#I need to know what the correct answer is

[jesuistrestriste]

Sage hear me out...

Divorced dilf art who calls his younger gf mommy

art stays cooped up in the house all day—everyday—when you’re out at your hot new job.

he thinks about all the guys your age who probably ogle you and try to make passes at you, not knowing that you’ve got a man pushing 40 waiting at home for you with dinner and a pair of warm, strong open arms.

sigh.

when you do get home, he’s there to greet you (as always). he walks over and holds you close; kissing your cheek, and then your lips and your neck. each one soft and sweet and attempting to wipe your mind of any flirtation from younger men that you may or may not have endured throughout the afternoon.

“hi,” he whispers, and you slide your fingertips down his lower back, making him tremble like a wet kitten.

“hey, baby,” you hum in return. you’re shorter than him, and so when he leans his weight into you his forehead naturally falls into your shoulder. he smells like warmth and outdated cologne and need.

he mouths at your neck in the next moment, his hands sliding to lovingly cup your waist, “i missed you so much.. can i have you now?” he breathes out, his voice shaking and pleading. you feel something thick and warm press into your hip from inside his sweatpants.

and you chuckle and shake your head. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a petulant whimper.

“i missed you too,” you nip at his ear, “but i need you to use your manners if you want something from me.”

he stiffens for a moment before he stumbles forward a bit, taking you with him and gently pushing your back up against the door. “i’m sorry.”

the apology spills from his lips with an earnest desire to make his obedience known. he’d never want to disappoint you. you’re all he has these days.

“can i… can i please have you now?”

a breath. a shake of your head. a rock of his hips against your body followed by a sorrowful, begging moan.

“no?” he shifts against you, his body aching for yours.

“you’re forgetting something, Art.”

it only takes a moment for him to process your words before he’s mumbling a slurry of “i’m so sorry”s into your neck. but apologies only go so far, don’t they? he needs to correct his behavior. he needs to show you that he knows what you want from him.

“please…” he whispers, “please, mommy..”

the honorific rolls off his tongue like honey, heavy and sweet. it hangs in the air between you two and then you let out a low chuckle, “much better.”

“mommy,” he breathes out again, his erection involuntarily pulsing against your body through his clothes, “mommy, mommy, mommy—ngh“

his tone grows more desperate with each mumbling of the word; higher in pitch and more urgent. your hands move up to stroke his short blonde hair, and then you whisper into his ear.

“what do you want?”

god, what doesn’t he want? he wants your hand down his pants, your perfect cunt wrapped around his unworthy cock, your mouth, your lips, your tits. everything.

but he knows you. he knows that this is a trick question. you’re phrasing it like you’re going to give him something, a treat—a reward, but it’s a bit of a trap.

there’s a right and a wrong answer here. pick the wrong one, and he’s in for a night of painful orgasm denial (coupled with a ruined one to end the evening).

but luckily, art is smart. he knows what you want to hear.

“i.. i wanna eat mommy out.”

you pull back gently from him; and judging by the look that spreads over your face when he says that, he picked the right response.

you smile, and then your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders. in an instant, art finds himself being pushed down to the floor in front of you. he can’t help but scoot forward and shove his boner against your ankle, rutting himself into your soft skin as he dribbles precome in his briefs.

you lean back against the door, hiking up your skirt, before you’re looking down to him expectantly.

“don’t make me do all the work, baby,” you practically purr.

art’s hands scramble up your thighs to your panties, which he peels off of your sticky core with wide eyes, letting the thin fabric garment fall to pool at your heels. you giggle.

you kick them off to the side, feeling your boyfriend’s hands clutched around your legs. you sling a leg over his left shoulder, spreading your folds for him to see, and he wastes no time in parting his lips and engulfing your heat with his mouth.

you groan, letting your head loll back, and you move your fingers wander to the back of his hair once more to push his face further against you. you grind on his eager tongue, feeling him flick it over your clit as he whimpers and suckles. what a slut.

his baby blues look up to you with weighted lids, lapping at your cunt like it’s something he’s been starved of for years. his pupils dilate intensely as he stares up at you like you’re a god; something holy and unreal. and when you shake over his mouth’s ministrations, getting close, he lets out a long, drawn-out whine into your core.

he’s murmuring something that sends vibrations up your spine from the coil deep in your gut. it’s hard to make anything out when he’s drowning in you and loving it, but you can decipher bits and pieces.

“please, mommy”

“come in my mouth, mommy”

“give it all to me, mommy”

“i can take it, mommy”

you’re everything he’s ever dreamt about. you bend his perception of time and space and reason and logic. how could a sweet, beautiful, young thing like you ever want a washed-up, older athlete like him?

he prays that you don’t only like him for his money, and then he closes his eyes and mouths at your sensitive bud. he drools all over it like a sick dog, his brows pinching up as he moans out incoherent pleas for you to finish.

and holy fuck, you come hard.

a strangled cry jolts out of you as your back arches, mixing with a helpless sob from art, and then you absolutely soak his tongue with your juices. it gushes all over his face and he swallows as fast as he can; hell, he nearly chokes on it.

“ffffuck! art! oh my god, good boy, good boy, such a good boy!”

you rock over him until your orgasm recedes, and you pull his head back from you shakily by your tender hold on his hair. strings of your slick cling to the lower half of his face and the tip of his nose; a lewd squelch echoing out as he’s forcefully disconnected from your body. a dazed smile graces your lips and you peer down to watch as art’s hips shake against the hardwood floor and a dark stain appears at the front of his sweats. it’s a pathetic sight, really.

but you watch him moan softly and keep his gaze trained on you as he wipes his chin messily with the back of his hand.

“was i good?” he whispers, like he’ll cry if you say no.

he needs to hear you say it when he’s not lost in the throes of your climax.

your chest is still heaving while you try to slow your labored breaths, but you lean down anyways and meet his lips with yours. you taste yourself on his tongue. he shudders and winces.

you pull back, your bottom lip brushing his.

“so good, baby..”

art kisses the corner of your mouth softly, just once. he’s melting into you.

he loves you. but he swallows that down for now. he opts to murmur out something that’ll sum up everything he feels in a more palatable manner. something that makes him seem less desperate to keep you all to himself for as long as you can tolerate him.

something that he’s earnestly dying to say.

something that he knows you deserve to hear.

