#how did i forget to post this one on here...........
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favoritebatfam · 3 days ago
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It will never not be funny to me that this is my most popular post, when this post was a decision I made after agreeing to fulfill a prompt, and then forgetting until the last moment.
However, since you all love this so much, here are my thoughts on everyone else else’s reactions.
When the news is broken to the people in Arkham, there is a riot of people who are attempting to break out to find Bruce. A third of them want to shake his hand, a third of them want to kill him so as to a stop themselves as better, and a third of them want to marry him. (To be honest, most of the ones who wanted to marry him already did, but this was a major bonus.)
Harley and Harvey are working together to try and get out to find Bruce so that they can thank him (Harley) and kiss him (Harvey) and talk to him about his lack of self preservation (Both).
The rest of the Justice League saw the news the next day and are frantically trying to get in contact with Batman. Clark is in space at the moment, so he doesn’t know yet and the rest of the justice league is keeping him in the dark so he doesn’t leave in the middle of a very important diplomatic mission.(They also are very worried about how Clark will react when he hears the news.)
Red Hood’s goons are very confused by what’s going on, but they’re trying to be very supportive of their boss. Everyone in the alley knows that Red Hood had a giant issue with the Joker, so they aren’t very worried about Bruce Wayne. However, they are worried about the mess that Red Hood has gotten himself into by taking Bruce Wayne home with him.
There is a giant increase in BrucexBatman, fanfiction, and people start writing Red HoodxBruce fanfiction. Also, Wayne Enterprises gets a giant boost in sales.
When Talia hears about all of this, she is both furious and impressed. When Damian hears about this, he runs away because his Akhi is with his father and clearly needs support.(He is also very proud of his father.)
Also, may I provide you with the mental image of Bruce, crying in red hood’s arms begging for him to let him go so that he can join his boy again? I will also provide you with the image of Jason, taking off his helmet and Bruce believing that he’s an angel taking him to the afterlife, and that all of his growth is just Bruce seeing what his boy would’ve looked like if he had survived. 
Brucie Wayne accidentally killing the joker
This happens before Red Hood is revealed as Jason, but after he shows up. Bruce is at a gala and has been very stressed lately, which is why he was so caught off guard with the Joker arriving. A big thing about today? It’s Jason’s adoption day anniversary. Bruce is barely clinging to being good.
However, Joker has a new laughing gas that he thought would make everyone fall into a catatonic state of laughter, striking a blow against all of Gotham’s elite.
That’s what he thought it would do.
Instead, it lowered inhibitions and increased their emotions. It also reduced their ability to think things through. Doing this to Bruce, who is stressed with Red Hood making moves and Justice League stuff getting more stressful and it being the anniversary of the day he could finally welcome his beautiful boy into the family, only to be face to face with the reason he lost his kid?
It only takes one comment about the old Robin for Bruce to go feral.
He isn’t thinking things through, isn’t focused on how hard he is hitting things, or where they are moving until he’s on a balcony with the Joker, and he’s distantly aware he’s been screaming about the clown having done enough-
Everyone watches, spellbound, as Brucie Wayne, under the influence of this new gas, pitches both the Joker and himself off the balcony, twenty stories above the ground.
Red Hood catches Brucie Wayne.
No one catches the Joker.
The morning papers scream about how the Joker died from Gotham’s prince being drugged, and how the city’s new crime lord kidnapped Brucie before he could die.
Everyone in Gotham is in disarray.
Dick is panicking after seeing the headline. (He was in Bludhaven.)
Tim is cursing himself. (He was home sick with the flu.)
Jason is struggling with his emotions.
Alfred is loading his shot gun.
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reminiscingthesea · 3 days ago
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Part three of yandere stalker Phainon x nerdy reader !!
A/N- i don’t know how many times I’m gonna say this, but ty guys sm for all the support and love ive been receiving under comments!! I really enjoy reading them!!
Part 1 and part 2!:
Warning- Contains smut, reader is inexperienced, insecure thoughts, foul language, manhandling, AFAB reader
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It had been some time since that incident, and it was safe to say, you were truly shaken to your core. Luckily, your boyfriend best friend Phainon was here to help keep yourself safe during such difficult times. He walked with you to your lectures, even if it meant being late to his, he accompanied you whenever you went out, especially at later hours, he messaged you everyday, asking things like how you were, what you ate, if he needed to come over, if you needed a cry or a laugh. The two of you spent hours on the phone, too. Going to sleep on call and waking up to burning hot phones and a time reader that read- “7:46:50”- He was truly too good for you, and it made you doubt yourself. Did he truly like you? Was he still giving mixed signals? Was he doing this out of the kindness of his heart, or because he felt as though he had a duty to as your best friend?
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“.. Phainon, you’re too good to me- taking me out to dinner at such an expensive restaurant and not letting me pay you back? I really don’t deserve this, your kindness..” You spoke timidly, keeping your eyes down on your plate of delicious, well seasoned food- which was lobster Thermidor with a side of cute, buttery bread buns that were oh-so soft. You felt a small rush of heat dust onto the skin of your cheeks as Phainon gently interlocked his hand with yours from the other end of the table, leaning his head down to get a glimpse of your face, a small, loving smile gracing his lips.
“C’mon, don’t say that.. we’ve grown so close together over these past few months, and it’s nearly the end of the semester, you know I like treating you to nice places for dinner.” He spoke softly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, before continuing. “I like treating my closest to dinner, and you’re very close to me, [Name]. Never forget that.”
You looked at him with slightly widened eyes now, taking in his deep words. Was this his way of confessing his love for you? No, it couldn’t be. Phainon treats all of his friends to lunch and dinner, but not normally at a price like this..
“I don’t know what to say, Phainon.. I’m so, so grateful to you, you’ve helped me so much. But please listen to me. Don’t waste your time on someone like me. You deserve someone better, prettier, outgoing- I just make things awkward between us since I’m not as chatty with you, I..” Sighing shakily, you looked at him with tears welling in your eyes. “Just please, tell me how I could ever repay you.. you’ve saved my life countless of times, I’m truly indebted to you..”
Phainon looked back at you with an equally as sad look, he looked like a kicked puppy who was left in the rain by its owner.
“I understand that such traumatic events will alter your view on your worth, make you feel bad about yourself. But [Name], when I tell you that you truly mean so much to me, I mean it. You don’t have to believe me right now, but I’ll wait. Albeit, sadly. But as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” How he wanted to confess to you right then and there on the spot, but he himself had his own doubts that he just couldn’t wrap his head around as to why he had them.. he had removed every obstacle in his way- your bullies, Mydei, danger- and had your trust and respect for him. So why now was he so hesitant? Was all of this for nothing? Was he worried you’d reject him due to your beliefs on how he’s too good for you?
Even then though, he had a small thought at the back of his head that told him ‘Don’t confess, and you’ll only hurt her more.’
You could only nod and carry on with the rest of your dinner, a somber, dejected look on your face, and he copied too. The rest of your dinner was awkward to say the least. Neither of you looked each other in the eyes, only sneaking quick glances when the other wasn’t looking, nor did the two of you talk, until the bill came- to which Phainon paid the whole sum of 10,500 credits, as you gave him a pouty look from across the table.
As the two of you walked out and begun making your ways back to campus, you clutched his wrist delicately.
“Phainon. I promise to pay you back, okay? Just don’t reject it, please..”
To this, Phainon could only laugh quietly and turn to face you fully. ‘You could pay me back with your love’ he thought to himself as he began speaking.
“Oh, fine. Since you’re so stubborn and such a sweetheart, I’ll let you pay me back. But! At a discounted price of 50% off. I don’t make the rules.”
You sputtered slightly and shook him, shaking your head.
“50%?! I can’t pay you back only 50% of the money you spent on me today!” You exclaimed, a crazed expression on your face as you tried to get him to change his price to a higher one.
“Oh? 50% isn’t a good enough percentage? Oh fine, since you’re such a good negotiator, I’ll let you pay me a maximum of 25%! A minimum of 0%, is allowed though.” He teased lightly, winking and grinning as he saw your face morph into a more frustrated one.
Suddenly, you shoved a bunch of credits to his chest and grabbed his hands to clutch them
“Look. I wanna do something nice for you to pay you back. I won’t let you win this either- so just take the credits and this’ll all be over.” You concluded confidently, as the pair of you reached your campus’ entrance and walked right in. You had a dead-set, stubborn look on your face as you walked back to your dorm, and Phainon could only laugh in adoration as he stuffed the credits into his wallet.
“Oh alright fine! You win! I’ll stop ruffling your feathers and let you pay me back tenfold. But just know, I’m gonna be spending even more money on you next time! And ah-ah-ah! Don’t even think about taking it as an opportunity to pay me back even more, I won’t let it happen!” He declared loudly in the otherwise empty hallway besides the two of you standing outside your dorm room. ‘He’s so perfect..’ you pondered to yourself quietly, before flashing him a small, sweet smile. But there was a hint of sadness behind it, and Phainon saw.
But before Phainon could talk to you further, you quickly said your goodbyes and waved him off, before disappearing into your dorm room.
Phainon stood there, an unreadable look on his face as he stared at the now closed door in front of him. How badly he wanted to break that door down and make you love him just as he loved you. But he simply, couldn’t bring himself to do so.
How pathetic of him.
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Sitting at his desk, he opened his computer screen to monitor your activities through the camera in your room. It was something he hadn’t done as often as before, considering how much closer the two of you became over these last few weeks. Though, he made a mental note to sneak in another camera from a different part of your room, just for better… angles. The mirror might be a good option!
However, the sight that absolutely blessed his dirty little eyes of faux purity, was truly a sight to behold.
It was you, on your bed, with nothing but a shirt on. Your panties were long discarded on the floor, and so too was your bra, assuming it was the soft blue pair of underwear laying on the floor just a few meters from his bed.
Immediately, blood rushed to his cock as he pulled it out from his shorts, quickly rubbing his hand up and down over its generous length, his thumb gently teasing his tip, the same way he gently rolled it against the back of your hand before. His mouth agape, eyes lidded as he continued watching the footage reverently.
But what got him really going, was when you brought two fingers to your pussy, which he obviously couldn’t see considering the camera’s placement on your headboard behind your bed. But it had an elevated view, so he saw how the two fingers gently eased their way into your cunt slowly, whilst your thumb teased at your clit.
“F-fuck..! fuck, so- mmghh…” You moaned softly, rocking your hips to no specific beat, as your finger on your bud worked harder to provide more stimulation. But after a few moments, your loving moans turned into whines and whimpers of frustration and sadness. Phainon, who was edging himself to hear your moans, heard this change, causing a pout to adorn his gracious face.
“Oh, [Name].. you must be having so much trouble trying to please yourself… if only I was th-“
“If only you were here, Phainon… you’d make me feel so good….”
Oh.
oh.
To this, Phainon immediately stood up from his desk, eyes widening and face flushing. The shock was enough to send him over the edge, cum spewing onto the table in front of him. He bent over the table, his head tilted upwards to look at his computer’s screen as you continued your strings of moans of pleasure, but also sadness. He began rubbing his cock, now hot, sticky, and even harder, much faster now, your moans and his creating a beautiful symphony.
Finishing with a gasp, he buried his face in his arms, breathing heavily. However, you were still touching yourself, moaning weakly, trying to reach your peak of pleasure like the guy behind the camera, but nothing.
“..Poor [Name].. unable to please herself without my guidance?..” He whispered softly to himself, slowly getting up to his full height and looking down at the computer screen of you pathetically trying to please yourself, whilst also murmuring degrading comments about yourself in the process.
“Nobody gets to hurt what I love. Not even yourself.. I will show you my love for you, [Name].. I’ve been stupid enough to deprive you of it for so long…” His fingers gently caressed your form on his computer screen, a hint of sadness behind them.
