driving his finger in me from behind. Before I know it, I feel that familiar tingle.

“Ask permission to cum.” he growls.

“Can I cum, sir?” I moan, not even bothering to try to make myself sound the least bit masculine. It’s pitchy and pathetic and desperate.

“Not yet.” He continues to work me with his masterful hands. I groan into the couch, grabbing at the cushions, his burly legs, a pillow, anything.

“Please!” I shout, “Sir! Can I cum?! PLEASE!”

I can’t hold out any longer. It’s by some small miracle that he says “You may,” just before I explode all over his lap. A second later and it would have happened without his say-so. What would he have done if I were to cum without his permission? I loathe to find out. He shoves me down on the floor in a heap, gasping for breath. It takes me a couple minutes to collect myself. When I do, he’s still smiling down at me in a victorious sort of way.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks.

“Y-yes…sir…” I say between breaths.

“Good.” he says, “Because you have a mess to attend to.”

He points down at the gooey, white puddle I made on the crotch of his pants.

“Every load you make ends up in your mouth.” He growls, “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir…”

“Clean me up then.”

I don’t have the same eagerness as I did before. I’m a bit repulsed as I crawl between his legs and start lapping up my loser goo. But as my tongue runs over his pants I can feel the outlines of his hardening cock. I suck and slurp the mess off the hem of his pants, running my tongue through the flap of the zipper, making sure I get every last drop. He’s damp by the time I’m done, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He stands up. Again, it’s almost like nothing just happened. He goes to the cabinet, pulls out a glass, fills it up with water and takes a long swig. “Ahhh…” he exhales, looking off into the distance, then eventually back at me. “Go to my room.” He says, “I want you on my bed. Face down. Ass up.”

******

“This is my asshole now!” Max grunts, slapping my tender cheeks while he pumps his cock in and out of my rectum. “Tell me whose ass this is!”

The pillow is moist from me biting and drooling on it to keep from screaming. His dick feels amazing, but I’m not used to being pounded like this. There was only so much training I could do with my dildo…

“It’s your ass, sir!” I squeak louder than the springs of the mattress.

“Daddy.” He growls. “Call me Daddy.”

“It’s your asshole, Daddy! It’s your asshole!”

“I own you,” he groans, “Do you understand??”

“Yes Daddy!” I really gotta get my voice under control. It gets so whiny and wimpy when I’m getting fucked.

I can feel his dick swelling, getting even stiffer than I thought possible. “I’m going to cum!” He tells me, “Where do you want me to cum?”

“In my asshole, Daddy!”

“Whose asshole?!”

“Your asshole!!” I correct.

I can hear him laughing between the grunts, I wonder if we’ll joke about this later. It’s amazing what people say in the heat of the moment.

“I’m gonna breed you like a little bitch!”

“Cum inside me Daddy!”

“You’re fucking miiiine!!” an exasperated groan, a warmth filling my insides, I can feel him convulse behind me as he deposits his load in my rectum. He removes his member and collapses on the bed shortly after.

I don’t know what to do at this point. What do you say to someone that just came inside of you? ‘Thanks’? I wait for him to come to, still in the doggy-style position.

He peeks an eye open. “Go to your room.” He says. “You’re not sleeping here.”

I wonder if, now that he’s lost his lust, he’s no longer interested in me. Is this how girls feel all the time? Constantly wondering whether or not they’re good enough? Worrying if they’ve done something wrong?

I climb off the bed and take the (luckily short) walk of shame back to my room, his cum leaking down my leg.

When I enter through my door, there’s a buzzing coming from my desk. Did I leave one of my vibrating toys on?

No…it’s just my phone, but it shows you where my head has been all day. The light stings my eyes as I look at it. My stomach drops a bit when I see who’s calling.

I tap the little green button.“Hello?”

“You know, Jake…” Zoey’s sweet voice says, “Part of having a girlfriend means you have to actually talk to her on the phone every once in a while!”

To Be Continued

If you're liking where this is going, and would like to read more, head on over to SubStar! My subscribers are currently reading Chapter 7!

#roomies

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hexbimbo · 1 day

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DBD Random Hc #2

General

Obsessions are always given the green light to escape by any means.

Entity purposefully fucks with both sides to heighten tensions. Causes food shortages, droughts, or purposefully triggers killers.

The Entity is unable to create a place or environment without drawing inspiration the real world. It just simply isn’t creative enough.

The Enitiy only takes talented/ interesting survivors who would’ve made an impact on the world. Dwight was accidentally taken.

Ironically, Dwight is who rallies the Survivors and causes the eventually down fall of the Entity.