“thank you.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Don't Gotta Work 2

Warnings: unsolicited nudes, light stalking, allusions to coercive sexual acts.

I would appreciate a little feedback on this tiny whim of mine! Thanks to any all and hope you enjoy.

Your phone chimes, jarring you from a deep sleep. You scramble to grab it. Your heart picks up. Is it Mr. Scarmer? You must have overslept your alarm. 

Your panic dissipates as you realise it’s still early. The room is dim and your vision fuzzy with the dregs of sleep. You groan and squint at the screen. A WhatsApp message from some random number. Another spam bot. 

You go to tap block but instead miss and hit the notification itself. The app loads and opens the conversation. You’re met with an unexpected and unwelcome image. A man’s reflection from neck down, naked, posing, erect! 

You yipe and toss the phone away from you. Oof! What the hell is that? Do guys really pull that stuff now? Sending unsolicited nudes to randos.  

You cringe and shudder in repulsion. You reach for your phone, covering the photo with your hand as you open tap the settings button in the top corner. Below, another message pops up. 

‘Like what you see buttercup?’ 

You hesitate. Buttercup? Only one person ever calls you that... You shift your hand so you can only see the top half of the picture. The arms, the freckles, the chest; you’re pretty sure it’s him. You should’ve figured that out sooner. 

You bring the menu up again and block. You haven’t seen him since that day he threatened you. That’s what he did. His promises can only be that. 

He sent more flowers too but you refused the delivery. The chocolate-dipped berries were also sent back. And the final gift you ignored completely until it disappeared from the hallway. 

You lay back down. Figures. You finally get into a good sleep and the rude awakening has you restless. You close your eyes and fight for another hour before your alarm goes off. You don’t get even half of that. 

You get up and get dressed. You ready yourself with a mug of coffee steaming beneath the mirror. You sip throughout your morning routine. You finish the cup and wait a couple minutes before brushing your teeth. As you put on lip gloss, you check the time. You should get going. 

You step into a pair of low beige heels and rush to the door with your handbag swing. You squeak as you walk straight into a wall outside. You stagger back as Lloyd smirks down at you. He scrunches his nose and clucks. 

“Morning, buttercup,” he raises his arm above you to grip the door frame, “you miss me?” 

You back up and grab the door. You don’t get a chance to shut it before he has his other hand on the wood. He holds it open as he looms over you. 

“Now, let’s not spoil the day before it’s begun,” he purrs. “You didn’t answer my message so I just had to make sure you’re okay. I worry about you, baby.” 

“No, you need to go. You can’t be here.” You push on the door but he’s too strong. “I mean it, Mr. Hansen--” 

“How many times do I gotta correct you, buttercup? It’s almost like you’re begging for a spanking,” he growls and leans it. 

“Ugh, Lloyd,” you spit out his name, “I mean it. I need to get to work so please, not right now--” 

“Again, I don’t like repeating myself. Buttercup, I’m gonna say it slowly this time. You don’t gotta work. Well, you’ll be doing a different type of work,” he winks. 

He lets go of the door and tries to step inside. You shove his chest and he grabs your wrists with a snicker. He clings to you and pulls you off-balance. 

“Oh, kitty’s got claws,” He holds your hands against his chest. “Mmm, you know, that feels exactly how I imagined. Your hands on my chest, warm, soft... but you were straddling me in my mind--” 

“Get off!” You tug your arms but can’t get free. “Lloyd, please--” 

He narrows his eyes and shakes his head. He pushes your hands back behind you and brings them together. He traps you close to him and walks you into the apartment. He kicks the door shut as he enters and he exhales deeply. 

“I tried being nice, buttercup. I don’t do that. I usually just shove my hand down the hottest girls’ pants and she’s down,” he tisks. “You want me to work for it. I worked. Now you gotta pay.” 

You wriggle in his grasp and whimper. You stare up into his eyes and gulp. You try to twist free of him but it’s useless. You’re not going to make it to work. 

[swagpeytato]

Yandere!Neglectful Batfam x Batmom!Reader PART 3

With the Batfamily

Everyone had gathered in the Bat cave, surrounding Tim as he looked over the divorce papers. He was struggling. Tim didn’t believe this was real. In fact he thought Y/n was full of shit, and just pulled this little stunt for attention, but he just wanted to be sure. Because if she left the media would get suspicious, and she would disrupt the natural order of the family. 

He didn’t believe it was real…….but it was very very convincing. Almost as if it was real. But it couldn’t be real…right?

Bruce was angry, and worried. He was so enraged that his wife would ever do this to his children-to him. Putting all this unnecessary stress on them, just because she wanted attention. And he didn’t even know how long she’d been gone…..come to think about it, he didn’t know the last time he even spoke to her. That’s what he needed to do!

How could he be so stupid? He just needed to call her phone, and that would be that. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through looking for her contact, only to see the last time it was dialed was 3 years ago. That was a little after Jason came back. How has it been that long? Brushing this aside, he called her, expecting it to be answered immediately, but was surprised when the caller ID said disconnected. This was getting worrisome. The others looked toward him with furrowed eyebrows. When had she disconnected her phone? And what was her new number? Why hadn’t she told him?

As he mulled over these questions, an unknown number called him. Thinking it was his wife, he answered it right away, with his hopes of finding out what was going on skyrocketing. What he didn’t expect was to hear a deep, familiar chuckle. The Joker. It was at this moment that Bruce’s world came crashing down.

With Y/n and the Joker

Y/n woke up with a grunt, the cold steel room being an anchor, bringing her back to reality. She didn't know where she was, and she hoped and prayed that what she did remember was a very unsettling nightmare. She knew, however, that this was false hope as she looked around the room, and saw the Joker leaning against the wall, his goons straying not too far from him. 

“I didn’t think it’d take ya that long to wake up. Although I should expect the Bat never trained ya, huh?” he chuckled darkly, his wide grin sending shivers down y/n’s spine. She knew she was in danger, but she couldn’t help herself from trying to save her case. 

“He won’t come!” she blurted out in desperation. He perked up at that. Seeing that she piqued his interest, she continued. “He doesn’t care about me. He hates me even, they all did, that’s why I was in Jump City……” she hesitated before continuing, “I needed to get away, and I doubt they even knew I was gone. Even if you do tell him you have me, he probably won’t come.”