He knew what he had to do. He had to show you his soaring love for you, a love that knew know bounds, a love that he starved of you by his own insecurities. He hurt you, and he was going to change that.
He began cleaning his desk.
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You sobbed pathetically into your pillow, you couldn’t do it. God, you were so bad at everything, even at pleasing your own cunt. You couldn’t even do it yourself, you needed someone- someone who you probably doesn’t even like you-. Feeling the wetness of your cunt beneath your ass now, you let out a shaky sigh, on the verge of bursting into even louder cries of frustration and disappointment.
Amidst your tantrum, you heard loud, firm knocks on your dorm room’s door. Scrambling to get your clothes back on, you messily made it to the door, not caring about your appearance besides having some clothes on. Your hair was a mess, your face was flushed and wet with tears, your lips and legs quivering as you opened the door to see Phainon.
“P-Phainon- I’m sorry I don’t look good-“
“Let me in, [Name]. We need to talk.”
He pushed himself past you as you closed the door, before his hand met your wrist and pulled you close to him, pinning you against the wall near a table. Your vision became blurry as your eyes darted across the room in shock. Phainon’s hand cupped your face, turning it to face him fully as he spoke.
“I’ve held this for too long. [Name], I love you. I’ve loved you this entire time. And I know you love me too, you were just too scared to say it. Ever since… ever since we met, I’ve always thought about you, the things we’d do together as a couple. Kisses, romantic dates, cute things.. I need you. And you need me too. You’re perfect for me, and I’m perfect for you.” His voice was quiet and husky as he spoke, his face so close to yours, your lips almost touching his as he spoke. Your eyes widened, tears brimming in them once more, your mouth agape.
“Ph..Phainon.. I love you- I love you so much- you don’t know how happy I am to hear this I-“ Without thinking, you crashed your lips against his, capturing him in a soft kiss. You’ve never kissed anyone before, but this felt right, as he reciprocated just as fervently. Phainon then deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he pinned you harder against the wall, his knee coming up between your legs, his hand tangling into your hair.
You could only moan softly in response as you grinded needily, helplessly, against his knee, seeking the pleasure you’ve been so starved of all this time. With a few deep gasps of air from you and him, his mouth took refuge on your neck, his head burying in the crook of it as he mouth began sucking and leaving large love marks on the soft skin.
“Gonna show you my love for you, yeah? Gonna fuck it into you for being such a good girl and waiting all this time for me..” He picked you up off the floor, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your legs wrapped around his waist, before carrying you back to your room.
He laid you down on your bed carefully, before peeling your clothes off, one by one. His touch was worshipping, reverent, his eyes never leaving yours. He smiled softly to himself as he took your pants off, breaking his gaze with yours as he glanced at your panties, the same light blue ones that were discarded on the ground just a few minutes ago.
As he peeled off your panties, revealing your glistening cunt to him, he threw it aside, along with the rest of your discarded clothes on the floor besides the bed. He took his shirt off, making way for his muscular, defined torso and body. You swore you saw stars in that moment, heat creeping up onto your face as your hand unconsciously lifted up to caress the firm skin there. Phainon chuckled, breaking you out of your stupor.
“Like the view?” He teased playfully, a smug, but loving grin on his face as your eyes met with his once more. He lightly took your hand and interlocked it with his, before coming back down on you and kissing you softly, his hair tickling your cheeks as he did so. Whilst you were so caught up with the kiss, you didn’t catch his free hand running up your thigh, creeping near towards your ever growing, wet pussy, teasing the sensitive flesh around it.
You squirmed as his toned, but slim fingers began teasing the entrance of your cunt’s hole, almost rimming it with the pad of his fingers, before gently siding them in.
“Phainon!~” You gasped sweetly, holding onto his hand tighter as his fingers worked their magic within the gummy walls of your hole. Your hips jerked slightly as his thumb rubbed the ever-so sensitive bud of your clit in circular motions. He smirked to himself as he felt your walls tighten so nicely around his fingers, it almost made him cum again, as he thought of how much tighter you’d wrap yourself around his needy, greedy cock later on. But he had to prepare you first. After all, what’s love without passion and care?
His fingers then began increasing the speed of their thrusts, curling up gorgeously within you, hitting such sweet spots, making you squirm and whimper in pure pleasure. Tears began flooding the shape of your eyes once more, moans being robbed from your throat as his thumb worked even quicker ministrations against your clit. The knot deep within you grew tighter, so so tight, about to snap- until his fingers curled deeply and hitting a sensitive spot in you- before you moaned his name loudly- squirting and coming undone right then and there, all over his hand.
You saw white for a few moments, your gaze glassy as you came back to reality through Phainon’s hand gently stroking your arm.
“Look at you.. so needy and desperate for me.. you squirt like a whore, but you seem inexperienced” He mused to himself, basking in how your expression changed from pure ecstasy to embarrassment and slight shame.
“I am inexperienced, so what? You think someone like me’s gotten game before..?” You replied hastily, a slight bite behind your tone as you spoke, to which, Phainon only smiled apologetically.
“I’m not shaming you, I’m more than honoured to be your first. I’ll never let you forget this.”
He pulled his fingers out, which were now coated in your secretions and slick, before licking them clean, ravishing the taste. Then, he pressed a chaste kiss against your cheeks and lips, as his head began pressing sweet kisses along your collarbones, going down, down, down, until his face was met with your sopping, heavenly pussy. He’s always wanted to taste you like this. Make you squirm in delight and pleasure as his tongue would work wonders against the skin of your beautiful cunt.
He didn’t wait for a response as he dived right in, his warm tongue coming out and rolling against your clit, making you jerk your hips up again in delight and satisfaction. He roughly held them down with his hands on each bone, before lifting your legs up over his shoulders for better access. He revelled in the way your thighs tightened around his neck, closing in as his tongue inserted itself into your dripping pussy’s hole, making quiet slurping noises against the flesh, bringing his hand back to stimulate your poor clit again. Your movements and squirms only made him eat you out quicker, more devoutly, aiming to please you and only you as you drew closer to falling over the edge.
“P-phainon- Phainon! I-I can fucking feel it I- please..” He could tell you were coming closer to the edge once more, and the ministrations of his tongue and fingers only quickened in response. Your hand gripped onto his pearly white locks tightly as you grew even closer to cloud nine. And then, with a sharp jerk of your hips against his head, you came all over his mouth with a loud cry, throwing your head back in delicious pleasure, your hips grinding against him as his tongue obediently lapped against your pussy, taking in all of your smooth, rich, sweet cum, coating his lips like lip gloss. He hesitantly pulled away from the comfort and warmth of your pussy and legs, carefully setting them back down on the bed, caging him in, his hand caressing the soft skin of your trembling thighs.
“You taste amazing.. you need a taste of yourself.” He whispered against your ear now, bringing his head up and kissing you again, your essence invading your tastebuds; a foreign taste.
“Phainon, wanna make you feel good too..” You spoke sweetly, getting up and pushing Phainon down into a sitting position. He moved to a side of your bed, as you got off and got onto your knees, beginning to remove his pants hastily.
“Someone’s desperate” He teased again, spreading his legs for your better access as you pulled his pants down, now staring at the giant bulge protruding through his boxers. You then pulled them down, before being met with his girthy, thick, big cock, which bobbed against his abs. In a nervous daze, you grabbed it with you hand softly, kissing the angry red tip that leaked sweet precum all over it.
“It’s really big..” You whimpered, slowly stroking his length, tightening your hand around it for more pleasure. Phainon laughed faintly, grabbing onto your hair, his grip tightening slightly as you jerked him off faster, his head lolling back a little.
“Gonna make you feel good too..” You promised, before slowly taking in his whole dick in your mouth, your cheeks puffing out from his great size, as it filled up your throat. With soft gags and moans, you began sucking him off, tightening your mouth and throat around him and bobbing your head up and down.
To this, Phainon moaned your name loudly, throwing his head back as he pushed his length further down your throat, pushing your head deeper, his grip on your hair becoming even stronger. Just as he dreamed, you looked up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes of yours as you’d suck him off, mouth full of him, your sounds of struggle and gags playing a part in sending him over the edge.
“Fuck.. you suck cock like a whore too, you’re so- fuck, ah~.. good at this, aren’t you? I’ll p-pay you back… tenfold-“ He uttered loudly as he was nearing his peak of pleasure. Feeling his cock pulsate in your throat, you tried sucking him off faster, until his thick, warm, gooey cum filled your mouth, to which you immediately gagged at, taking his cock out your mouth and gagging slightly. The taste wasn’t something you were used to, of course not. So as you coughed up the cum, Phainon lifted you up off your legs and onto his lap, rubbing your back as you coughed up.
“Shh.. you sucked me off so fucking good. Wanted to make me feel all good too? What a sweetheart, hm?.. You want my cock to fuck your sensitive, tight pussy? Yeah?” He continued praising you as he moved the two of you back to the head of the bed. He was now sitting beneath you as your hands met with the headboard above your bed, your face leaning right next to the camera there.
But he wasn’t worried about that right now, as your legs caged him by the his sides next to his hips, your pussy just above his cock.
“P-Phainon.. what if it doesn’t fit?” You asked worriedly, now taking in his full length with your eyes as you looked down at him and his cock, your eyes meeting his face, which had a look of love and affection painted onto it.
“You’ll be fine, you’ll take me in just good, y’hear?”
With enough reassurance, Phainon held your hips as you slowly, carefully, aligned your cunt’s entrance with the head of his cock, and gently lowered yourself onto it. You cried out as he stretched you out, feeling his whole size fill you up within a matter of seconds. And once you had fully engulfed his cock, you bottomed out, crying in pleasure, almost about to cum just from the feeling of his cock inside you.
“See, taking me like a champ. Now, start riding me, just move your hips like that- yes, fuck.. you’re so good…”
You rocked your hips, moving up and down on his cock, pants of pleasure coming out of your mouths, your own eyes rolling back at the pleasure as you rode him. You sped up your riding to let him cum quickly, still eagerly wanting to please him just as he did with you before. As he moaned in pleasure and held your hips with a bruising grip, he looked up at you with pure reverence and admiration in his eyes. The way your eyes rolled back, or closed in pleasure and determination, the way your hair fell over your face, the way you bit your lip in pleasure, trying to hold back your moans.
But he could see you were growing restless and tired as you bounced and rode him quickly, trying to make him feel good.
“Phai..non.. I’m so tired- I’m sorry- couldn’t make you feel good..” You sobbed pathetically, your voice soft as you sniffled in familiar frustration, the ache in your thighs and hips growing less dull and quiet, and more pronounced and intense.
At this Phainon shushed you gently, coaxing you to move a bit and change your position, so that you weren’t hunched over the headboard, and instead, sitting over him, cock stilled within you. He then, without a word, lifted you effortlessly by your hips, as if taking you off his cock, before slamming you right back down onto it, his tip now hitting the spongey sweet spot within you. You threw your head back in shock and surprise, a cry of pleasure ripping from your throat as tears ran down your cheeks, your mouth agape. But he wasn’t done, as he now kept moving you up and down manually on his cock, feeling his high coming back, as well as yours with how you tightened around him in the cuddling embrace of your slick, warm, gummy walls. Even louder moans and cries sounded from you, all the more desperate and pleasing as you both drew closer. His groans mixed with your cries like a hymn sung by the divine angels above.
Then, with a final upwards thrust of his hips into you, you collapsed over him, both of you cumming onto one another. He felt your warm cum coat his cock, as his own thick seed painted your walls comfortably. Panting against his chest, you couldn’t help but grind weakly against him in overstimulation and tire, moaning tiredly.
Phainon breathed out a sigh of relief and pleasure, before lifting your head up to look up at him.
“We’re not.. we’re not done yet. You’re gonna feel every last bit of my love for you, [Name].”