Leading up to the downfall, Dwight would have to befriend and earn the loyalty of every survivor. ( I would honestly play a tell-tale game like this)

If Evan’s spirit wasn’t broken, he’d start a killer led rebellion.

The more loyal a killer is, better conditions are given. Food, mori’s, and sentimental items to name a few.

Killers who need to be tortured to kill are given the bare minimum.

I personally don’t agree with “ survivors losing their memory post-trial” canon. If they can’t remember, how exactly does that generate the fear or hope the Entity needs to survive? In addition, lost of memory would include not knowing how to do generators, how to counter certain killers, or how trials in general work. You’re seriously telling me a gambler and botanist who’s never left the house knows complex machinery like that?

Survivors 🔥✊

David isn’t out to the group. Scared he’ll be ostracized or purposefully thrown under the bus during trials.

Some of the more self-interested survivors tend to be less thought of in trails. Ace realized he was more likely to be left behind and started doing more for the team, Élodie took it as another reason not to rely on others, and Yun-Jin throws hissy fits because “why didn’t THEY bother to save her.”

Slowly learning each other’s language. Translating for each other is a doozy and often ends up miscommunicated. Hence, why they only point and motion towards themselves in trails. Ain’t no one got time to remember “Come help me with this generator” in Japanese. 😤

On that note, I think the pariahs communicated with broken English and simple gestures that they collectively knew.

Steve likes to pull the “I’m technically older than you” on modern survivors who chastise him.

Survivors eat community, volume meals. It’s a chore no-one likes to do and is assigned day-to-day. If they ever got a chef or cook survivor, that responsibility would be gladly passed to them.

Adam enjoys teaching and educating the younger survivors on little tib-bits. In addition, he will almost always have their back in trails and personal see that they live through it.

“ …and that’s why ‘No Longer Human” was greatly impactful on Japanese culture- don’t you roll your eyes at me! 😡”

Felix and Élodie aren’t on speaking terms at the moment. Keeps their prior friendship and knowledge of the Entity hush-hush. Somehow, both know that information getting out won’t look good for them.

Sable definitely had a “NLOG” phase. Cringes when she thinks back on it.

Jake is dyslexic and can only recognize certain words based on the surrounding context (Red STOP! Sign, do not enter sign on a chain link fence, handicap parking with the wheel chair symbol.)

Killers 🔪🩸

Max tunnels police survivors if they are in uniform. Believes ACAB.

HUX is annoyed by the sounds of breathing. And laughter. And blinking. Sometimes stands outside of the camp ground so it can make itselfs mad.

Trickster will sometimes, SOMETIMES let a survivor go if they praise him enough.

Kazan is in deep disbelief about the state of his family legacy. Refuses to believe it was his own doing that caused the curse and often blames history for painting him in a bad light.

Legion rock, paper, scissors for who goes next for a trial.

Had Rin survived the attack, she would’ve broken the family’s curse.

Anna was very scared during her first period ( her mother died way before they could have “the talk”.) Convinced herself it was a deadly disease. As she grew older and stronger, her periods became few and far due to her survivalist nature.

Jeffery is kept on a strict diet regarding his addictions. Only gifted booze, herion, and large amounts of food with good performance.

Danny obsessives over the survivors. Takes pictures in secret and writes news paper stories on their many ‘deaths’.

Onryō will never not be confused by Nic’s “Sadako! Not you!”

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mllemaenad · 2 days

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So – Bethesda broke Fallout 4's script extender. Because of course they did. What better way to celebrate the release of your new TV show than to stall people's ongoing playthroughs? Excellent work. I don't even want an Enclave quest. It's Creation Club nonsense, so it won't actually be a proper quest anyway.

I want to finish my Sim Settlements 2 playthrough. Ugh.

So while I'm waiting for the dust to settle on that, I thought I'd give Fallout 76 another go. I am rebuilding my mod list for Fallout 3, but that's a work in progress. And Fallout 76 is right there.

I created a new character, because I haven't played this thing in ages and I know they've changed a bunch of the mechanics. And oh - ha. I mean, I had thought from the beginning that creating a game without NPCs was a terrible idea, because it's hard to invest in saving an empty world. But the addition of them makes playing the game's original main quest a distinctly bizarre experience.

I don't mean that I'm suddenly pro-empty world. Not at all. In general the presence of factions and personalities and people you can care about it a good thing.

But when they made this game, the writers and quest designers were given "empty world" as a parameter within which they had to work. And they did.