The Joker was pleasantly surprised. He had already told Bruce, and he seemed to care about Y/n more than anything. He reacted even worse than he did with Jason. So either she was lying, which he doubted she was based on the look in her eyes, or, Bruce realized his mistakes, and was going to stop at nothing to correct it. 

The Joker knew Bruce, better than the back of his hand even, and how Bruce reacted under stressful situations. This however was not just a stressful situation, this was the “love of his life”, and this worried him. Batman had never sounded so angry. While he was lost in thought, Y/n spoke again, voice filled with sadness.

“You already told him, didn’t you?” all she felt was sorrow. She had been kidnapped, and even then, that wasn’t enough to garner attention from her family. She had already lost her parents not too long after she married Bruce, and now she was sure she had no one. “He’s not coming. You might as well just kill me, and get it over with…..” Tears leaked down her face as her voice trailed off.

“I don’t think I will. He seemed to care a lot when I told him I had ya. He was angry.” His smile had widened a significant amount, thinking of all the possibilities to beat Batman. This was going to be fun.

Hope you all enjoy! 😁 😁

@redkarmakai @moonieper @thatpersonnamedrook @madine11-blog @bat1212 @feral-childs-word @resident-cryptid @ch1cky-093 @sweetconnoiseurgardener @sillysealsies @dhanyasri @bloodyboi

[gahellhimself-blog]

⚠️important informations⚠️

Hey everyone,

I would like to have a moment to talk about the comic Teach Me with you all.

For some time now, and especially since we reached the end of Chapter 2, I have had a few remarks regarding Mr Fell. I understand the criticism that has been written, and that is why I would like to give a few explanations.

I have been working on this comic since around January, first alone, then with my amazing team (<3).

This story evolved a lot since the beginning; as a remind, or information for anybody who joined this adventure recently, this comic shouldn't have grown to be this size, shouldn't even exist to begin with. It did end up taking a spot in my life and mind that I had not planned for at all.

First of all, because it targets themes that I hold very dear; first one being that of transidentity, especially transmasculinity.

Then, because the characters themselves have evolved with the story as it came to be built as time went by.

I make it my personal mission to ensure that this story makes sense, without it going too far either. This means that I am trying, as much as I can, to keep from targetting scenarios deemed "problematic", which as you all might imagine isn't the easiest to do when the story's backbone is the relationship between a professor and a student.

This means a lot of work, but it is extremely satisfying, as it makes everything more interesting and deeper in its narrative meaning.

I was told several times that "my" Aziraphale is very different from the canon Aziraphale: yes, that is after all an Alternative Universe. The canon character is only the base on which we have built the character of Pr. A. Fell.

I can also understand that it would be troubling; however, all you have seen of the characters until now exists for a reason. I am the first to be sorry that I cannot say more at the moment, but I will have to ask you to trust me: if I am not saying anything more, it is all for the benefit of the story itself, as they will surely take another meaning and dimension once you have every piece of information available to you that will allow you to re-read it under a very different light.

Finally, I would like to clarify one important element:

I staunchly refuse to have relationships between adults and minors or grooming in my stories. As much as I can, I avoid age gaps that would be too jarring, and when I do, it will be for the benefit of the story's coherence; same thing applies to power dynamics and imbalances.

Please do not forget that English isn't my native language: I do not have all the codes of language (I think of the hashtags for example), as they can be very different from the French ones. Therefore, I ask that if you see something that looks jarring in my descriptions or answers, you tell me about it. In order to get better at communicating what I mean, I need to know what I have to correct.

Thank you all, both for your incredible support and your criticism, which allow me to grow better.

Gael

Thanks to @kotias for the translation.

See ya in November (at least) for the chapter 3.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

The Princess and The Knight(Chapter Two)

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: mentions of the basilisk

By your second year, Mattheo had made a reputation of being a dick and getting into fights. Many people avoided him, only his few friends you met on the train on the way to Hogwarts talked with him.

And you. You tried, at least. He would give short replies the whole time. ‘Yes’ ‘No’ ‘Maybe’ ‘I don’t know’ ‘Okay’ “Whatever’ That was pretty much his whole vocabulary with you.

His friends were okay with you. Not particularly friendly or went out of their way for you, but they weren’t rude to you and you were never one of their targets, which you were thankful for.

Second year started, and that was the year that there was something roaming Hogwarts, killing students. You were terrified, as any normal person would be.

You sat down in Potions next to Mattheo the day after the first attack, still a bit shaken up from the news.

“Did you hear about what happened?” You asked Mattheo as you started setting up your things for class.

“With the cat? Yes.” Mattheo answered, seeming unphased.

“I can’t believe something like that could happen here.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It's just a cat. It'll be fine, probably.” Mattheo shrugged.

“What if it happens to a student though?” You ask, leaning forward to lean on the desk.

“Are you scared?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you, like he was confused about your reaction.

“Well, yeah. That could've happened to anybody. That's terrifying.”

“You don't have to be scared. Nothing's gonna happen to you.” His expression softened slightly.

“How can you be so sure? How are you not scared?” You asked, confused about his laid back attitude about it all.

He shrugged again, refusing to answer the questions. “Do you need me to protect you? Will that make you feel safe?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

It almost took you back for a second. He was sarcastic with you often, but the question caught you off guard. But you quickly recovered. “Aw, are you offering to be my knight in shining armor?” You smiled at him.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “As if. You're not a princess, you know.”

“Only princesses get knights then?”

“Correct.”

You were about to respond, but Snape spoke up, starting his lesson.

After some more attacks, the school implemented a rule that you couldn’t walk alone and to always walk with someone else. You didn’t really know anyone in your potions class other than Mattheo, so you weren’t sure who you were going to walk with, but you figured you’d find someone when the time came.

So now, potions class had ended and you were packing up, watching everyone walk in pairs or groups out of the classroom. You grabbed your bag and headed to the door, but noticed everyone was gone. You frowned, but figured since the halls were filled with students, you shouldn’t have an issue getting to your next class and headed out of the classroom.

“Breaking the rules now?” You heard Mattheo say after you took a few steps out the door.

“What?” You turned to see him pushing himself off the wall and coming to your side.

“Not following the ‘walking with someone’ rule. You’re alone.” He said, grabbing your arm to make you keep walking before letting go.

