#and that no space is sufficient for us to be

[hellishere7980]

Whatever It Takes (CH-7)

Someone rang the doorbell. The whole family Had gathered and were eating an amazing dinner courtesy of Alfred. Alfred, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Bruce, Selina and Talia were there to celebrate the newly turned 9 year old boy's birthday.

Someone rang the doorbell. Everyone was on high alert as Alfred walked out of the kitchen to answer the door and everyone else followed.

On the other side of the door stood Mariam.

“Ukhti!” Damian exclaimed as he rushed past Alfred and hugged her.

“Mariam?” Talia said, stepping forward. “But you–”

Damian moved aside and Talia speed-walked past him and grabbed her daughter in a hug. “I thought I lost you.” She whispered in Mariam’s ear. 

“Mother, you can't be free of me that easily.” Mariam replied, smiling.

“I believe we have a cake to cut, don't we? Let us take this inside, shall we?” Alfred said and they all trooped back into the dining room.

“Where have you been?” Dick asked.

“Somewhere safe.” Mariam replied. “Oh! Least I forget it.” She said, sliding a beautifully packaged box towards Damian. “Happy birthday, Damian.”

Damian slowly under the ribbon on the gift box and opened it to find a sketchbook and a set of pencil colors. He looked up questioningly at Mariam.

“You know, I'm traveling around, trying new stuff.” Mariam began. “I found out I really liked drawing. So I thought you would like it too. I mean, it's practical. It takes up little to no space. It comes easily to us. And it's basically like drawing the layout of a building, but with more details and smaller objects–”

“And more pretty” Selina added.

“It's fun, trust me.”

“Mm-hmm.” Damian said, inspecting the pencil colors. “They are of admirable quality.” 

“Well, of course they are.” Mariam replied. “I’m the one who picked them.”

“How exactly did you pick them?” Bruce said.

“What do you mean, Father?” Mariam asked, although her eyes were still fixed on Damian's joyous expression.

“I mean That Talia didn't give you any money.” Bruce continued.

“How would you know that?” Mariam asked.

“Because I told them, daughter.” Talia said.

“Well, can't argue with that.” Mariam said. “But you know, getting money isn't exactly hard. And I have sufficient training to get a job, you know. I mean, I've seen people less qualified than me earning nicely.”

“Well, I agree.” Damian said. He had set aside his gift along with his other gifts. “League education is nothing to be laughed at.”

“Yeah, but still, you shouldn't have to do this.” Talia said with a mocking smile. “Isn't that right, daughter?”

“Ha, ha, ha.” Mariam gave a light laugh. “Walked right into that one, I did. But it's fun. Genuinely, it's a lot of fun.”

The rest of the conversation ended in favor of Damian's celebration. Or “Successful completion of nine years of existence.” In Tim’s opinion.

Afterwards, they all left for patrol. Mariam was wearing a basic outfit of Batgirl's costume with Nightwing as her buddy.

After the patrol winded up, they all met at the rendezvous point on top of the Wayne Enterprises building. All happily looking down at the smoke filled the city with blinking lights clearing up at them. 

“Mariam?” Talia said, turning towards her. “Why do you insist on this?”

She turned away from the look and looked deep into her mother's eyes. “Insist on what, mother?”

“Insisting on living on your own when there are two houses perfectly capable of taking you in. You don't need to stay with me, You can stay here with your father if you want.”

“Is it wrong to insist on it if I have a perfectly valid reason?” Mariam asked.

“What is this perfectly valid reason ukhti?” Damian asked her. “What is this reason that justifies you staying away from us?”

“Simple.” Mariam said, moving towards the edge of the building. Everyone saw it and their muscles tensed. “I knew Grandfather was gonna die before he died.”

“What?” Bruce growled.

“I'm the one who killed him. I-I” Her breath hitched. “He was coming after you, Mother.”

“What are you talking about?” Talia asked. “You mean to say that your grandfather was coming after me?”