It's sort of an interesting, even bold, choice for a storyline because it does not allow you to feel good about yourself at all. Most Fallout games do. Oh, you can play evil if you want, sure, and there are a handful of side quests that are genuinely no win scenarios. But mostly? You can save the world. And you will probably have a better experience if you try to: there's more to do when you talk to the NPCs and deal with their problems rather than just murdering everyone and taking their stuff.

But Fallout 76 is just judging you.

I keep thinking about its promotional song – that really upbeat cover of Take Me Home, Country Roads, and all the imagery in the old trailer, about rebuilding and looking to the future. But all of that is functionally a lie, and the key lines in that song come towards the end:

I hear her voice in the mornin' hour, she calls me The radio reminds me of my home far away Drivin' down the road, I get a feelin' That I should've been home yesterday, yesterday – Take Me Home, Country Roads

You should have been home yesterday. You should have been home a thousand yesterdays ago. This story is all about the past, and a rebuilding effort you neglected to join. It hits you with the guilt straight away, as the very first place the game takes you is an old outpost of emergency service personnel who just kept on doing their jobs after the bombs fell. It's their notes and recordings that teach you how to survive.

Of course you encounter less pleasant people later: raiders and Enclave, and honestly I have little patience for any iteration of The Brotherhood of Steel. But even there, you can see that the misunderstandings and conflicts and general fuck ups might have been resolved with a competent mediator.

And that is exactly what you are. You're a Fallout protagonist. You don't have the time to spend ten years sitting in a lab, but you excel at travelling from town to town and dealing with whatever obstacle is stopping a faction from moving forward. Fallouts 1-4 and assorted spin offs have taught us all that.

Even in universe, Vault 76 is stated to be full of literal geniuses. It is packed with doctors and scientists and engineers: exactly the people the world needed to deal with a combination of plague and environmental crisis.

If you were there, you could have fixed this.

But you were not there. You were sitting comfortably in a vault, while other, better people tried to save the world.

And they were almost there. They had a vaccine. Even with everything, they had a vaccine. They did the work, they had a plan. As you play through this quest, you stand upon the shoulders of giants at almost every stage, implementing the very last step in a plan that really does work. Had they lived, even a few months longer ... but they didn't, and you did nothing to help them.

It wasn't even necessary to spend 25 years in that vault, as it is abundantly clear that the area around 76 has been habitable this whole time. Challenging, sure: I am in no way suggesting that it was an easy existence. But it was not instant irradiated death.

Every other Fallout protagonist steps out of their vault (or other entry scenario) in time to make things right. Maybe just in time, but nevertheless. They walk into a fractured world and get to work. But not you. You took the easy route.

How proud are you of that Best Dental Hygiene award now?

Given that it is set so close to the Great War, and deals with first generation survivors, it gives one of the best looks at the cynical cruelty of Vault-Tec: when they talk about rebuilding the world, it only means rebuilding for its own benefit and profit. Anyone not part of their plan is more than welcome to die in a hole.

It ties in very nicely with the television series, actually. Lucy laments that she was waiting to rebuild the world, but it all happened without her - and Vault-Tec actively tried to destroy that new world (and at least up to a point, seems to have succeeded). Her people waited over 200 years, but it didn't take that long. Twenty-five were quite enough.

But with the new version ... I mean, it really takes the sting out of it. It looks like everybody had a few rough years there, but it's all turned out fine. There's a burgeoning civilisation here, with homesteads and caravans and trade. I can't go two steps without an NPC asking to borrow a bobby pin, and even the raiders are more territorial than outright destructive (although – is nobody going to go up that completely safe little hill and give poor Miguel a funeral? Come on guys, clean up the damn corpses).

The tragedy of the whole thing, and the weight of your own inaction, is largely gone. You can't reshape the world and still make the same impact with that narrative.

I don't know, I guess I just can't quite get behind the whole multiplayer-ness of the thing. The world can't really change as you complete quests. You can't really rebuild. But likewise, if the world does change, it has to change for everyone at the same time, regardless of where they are in the story.

It could still work, I think, if you could play through that story and then see the caravans come over the hill, and start to rebuild the world.

Because that might feel a bit like redemption.

#fallout #fallout 76 #fallout tv series #fallout tv spoilers

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jaykorianddickkoriforlife · 1 year

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I'm the most laziest person out there. I know some people complain about it, but I get so happy when I read some stories on Ao3 that are completed with only one chapter and like 60,000 words, or more idc, or stories that have the scrolling bar so small in each chapter because of how long it is. I love it, and the biggest reason y is because I don't have to click the 'next chapter' button, and wait for it to load. That's how lazy I am, and you could say I can just click on the 'entire work' option, but I'm not a fan of having to pass over the notes at the end of each chapter, it throws me off. I just like being immersed completely without interruptions.