“Everyone had someone else already.” You shrugged as you fell into step beside him.

“I guess that leaves us then.”

“You didn’t want to walk with anyone else?” You asked curiously.

“They’re all idiots, I’m not walking with them.” He answered simply.

“You know, I think I recall you saying something about only princesses getting knights.” You said in a playful tone.

“Yeah, and?”

“Does that mean I’m a princess now?” You joked.

“And I’m a knight then?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah.” You smiled at him.

“Fine then, princess. I guess I’ll be your knight for our 5 minute walk to your class.” He said sarcastically.

He walked with you between classes when he could, still keeping up the defense that he didn’t want to walk with anyone else since they were idiots. When they finally lifted the rule, he walked you to class one last time.

“Guess you won’t be needing my protection anymore, princess.” He said as you approached your class.

“Unfortunate. I was getting used to you walking with me.” You said, pouting playfully.

“Not like you’re never going to see me again.” He rolled his eyes at your pout.

“Might as well, though. It was the most you ever spoke to me.”

“Oh, shut up.” He stopped in front of your classroom.

“Well, I guess you’re retired now, my knight. Your services were appreciated.” You said with a small smile, chuckling when he rolled his eyes again, but this time with his own small smile.

“You’re stupid.”

“I know.”

There was a small moment of silence as you stared at each other, finally breaking when another student squeezed past you two to get into the classroom.

“Well, I better get to class. I’ll see you later, Mattheo.” You said and headed to your classroom.

“Yeah, later.” You heard him say before he started heading to his own classroom.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff @leandre2006

@call-me-mishi @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @brittney-121 @leovaldezsbitch

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddleluvbot @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15 @starryslytherin0

@jolly4holly @st0n3dbarbi3 @kurumbukaari @whydoireadanymore @sweet-afternoon

@ilovehpb0ys @princessluvssleep @satosugu4-ever @reys-letters @mattiesgirl

@alwayslatetothefandoms @satosugu4-ever @whydoireadanymore @reys-letters @mcdonaldshelppage

@shaquilles-0atmeal @feistyfox47 @gillyweeds @pluto-9456 @jooniebluesworld

@hereticdance @lxserriddle @cindyss @saint-marvel @atadoddinnit

@simpforromance @yours-truly-5

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[infiniteko]

I am not here to change your Mind

by Being_is_IT

Q: You always stress dropping investigation of phenomena. if you cannot know what this is, how can you even call it infinity? if you don't know what it is, how can you be sure its actually not a finite universe?

A: Yes, it looks and feels like a finite world. The Mind is okay to assume that way, and that the Mind will find all kinds of proofs to support this idea. Then, what? The Mind is not satisfied, it keeps wondering endlessly. It keeps looking for confirmation. Right now and right here, the Mind is seeing the "realness" just like the observing Mind in a dream was seeing the "realness" of the dream episode. The seer is the effect of the Mind, the seen is also the projection projected by the same effect of the Mind. Do you see a seemingly perfect self-satisfying circular loop spinning? You may say that there is an energetic effect of observing, but there is never an observer and there are never any observed objects either. Yes, you are correct. I don’t know what it is. It does look like a finite universe. I can’t determine what it actually is either. Yes, you’re also correct to say that “infinity” is just a concept. Calling it "infinity" is just a conceptual determination. I can’t determine such a concept named as “infinite” is actually established itself. Yes, nothing is deterministic, even such an idea of “indeterminacy” itself cannot be determined to be valid either. So, every direction you go, you will find traps of circular logic that defies resolution. I am not here to change your Mind.

Q: I just asked a question.

A: It's okay to ask questions. I don't mean to criticize you. I am pointing out that the Mind assumes that it can reach enlightenment by changing the Mind or by improving the Mind or by getting a perfect answer for the Mind, that's not the case at all. Please notice, the question is not actually asked by a "you", but by the functioning of the Mind itself. The "you" you think you possess is not an actual entity, but an imagined entity from the Mind. So, it's not exaggerating to say that the idea for "you" is an interpretation of the Mind. "You" is the same as the Mind. Instead of getting an answer for the question, instead of satisfying the Mind's desire, see if you can discern the absurdity for the question itself. Then, you can discern the absurdity for the logical assumptions projected by the Mind and then transcend the function of the Mind. Please keep asking questions. Each question is an opportunity to see the absurdity for the logic that the Mind thinks is making sense. The so-called "sense" that the Mind makes is actually *non-sense*.

Noticing experience is direct. No thinking, no presumption, no knowledge, no analysis is needed for such noticing. Just like you taste the raw flavor of lemon, without thinking you get to know the unspeakable flavor immediately. You don't need to have any presumption. You allow IT to tell you what it is in non-spoken ways, rather you think or assume what it is.

Yes, you may discern that way like you described. Noticing is even simpler than the way you described. Noticing is noticing experience without labeling it as "Mind" or not "Mind". You don't know what experience is. You don't need to know anything in order to notice, labeling what you don't know as "Mind" or anything else is already too much conceptualization. Conceptualization is speculation. Yes, any knowledge you have, any determination you have, is the interpretation from the Mind.

[knight-dwx-09]

The New Admin

Jaune angrily open his bedroom’s door and slam it as hard as he can before storming into his bed and face plant on his pillow.

Jaune: Stupid Dad! Stupid Mom! Stupid Sisters! I did managed to save Jeanne from a Grimm so why can’t I become a huntsman?

Alexander: And that almost cost you your life

Jaune stop for a moment at the echo of his dad, turning his body to the roof and showing tears in his eyes. All the frustration and anger has left his body, and now, the only thing left was sadness and pain as he speak in a defeat tone.

Jaune: Why didn’t you believe in me dad? Am I really that talentless that you wouldn’t give me a chance? I just want to make you proud… make everyone proud…

He want to curled up to himself and go to sleep, hoping that it was just a nightmare… but a part of him still want to become a hero, even if his family didn’t believe in him. Then out of nowhere, a blue screen materialize in thin air with message on it.

It was…

Jaune: Huh? “Welcome to the system, Developer”? What is this?

[This is the developer’s Semblance]

Jaune: *Tilted his head* And what is a semblance?

[System level is too low to provide the answer]

Jaune: *Titled his head even more* huh… is there anything I need to know?