“He intended to.” Mariam replied.

“You could have talked to me about it.” Talia said, throwing up her hands in frustration, her voice reflecting her anger.

“I'm sorry mother, but it would not have yielded any results.” Mariam said, looking deep into her eyes. “All this while you couldn't see what was happening. Actually, you could see, but you refused to understand it. Grandfather, he was sending you into dangerous missions, treating you so horribly. He would have had you married to somebody in the League But was simply scared that his son-in-law could be a potential threat. A potential heir to the throne. You give up on so many of your dreams. Just do not anger him. And for what?” She scoffed. “Only for you to be thrown away once you have trained your replacement? Once you had trained me? Couldn't you see that, mother?”

Talia stood speechless. 

Mariam continued. “I couldn't let him take you, Mother. I regret what I had to do, but I will not apologize for it.” She took a small step back and stumbled on the edge. “But I apologize to you all.” She said in a whispered voice that carried through the silent night despite the traffic below. With that, she turned around and dropped from the building. 

All those on the roof rushed near her in a desperate attempt to grapple her to safety. She hadn't taken her grapple. But they saw no sign of her.

They all stumbled back near the center of the building. Everyone still reeling in shock. They were shaken out of their thoughts when Oracle’s voice chimed in in the comms. “She just dropped by with the uniform and left.”

“Team head back to the Cave.” Batman said and hence, the night ended.

Mariam's second visit came a day after Bruce's birthday. 

They all had come back from patrol and were winding up for the night, when they heard light footsteps. All except Damian drew their weapons and stood ready.

They all waited breathlessly as they saw the shadow of a human coming closer.

“Mariam!” Damian exclaimed.

As she came into proper view, she gave all of them a meek smile. “Happy belated birthday, father.” She said as she stopped walking.

“Mariam?” Bruce asked not believing himself and how could he? After they had made her run away?

“In flesh.” Mariam said, giving a light chuckle.

“Why have you come now?” Damian said, cutting into the conversation. “Why didn't you come yesterday when it was actually Father's birthday?”

Mariam's fingers lightly fidgeted with the ribbon on the gift before answering. “I didn't want to ruin his birthday like I ruined yours.”

“Mariam,” Bruce said. “Never think that you would ruin my birthday. You are always welcome here.”

They all moved upstairs for a nice cup of tea before bed. 

“How long are you gonna be staying here?” Tim asked as he happily munched on some chips which Alfred had provided.

“Just a couple of hours. I'll be meeting with Mother afterwards.” Mariam replied.

“Mariam?” Bruce said.

“Yes, Father?”

“There's something I need to discuss with you.”

“Sure.”

“Let's go to my study.”

As they both got up, Damian blurted out, “I wish to go to visit Mother too.”

Bruce said, “It's fine by me. Will you be able to take him with you, Mariam?”

“Yeah.” She replied.

“Yeah?” Dick asked. “Since when did you start saying yeah?”

“I've been traveling. It's fun to see so many people. I picked up some words.” Mariam said before following Bruce out of the dining room.

Later, when they were in his study, he motioned her to sit down and he sat down opposite her. “Mariam, your mother and I have been talking.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that you're not staying with any of us. If there's a reason then please let us know.”

“I–” She said before taking a deep breath in and continuing. “I just want to see what a normal life feels like.”

“If you want a normal life, you can find it here.”

“I don't think I can. Believe it or not, Father, life as a billionaire's daughter does not qualify as normal.”

“There is also another reason. Isn't it?”

Mariam drew a deep breath in. “Promise me you won't tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.” Bruce replied, slightly leaning forward, trying to give an encouraging nod.