With that, he pulled out and flipped you over onto your back, so that you were beneath him once more. He grabbed your limp feet and put them over his shoulders as he inserted his dick into you once more, eliciting a loud moan from you in response. He interlocked his hands with yours as he fucked you like this, taking pure delight and pleasure in the way your face contorted into a bonny look of delectable bliss. Your tongue lolled out as your eyes rolled back yet again, sweet, pornographic moans ringing out from deep within your throat as he fucked you hard and fast. You truly could feel the love behind his hard thrusts as he hit you in all the right spots with his greedy, monstrous cock, which would elicit even louder moans from you. You cried out in even more overstimulating pleasure as you came again, shattering into pieces as he placed a soft kiss against your one of your ankles next to his head on his shoulder, making you squeeze around him like a glove.
And then, just as he was about to cum in you, he pulled out and spew his release all over your tits with a laugh, painting your pretty breasts with his load.
“Oh dear.. I’ve made such a mess, haven’t I? I’m so clumsy, let me clean it up for you..” He voiced, his tone mocking and playful as he leaned down and stuck his pink tongue out once more, before licking and sucking one of your nipples clean from his cum, fondling and tweaking the other with his other hand.
“A-ah!~ Haah..~ Phai- fuck!… Phainon please-!~” You sobbed out, unable to take even more pleasure and satisfaction as he sucked on your sensitive nipple, pulling it out with a satisfying ‘pop!’, creating a more reddish colour to its skin, before moving onto your other tit, licking it clean of his cum as you whined his name arousing-ly. It was all enough to make you cum again with an exhausted cry, your back arching upwards off the bed.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, [Name], my perfect girl.. love you so much, doll.. you tired now?..” He asked hotly against the shell of your ear again, peppering sweet kisses against the skin near it. Unable to speak properly, you simply nodded your head and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down next to you on the bed, cuddling him and letting his warmth comfort you, as the smell of sweat and sex lingered in the air around you. But the two of you didn’t care at the moment, only holding each other, with Phainon spooning you and rubbing your sore legs.
After a while, you both came back to your senses from your dazes on cloud nine, looking at each other with love in your eyes.
“I love you, Phainon..”
You cupped his face in your hands, rubbing his cheeks and squishing them, making his lips pucker out. You kissed his silly looking lips, and Phainon could only smile in response.
“I love you too, [Name]. But right now, we have to clean ourselves up, we stink.” He joked lightly, his tone now taking up its more lighthearted and bright side. He giggled as you whined about being too tired and sore to move.
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you, silly” He then picked you up delicately in a princess carry, taking you to your bathroom and setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, before turning the water on and filling it up with warm water. He then, with your permission, added in some of your bath soak- a sweet vanilla scent- and mixed it all in until the water turned all bubbly and pretty. Dipping you in first and following through, with a sigh of satisfaction at the warm water, he pulled you towards him and let the warm water soothe both of your aches and sore spots.
“Thank you..” You mumbled quietly, giggling as he started washing your hair for you with your bottle of shampoo, following suit with his own hair.
“You’re gonna smell like vanilla and strawberries once you get out of here, Phainon” You joked playfully, causing him to pinch your cheek softly
“I wouldn’t mind. At least I’d be able to have your scent all over me where ever I go”
Laughing quietly, you let him pamper you, massage the knots and kinks from your back and thighs as the two of you would wash each other. Each of you putting the other’s hair into a soft bun as the conditioner was added in.
“You look silly, Phainon” You giggled, seeing the tiny ball of sopping white hair sit atop his head due to him having shorter hair than yours.
“Only for you, my love” He responded, kissing the top of your head and tucking it into his chest as the two of you sat in the heat of the warm waters.
.
.
After some time, Phainon got out to clean up the mess you two had made on your bed- to which you protested until he’d simply shut you up with a kiss and tease you about how cold it was outside the water. Not before long, he came back into the bathroom with a towel around his waist, and another in his hand. Picking you up, he patted you dry with the towel, with teasing, lingering touches in some areas, and wrapping the towel around your form, leading you to your now spotless, fresh smelling room.
“Sorry, I don’t have any clothes for you..” You spoke ashamedly as he helped you dress up into some lighter clothes now, to which he only responded by smiling slightly.
“I’ll be fine with wearing my other clothes, unless, you want me to sleep naked?” He now had a smug little grin on his face, but you knew his words held no actual lust behind them as his eyes were full of a familiar kindness and love.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind the view, but I don’t want you waking up with a fever in the morning.”
And with that, you were both cuddling in your now cleaned bed with new sheets and all. He had his sweatpants on from before, as well as his shirt, and you had your comfy pajamas on. He spooned you as he did before, tucking your head under his chin in the crook of his neck as you drifted off slowly to the feeling of his soft, pink lips peppering sweet kisses all over your face, his legs and arms tangled with yours.
“I love you, [Name]. I’m so glad everything worked out in the end..” He breathed out, before succumbing to the land of dreams himself, feeling the nighttime air of the open window gently making its way in and cooling down your room.
You were all his now, as he has always been yours from the start.
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kxsagi · 2 days ago
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I always pronounce your name as Kissagi because you love Isagi so (Kiss Isagi) 😭
Also every time I see you post about Sae, I have to take a breath to not go feral cause he’s my favorite and it’s bad for my heart 😞
And to all the people thirsting about Sae, I love you all, I relate so hard like you have no clue– He takes up like 30% of my brain at all times (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝) I’ve made 3 playlists (about to be 4) for him and drawn him multiple times, guys help me–
~ 💜 anon
“𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞”
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a/n: OMG I PRONOUNCE MY USER AS KISSAGI TOOOO like kiss isagi yessssss mwah mwah 💋💋💋
please don't be shy and share the playlists and drawings 😩 (only if you're comfortable!!)
also, for your kind message, take this sae drabble i had in my drafts ❤️
the rain isn’t heavy, but it’s persistent, enough to soak the hem of your jeans and leave misty streaks on your cheeks. the train station is quieter than usual, the fluorescent lights above humming with an indifferent buzz. you’re standing there like a character in a drama you never asked to star in, arms crossed over your chest, waiting for the person who always makes you wait in ways that aren't just about time. 
sae itoshi shows up five minutes late, umbrella tilted lazily over his shoulder, hair slightly tousled by the wind. he doesn’t apologize. of course he doesn’t. he just glances at you, lips pressed into that unreadable line, like your presence here is both expected and inexplicable. 
“you’re wet,” he says flatly. 
“great observation,” you reply, deadpan. “next you’ll tell me the sky is blue.” 
he doesn’t respond, just lifts the umbrella higher so it covers the two of you. his arm brushes against yours, barely, but you feel it like a spark anyway. 
you hate how calm he looks. you hate how he does this – appears in your life again like he never really left. one text. that’s all it took. “you still take the 7:15?” and you said yes. gosh, of course you said yes. 
“so… what is this?” you ask, voice low. “you miss my sarcasm or something?” 
his eyes move to yours then, slow and deliberate. sae’s always been like this – silent, heavy with meaning, like he communicates in pauses more than words. and you’ve known him long enough to read between them, even if it hurts. 
“i saw that photo,” he says finally. “the one with you and that guy.” 
you blink. “what?” 
“the one where he’s got his arm around you. you were smiling.” he says it without inflection, but there’s a sharpness to it, like he’s testing you. or himself. 
you cross your arms tighter. “so? people smile in photos.” 
sae looks away, jaw tight. “you looked happy.” 
“and that bothers you?” you ask, stepping half an inch closer. “why? because i moved on?” 
he doesn’t answer. just stands there, rain dripping off the edge of the umbrella like it’s marking time. you want to hit him and hug him at the same time. classic sae effect. 
finally, he says quietly, “i didn’t think i’d care. but i did.” 
that makes your heart thump in a way that makes you furious. you hated how he left things. always cool. always distant. always expecting you to read the fine print of his silences. 
“you could’ve said that months ago.” 
“i know.” 
“so why now?” 
he shrugs, but it’s not casual. nothing about him is, when it comes to you. “i thought if i gave you space, you’d forget me. or i’d forget you.” 
“did it work?” 
his eyes flick to yours again, sea-green and solemn. “no.” 
you should be angry. you should tell him it’s too late. that you’ve built a life without him. that you learned how to stop checking your phone every five minutes. but somehow, all you do is sigh. 
“i don’t know what you want from me, sae.” 
he’s quiet for a moment. the kind of quiet that aches. 
then he says, voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t want anything. i just… wanted to see you. make sure you’re still real.” 
your chest tightens. 
the train screeches in the distance, and the moment feels like it’s suspended between then and now, like you could choose to walk away and it would hurt, but it wouldn’t kill you. you’re not sure you could say the same for him. 
you glance up at him, still standing close, still sharing his umbrella with you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 
“you don’t have to say anything,” he adds. “i know i messed it up.” 
your voice is softer now. “you did.” 
he nods. doesn’t try to defend himself. doesn’t move away either. 
but as the train pulls in and the wind gusts again, you feel his fingers graze yours under the umbrella – tentative, like he’s asking for a second chance without the pride or the words. 
and for some reason, you don’t pull away. 
not yet. 
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
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anotherhomelanderblog · 2 days ago
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Ichor
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Summary: Homelander returns to you bleeding after his confrontation with Soldier Boy goes awry. Seeing your lover injured is a new and disconcerting experience for you - and, unfortunately, sometimes panic makes your tongue stupid. Content: Homelander x Reader | established relationship | angst | hurt/comfort | set near end of S3 | mild injury | blood Word count: 2.7k Author's note: Hello again, lovely people! This is just a standalone fic since I wanted to post something and I figured this would be one of my shorter ideas. However, it has still turned into a psychological minefield for me to navigate - and now, my own sanity in tatters, I cut it loose! I just thought Homie could do with some reassurance after Soldier Boy rejects him near the end of S3. This fic is also a birthday present for @themeraldee, who is so sweet and kind and has the absolutely galaxy brained ideas planned for this awful man! I hope you have the best day! ❤️
ao3
You’re not thinking when you say it.
You’re running on adrenaline, trying to be the grown up, hold the fort together. He’s bleeding, for Christ’s sake. You’ve never seen him bleed before. He hasn’t even specified why out loud to you. What on earth are you meant to be thinking?
He’s barely said a word since thundering back into the penthouse, where you were anxiously waiting, with a bleeding Ryan and a team of even more anxious medics in tow. His gloved hands haven’t stopped twitching at his sides for at least ten minutes, something the medics clustered around Ryan on the sofa seem all too conscious of.
You want to ask Homelander what happened, who did this to him, to both of them, but there’s a silence in the air that’s got your nerves on edge. Homelander’s eyes are irritated when they flit recurrently around the room. There’s a light flickering above that you can tell is bothering him.
He’s probably right – of course he is – when he mutters to no one in particular that Ryan doesn’t need checking over. Ryan is like him. But then, that gash on Ryan’s forehead would concern any father, wouldn’t it? And you can’t see who else but Homelander dragged the medics up here while the rest of the tower is under evacuation orders.
And it’s not as though he’s stopped you from dabbing his left ear with a cloth. It’s not as though he is invulnerable to injury either, apparently.
Blood. Homelander’s blood. You can smell it, or maybe that’s just panic. A droplet of it is smeared across the meat of your hand. You don’t know whether this makes you feel sick or honoured.
The Homelander is bleeding. He bleeds.
And all you can do is fucking dab, dab, dab at the evidence.
You’re furious with yourself for taking his invulnerability for granted in the past. He bleeds. How can such a thing surprise you? You're really not thinking straight. You get about half a second’s worth of internal warning that you’re about to say something stupid when a strange little laugh bubbles up from somewhere panicked in your chest. But it’s too late.
“So it is blood and not ichor running through your veins then,” you blurt out.
You can’t take your eyes off the redness leeching from his ear.
At once, Homelander’s restless gaze snaps to you. He looks unimpressed – you have made a bad joke – and an apology is already forming in that same panicked place inside you. You can’t imagine what your own face is currently doing.