[The system will help the developer to grow stronger and reach the dream developer has]

[Aura are needed to open up the system]

Jaune: So I need this aura to keep whatever this is going?

[Incorrect]

[System will always be active even without aura but required it to access the system]

Jaune: And what is an Aura?

[System level is too low to provide the answer]

Jaune frowned at the exact same answer it had given to him.

Jaune: Then can you tell me at least how I can increase the level of the system?

[By gathering enough point through killing monster and change the story for the better then invest it to the system]

He began to piece some stuff together and from what he can gather, this system feel like some RPG game where you grow stronger by gaining experience and level up from beating the enemies and completing quests.

Then, he can become a huntsman even if he was talentless and this immediately brighten up him as a smile creep onto his face.

[Please chose one person to become your player]

Jaune: Huh?

[Developer can have one player to begin with. Having a player under the system will help the Developer to grow at higher rate]

Jaune: And how does that help me to grow?

[System level is too low to provide the answer]

At this point, that sentence had become really annoying to hear.

Jaune: Fine, as long as this can help me to become a hero

[That is correct]

[When Developer grow strong enough and have mastery over the system. New features could be added to benefit both Developer and the players]

Jaune simply nodded his head as he read the message.

[So please, choose one person to become Developer’s player]

Then a list of names appears on the screen which some he knows like his family, and lots of he doesn’t know.

[List of potential players]

- Ruby Rose

- Yang Xiao Long

- Lie Ren

- Pyrrha Nikos

- Weiss Schnee

- Juniper Arc (Locked)

- Alexander Arc (Locked)

- Trivia Vanille

- Ozma (Locked)

- Zwei

[Press here for the next page]

[Developer may choose only one player for now]

[Warning: The player will be given the choice if they want to accept to become Developer’s player. If they decline, Developer will be unable to pick them for 3 years. But don’t worry, Developer can choose another player immediately]

After reading all of that, this cause him to become extremely nervous at who he will choose since he could only have one at first. He want to pick the names he recognize but…

Jaune: Why even bother showing me my parents if I can’t choose them?

[System level is too low to provide the answer]

His eye twitch in annoyance.

[itsnotbird]

Orphic ~ File 3

Abience (n) ; the strong urge to avoid someone or something

Bucky!Barnes x Fem!Reader

Find previous part here

Masterlist

An entire month passes since the strange incident. A complete month fades before you’re even mentioned again amongst the Avengers, and that’s only because Nick Fury turns back up with a thick looking file.

It’s all hushed whispers, and he and Tony spend an hour and thirty minutes in a conference room, discussing just what was in the file.

“I still can’t believe I missed something as big as this.” Nat says, trying to listen in on the conversation. Her ear pressed to the locked door, Steve, Wanda, and Sam wait behind her, all curious too.

“Yeah, it was certainly interesting.” Steve adds, arms crossed over his chest. His morals say not to eavesdrop, but he’s only human after all and he’s completely curious.

Inside the room, Tony rubs his head, trying to process the information.

“It’s a brand new case that opened up, all because Barnes pulled her from the street. I wouldn’t be here if I thought she couldn’t be trusted.” Fury states in a serious manner, watching Tony pick up a few more photos.

He aches, knowing how bad he treated you. Now, your life is spread out in front of him, showing him exactly why you acted the way you did.

“You really want us to take this on? To take her on?” He asks, pushing the evidence photos out of his sight, not baring to look at your marks and the brand on the back of your neck any longer.

Fury gathers the multitude of papers and sorts them back into the correct places. “She’s smart, really smart.” He says. “She was monitored, observed, we learned her habits, her behavior. She’s perfectly in control of her power, we made immense progress…”

Tony cocks his head. “But?”

“But, she’s just a little odd. She told us everything she knew, then went completely silent. Her therapist said it’s normal, it’s how she copes. If you ask her to do a task, she’ll do it, she knows the importance of her cooperation…she just needs to work on her people skills. That’s why I want her here.”

His jaw sets, then he groans at Fury’s request. “Fine. We’ll put her here.”

Fury smirks, closing his brief case up. “Good, she’ll be moved here in an hour.”

Tony glares. “How did you know I’d agree?”

Fury simple chuckles. “Because you never turn away strays anymore, even if it makes you grumpy.”

What the group waiting outside doesn’t expect is for the door to open so suddenly, making them earn a displeased look from Fury as he walks past them.

“Oh, good, some of you are already here.” Tony states, motioning them in. “Team meeting.”

- - - -

“How are the nightmares?”

Bucky stays silent, then looks at the clock to see if his mandatory hour is up yet.

It isn’t.

“I don’t have them.” He half lies, looking back to Dr. Raynor.

She gives him a look. “I don’t believe that.”

He fights his urge to groan. “Well, maybe you should, Doc.”

She sighs, then clicks her pen and pulls her notebook to her.

“Oh, don’t start with the damn notebook.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “I’m talking, aren’t I? That was the deal? I talk, you don’t write.”

The woman shakes her head. “You’re talking but giving no real answers.”

“I told you I’m not having the same nightmares.” He reasons, not realizing he just lead on to more questions.

“So you’re having different ones?” She asks, putting her pen down and giving him her full attention.

“I guess, yeah.” He shrugs, grinding his back molars.

“Are they better or worse?”

He wanted to storm out of the room, and he would if he wouldn’t get arrested. She had a way of poking and prodding at him, it made him twitch. Or maybe he was still feeling the side effects of the strange girl that shocked his nervous system.

“I don’t know…they’re different.” He states, a curt tone.

“What’s different about them?”

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m not…killing people. Guess that’s progress, huh?” He attempts to joke, but she doesn’t smile, she just urges him to continue. So he looks down at his knee bouncing up and down.

“There’s someone else in them…this person.”

She’s interested in this. “A different person? Do you know them?”

I pulled her from the rain.

“No, not really.”

Raynor nods. “This is good, this is change. What is this person doing in the dreams?”

His fists clench, he bites his tongue for a moment too long. “She’s not doing anything except for just being there-”

“She?”

Crap. Now he’s said too much.

“Can we just talk about something else?” He grumbles, blinking hard in hopes of pushing the vision of your grey eyes out of his mind.