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shokupanko · 2 months

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It’s not Monday but it’s certainly Mayu Monday for me! This is my only artwork for March so I’ll see you all again in April or soon after! （⌒▽⌒ゞ

Pantyhose: I actually went back then forth trying to decide between bare legs and pantyhose but I ultimately decided pantyhose was the way to go. The pantyhose are meant to match the corset except no leather and comfort of course. It has lace details and a leather belt on her left leg. The lace stops around her ankles.

Hair: to stay within steampunk territory, I decided to make her hair fluffy, swirly, and lots of curl heart shapes. I don’t like to use one range of colors so I made the choice to go with my heart and make it extra colorful! (Although Mayu’s hair always proves to be a challenge (∩︵∩)

Makeup: I tried to make her extra girly- sorta 40s makeup vibe. So red lipstick and pink blush. I also tried to make her details more rounded to give a softer appearance :D

Shoes: it was my try of Mary Jane’s inspired shoes so please remember they are NOT accurate. She has small legs warmers over the shoes and tied off with pink bows, a short heel, and golden beads to go around the rim.

Gloves: blacks gloves with the tips of her thumb, middle, and ring fingers revealed, and well as leather and golden beads to go around and lace at the bottoms.

Dress: sheesh I’ll try to explain as well and possible… the dress comes with a color, ruffles, folds, and lots of lace for the underskirt. She has two belts below the sleeves to emphasize the ruffles. The dress also comes with a front tying corset that I took extra care to seem functional. The corset comes with lace, leather, and POCKETS! Because every girly in a dress needs pockets (she was originally gonna have a gun in her beta design shhh). The pockets are attached to the leather part of the corset in the back, and is also joined with golden beads? Buttons? Idk those things. She also has three rows of the golden beads on her skirt!

Hat: Her top hat is decorated in clocks, chains, and gears for a some steampunk effect, as well as a pink bow and pink bunny ears. Around the hat is black lace and under the hat is pink lace for some pop!

#vocaloid #art #fanart #vocaart #procreate #original design #mayu monday #steampunk #I know I don’t normally do extra text in my posts but I REALLY wanted to talk about this design because I poured my soul into it #I honestly tried to make it as cute and functional as possible #I also with think of Mayu as a more modest person so less skin showing just felt right #also I TRIED MOSTLY LINELESS ART WHAT DO YOU THINK???#oh I’m trying to make a fulll drawing and least once a month and now I don’t have any energy for anything else so that’s that #I really wanted to give Mayu a gun but I thought a doll look was better (I have regrets)#anyway #what do you guys think???#also yes I’ve seen the requests and I’m working on them!! just taking some time and brain meating #thank you for your reposts and support! I love you all ❤️❤️❤️#I see you everywhere justgoji

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lovelesslittleloser · 7 months

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People should be more afraid of asexuals, because they’re the only people that are immune to one of the seven deadly sins

#seven deadly sins #maybe they have metaphorical lust. lust for the aesthetic #asexual #we also should fear aromantics but they aren’t necessarily immune to lust so fear them for the usual reasons #pride? sometimes can be negated by self-hatred but usually shows up when you do something to be proud of. as it should #greed? you might donate your money to orphans but if anyone touches your collection of shiny trinkets their hand will be removed #envy? unless you have never met any other living beings I don’t think it’s possible to escape this one #wrath? work in public service for a week and we’ll get you wanting to fistfight god #gluttony? eating disorders are a thing; however you should definitely eat something unless you wanna die #sloth? insomnia is a thing. but you should probably sleep if you don’t want to be driven mad upon the rocks #honestly too little of the seven deadly sins is also bad. no sloth? you’re barely functioning. no gluttony? you die of starvation.#no wrath? you’ll become a doormat. no envy? you’ll never want to improve yourself. no greed? you give all your stuff away and are now poor #no pride? you don’t love yourself AT ALL. no lust? no new generation.#and frankly that last one isn’t bad in the slightest considering that much is also true for people with a same-gender significant other #(unless they are also trans and willing but that’s a them problem to have)#plus overpopulation is a thing anyway so frankly the less lust the better.#the avatar of lust has been too overworked the past few decades and and wants a damn break for once #tw eating issues #tw eating disorder #eating disorder mention #shitpost

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tenrose · 2 months

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I don't like to follow bookstagram trends but I find one super interesting (it's definitely NOT reading a popular bookstagram book).