“Ra’s Al-Ghul was my grandfather. E-even though he treated me and mother horribly, there was still a sense of respect I had for him. Was it because it was ingrained in me or simply a respect for his skills? I can't seem to define it. But what I do know is, deep down, I did consider him f-family. I did consider him my blood. And–” She again drew a sharp breath in. “I can't seem to get rid of the guilt. I cannot wake up every morning and see his eyes in Mother’s and Damian’s. I-I didn't mean to kill him, but he was hurting the people I loved. Even heard from some of his trusted advisors that he was considering-g” 

“Considering replacing mother with you?” Bruce prompted.

“Yes, he was considering replacing mother with me. I couldn't risk that.”

“It's alright.” Bruce said, gently patting her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “Everything will be fine.”

Wish I could believe that. Mariam thought but didn't say it out loud. Some secrets are better left unsaid.

[dailyanarchistposts]

You’re so paranoid, you probably think this section is about you[166]

Lack-finding, perfectionism, schooling, walking

What follows is a third story about the origins of rigid radicalism, guided by these questions: What makes it possible, or even predictable, for radical spaces and movements to be perceived in terms of their shortcomings? What encourages the suspicion and incessant critique that runs through so many radical milieus? Is there something that makes critique a reflex and a habit, and forces out other possibilities?

One example is learning to walk: when little kids take their first steps, people around them cheer, rejoice, and celebrate. We take photos, tell friends, and record these moments because we want to share the joy in witnessing the emergence of a new increase in capacity: this kid is learning to walk! But if we take a perfectionist perspective, then why celebrate? The kid won’t usually walk for very long; they stumble and fall, and they certainly can’t run. But no one says “Why are you celebrating? They’re not really walking yet!”

If the kid learning to walk is just another kid walking, it’s no longer something worth celebrating. Those who celebrate it are naïve, or getting a bit carried away: kids are learning to walk all the time. But in the moment, it doesn’t seem naïve, because we are part of the process of witnessing this kid walk, in this way, for the very first time.

We bring up this example because it seems obvious that it is nonsensical to impose external ideals of walking on little kids who are just learning, or to approach the situation with a detached and suspicious stance. It seems obvious (we hope) that a toddler’s increase in capacity—those first steps that mark the emergence of something new—is sufficient in itself. It is a joyful moment, worth celebrating, not because it’s part of some linear process of development, but because it’s an emergent power for that kid, palpable to all present in those moments.

With this in mind, why is it so difficult, sometimes, to celebrate small victories or humble increases in collective power and capacity? What makes it so easy to dismiss transformation as too limited? What makes it so easy to find joy lacking? We see variants of this dynamic happen a lot: someone celebrates something joyful, while others offer up reminders of its insufficiency. We find ourselves doing the same thing, sometimes. What allows for the constant imposition of external norms, criteria, and ideals for evaluation?

Surely it comes from many different places, but we think part of it can be traced to the ways schooling crushes openness to new encounters. Most of us have been exposed to at least some of this for big chunks of our lives: schooling replaces curiosity with instruction, memorization, and hierarchical evaluation. We are encouraged to internalize the notion that our worth is connected to our grades, that we are locked in competition with our classmates, and that we are like empty vessels awaiting knowledge.

Not long after children learn to walk, they are often stuck in schools and subjected to constant monitoring, control, and evaluation. In school, new capacities can only be affirmed when they conform to the criteria set out by the institution; that is, when a student has learned a particular thing, at the right time, in the right way. Curiosity and the discovery of emergent connections need to be crushed in order to create this conformity, and those who refuse or resist are quickly labeled “problem” children, in need of remedial education, medication, therapy, or punishment.

Those who make it through learn to internalize incessant evaluation by externally imposed standards. By reducing lives to these external standards, schooling crushes the capacity for joy. Adults, parents, and other caregivers are tasked with continuing this process outside of school, teaching children to categorize and measure everything, including themselves. There is always someone further along, who has done it better and more proficiently. Evaluation works by removing the immediacy of life where we can sense the unfurling of newness and potential and learn by exploring the world, following our curiosities.