But then, lo and behold, his expression falters. His brows pull together, and he tilt his head slightly.
“Why– Why would you say that?” he asks.
He sounds wounded in a way that makes your heart knock with guilt. You freeze and withdraw the cloth from his ear. His ego is worryingly fragile for a man of his abilities, yes, but tonight of all nights you shouldn’t be tripping over the cracks.
“I–”
“Just forget it,” he interrupts you.
He curses under his breath and turns towards the invitingly lit wall of mirrors lurking to the side of you both, his eyes glistening. Oh no. You know the signs of what – and who – may be bargaining for a visit if he’s eying those up. Fortunately, Ryan seems too distracted in conversation with the medics to notice the change in his father’s demeanour.
You pivot after Homelander, grabbing his padded arm. He doesn’t stop you. You feel him trembling. A muscle in his jaw spasms in warning. He’s clearly caught between storming off and drawing Ryan’s attention or staying put for more public humiliation.
“I’m sorry,” you say. You sound more grounded this time.
He doesn’t move. If you were anyone else, it’d be imperative you run a mile right about now. But you both know you’re in far too deep for that.
Instead, you walk directly into the blast zone: stepping in front of him, you take his face in your hands. His eyes are downcast, purposely avoiding yours. He scrunches them shut as you start to stroke his cheeks.
“Hey. I am sorry,” you say in a softer tone. “Sometimes I say stupid stuff when I’m shocked, but I really didn’t mean anything. Will you please tell me what happened tonight? Hm?”
On the one hand, he’s fine: his hearing doesn’t seem to have been affected by what must be a ruptured ear drum. You know he has unimaginable experience in dealing with pain, but you don’t think he’s masking anything here. No, what’s bothering him is more mental than physical.
Isn’t it always?
His eyes open again as a rogue tear finally spills down his left cheek. For the sake of his pride, you ignore it. His gaze becomes distant, honed on one of the mirrors; it’s from behind that protective glass he’s recounting events. He gestures vaguely to his ear.
“This was Maeve. She got my nose as well.” He shrugs nonchalantly. Then he sniffs despite himself. “She’s dead now. Soldier Boy too.”
You’d figured he was gone when that terrifying explosion destroyed half the tower. The fact Homelander could fly you to safety at a moment’s notice, should the whole structure collapse, is one of the only things keeping you brave enough to stay up here.
But Maeve…
You’ll have to decide how you feel about that later.
Homelander closes his eyes once more and finally lets himself lean into your touch, as needy for your affection as the first time you offered it.
“Did you get to talk to him?” you ask, brushing your thumbs along his jaw.
That was supposed to be his play for the meeting: try to get Soldier Boy to switch sides now they knew their familial connection. Who were Butcher and his ragtag band of criminals in comparison to Compound V and blood? It was a wishful scheme borne from the desperate, impulsive part of your lover that increasingly gets the best of him, but you wouldn’t have dared suggest an alternative. He’d gotten that look in his eye.
And then Noir ended up dead.
Right here, however, in the cold light of reality, something in Homelander’s face crumples for a second time. You’re getting close to the raw core of this. The bleeding you’ve witnessed very literally pales in comparison. He’s avoiding your gaze again.
“Yes,” he says, and his voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “But…”
You don’t like the emphasis he puts on that word.
Your mind runs through every possible nightmare scenario until you find your arms are enveloping him of their own accord. You bury your face against his chest and inhale deeply. A soft, surprised noise breezes over your head, then you feel one of his hands reach up to gently stroke through your hair.
You pretend you don’t also feel the vice-like grip of his other hand as it snakes around the base of your neck, keeping you wedged to the Vought-branded padding of his suit. His. It really is far too late for running, but this element of him you can handle.
As long as he’s standing. As long as he’s alive. You don’t try to resist him; you press a kiss to his chest.
What happened at that confrontation? It’s times like these you wish you had powers too, so you could stand alongside him when the crunch comes. You knew something was going to go wrong in there…
“You deserved better,” you whisper.
You’re not expecting this comment to make him flinch like you’ve burnt him, but it does. His hand stills in your hair for an instant before he’s petting you like nothing stopped him. If you listen carefully enough, you’re sure you’ll be able to hear the muscles behind his face filtering through several conflicting expressions.
“What?” he eventually asks, bewildered in that unworldly manner of his that surfaces when the world gets too genuine. You know he can’t help it; most of the time, it only endears him to you more.
“You deserved better than to find out you had a father and then lose him like that,” you clarify.
Truth be told, you’re not particularly saddened by the demise of Soldier Boy. Finding out he was Homelander’s biological father might’ve been enough to turn Homelander’s world on its head – how could it not? – but, to you, he remained the scarily powerful supe trying to depower and murder your lover. Forgive you if you’re not his biggest fan. With his death, at least he can’t pose that threat anymore.
“Yeah, well…” Homelander’s voice sounds choked all of a sudden. Because he feels touched by your words or is freshly grieved about his father, you're not sure. He sighs and clears his throat. “Let’s just say, he didn’t see it that way.”
Now you frown.
“What did he say to you?” You let go of him and try to pull back to properly gauge what he’s getting at, but that’s the wrong response. He doesn’t let you. You hope Ryan is still distracted enough not to notice any of this. “Homelander, I swear to God, if he’s been filling your head with bullshit–”
“I’m a fucking disappointment, apparently. Imagine that.”
He snarls the words into your ear, and his fist tightens in your hair as he does. The whiplash of his vitriol would make you flinch in return, if you didn’t already feel his hold on you finally loosening – though you’re still not free.
Clinically controlled, he tilts your head back like you’re a precious china doll for him to position, and one of his thumbs strokes your jaw as yours did his earlier. But there’s none of that anger in his voice marring his face. Instead, he stares into your eyes – scrutinising you, yes, but – with a wariness that should be unbalancing.
“Well? Am I a disappointment to you too?” he asks.
He’s trying to project bitterness. You sense the undercurrent of him pleading for your assurance mixed in too, never able to just ask outright without lashing you too, so you know better than to think this means you have the upper hand here. After all, this isn’t a fair question for the strongest man in the world to ask a person whose life he could crush between the fingers of one hand. But that isn’t his fault, you tell yourself, and you meet his desperation with an intensity you can only have learnt from him.
“No, you're not,” you say firmly. “And I know you much better than Soldier Boy did.”
It takes a lot for you to hold off sneering his father’s name. Still, if anything, this measured response seems to upset him further – you’re not giving him opportunity to escalate. How unfair.
With a curt sigh, he slides the arm not gripping your jaw downwards to take the bloodstained cloth from you. It’s been clenched in your grip, but you relinquish it without fuss to watch in confusion as Homelander draws it up to his face to wipe something from his right cheek.
Foundation? Concealer?
Your brow creases, but he doesn’t speak. His eyes bore into yours as he drags the cloth over his skin. His movements are rigid, like you’re forcing him to do this. Is this a test of some sort? Gradually, the makeup smears with the blood already laced into the cloth’s damp fabric, revealing the not-quite invulnerable skin underneath is… inflamed.
You blink.
Homelander has a bruise below his right eye socket spreading the length of his cheekbone – and, from the state of the discolouration, you’d wager it’s not a fresh one. Your mind starts to fly once again with questions, when the culprit hits you.
Herogasm. That fucking ambush.
“Fuck,” you whisper, staring transfixed at the unwanted souvenir.
You don't want to imagine how hard someone would’ve had to hit him to leave a bruise like this. You reach up to caress the injured cheek, but he turns his head away. Your heart clenches.
“Oh, sweetheart–”
“Don’t be embarrassed? Right.” He scoffs, forcing the fake nonchalance back, then releases his hold on you entirely. His eyes close, and when he reopens them, they’re glassy and irritable like earlier. “I mean, you signed up to date a god, didn’t you? Don’t you wish my veins were filled with ichor? You can be honest.”
You bristle. “Of course not. I told you. I didn’t mean–”
“Because I fucking do.”
There’s an accusation in his gaze – and, if you’re not mistaken, a millisecond’s flash of red. Fortunately for him, you spy the pitiful and humiliated creature lurking underneath it, and it gives you pause.
“Blood is more than good enough for me. Especially the blood that runs through your veins,” you tell him, stepping closer as if to prove it. You jab his chest. “You’re not the disappointment in this situation, understand? Soldier Boy is. Stop expecting me to reject you too.”
He blinks several times in quick succession, but, this time, when you tentatively reach out, he lets you trace over his cheek with the pads of your fingers. He hums, which you take to be a nonverbal sign of his approval. He’s actually barely resisting the urge to nuzzle against your touch.
Relief floods your system.
Chuckling, you lean in and kiss the part of the bruise that appears the least tender for good measure. Despite the fact you don't have the strength to make it any worse, that isn’t the point.
“You have a family who loves you, Homelander. We’re not going anywhere,” you whisper. “I chose you. I’ll choose you every day. You’d better believe me.”
A huff leaves his lips as you start peppering little kisses across his face. His hands slip comfortably around your waist, and he offers you a soft look. You offer him a smile in return. His lips meet yours like nothing is wrong in the world.
And, for one blissful second, nothing is.
“Uh, dad?” Ryan calls over.
You jerk back in surprise, your face warming. It doesn’t take an emotional genius to hear the awkwardness in Ryan’s voice. There’s a brief glimmer of amusement in Homelander’s eyes at your reaction before he’s plastering on his most reassuring, fatherly smile.
“Yeah, buddy? Everything alright?” he calls back.
With a needlessly dramatic swoosh of his cape, he strides over to his son, dismissing the medics with a warning flick of his wrist. None of them need telling twice.
Crisis averted. You hope.
The source of your anxiety finally settled, you take to inspecting your hands in an effort not to eavesdrop on father and son. The small streak of Homelander’s blood that had so bothered you earlier catches your attention. You find yourself more at peace with it now. What was previously crimson liquid is turning a dry brown in the fine lines of your skin, nestled into you as snugly as you know he’d like to be in his ideal world.
You observe this tangible proof of his humanity that connects you both on a level you’ve not had access to before. The sight of it fills you with a strange compulsion, one you’d normally consider morbid. You raise your hand to your lips, casting a quick glance across the room to make sure you’re not being watched, and lick at the blood.
…What exactly were you expecting?
The taste is faintly metallic, same as your own. Ordinary. Authentically human. Nothing artificial, to your palate. Nothing divine either.
You glance back over at Homelander. He’s reverted to form – hands clasped behind his back; superhero assurances that he won’t ever let anyone hurt Ryan like this again, he will not let them; that William Butcher doesn’t deserve Ryan, that Ryan deserves better, is better, innately better, than everyone who caused him this pain; that Homelander isn’t going anywhere; that they’ve got this, they’ll be fine.
Your lover may now know he isn’t as synthetic as he was led to believe, and he may know you love him, but you’re not so sure he’ll ever accept that he isn’t of the divine.
Homelander bleeds blood and not ichor, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.
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reachartwork · 1 day ago
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It's a service plagiarizes art based on a written prompt.
firstly, *that secondly, not how plagiarism works or how ai works thirdly, not a service either, i run my ai locally on my computer. perhaps the term you meant was "computer program"?
gen AI doesn't create art and writing a prompt doesn't make you an artist
True! I make art and receiving pictures out of my homemade AI is what makes me an artist. As well as being an author and musician. the writing prompts part is just part of it.
while not giving any credit or compensation to the people you're exploiting.
Here is the entire dataset I use with sources. Wasn't that easy?
gen AI is just automated plagiarism
self-evidently wrong
Writing a prompt doesn't do anything to actually compensate for disability or provide access to art
so where are all these images that i couldn't draw with my non-functional hands coming from? my asshole?
so you'll give gen AI companies a monthly subscription fee instead of commissioning artists.
do you know what "runs locally" and "FOSS" is?