“You want to talk about something else?” She sighs. “Okay, how about other small changes you’re making? Have you been talking to your friends? Steve, Sam?”

Bucky sneers. “Sam isn’t my friend.”

Raynor rolls her eyes. “You get my point. Have you been talking to them?”

“Yeah, we chat over tea.” He says in a dry sarcastic tone.

The woman shakes her head. “We talked about this, you can’t push people completely away. When I suggested the apartment, I told you it was to heal on your own time, with no negative influences. That didn’t mean stop talking to the people who care about you.”

She had no clue what she was talking about, it made him agitated. When Raynor determined that he wasn’t going to discuss this either, she lets out a long sigh, then looks at him in question.

“You gonna get a haircut?” She asks.

He throws his hands up. “Now my hair’s the problem? You’re extra passive aggressive today, Doc.”

“You say that every session, James. I’m just asking a question because it’s getting a little long.”

He rubs his temple where he feels a headache coming on. “If I get a haircut, will you stop being so harsh?”

“No.”

What is he doing with his life?

- - - -

The team would have been more welcoming to you if they could find you.

Simply, you find a very quiet corner and sit there, listening and observing. Not necessarily hiding, but people tend to pass by without even noticing.

“Where is she?” Nat asks the guys who stand in the dining room, waiting for the meal to be done.

They all sort of shrug, it’s Steve that motions in a direction.

“I think she’s in the west hallway, by the ficus plant.” He says.

Natasha scoffs. “Did anyone tell her we are going to eat dinner?” She asks, looking between the group of them.

They all share a look of ‘did we?’

The answer is no.

“Maybe you guys should work on your people skills.” She says before walking off to retrieve you.

It even takes her a second to find you, but when she does, she smiles softly. Crouching to your level, she reaches for the phone in your hands that has about ten contacts and a music app. You search the music library, clicking on songs you’ve never heard before. They play through your headphones, a gift from Fury himself when your therapist expressed your love for music.

As Natasha lowers the phone from your face, you gently jump in surprise, then take the headphones off.

“Hi.” She says. “We’re going to be eating dinner, I’m sorry if people ignored you.”

You don’t respond, just nod.

“I’m Natasha.” She introduces as you stand from your corner, and she looks you over.

Your shoes were not laced up, you had knee high socks on that the hem of your dress dusted. A much too large sweater hung over your frame to help keep your body temperature warm, though it doesn’t help too much.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to sneak you out and we’re going to the mall. Okay?” She tells you, feeling bad that you’re wearing clothes S.H.E.I.L.D pieced together from a donation bin.

You look at your outfit and then nod, enjoying the idea of wearing pants.

You trail behind this sudden new friend, still intimidated by the large size of the facility. Soon, you enter the more comforting area of the compound and the full table of faces greet you with unsure smiles.

“Sit here.” Natasha says, pointing to the empty chair between her and Steve.

You do just that, but what you don’t expect is for the face across from you to be so…tense.

Bucky came to dinner after Raynor said all the right words to piss him off. He needed to prove her wrong, needed to prove that he could socialize…he just chose not to…and he had to be here for the new project plan in the morning. But what he didn’t think was going to happen was the girl that’s been tormenting him for a month to come and sit across from him. Your outfit was strange and pieced together, your long hair was in a braid that laid on your shoulder, you sat there with confusion and unsureness as everyone began to eat and talk.

You stayed completely silent.

“You don’t need permission to eat.” Steve softly whispers as a reminder as he sees your hesitation.

Right.

Free will.

You had that now.

Utensils scraped on plates, people joked and laughed, you just ate in the most polite way possible.

Bucky stared.

And most get uncomfortable by it, but you just stare back. It’s not a glare, there’s no meaning of anger behind it, it’s just a shared expression that catches the attention of the ones around you.

“Oh great, we got another one that stares.” Sam exclaims.

Steve clears his throat. “That’s James, or Bucky, whatever you want to call him.” He tells you, and of course you don’t respond, just hold the strange eye contact.

Bucky’s the first to break, he talks a gulp of water and looks away.

Tony breaks up the awkwardness. “Alright, Five? Is that what they’re calling you? Your room is next to Nat’s, remember? So that’s where you go after your infusion.”

You nod, and it raised confusion.

“Infusion?” Steve asks as you stare at your spoonful of mashed potatoes before taking the bite.

Tony looks at you, almost expecting you to answer the Captains question. You’re distracted though with finishing your meal to show you are appreciative of their kindness.

So Tony continues. “There’s just some things she needs until we can ween her off of it.”

You hate the way he says it, with pity like you’re a sick animal. A junky.

Your plate is clean now, you put your dirty utensils on it and then finish your water.

No one notices this habit except for Bucky.

Because he remembers doing that. He remembers completing tasks so carefully and waiting for either approval or a slap in the face. It makes him feel odd, makes him want to reach across the table and knock your neat work over.

You pull the sleeves of the chunky sweater over your hands, feeling a wave of tiredness sweep through you as well as that almost violent shiver of coldness. Everyone is lost in conversation about what the plan was for tomorrow, but you feel that teasing heat source radiate beside you and can’t help the way you lull towards it.

“Is this normal?” Steve asks as he feels the way you lean into his side, like a reptile to a heat lamp.

You’re asleep in an instance.

Bruce frowns. “The place she came from had her on a lot of bad stuff…the doctors who were assigned to her at SHEILD say her nerves are kind of shot. That’s why she’s always cold. As far as the falling asleep thing…well, she’s kind of traumatized so that tends to make people exhausted.”

Everyone gets very quiet, and Bucky knows that look on his best friend’s face. His brows are creased, eyes a little sad as he looks down at you. That means one thing only, that he was going to go full Captain America mode and try and save you.

“Is that what the team meeting is about in the morning?” Natasha asks. “Her situation?”

Tony nods. “Looks like you and Sleepy the dwarf have some things in common.”

- - - -

Everyone left the dining room, but Bucky lingered momentarily.

He stared at that damn plate.

Steve had woken you up and sent you to the MedBay, you made sure things looked perfect before you went.

Now, he reaches out and messes the whole thing up before Wanda - who’s on dish duty because she could clean everything up in two seconds- catches him.

“Buck, hey.” Steve says as he finds his friend heading to his spare room that he stays in when there’s things to do early in the morning.