[killbenedictcumberbatchagain]

patriarchy and biphobia really go hand in hand

[thestudentfarmer]

Hello everyone,

A bit of a garden, chicken and otherwise update:)

First up! Garden stuff update :).

Our first cucumber! This pic is a few days old, so it's just about ready to pick now and I've spotted 2 more coming in too :)

First patty pan squash :D with luck this years the year we are able to actually eat a few squash from the plants before the squash beatles arrive! :D

Sweet potato starts in the ground. I may need to put a bit of a shade cover and will be planting at least one more tuber to kick start the greens.

These very pretty wasps (who I believe is a yellow paper wasp if internet search has led me well.) Arrived. Very beautiful, but unfortunatly like the yellow bellied assassin's I will need to keep an eye out for them and potential nesting habits. For the safety and comfort of human neighbours and self, rather than protecting the rare native Bees we see. Thankfully It looks like this one was just hanging out for a few minutes.

Three more assassin's were spotted and swatted over the last few days. Morning has been the best time to look for them so far as I can see or tell.

My funny shade/seed/chicken bed. It looks a bit rough but the goal for this area is mostly to fill the empty space with something that is

1) edible to us or the chickens.

2) managing some sort of eco aspect of our space (shade, water retention, soil cover, beautification)

3) medicinal in some way ( soapmaking or makeup)

4) is fairly leave it alone/set it and forget it.

I'll need to reseed some new stuff soon though as the kale and chard are just about done I think.

Some of the tossed out sunflowers by the watermelon patch.

The melon patch I started (that the chcikens dug up entirely 😭 ) is being fully dug out right now to make a better grow space long term. Given that it's hot out (already 100*f regulalry) and daily life business, I've been working on it as the sun's been going down. It's taking a bit, but a bit at a time makes the work pass by. The dirt being dug out is being used to fill in chicken potholes for the yard and coop. When it's fully dug out I'll be making a similar growbed box like I did for the sweet potatos. Most likely also with a short shade cover.

And last, a chick pic update :) these ones have been much hardier than the last batch so far and a lot less skittish. They got their first hand feeding of crickets and mealworms, plus some peices of apple.

That's it for today

🌱🌻Happy Homesteading and Gardening 🌻🌱

[l-e-g-i-o-n-losh]

The disney otome/vn games are a little mystifying to me but you know what kudos for jumping on the concept/genre. give me My Friends From TV.

[doolallymagpie]

ah, fuck off with that “Lotara fuses to the Conqueror” shit

[psalmsofpsychosis]

entering next level bitchass mode by asking gay media to not show teen kisses and teen sex, but finesse in portraying hunger and desire. If your depiction of romance is not clever and intricate and delicate i have no use for it <3 i'm here for the art of storytelling, not the raw materials, those bits anyone can get. @ fellas reinvent and recreate your portrayals of romance or get the fuck out of here

[this-is-a-url]

Hiker pokemon team, but it's based entirely on how realistically useful I think each pokemon would be

[vantaitv1980]

[genderqueer-karma]

ugh

also. did not know this site had a tag limit.

[metanarrates]

I haven't seen a lot of coverage in the news about this, but my state has just advanced legislation on a bill that would criminalize trans bathroom use in publicly owned buildings. this could mean up to 6 months in jail and up to $1000 in fees for those convicted.

most alarming aspects of this bill:

-"publicly owned buildings" include airports, schools, libraries, government offices, some hospitals, and most terrifyingly AND explicitly within the bill, domestic violence shelters and rape crisis facilities. transgender people, who are estimated to be almost 4 times more likely to be victims of violent crimes than cisgender people, could become criminalized in the very spaces they seek out to shelter from abuse.

-on that note, the bill potentially threatens federal funding of already-underfunded domestic violence and sexual assault facilities. to recieve federal grants, facilities are required to follow nondiscrimination laws. this law could place the facilities in danger of losing the grants they rely on. this is severely going to impact victims' abilities to access critically needed services.