Supporting disabled people in this fight would mean speaking to the needs of disabled artists that are losing work because of gen AI
only the disabled people that agree with you, though! you can just ignore all those ones who have said that they find ai useful. they're not really disabled <3
not throwing a temper tantrum because people point out that it's not an art tool.
has less than nothing to do with what the post you are trying to dunk on is talking about!
Enforce the existing regulations. Make them pay for all of the art they train on and punish them for violating plagiarism laws.
okay so how do you plan on enforcing those internationally? or did you forget that the world is more than just america?
Either they'll produce a product that's useful and doesn't involve exploitation and plagiarism, or they'll go out of business.
or the big companies you hope will save you will just partner with the ai companies and leave all the small indie fanartists high and dry because why the fuck would they do anything for you?
re: "outlawing AI"
the thing i think a lot of people have trouble understanding is that "ai" as we know it isn't a circuitboard or a computer part or an invention - it's a discovery, like calculus or chemistry. the genie *can't* be re-corked because it'd be like trying to "cork" the concept of, say, trigonometry. you can't "un-invent" it.
even if you managed to somehow completely outlaw the performance of the kinds of linear algebra required for ML, and outlawed the data collection necessary, and sure, managed to get style copyrighted, you can't un-discover the underlying mathematical facts. people will just do it in mexico instead. it'd be like trying to outlaw guns by trying to get people to forget that you can ignite a mixture of powders in a small metal barrel to propel things very fast. or trying to outlaw fire by threatening to take away everyone's sticks.
the battleground is already here. technofascists and bad actors without your ethical constraints are drawing the lines and flooding the zone with propaganda & slop, and you’re wasting time insisting to your enemies that it’s unfair you’re being asked to fight with guns when you’d rather use sticks.
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wcnderlnds · 12 hours ago
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waste the night ★ choi su-bong (thanos)
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・❥・ summary: all it takes is one night, one simple choice and your life changes forever meeting a handsome stranger along the way. ・❥・word count: 2.4k ・❥・warnings: 18+, mdni. unprotected sex, dirty talk, rough sex, choking. swearing, drug mentions, usual squid game stuff. ・❥・authors note: this might be rubbish idk but i wanted to write something anyway so i'm posting and vanishing into the night <3
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The small rectangle card lay on the bar in front of you, the symbols on it glaring at you, taunting you. When the guy in the suit had approached you, your first instinct was to walk away — stranger danger and all of that. But, when he offered you the card, mentioning there’d be a big cash prize if you took part and won, you had immediately snatched it from his hands. What really could be the harm in it? Play a few games and win some money. It didn’t sound too hard and you really needed the money. Life hadn’t been the kindest to you lately and it was safe to say you were at rock bottom. 
For the last few weeks, you’d been staying on your friend’s couch. After catching your partner cheating on you, you had immediately packed your bags and left. On top of that, you had recently been laid off from your job so you had no income. You were homeless and jobless – legitimately at rock bottom. Your days were spent feeling sorry for yourself, trying to pick up the pieces of your broken life.
But this card? This was an opportunity to turn things around.
“Can I buy you a drink, Senorita?” The deep voice drew you from your thoughts, your head turning to see a purple haired guy leaning on the bar beside you. He wore a bright green shirt, tattoos covered his hands and arms, his purple hair a flat mess on his head but he still remained the best looking guy in the place.
“Sure, why not?” You shrugged your shoulders.
“What’s your poison?”
“Espresso Martini.”
The man wasted no time in calling the bartender over and ordering your drink. You couldn’t deny how good it felt that someone had taken such an interest in you to even want to buy you one. It had been so long since it had happened. Maybe he was just being kind, taking pity on you but the way his eyes raked over your body told you a different story. He was interested. He didn't even need to say it, his eyes did it for him. Those dark brown eyes that anyone could easily get lost in. 
“Names Thanos, by the way,” he grinned, handing your drink over to you. It didn’t go amiss the way his fingers grazed yours, sending sparks through your body.
“Thanos?” You snickered. “Really?”
“Yeah. You don’t know me?”
“Should I?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you remember who I am by the end of the night.”
Usually, a comment like that would be an immediate turn off but there was something about this man that intrigued you. There was no doubt he was trouble but you were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. When was the last time you’d ever felt like that? It had to have been years so a little indulgence wouldn’t hurt. The attention was nice, needed even. Being cheated on had made you feel insecure, like you weren’t enough but here was this handsome guy showering you with the attention that you sorely craved. It didn’t have to mean anything and it wouldn’t. He didn’t seem like the relationship type of guy anyway.
As the night wore on, you got to know him more. He was a rapper – he’d come second on some underground rapping show which you had to admit was pretty impressive. He’d told you about his home life, how his dad was a piece of shit, how much he loved his mom but he was constantly letting her down. You felt for him, you really did. As chaotic as he seemed, deep down he was an okay guy. He seemed to care, he just didn’t like to show it. When you’d told him about your partner, he’d offered to go and beat them up. That had made you laugh. This stranger that you barely knew wanted to fight for your honour, it was enough to make you almost forget how shit you felt.
It was three drinks in when you asked the question that you never thought you’d be asking someone ever again. As you placed your glass back down on the bar, you turned to Thanos, biting your lower lip as seductively as you could, hoping that he’d get the message. “Do you want to get out of here?”
His eyes lit up instantly. “Fuck yeah, I do. My place is just around the corner.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Thanos grabbed your hand, leading you out of the club, the music growing distant as you entered the streets of Seoul. This wasn’t usually your thing. Never had you really had a one night stand but for one night you just wanted to feel wanted. You wanted to feel like you mattered just for a few hours.
The second you entered his front door, he wasted no time in pushing you up against the wall, his lips on yours in a frenzied kiss. There was nothing gentle about it, his hands grabbing at any part of your body he could get to. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and off his head. He followed suit, pulling yours off your body. Then, he was diving back in, his tongue tangling with yours.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he mumbled against yours lips. His hand had now dove inside the shorts you were wearing, fingers sliding along the fabric your panties. It was almost embarrassing how wet you already were but, honestly, you didn’t care. It had been too long.
“Shutup,” you rolled your eyes, your fingers tugging at his hair. “Stop wasting time and fuck me already.”
“Sassy, huh? I’d watch that mouth of yours, Senorita.”
“Or what?”
He smirked at you, pushing your panties to the side and sliding a finger inside you without warning. You groaned at the relief, throwing your head back against the wall as he began to pump his finger in and out of you at speed. He added a second one, his free hand holding your hips which were trying to buck wildly into his hand. “Not so sassy now.”
“Fuck,” you whined. “Oh god, I’m gonna cum.”
“Already? I know I’m good but damn, babe.”
“Oh my God, shutup.”
He curled his fingers, biting down on your neck to leave a mark. He didn’t let up, his fingers pumping into you with expertise. God, he really did know what he was doing. When you’d first laid eyes on him at the bar, you had noticed how nice his hands were and now those long, slender fingers were bringing you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. You felt that familiar feeling pooling, your body tensing signalling that your orgasm was fast approaching just like you’d said. As you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers from you with a shit eating grin.
“See, that’s what happens when you talk back to me,” he clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. He made a show of bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking your juices from his fingers. “Mhm, you taste so good.”
“Thanos.”
“Yeah, Senorita?”
“Come on.”
“I don’t know. You’ve been a sassy little shit. Maybe you should beg for it.” He grabbed your thighs, signalling for you to jump which you did immediately. He carried you to his bedroom. It wasn’t much, pretty bland, actually. A double bed, clothes laid around the place and a few posters here and there. For someone who said he was a rapper, you’d assumed he’d have a big place but this was… small. Maybe he wasn’t all he’d made himself out to be. Not that you cared; after tonight, you’d never see him again.
He threw you down on the bed, laying beside you and pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his lap. “Go on, Senorita, beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you like you want me to and maybe I’ll be kind and give you what you’re craving.”
The urge to roll your eyes was strong but you didn’t, knowing you had to play along to get what you wanted. So, you rolled your hips against his, the friction of his jeans against your panties good but not enough. You could feel him beneath you, hard and ready. It must be killing him to hold back like this. “Thanos, baby, please. Fuck me. I need it so bad. I need you inside me, please.
“That’s a good girl. Not so hard now, was it?” He lifted you off him for a second to pull down his jeans and boxers. His cock sprang up, hard and leaking at the tip. “Go on then. Sit on my dick since you’re so desperate.”
Pushing your panties to the side, you hovered over his cock, gripping him at the base to hold him steady. You positioned him at your entrance, beginning to sink down. The second you felt the tip of his cock breach your entrance, you moaned. He was big, bigger than your ex, that was for damn sure. Once he was fully inside you, he grabbed at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin hard. He hissed, fighting the urge to thrust up into you but before he could, you lifted your hips and slammed back down.
There was nothing gentle about it as you began to bounce on his cock, hard and fast. He slipped out a few times, Thanos having to push himself back inside you. “Fucking hell, princess. You’re so desperate.”
“You’re so deep,” you whined, eyes closing as you focused on the pleasure consuming your entire body. “You feel so good.”
He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to have more so he began to thrust up into you, the sound of your skin smacking together sounding out through the small room. “Yeah, take it, you desperate little thing.”
Holy shit, was this what you’d been missing out on all these years being stuck with your partner? Compared to this, your sex life had been completely boring. The words spilling from Thanos’ mouth were the biggest turn on, the rough way he was grabbing you, giving you exactly what you needed – it was like nothing you’d ever had before.
His hand slid up to your neck, applying a little pressure. Your hips began to falter but that didn’t matter, Thanos was taking the lead now, pounding up into you like a man possessed. The grunts and moans coming from him were making you dizzy… or maybe that was the way he was hammering into you like nobody ever had before. You were definitely going to be sore in the morning but it was so worth it. 
“I’m so fuckin’ close, Senorita. Where do you want it?” He grunted.
“Inside me. Please.” You could barely form words at this point, too consumed by the intense feeling of your orgasm nearing. You could feel yourself tightening around his pistoning cock, your hands scrambling for purchase for something to hold on to.
“Dirty girl,” he panted, his fingers around your throat tightening a little. It was one more thrust up into you that triggered both your orgasms. You cried out his name, his hand on your hip holding you still as he emptied himself deep inside you.
As the waves of your release subsided, you collapsed on top of him, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath back. Silence filled the room, only your heavy breaths filling the space. When your brain finally came back to you, you climbed off him, getting to your feet. You scrambled around to find your shirt, Thanos laying on the bed, vape in his hand as he watched you. “Leaving already?”
“Yep,” you said as you pulled on your shirt. “Got a call to make but this was great. See you around, Thanos.”
Before he could even say anything, you were out of the door, your phone in your hand. As you stepped out onto the street, you pulled the card from the pocket of your skirt (a genius invention, if you had to say so) and dialled the number.
That was it. Your fate was sealed.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Gunshots sounded out, ringing through your ears. You had to fight the urge to run for safety but you knew the second you moved, you’d meet your end. So, you stayed still. You were so close to the finish line, just one more sprint and you’d be there. The doll began to sing again and you ran as fast as you could. The second your foot stepped over the white line, you felt like you could breath again. Your heart was pounding in your chest, harder than it ever had. Fear gripped you like never before. What the hell was this place? Why had you made that stupid call? You weren’t this desperate for money.
As you hunched over, bile rising in your stomach, you took a deep breath in. Guns were still firing but you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t turn around and see all the death and destruction, it would make you spiral and that wasn’t something you could afford right now.
“Senorita!” A familiar voice called out. You stood up, looking to see where it came from but you were engulfed in a hug before you could even register what was happening. You recognised the cologne, the glimpse of purple hair giving away exactly who it was.
“Thanos?!” You asked, shocked.
He pulled back only briefly to look at you but as he did, you noticed the glazed over look in his eyes, the stupid grin on his face. Only a psychopath would be smiling in a situation like this or someone that was on something. Of course he was. “Fancy seeing you here. This must be fate.”