I'm currently working on creating a box to randomly pick the next book I read. I have hopes to lower my tbr, well with my erratic reading sessions and me ordering second hand books cause I can buy more, it's gonna be a harsh task. Also it's gonna helping me read the books I bought to step out my comfort zone and then I ignored them. But also books that are in my comfort zone but have been here for year. And since my apartment is very small, yet 1/3 books if I avoid the same book lot of time, I will get rid of it.

BUT

While crafting this at past 10pm in the middle of the working week cause I needed to do it now (didn't finish considering the numbers of unread books I read), I have been struck by a sudden illumination.

Maybe, and really maybe, it's a hypothesis, I could apply the jar stuff for the daily stuff I have to do, chores, administrative paperwork, everything a normal human adult has to do. Maybe I could pick a task to do every day and it feels less overwhelming. I definitely need to try it.

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anipgarden · 7 months

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Ani Reviews: Hellstrip Gardening

Alrighty homies here's another Informal Book Review. This is the second time I've done a book review, but I hope this is helpful!

[Photo ID: a book, titled "Hellstrip Gardening: Create a paradise between the sidewalk and the curb" by Evelyn J. Hadden (Author of Beautiful No-Mow Yards) With photographs by Joshua McCullough, Foreword by Lauren Springer Ogden]

Out of the seven books I checked out from the library this round, I picked this one second because not only was I looking forward to the read, but so were some friends in my gardening server! Its one of, if not the longest book in the stack--the main contents are 279 pages total--but its definitely well worth the read! You can see where I live blogged it here.

The inspiration and energy in this book is potent! By the time I finished reading the foreword and the introduction, I was already dreaming up new gardening projects to work on next spring, and that energy stayed up all the way until the end! It definitely helps that the photos in this book are absolutely gorgeous! Seriously, even if you aren't wanting to make a front yard garden, I'd recommend this book for cool garden photos alone! This is another one of those books that's way more relevant if you're the home owner, or a landscaper (or just got permission from your parents to do some front yard gardening), but even still so much of the advice in this book is great for just about any kind of gardening as well! Between beautiful photos of front yard gardens others have already done, tons of encouragement and advice on how to handle anything from trees to poor soils to outdated laws and HOA boards, and a deluge of plant recommendations for different grow zones and purposes, it's definitely a valuable resource!

After the introduction, this book is separated into four major sections referred to as Parts. There's Inspirations, Situations, Creation, and Curbside-Worthy Plants. If you're looking for ideas on what a converted yard can look like, Inspirations and Creation is the place to go. If you're unsure how to do so with any specific circumstances you may be facing, Situations is the section for you. So on and so forth. All in all, between the gorgeous photos, and the amazing content, this was a fairly quick read for me!

I will say, this is a book aimed directly for gardeners in the US. While some of the general advice might be good for people abroad, at the end of the day its a book written in an American perspective for gardeners in America. That being said, it focuses on America as a whole--so if you're hoping for a dedicated section on how to do what you want in your state specifically, you might get lucky, you might get unlucky. I know the example garden for my state wasn't anything I'd be excited about, meanwhile there's three sample gardens for Minnesota (two in Minneapolis) and there's only twelve sample gardens in the book! Also, if you're looking for a book to tell you to only ever use native plants in your garden, this isn't the one--the book will eagerly encourage you use native plants, and will implore you to remove any invasive plants that may be on your property, but is also more than welcome to recommending well behaved non-native plants. Let it be known that I don't think this is a problem at all! But if you're picky about that, I'm just letting that be known.

Oh and also one final note. The book is called Hellstrip Gardening, and it does talk about hellstrips, but it doesn't only talk about hellstrips. A good chunk of the example gardens don't even have hellstrips. This book talks plenty about full yard transformation! Which I find fantastic and enlightening! If you're looking for a book that's only about hellstrips, though, this isn't it.

All in all, this is an amazing book with amazing photos, 10/10 could probably show to someone to get them to see the light of front yard gardens.

#ani reviews #ani rambles #out of queue #hellstrip gardening #I think another cool thing about this book is that it--albeit briefly--addresses some of the fears people might have about converted yards #like it doesn't go into full detail about all of them but it at least acknowledges it #which is honestly better than what a lot of articles i've read or the other book I've read in this stack have done #and granted the info they gave about alleviating tick fears isn't anything I haven't heard off a headspace hotel post #but it is nice to see it acknowledged in a published work!#still not sure if I would be able to convince My Mom to do something like this #because outside of 'wide paths' it gives no advice about Snakes and thats probably my mom's biggest concern outside of 'yard is lawn is gra #and my previous google search attempts yielded Nothing Helpful in that front #but thats less of a flaw of the book itself and more of a 'hurdle i personally gotta figure out'#i am getting off topic lets end the tags here gbye

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