-the bill legally defines "sex" in a way that has a lot of potential impact across state legislature. according to the bill’s text, HB 257 would legally define a female as “an individual whose biological reproductive system is of the general type that functions in a way that could produce ova,” and a male as “an individual whose biological reproductive system is of the general type that functions to fertilize the ova of a female.” this could effectively end the state's legal recognition of trans people.

-the bill demands that trans people who DO use bathrooms in publicly owned buildings must have undergone both gender reassignment surgery and have had their birth certificate changed. this has several issues, obviously, but the biggest one I want to highlight is that this opens the door to potential genital inspection by law enforcement if someone is accused of being transgender in a bathroom. in addition to any other indignities suffered by being harassed by cops when trying to use the restroom, it is completely possible for law enforcement to now demand to see whether someone's genitals are in compliance with these laws. it's an unconscionable and humiliating invasion of privacy.

-the bill requires trans students to develop a "privacy plan" with their school in order to arrange access to unisex spaces. if unisex bathrooms are unavailable, the student can be granted access to a sex-designated space “through staggered scheduling or another policy provision that provides for temporary private access.”

-the bill allows the state’s attorney general to impose a fine of up to $10,000 per day on local governments that don’t enforce the bill. in essence, any government that isn't sufficiently committed to enforcing these draconian laws may face massive fines until they have reached the attorney general's standard of enforcement.

this is one of the most unbelievably severe anti-trans laws that have ever been proposed in the united states. it would effectively ban trans people from participating in public life, harm nearly every single victim of domestic violence and sexual assault who seeks services in the state, enforce criminality on random trans people in bathrooms, and open every single person who could be potentially accused of being trans up to a wave of harassment and discrimination from both private citizens and law enforcement. I'm not being hyperbolic when I say that this law would literally force me and my transfemme fiancee to flee this state.

the law's been fast tracked to an insane degree through the legislature. similarly to the anti-dei bill currently making its way through, it's only been a week since it was introduced, and it's already passed the house, and is now up for vote in the senate. if it passes both sets of votes, the only thing left in its way is the governor's decision to veto.

please share this post. make as much noise as you can. if you live in utah, please call and email your district senator as soon as possible. it doesn't matter how late you see this. the bill is up for vote this week (1/23/24 at the time of writing) and we need to do whatever we physically can to protest its passing. we've already moved past the opportunity for public comment on the bill, but a few organizations have called for a rally at the capitol steps on thursday (1/25/24) at noon. if you are in the salt lake area or are able to make it there, please consider attending. wear a mask and bring a sign. we are stronger together.

[fleshybeing]

oh shit i might start spewing out some philosophy bullshit at some point in a bit this hasn’t happened for years

[samwisethewitch]

Homemaking, gardening, and self-sufficiency resources that won't radicalize you into a hate group

It seems like self-sufficiency and homemaking skills are blowing up right now. With the COVID-19 pandemic and the current economic crisis, a lot of folks, especially young people, are looking to develop skills that will help them be a little bit less dependent on our consumerist economy. And I think that's generally a good thing. I think more of us should know how to cook a meal from scratch, grow our own vegetables, and mend our own clothes. Those are good skills to have.

Unfortunately, these "self-sufficiency" skills are often used as a recruiting tactic by white supremacists, TERFs, and other hate groups. They become a way to reconnect to or relive the "good old days," a romanticized (false) past before modern society and civil rights. And for a lot of people, these skills are inseparably connected to their politics and may even be used as a tool to indoctrinate new people.

In the spirit of building safe communities, here's a complete list of the safe resources I've found for learning homemaking, gardening, and related skills. Safe for me means queer- and trans-friendly, inclusive of different races and cultures, does not contain Christian preaching, and does not contain white supremacist or TERF dog whistles.