“Or punishment.”
He shushed you, grabbing your face in his hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. And, maybe later we can have a little repeat of last night.”
“How can you even think of that when people are dying?”
“It’s all I can think about.”
“You’re annoying.”
“And you’re stuck with me so stick by my side and I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” he said fiercely.
As under the influence as he was, there was something about the intense way he was looking at you and the way he’d said those words that made you believe him. If you had to be in this nightmare, at least you had someone on your side and you had a feeling Thanos would be a good ally to have in a place like this.
taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @loveesiren @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @aizshallnotbefound @fleabagspurplewife @gemzyy @bettelaboure @gdinthehouseee @breakmeoff @babyrvis @flymetothexmoon @forevervibezzzz1 @ttturnitup @szonyix6277 @riddlerloveb0t @youlikeex @str8t2video @septywitch @melanatedhorrorqueen @l5byrinth @tabibabib
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thecorefrisk · 2 days ago
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Um, here’s my suggestion to the DP fans who want to only DP content… why not make your own tag??
I’ll probably sound passive aggressive when saying this but I understand. It’s super frustrating trying to find content for one fandom and then seeing completely different content.
Why not make a ‘dp only’ tag? That way anyone could find any sort of Danny Phantom only content without having to scroll through countless of other works to get to it.
I get it, it’s much more easy to put up a wall than build a bridge but creating an entirely new tag for yourselves can also be a rather constructive choice!
(My only question is… why is this an issue now rather than earlier? Is this something a lot of DP fans have been already thinking or it more so a recent thing??)
Edit: I posted something similar in the comments and I have a reblog up for anyone to see but I’ll say it here as well! This post was likely founded in my own hurt!! I personally think it felt entitled for me to say, someone else said it sounded condescending. Those two things don’t exactly contradict each other!!
(But the condescension part might’ve been just my lack of understanding of how my words come across to others due to the autism thing, but y’know, no excuse unless my entire family also happened to die before I wrote this. Which did NOT happen if you’re wondering, I’m just scared they will and that’s like, super different.)
I have had a history of being pushed out of things and spaces in which I should’ve been accepted into (ex: autism spaces, other fandoms, friendships). I was trying to ‘nice’ and also give my own opinion at the same time. (A skewed opinion.) I knew the whole discourse made me feel… bad but I didn’t know where it came from and I just posted this in an impulsive decision.
Not necessarily to go ‘ha! Losers!’ But to put up sort of shield to defend myself. So, I am sorry. For the condescension and for the passive aggressiveness. I already knew that was a problem in my speech but I didn’t realize it was THAT bad.
Uhh, let me review the things I did wrong. (I like lists.)
First off, I disregarded a group of people’s feelings for my own. Second, I decided to ‘bring up a solution’ that was more so a half assed compromise which was likely already someone else’s suggestion as well. Third, I also just so ‘happened to forget’ that the DP tag… WAS your tag. That you should be able to go through it without someone else shoving content from a different fandom in your face in all directions.
I mean, if I want my feelings to be heard, I should be hearing other people’s feelings too. It’s not fair for me to bring up my own opinions, expect them to be taken as seriously as anybody else’s, and then not give that treatment. And also I should probably learn impulse control?? I think I have a grip on it unless I feel hurt. Otherwise I’m fine.
It was probably, to me, that the post I first saw about it made it feel like people were going ‘…get out?’ (The post I saw was one asking for people to exclusively use the DP x DC tag for those kinds of posts. Which, in itself, is actually not a bad idea and would allow for further freedom as people are allowed to be separate but connected to the DP fandom and perhaps even the DC fandom.)
Basically, I was projecting my own past trauma onto this random person who just felt frustrated they had to scroll past what felt like a million posts just to get to the fandom they wanted to see. And the kind of posts they saw, might’ve not been the kind that they wanted to see at all which is even more frustrating. They likely wrote in a moment of frustration and it kind of came off as such in their writing. But that doesn’t mean that my reaction is their fault in the slightest.
It means I had a reaction to something I felt was hurtful. I’ve written this line before but when I sat down and actually thought about it all it felt all the truer. ‘They aren’t trying to give you a bad time, they are having one’. I made it about me— which was not cool of me.
So, again, I am sorry. I hope this comes across as me actually taking accountability for my actions and not another passive aggressive fat amount of text like I fear it will be.
Thank you, though! To the people who were so, so nice in the comments. You weren’t, like, mean to me about this even though I was sounding pretty bratty. Some were a little frustrated but it was in a way that I could understand and your hearts were all in the right place. Because even though this seems very small— a fandom having a space on Tumblr to be able to see their own content— it gives people a place where they can meet people who like the same things and even make friends out of it. And you also expressed your thoughts in a way that I could get! Which was super sweet, thank you so much. :>
Mwah, mwah, love you!! 🫶🏼
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itwillbethescarletwitch · 10 hours ago
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Concert Glow
bob floyd x fem!reader
warnings: Concerts and a crowd (idk if that’s a warning but i’m putting it, other than that just enjoy this concert date fic with bobby)
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You kicked your shoes off before you even got in the truck.
Bob laughed when he saw you toss them in the backseat and curl your legs under yourself, barefoot and relaxed like the day had already been perfect—even though the best part hadn’t even started.
“Is this a ‘comfy girl concert vibe’ thing,” he teased, “or are you just planning on dancing until your toes bleed?”
“Both,” you said, reaching across the console for his hand. “You know me.”
He turned his palm up so your fingers could slot into his. It was instinct by now—like second nature, like gravity. His calloused thumb brushed gently over yours as he drove.
The wind tugged your hair through the open window. The sun was golden. The sky was soft.
“I’m excited,” you said, smiling to yourself.
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this. A normal night. You know? Something that feels… young.”
Bob looked over at you, squinting behind his sunglasses. “You are young.”
You smirked. “My back disagrees.”
He snorted. “You don’t hear me complaining about my back when you steal all the covers.”
You gasped, mock-offended. “I knew it was you rolling me into the edge of the bed.”
“Occupational hazard of dating a Navy man, darlin’.”
“You’re barely Navy when you’re asleep.”
“I’m always Navy,” he said, grinning. “Even in my dreams.”
“Liar.”
He didn’t answer. Just reached over and brought your hand to his lips. Kissed the back of it once, then let it go.
The venue was just starting to fill when you arrived.
Bob parked in the grass, cut the engine, and reached into the backseat to grab the rolled-up blanket and the little tote bag full of snacks and sunscreen and backup hair ties you insisted on bringing. He held it all in one hand and offered the other to you.
You took it.
Of course you did.
The lawn was sprawling—big enough for the whole city, it felt like. String lights stretched between light poles and fence posts. Folding chairs and picnic blankets dotted the grass. The stage was small, but the speakers were already humming.
You walked through the crowd slowly, looking for a good spot.
That’s when you said it.
“I forget how much space the world still has,” you murmured, half to yourself.
Bob turned to you, his expression unreadable.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” You smiled. “Just… I don’t have a lot of people left. You know? My parents are gone. My grandma passed last year. I haven’t talked to my cousins in ages. It’s just—me.”
Bob blinked, the weight of your words sinking in.
You kept going, quietly: “It feels good being here with you. Like I’m still part of something.”
Bob didn’t speak for a second. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of your head.
“Then I’ll be enough,” he whispered.
You found the perfect spot—midway back, just outside the speaker towers but still close enough to see the stage. He laid out the blanket and dropped the bag beside it, then reached over to tuck your hair behind your ear.
“Wanna go get drinks?”
“Only if I get to choose the music when we get back.”
“You already chose the concert.”
“And you already agreed to it.”
He laughed, grabbed his wallet, and pulled you up by the hand.
The food trucks were lined up along the fence—nachos, burgers, lemonade, funnel cake, fresh popcorn, cheap beer. You pointed at the lemonade stand.
“You first,” Bob said, grinning. “I’ll get mine after.”
You blinked. “Did you just say—”
“What?”
“‘You first.’”
“…Yeah?”
You smiled. “We say that a lot.”
He tilted his head. “Because we mean it.”
Back at the blanket, you sprawled out under the pink-purple sky and split a giant paper tray of curly fries. He plucked one from your hand, stole a kiss with it, then fed it back to you like you were royalty.
“I should bring you to more things like this,” he said.
You blinked at him, surprised. “You hate crowds.”
He shrugged. “I like you more.”
The first band came on, and the crowd stirred. Some people stood, others just leaned back into the grass. Bob pulled you into his side and laid a hand across your ribs, warm and grounding.
“I’m gonna marry you,” he said under his breath, so quietly you almost missed it.
You turned toward him. “What?”
But he just smiled. “I said, you look really pretty in this light.”
You didn’t question it. Just leaned your head back on his shoulder.
It wasn’t until the second band started that he asked:
“You wanna dance?”
Bob’s voice was soft—softer than the music playing, softer than the hush between heartbeats.
You turned to look at him, surprised. “I thought you didn’t slow dance in public.”
He gave a half-smile, barely there. “There’s a lot I’d do for you that I wouldn’t for anyone else.”
You just stared at him for a second, heart cracking open in a way that felt both good and terrifying.
Then you whispered, “Okay.”
He stood first, brushing his palms on the back of his jeans, then offered his hand. You slid yours into his without hesitation, letting him pull you up off the blanket and out into the open grass.
You walked hand in hand toward the back edge of the venue—string lights arcing over the fence line, music humming like a lullaby through the air. A few other couples danced, but you barely noticed.
This was your world now. Just you and him. Just this moment.
Bob turned toward you, slipped one hand gently to your waist, the other holding your hand with quiet reverence. You rested your free hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath your palm.
You began to sway.
No fancy steps. No rhythm to follow. Just closeness.
Just him.
“I haven’t danced like this in a long time,” you murmured, eyes never leaving his.
Bob smiled softly. “I haven’t danced like this ever.”
“Not even at prom?”
“I didn’t go.”
You blinked. “Why not?”
He looked down, sheepish. “Didn’t have anyone I wanted to take. Not until now.”
You laughed, a little breathless. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
His hand curled a little tighter at your waist. “Don’t. I’d do anything to make you smile instead.”
You tilted your head, resting your temple against his. “You do. Every day.”
The music floated around you, something tender and slow with strings, maybe piano. Neither of you paid much attention to the lyrics. You didn’t need to.
He exhaled against your cheek. “I’ve been thinking about this lately.”
“Dancing?”
He gave a tiny laugh. “No. Us. You. How different life’s been since I met you.”
You shifted slightly so you could look up at him again. “Different good?”
Bob nodded once. “Yeah. I used to think I was just gonna coast through life. Fly, sleep, repeat. Nothing more than that. But then you showed up. And I started hoping.”
Your heart ached at that.
“Hoping for what?”
He shrugged, quiet. “Something that lasts. A home. A future. Someone to come back to.”
You squeezed his hand. “You have that. You have me.”
He didn’t speak for a long time.
Then he said:
“I wanna marry you someday.”
Your breath caught.
You stared at him. He wasn’t smiling—not nervously, not joking. He just said it like it was the truth. Like he already knew.
Your voice cracked when you answered. “Then let’s live long enough to get there.”
He pressed his forehead to yours.
“We will.”
You kept dancing.
The world faded out.
Around you, the concert carried on—lights pulsing, voices rising—but you were wrapped in something softer. Slower. More sacred.
His arms around you. Your cheek against his chest.
You closed your eyes and just let yourself feel it.
The steady thump of his heart. The warmth of his skin. The strength in his arms as he held you close like he’d never let go.
You whispered: “I don’t wanna lose this. Not ever.”
“You won’t,” he said immediately.
“I mean it. If anything ever happened—if I lost you—I don’t think I’d survive it. I don’t think I’d even want to.”
His hand slid to the small of your back.