The two super soldiers walk in silence for a moment before Steve speaks up.

“She scares you, doesn’t she?” He asks.

Bucky lies. “Why would she scare me?”

“Because she’s in the same position you were in.”

Bucky clenches his teeth, cursing his friend’s intuition.

What was he supposed to say? That he wanted to stay far away from you for some unknown reason? That part of him wishes he wasn’t the one to rescue you? Or that he wants to ask you every question he has and try to figure out the way your brain works?

He can’t say any of that.

So he just avoids the statement all together. “Yeah, well you’re gonna tuck her under your wing just because she’s needy, so you shouldn’t be asking me about her, Pal.” He jokes with a smile.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Oh come on, give me a break, alright?”

As they stop in front of Bucky’s room, Sam happens to pass them.

“You gonna get a haircut?” He asks Bucky.

The soldier glares. “Does my hair just offend everyone now?”

File 4

[intersex-questions]

as a perisex person, how could i be the best advocate for intersex people i can be? i want to talk about intersex issues but i dont wanna talk over actual intersex people

I think every intersex person you ask this question to will give you different answers. First, I'd like to direct you to InterACT. They have a lot of good resources and information about being intersex and intersex advocacy.

Reading up on intersex issues especially from intersex perspectives is something that I think is a great thing to do. Keep up on news about us, about laws and legislature being passed about us. If there is intersexist laws/legislature being passed where you live, do what you can to protest it, spread awareness, etc. Likewise, support laws/legislature going into place that support intersex people.

In my opinion, one of the best ways to be an advocate/ally is through the "small" things. If you hear someone saying something intersexist, whether it's intentional or not, speak up and correct them. Inform people about how sex isn't a binary or correct their ideas they have on the sex binary. And I'd like to be clear I am not saying to argue with people. Especially not on the Internet. It's likely to not do very much. If people aren't willing to change or learn, you cannot force them to.

Be there for intersex people! If you know someone is being intersexist to someone (whether or not they're intersex), speak up for them or defend them. If it's a situation where you aren't able to, talk to them after the fact and provide them a safe space. Be someone who intersex people can feel safe coming to about their issues or as someone who is on their side.

And truthfully, I think something a lot of people need to learn to fear less is "speaking over" X group of people--not that it isn't an issue or that it doesn't happen, but a lot of the time, the things people are afraid of doing when it comes to speaking over is actually useful advocacy. "Speaking over" is when voices from people who aren't part of X group are prioritized over those who are. This would be if perisex people were the primary voices and speakers when it comes to talking about someone's intersex experiences. Or correcting or policing someone on what they say their experiences are.

You aren't going to be a perfect ally or advocate. No one is able to do that. What matters is you keep trying, learning, and listening. If people harass you or bully you over your mistakes after you've already learned from them, that isn't right of them. As an ally of any group, you're probably going to experience people from that group who think you're being an ally in the wrong way. For example, I am inclusive when it comes to things like being transgender and intersex. For being transgender, I do not believe you need to have dysphoria to be trans, I support nonbinary identities (even the "weird" ones), etc. But there are groups of trans people who think that in itself is transphobic and that there are correct ways of being trans. I believe being a trans+ ally would mean supporting ALL trans people, regardless of how they are trans, but those people who restrict and exclude who is and isn't allowed to be trans would call allies who support that transphobic. Being an ally is active work. It isn't always going to be easy. And that's okay! Like I said, keep trying.

I apologize if this didn't answer very well, and other intersex people are more than welcome to weigh in on their own thoughts on how to be a good ally/advocate. And I am always welcome to more specific questions!

[bonefall]

i found a god awful doc about this one person (who, too, is a god awful being) trying to reason why mudClaw would be a bad leader. I'ma try to find the doc but meanwhile I'll submit this because someone could have the link, I'll need your honest thought about it bcs why are we defending oneWhiker now

Anon, buddy, I'm gonna have to sit you down and gently discourage you from casually calling random human people "god awful beings" in my inbox like this. Not when you're just talking about relatively basic media analysis. That isn't ok or normal.

I hope that when I speak harshly, it's coming from a place of condemning hurtful actions and the tangible harm that they cause. I don't appreciate people trying to get me to directly beef with other people directly by requesting I break down their individual posts or analysis documents (when I ask for people to share links, it's so I can see and prepare to counter the ideas because they usually "float downstream" if they get popular); but in a second ask, you linked this document and there's nothing harmful in it. In fact, it's got a far more neutral tone than I'd take if I was writing an analysis about Mudclaw.

If you couldn't tell the difference between a document like this and one that contains active abuse apologia rhetoric, I would be filled with concern. But I don't think you read it. I think you maybe skimmed it and stopped reading, or just heard the title.

Because this document literally says this;

and your takeaway, something you felt so strongly about that you came to me hoping I'd validate it, was "Why Are We Defending Onewhisker Now."

Art is a tool we can use to explore our own biases, and teach us something about ourselves. That overwhelming sense of anger and disgust that you probably felt when you saw "Mudclaw Would Be A Bad Leader" made you jump to an emotional conclusion and you assumed something that was not said. I know the feeling. You might have had a reactionary impulse.

You are not a bad person for doing that-- you're human. You can grow.

Why did it upset you this much, though? Is there something very personal about this that set you off? ...are you spending a lot of time in spaces online that keep you angry? These are questions for you to reflect with.

I do not know the owner of this document or "what they've done," if anything, so I will not link it, because their Discord is at the bottom of the doc. If they are truly a "god awful being", please do not engage, just block and move on. Nothing is accomplished by following around 'A Bad Guy' and boosting their cat takes.

But something VERY bad WOULD be accomplished if I indulged an anon for a situation I know nothing about and unwittingly became part of a harassment campaign. How do I know that you've got good intentions?

I usually just delete unsolicited links to docs and videos that are 'fightbaiting' like this-- trying to get me to beef publicly with a 3rd person. But I've seen more of these than usual lately so I would like to try and cool it down.