“Don’t talk like that,” he murmured.
“I just… I need you to know. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had.”
His voice cracked a little when he answered: “You’re all I ever wanted.”
You stayed there, swaying, until the music changed.
He kissed your temple.
“You’re my last dance,” he whispered. “And my first.”
You looked up, tears in your eyes, and kissed him.
Slow. Deep. One of those kisses where your chest gets tight because you’re loving so hard you don’t know what to do with it all.
The kind of kiss that says goodbye without realizing it.
When you pulled away, you smiled up at him.
“I want to remember this forever.”
“You will,” he said, brushing his nose against yours.
You grinned. “How can you be so sure?”
His arms tightened just a little.
“Because I will.”
And then—
a piercing noise tore through the night, sharper than anything you’d ever heard.
The music stopped.
Then screaming.
Bob grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet before you could even think.
“Run. Stay close.”
You stumbled as the crowd surged around you, a tide of panic and terror.
Bullets cracked behind you—pop, pop, pop—hitting the pavement, the stage, anything they could find.
You felt a searing pain just above your hip.
You gasped.
Bob spun around, eyes wide.
“Shit,” he cursed, gripping your waist to steady you.
“Bobby—”
He barely registered his own shoulder burning.
“I don’t care,” he hissed, pulling you forward. “We gotta get somewhere safe. Come on!”
You leaned heavily on him, the pain spreading, but he was all strength beneath you.
You both ducked behind a row of stacked crates near the food trucks.
Bob pressed his palm against your side, trying to staunch the bleeding.
“Hold on. I’m right here.”
Your breaths came in ragged gasps.
Then footsteps—soft but fast.
A boy no older than sixteen, wide-eyed, shaking, carrying a rifle too big for him.
Bob stood slowly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
“It’s okay. We don’t want trouble.”
The boy’s voice cracked. “I… I don’t want to do this.”
Bob’s eyes softened. “Who made you come here?”
“They said if I don’t—my brother…”
Bob nodded, understanding.
“Is there a way out?”
The boy pointed, voice barely above a whisper: “Back left of the stage. Quick. That’s where it’s safe.”
Bob helped you up gently.
“We’re going to get through this. Stay with me.”
You looked up into his face, pain and love tangled in his eyes.
“I’ve got you,” he said, voice steady despite the chaos.
“What do we have here?” The voice was slow, mocking—like a predator savoring the fear in the air.
Bob’s body went rigid, his arms widening instinctively to shield you.
The man stepped fully into the dim glow of the string lights, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.
Bob swallowed hard, voice trembling but steady. “Please… take me. Spare her.”
You shook your head violently, panic strangling your throat. “No! Bobby, don’t do this. Please.”
Bob’s eyes burned into the man’s, silent desperation begging for mercy.
The shooter laughed—a harsh, dry sound that filled the small space between you.
“Love makes you weak,” he sneered, leveling his assault rifle at you.
Your heart thundered.
Bob dropped to his knees, pulling you into his chest, arms wrapping around you like a shield.
“Don’t. Just take me,” Bob pleaded again, voice breaking.
The shooter circled you slowly, eyes glinting with cruelty.
“Well, well,” he mused, voice dripping with mockery. “What a pretty little prize. So fragile. So tender.” He reached out and brushed a stray hair from your face. “What should I do with you, huh?”
Bob’s hands clenched into fists, muscles trembling.
“You see,” the shooter said, “I could make her scream. Beg. Cry. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” He chuckled darkly. “Or… maybe I kill her. Right here. Right now. That’d be a shame.”
You shook violently, tears burning your eyes.
Bob’s voice cracked as he whispered, “Please… please don’t. I swear I’ll do whatever you want.”
The shooter leaned in closer, voice low and cruel. “You’d watch her die, wouldn’t you? And not even be able to move. Pathetic.”
Bob’s breath hitched, but he didn’t release you.
“Look at me,” the shooter taunted. “I own this moment. This power. And you? You’re nothing.”
Time stretched.
You felt every heartbeat—every desperate breath.
Bob whispered over and over, “I love you. I love you.”
Then—
The gunfire shattered the silence.
Bullets tore through Bob’s shoulder and chest.
He grunted but held you tighter.
And then the bullets went through him—into you.
You screamed.
His arms never loosened.
“I’ve got you,” he gasped.
You clung to him, tears mixing with blood.
“I love you,” you sobbed.
“You first,” he whispered.
And then—
The world went black.
———
The news hit the squadron like a thunderclap.
Phoenix dropped her coffee, the sound shattering the usual hum of the Hard Deck.
“Bob’s…” she whispered, voice breaking.
Maverick’s eyes darkened as he heard the details. Not just Bob. You, too. Both gone.
She hadn’t known you. Not well. But the way Bob talked—how his eyes softened when he said your name—made it clear you were everything to him.
Maverick called every favor he had.
There was no family for you—no one left to claim you, no one to fight for a proper goodbye.
But Maverick wasn’t about to let you be forgotten.
He pulled strings, made calls. Navy protocol bent by a grizzled old pilot who knew love wasn’t always in the ranks.
The day of the funeral was cold and clear.
Rows of uniforms, flags folded sharp and precise.
Side by side, you were laid to rest.
The Navy gave you both every honor they could muster.
Maverick stood before the assembled squadron, voice steady but heavy.
“I taught Bob how to fly,” he said. “But she taught him how to live.”
He paused, swallowing hard.
“They weren’t married. They didn’t wear dog tags. But make no mistake—this was a love worth honoring.”
He looked out at the faces—young pilots, friends, family.
“She had no one left. But she had Bob. And in the end, that was more than most people ever get.”
Phoenix wiped tears away.
Fanboy held his dog tags tight.
And somewhere deep inside, you both felt the weight of a love that transcended everything—even death.
Somewhere beyond the pain, beyond the grief, beyond the endless night—
Bob Floyd was still holding you.
And he always would.
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Text
Erik Campbell X Reader
Here's a chapter from my Erik one-shots Wattpad story
Let me know if anyone wants to request a chapter I can post on both Tumblr and Wattpad
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Female reader X Erik
You sat on your spinning stool at your desk in your shop drawing designs for customers. You take off one of your black gloves to change the music on your phone. You grab a remote to change the LED lights that surround the roof of your shop from blue to red. You hear the door ring as it swings open.
"Y/N?"
You stay staring at your desk drawing your tattoo designs not even needing to look up to know who it is.
"Erik?"
You yell not letting your gaze fault from your drawing.
"You didn't forget about my appointment did you?"
He asks.
"Of course not. Come sit down."
You hear him sit down in the adjustable chair as it squeaks under him.
Finally, for the first time, you look up from your drawing at the messy-haired boy who is sitting in front of you. You wheel your chair over to the chair he sat in sitting inches away from him.
"So what were you looking to get done today?"
Erik sits up seemingly excited at his idea as he grips his phone in his hands.
"Well y'know, I was thinking of getting something new done."
You're eyebrow raises
"Mhm?"
"And since you've done all my other piercings I thought it would only be right to come to you for this one too."
"Just spit it out already."
"I want to get a Prince Albert."
You're eyes widen.
"Okay just so I know there isn't a miscommunication, I know some people like to make up names for piercings, you are aware a Prince Albert is located on your penis?"
"Yes, and I already did the research and shit."
"Okay. So if we're going to do this piercing I would need to take you to a closed backroom. Just for privacy reasons."
"Alright alright, I know."
Erik swings his legs around the chair standing up, and you quickly do so as well. You throw off your other black glove that you neglected to remove earlier into a bin next to your desk.
You had Erik follow you into a locked room in the back of your shop. You mess around with a bunch of keys on a Keychain attached to your belt loop before grabbing a bright pink one and unlocking the door with it.
You place the key back in your key ring and point to the chair in the middle of the room.
"You can go ahead and sit there."
Erik practically skipped over to the chair as he quickly sat down. You can't tell if it's from nerves or if he's genuinely excited.
Before you sit down you grab two more black gloves and tug them onto your hands snuggly. You grab a few items you're going to need. You take one of the alcohol pads and wipe the table before placing your needle, tube, alcohol pads, marker, and jewelry down.
You stay focused on your tools as you start to talk.
"Okay so before I do this, I am going to have to inform you of some health concerns that can come with these types of piercings, I know you said you researched but I still gotta inform you for y'know legal purposes or whatever."
"Whatever you gotta do doll."
Doll. The name made you blush. However, he couldn't tell due to the way you were sitting away from him.
"Okay so typically with these kinds of piercings since they go in your urethra, they can cause UTIs and STDs however that's a bit unlikely. If you have to go to the hospital say Micheal pierced you."
Erik laughed. You tried to lighten the mood, as you could tell how his breathing was starting to quicken as it got closer to the time to pierce him.
Erik wasn't a wuss when it came to getting pierced but he always tended to get a bit anxious right before.
You continued to talk.
"These piercings usually take 8 to 14 weeks to heal however I would wait up to 20 weeks before engaging in sexual intercourse."
You cringed at the string of words. Sexual intercourse? You and Erik were friends it wouldn't have been too weird to just say sex. However, you still tried to remain professional. Since you didn't want to get fired.
You finish your spiel of health risks that came along with the piercings. You stood up and threw away the gloves you used to set up your materials.
"Okay, so I'm going to step out and give you a bit of privacy to undress from the bottom down. You don't need to take off your pants but you're more than welcome too."
"More than welcome too? That sounds kind of weird."
"I'm required to say it shush."
"That's weird."
"Shut up."
You walk over to the door.
"Just give me two knocks when you're ready."
"Will do."
Erik gave you a thumbs-up as you walked out of the room closing the door behind you.
While he was getting ready you decided to change your sign that said Open to Closed since it was already so late. Once you were done with Eriks piercing it would be time to close shop.
You almost jump from the sound of the knocks on the door behind you. You rush over to the door slowly opening it.
"You ready?"
You try not to glance down at Erik who was now sitting back down in the chair with his pants draped over the top of the chair. His shoes are in front of him on the floor.
"I guess so."
You grab another pair of gloves tugging them onto your hands. You grab your blue marker and wheel over to the edge of the chair Erik was occupying.
You carefully grab Erik's penis opening the marker and marking a spot that he couldn't see yet.
"Is that good? Do you wanna it higher, lower?"
You place the lid back on the marker as Erik grabs his penis looking at the placement.
"It's good."
"You gettin' nervous?"
You could tell whenever Erik would get nervous during a piercing. He would only resort to the bare minimum of dialogue.
"Just a little."
You turn around to your table and grab a clear-looking tube and an 8-gauge needle.
"Okay, so this tube is just going to go in your urethra only to the point that I marked. It might be a little uncomfortable but it'll only take a second. However, tell me it hurts and we can maybe find another way to do this."
Erik slowly nods looking up at the ceiling and back down at his penis repeatedly.
You slowly put the tube in the proper place and hold the needle in your other hand.
"Do you want me to count off?"
"Y/N. You know me. When have I ever asked you to- FUCK!"
You poked the needle through his skin and are now grabbing the jewelry to put through it.
"I would recommend only using titanium jewelry for this piercing, I know we say that for all of them but since this one is in such a place that is susceptible to infection I would make extra sure that the jewelry in this one is always titanium."
You finish screwing the piercing closed and stand up to throw away your gloves.
You hear Erik chuckling behind you, which makes your heart flutter.
"Damn, you didn't even give me to think about anything."
"If you thought about it for too long you might've chickened out."
"When have I ever chickened out?"
"Well I mean you almost left my shop with one nipple piercing."
"What if that's just the look I wanted?"
"It wasn't."
You turn around to see Erik pulling up his underwear and pants over his freshly pierced penis. The sight makes your cheeks turn a shade of red.
"What? You like what you see?"
You were used to this kind of flirty nature from him.
"Erik."
"What?"
You grit your teeth.
"I still gotta be professional, you doofus."
"Oh right."
Erik winks at you as he zips up his pants and puts his shoes back on.
"So how much was this again?"
He asks.
"You know all your piercings are on the house."
"Yeah yeah."
You both walk out of the room, and you lock the door behind the both of you. And meet Erik at the front of your store.
You place your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your feet.
Erik points to your now Closed sign.
"I see you're closed."
"Yeah?"
"Does that mean you still gotta be professional?"
There's a pause for a moment. Not an awkward one. More of a comedic pause.
"I guess not."
"So how about let's say we go to a movie sometime?"
You chuckle a bit.
"What are you 15? And when would be going to this movie?"
You can see a smirk start to appear on his face.
"The next time you're off soooo..."
He looks down at his invisible watch before continuing.
"Next Wednesday? Maybe 6 pm?"
"You have my schedule memorized?"
You laugh.
"Just the days you're off..so I can know when we can hang out."
"Uh-huh.."
"So whatdya' say?"
"Sure."
You give Erik a warm smile and for a second his smirk is off his face and he replaces it with a smile.
"Okay, then I'll see you then."
Erik turns around to leave.
"See you later."
Erik walks out of your shop leaving you alone.
You grab your phone and resume the music that was playing before he arrived.
You couldn't help smiling like an idiot as you cleaned your shop for the night. Because you Y/N just scored yourself a date with Erik Campbell.
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flawlessflesh · 4 months ago
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it doesn't hurt, but what is this ugly feeling?
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clueingforbeggs · 3 days ago
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In a fascist military state, well, firstly, they probably wouldn't have been able to break into RAF Norton Brize in the first place, they only managed to because the defences weren't up to scratch at an RAF base.
In a fascist military state, if the military decided to support a country, which we do give military aid to Israel, the army would have started arresting or killing all supporters of Hamas, possibly even people who hate Hamas but support Palestinian people like myself and Geordie, a long time ago.
In a fascist military state, police officers wouldn't be waiting around to see if a protest turns violent, or if someone starts something clearly racially aggravated (as if they haven't already...) to someone who just kinda knows that Jews celebrate different holidays from Christians and are considered an ethnoreligious group.
In a fascist military state, people wouldn't have been able to protests in support of a terrorist group just because they find-and-replaces 'Hamas' with 'Palestine'. In fact, people still wouldn't be able to do so, as long as they aren't supporting PA.
In a fascist military state, there would be no press freedom. State news would report the narrative the military wants you to hear. Internet access would be much more restricted (there are a few restrictions on sites that break the law, but you probably wouldn't be reading this post on Tumblr without a VPN), and if you don't already, you'd know how to use a VPN and an onion browser. You'd know that sometimes a URL doesn't look like a URL. And you'd be risking everything every time you connected to the wider internet.
In a fascist military state, the Supreme Leader would not have responded to an attack by an ally fascist military state (hi Yanks, if we're one, you definitely are) on an enemy in the Middle East by asking that Supreme Leader to please try to restore peace, not continue fighting.
In a fascist military state, your childhood would have been very different. If you were a member of a youth group, like Scouts, you wouldn't know a single person who wasn't a Scout. If you weren't a Scout, sorry, you were. If you went to a state school, which I bet most of you reading this did, here's a new term for your vocabulary: Combined Cadet Force. In a fascist military state, it's not just a thing at some private schools, and a few state schools. You were part of that, too.
In a fascist military state, there's definitely conscription. I bet some of you voted for Starmer because Sunak wanted to bring in conscription. Sorry, but in a fascist military state, you are or were a conscript. And forget 'if you say no you have to do community service', if you say no, you go to jail or die. If you're older, you're likely now a reserve.
If you think that proscribing a group that has existed as a hate group since 2020, in 2025, makes the UK a 'fascist military state', just because the final straw was attacking a poorly defended military base... What do you gain from lying about how oppressed you are? Because that's all you're doing.
I see no difference between this and when an American sees a map of the world which points out privileges they have as an American, that people in other countries don't have, and decides that based on vibes the map must be racist, because it called people in parts of Africa oppressed or poor, and everyone knows that Americans are the real oppressed and poor people. Yes, this is about people who respond to shit like official metrics used to determine if a country should give monetary resources to other countries or receive the monetary resources as being 'part of the Eagleburger Goodness Index', or who think we should stop reporting on the state of press freedom across the globe because if we stick our heads in the sand about how some countries in Africa don't have much press freedom, if any, the issue will go away, and we can still treat the US as having the worst press freedom ever!
You are in, or at least talking about, a constitutional monarchy. A country which has a figurehead who inherits the title, an upper house of people with titles, a lower house of democratically elected people from different constituencies, some of whom (although they don't turn up) are part of Sinn Féin. Seriously, look up their history and tell me if you think they'd be allowed to exist in a fascist military state, let alone run for parliament.
The UK government proscribing a group that breaks into military bases and sabotages aircraft does not, at any level, make it a “fascist police state.” Be so fucking serious right now.
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ultrabeast01symbiont · 7 months ago
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world's worst heroine (affectionate)
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chimerafeathers · 29 days ago
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i love that isafrin can be the most straightforwardly romancey, wholesome pairing on a surface level and then you go one (1) level deeper and run into siffrin’s seething guilt and convoluted feelings around touch and intimacy and the extent to which they want or don’t want those things in a specifically romantic way or if he was trying to seek connection and love in any way he could once he knew that Isabeau wanted those things from him in that context, and the combined power trip/self disgust at “manipulating” Isabeau’s desires without his knowledge to make themself feel wanted and in control. and then you keep going and there’s also Isabeau’s own warped self image (still, in spite of all his changes, fearing that he’s someone that would be shameful to know), his “emotionally stable pillar” role and self-taught therapy talk masking his deep fears of real confrontation (struggling loop after loop to confess, not wanting Odile to confront Siffrin about their weird behavior in the sus quest bathroom talk) and how Siffrin’s fear of vulnerability and Isabeau’s fear of Pushing Too Hard allow both of their issues to fester unspoken long after it’s clear that the problems exist.
all this to say. duality of isafrin. makes my heart full and warm and happy to see the sweet, fluffy, silly love and connection between them (mutually romantic or otherwise). and then also. the delicious, delicious complications. gnawing on them like a dog with a beloved bone
#isat#isat spoilers#mypost#isafrin#loopsafrin#sloopis#<- for what i’m about to say because#and then. AND THEN. you add loop in there. and their unique convoluted feelings towards each of them#the pendulum swing between visceral hatred & jealousy & bitterness and overwhelming love & understanding & tenderness.#the guilt of loving a ‘replacement’ and forgetting the original. trapped in wondering what could have been in another life#if they hadn’t given it up.#AND their feelings towards isafrin as a pairing#[leans forward] it’s about the Yearning. and also about how knowing the yearning is mutual doesn’t actually resolve anything#because do you Deserve it. do you deserve to be here and part of this after everything you’ve done and failed to do.#is Having it any less painful than Not having it? or is just a different kind of agony#<- questions all 3 of them get to ponder.#bc isabeau is not immune to the guilt of knowing some version of him failed these people he claims to love over and over and over#until it broke one entirely and was almost too late for the other#BUT ALSO. falling in love with the same person twice. not just because of the similarities but because of the differences#<- true for both isabeau and loop#how can they not? but also how can they bear to?#siffrin and loop in a guilt contest about who Deserves happiness and acceptance more without recognizing that it can be possible for both#(not just in a romantic context but in an Everything context)#isabeau’s dissonance and isolation when faced with how well siffrin and loop Know and Understand one another#both because of their shared origins and bc they’re the only ones who know what the timeloop was Actually like#while everyone else is left piecing together scattered clues from the most tight-lipped people in existence#did you think this was an otp post. [rips off disguise] it was an ot3 post all along!!! mwahahaha!!!#to be clear every time i talk about a ship it will never just mean ‘this relationship But Romantic’#i mean every facet of what makes them compelling. the love and complications are both there in every interpretation#and that’s what i’m chewing on
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front-facing-pokemon · 2 years ago
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crossbackpoke-check · 5 months ago
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blessed be (lorscher bienensegen) | telling the bees (wiþ ymbe)
"Bees" [remixed, abridged], Claudia Emerson // "Letter to Someone Living Fifty Years from Now" [remixed. abridged], Matthew Olzmann // "Letter to my Great, Great Grandchild" [remixed, abridged], J.P. Grasser | Len Redkole, Nina Weiss, Brian Babineau, Christian Peterson, Mitchell Leff, Dave Isaac, Megan DeRuchie
#liv in the replies#if i were insane there would be an appendix to this called telling the bees however i finished this at 3am yesterday its nearly midnight &#my cutoff is when my ahl asg stream cuts. GOD by now i should know when i save a poem like hmm. not applicable but god it'd be perfect#THAT'S A CURSE. DON'T PUT IT IN THE DOCUMENT. DON'T SAVE IT. FORGET YOU READ IT. IT'S A CURSE!! <- things i should've told myself when i#went to read bees was already like 👀 &then the first line was FUCKING CLAUDE!!!!! anyway. sorry also this is like. insanely long but ALSO#regarding mf claude. the first picture is a leftover from the claude edit i made years ago so that feels GREAT and BEAUTIFUL & also for me#as ever y'all will be getting a full breakdown. starting with what i regularly have a breakdown about every time i see it which is joelle's#james 1:12 tattoo which if u use the king james version (gay) is blessed is he who perseveres under trial because having stood the test he#will receive the crown of life the lord has promised to those who love him. which i always go blessed is he who perseveres // for those who#love him. and that's joel. ignoring him getting it then getting sent down on his birthday IGNORING IT. also we know the frosty/maple leafs#hahaha fuck the flyers lore right? good. that's morgan and his dad also bc i love a baby picture & it was perfect. also the dave isaac pic#next was in an article talking about morgan 'stung' by draft camp. shut UP. i have an alt for tells him with claude and ALSO hate the#elephant w/phil bc myesie u fuckin leaf-eater (giraffe) but i love the composition of that jake shot & had to use it (it was also almost#tells him) with thylacine jakey frog nolan also raff the extinct whale bc i needed him here. if my editing on incapable of joy is bad no on#tell me i did some SHENANIGANS to put morgan in there & color-pick/alter his jersey. new skill. i think euphoria is one of my favorite for#the sake of pride night but ALSO that polaroid kills me very time &they're so stoners contemplate the universe but ALSO i love transcendenc#so that whole three photo string i think is my favorite. and i was in looking at these like listen okay it's okay there are only so many#photos in the world. you can repeat from others you've seen before. except ALSO there's so many of these freaks together do you separate#and every time i was like there can't be more there was more. don't ask the number of back-ups for the sweetest blossom/pinch/ruffle sets#okay also the ready to be stung one was a surprise favorite fit for me because i love that line but wasn't sure how to convey it? so it's o#i think with how morgan's face is and the almost of it all. yes joel hardest trier is in there purely for me i do have an alt but. how coul#u doubt him. insert sasha's tweet abt how much joel loves philly but all his quotes have been abt being excited for morgan to have a fresh#start. AND NOT EVEN TWO MINUTES IN CALGARY AND YOU'RE STILL INSEPARABLE god i literally googled frost farabee calgary to find the last#blessed [because. heard but not seen you know of everyone traded but you went together. not seen. (which ties into the terrible appendix)]#and IT DIDN'T EVEN TAKE ME TWO MINUTES TO FIND THAT!!! WHAT DO YOU MEANNN anyway. sorry again it's so long & also i will be vanishing a wee#& a half after posting [redacted] is kicking my ass & im doing [redacted fun things WAIT ACTUALLY U CAN KNOW ONE i'm seeing hippo campus]#morgan frost#joel farabee#philadelphia flyers#calgary flames
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cherrirui-official · 10 months ago
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New hyha looks weird, why is Salty bald??
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@saltydkart-reblogs
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