[pseudophan]

i know i’ve sent you two asks about the phandom racism and i’m certain others have also sent you asks, will you ever address it?

i’ve been thinking about this a lot recently with everything that’s been going on in the phandom, particularly on twitter although racism is by no means a twitter exclusive phenomenon and acting like everyone on tumblr is perfect would be disingenuous. i agree i can and should be doing more, and many years ago when i was less perpetually afraid of saying something wrong i was a lot better at it, but these days i find myself avoiding anything and everything that’s at all uncomfortable because i know i SEVERELY lack the emotional maturity to deal with it if i fuck it up. none of this should be about me but i’m painfully aware that the second i feel attacked in any way, usually doesn’t mean anyone is actually attacking me, i get obnoxiously petulant and suddenly it’s ‘well SORRY that i’m not PERFECT i guess i’ll DIE’. which is fucking stupid and embarrassing and not remotely productive. and then five minutes later i come to my senses and panic cause why did i say that? i know no one is actually attacking me, there is no reason to act like this. but in the moment i don’t have that reflection, and in desperately trying to avoid getting in trouble by saying the wrong thing i think i’ve gone too far the other way by not saying anything at all and now seem like i just don’t give a fuck. how i do or don’t come across is obviously not the issue at hand here, but i know i’ve got somewhat of a platform and it’s a shame i’m not using it the way it could be used, and i really do want to improve that.

the phandom often prides itself on being an inclusive and diverse space, and while that is true on the surface we don’t get to embrace that if we can’t even make sure everyone feels safe here

(please don't take this as my attempt to address the racism, this is all just me really poorly explaining why i haven't, if that makes sense)

[toasteaa]

I don't know what's been going on with me recently but like...there's this tiny shred of guilt that I'm not doing anything really engaging on here anymore? Like, my creative block is fading out (finally), but I haven't drawn or written anything substantial recently and I feel really weird about that. Not just for you all looking at my blog, but also just in a creative bust kind of way.

There are ideas and themes and such that I would love to play with or dabble in, but I keep stopping them because they're either too self indulgent or there's no visual work to go with it. I don't really know how to describe it? Like I feel like I've been lazy creatively speaking recently when I COULD be getting more ideas out, but it's about the same ship all the time and idk, I also feel like I've gotten to the point where I'm talking too much again? Not that anyone here has made me feel like that and I have asks that I need to answer so I KNOW I'm not talking too much but I'm!!!! Being splashed with the self conscious and self critical and imposter syndrome buckets and I need them to stop!!!!

[savage-rhi]

Magenta 😥

[softpine]

can you explain what happened like i'm 5? i may be stupid

noooo you're not, i feel like you're just the only person brave enough to ask fjksjds there's a LOT going on here so i don't mind explaining at all!!

first i'll explain what happened from griffin's point of view on february 3rd, 1982…. he's been saving money up without his parents knowing, because he plans to run away in the next few months. on this day, his mom finds the money and realizes that griffin wants to leave. she becomes inconsolable and tells richard about the money. he thinks griffin stole the money from him (which is ridiculous because we know griffin JUST bailed him out of jail with money richard didn't have; he could've just left him there), and a large argument ensues. his dad hits him, his mom is throwing things around and falling to the floor crying, it's just a huge mess. lucy throws a plate and it shatters on griffin's face. this is the last straw for him. he just can't take it anymore. he grabs the gun they keep in the pantry, knowing his parents always keep it loaded for home security (more on that later). he points it at his dad and warns him to step back, but richard outright laughs at him and keeps approaching him. griffin THINKS he racks the gun, but, being a kid in an insanely stressful situation, he didn't apply enough force to pull it all the way back, meaning there's no round in the chamber, so when he pulls the trigger (and he does actually pull the trigger) the gun does not go off. at that point, richard yanks it out of his hands and threatens to kill him if he ever tries something like that again, but griffin wouldn't have tried again – he was horrified at his own behavior. this is the major turning point in griffin's life and it's one of the biggest factors in causing his death.

(side note, in the universe where we saw griffin as an inmate, that was the incident that first landed him in jail -- in that universe, he pulled the slide just a little more forcefully, and he killed his dad. but he was only 12, and the abuse he suffered was an additional consideration, so he spent most of his time in a psychiatric hospital until he aged out. he committed more crimes later on though.)

(side SIDE note, this is why in the 90s verse griffin was warned to never touch his dad's shotgun again, which he did not listen to, meaning this event still took place for him.)

okay, so now here's what happened from finn's point of view (as in ghost finn, our finn, asa's finn, you know the one): this is one of the worst moments of finn's entire life, and just thinking about it makes him feel furious. anytime he needs to draw strength from his emotions, he revisits this memory to make himself angry. he successfully used this incident to save asa's life many years ago, and it's implied that he did the same thing to get himself out of the nowhere many years before that. so, naturally, when finn got separated from asa, his first idea was to revisit this memory to fuel his anger. only, it didn't work this time. this time, he doesn't feel angry, he feels sad and ashamed because this isn't who he is anymore. he finds himself trapped in an endless loop, forced to watch it happen over and over again. he starts thinking that this is Hell with a capital H, an eternal punishment for what he's done. when he sees asa, he's horrified because he thinks it means asa has died and gone to Hell -- something finn can't even fathom.

okay, now from ASA'S perspective…. we find out that he knew about this incident all along. he heard and saw everything that finn begged him not to. all this time, he's been reassuring finn that he's a good person, deserving of love, that he was just a kid and he's allowed to find happiness, etc. all along, he knew that finn had pulled the trigger intending to kill his father. yet he still believed every word he said. he still believes finn is inherently good. asa would have taken this to the grave if he could; he thought it would only cause finn more pain to know that asa knows.

asa truly believes that this incident is just a memory, so he tries to prove it by attempting to interact with the memory, but he's caught off guard when richard, lucy, and griffin actually see him. they're all so shocked by this supposed home intruder that they fall silent, something finn knows is not normal for this memory, so he gets up to find asa. richard has the gun now because he'd ripped it out of griffin's hands. asa thinks the gun is empty because he knows griffin pulled the trigger and it didn't go off, but finn obviously knows the truth: it would only take a few seconds to fire. he also knows that this is the exact reason his dad bought the gun in the first place, for home defense in the event of a break in (to be fair, this is not that implausible considering the company their family kept at this point) so richard is 100% prepared to use deadly force against asa, who he thinks just broke into his house.

bonus: finn's reaction makes me really sad. we've SEEN the lengths he'll go to to protect asa in the past... but when it comes to his father, he mostly freezes up. he's even physically hiding behind asa :(