Homemaking/Housekeeping/Caring for your home:

Making It by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen [book] (The big crunchy household DIY book; includes every level of self-sufficiency from making your own toothpaste and laundry soap to setting up raised beds to butchering a chicken. Authors are explicitly left-leaning.)

Safe and Sound: A Renter-Friendly Guide to Home Repair by Mercury Stardust [book] (A guide to simple home repair tasks, written with rentals in mind; very compassionate and accessible language.)

How To Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis [book] (The book about cleaning and housework for people who get overwhelmed by cleaning and housework, based on the premise that messiness is not a moral failing; disability and neurodivergence friendly; genuinely changed how I approach cleaning tasks.)

Gardening

Rebel Gardening by Alessandro Vitale [book] (Really great introduction to urban gardening; explicitly discusses renter-friendly garden designs in small spaces; lots of DIY solutions using recycled materials; note that the author lives in England, so check if plants are invasive in your area before putting them in the ground.)

Country/Rural Living:

Woodsqueer by Gretchen Legler [book] (Memoir of a lesbian who lives and works on a rural farm in Maine with her wife; does a good job of showing what it's like to be queer in a rural space; CW for mentions of domestic violence, infidelity/cheating, and internalized homophobia)

"Debunking the Off-Grid Fantasy" by Maggie Mae Fish [video essay] (Deconstructs the off-grid lifestyle and the myth of self-reliance)

Sewing/Mending:

Annika Victoria [YouTube channel] (No longer active, but their videos are still a great resource for anyone learning to sew; check out the beginner project playlist to start. This is where I learned a lot of what I know about sewing.)

Make, Sew, and Mend by Bernadette Banner [book] (A very thorough written introduction to hand-sewing, written by a clothing historian; lots of fun garment history facts; explicitly inclusive of BIPOC, queer, and trans sewists.)

Sustainability/Land Stewardship

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer [book] (Most of you have probably already read this one or had it recommended to you, but it really is that good; excellent example of how traditional animist beliefs -- in this case, indigenous American beliefs -- can exist in healthy symbiosis with science; more philosophy than how-to, but a great foundational resource.)

Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer [book] (This one is for my fellow witches; one of my favorite witchcraft books, and an excellent example of a place-based practice deeply rooted in the land.)

Avoiding the "Crunchy to Alt Right Pipeline"

Note: the "crunchy to alt-right pipeline" is a term used to describe how white supremacists and other far right groups use "crunchy" spaces (i.e., spaces dedicated to farming, homemaking, alternative medicine, simple living/slow living, etc.) to recruit and indoctrinate people into their movements. Knowing how this recruitment works can help you recognize it when you do encounter it and avoid being influenced by it.

"The Crunchy-to-Alt-Right Pipeline" by Kathleen Belew [magazine article] (Good, short introduction to this issue and its history.)

Sisters in Hate by Seyward Darby (I feel like I need to give a content warning: this book contains explicit descriptions of racism, white supremacy, and Neo Nazis, and it's a very difficult read, but it really is a great, in-depth breakdown of the role women play in the alt-right; also explicitly addresses the crunchy to alt-right pipeline.)

These are just the resources I've personally found helpful, so if anyone else has any they want to add, please, please do!

[gimmethatagustd]

morals on sundays | myg

You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.

○ Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff

○ 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)

○ Word Count: 2,177

○ Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots

○ Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight 😌 And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't

○ Post Date: January 22, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK

Lately, you’ve felt like disappearing – not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongi’s hoodie. You’re already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder. 

“Fuck, I hate taking the bus,” he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air. 

“How much time do we have?” 

Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear. 

“You’re mumbling. What’d you say?”

“How much time until it comes?” You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. It’s too warm here to want to move. 

“Can’t check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.” 

“No.” 

Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders. 

“I thought our date would cheer you up.” His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi. 

“I’m gonna die alone. Doesn’t matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,” you grumble into Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“Even when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene that’s poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?” 

“Nope.”

“Even when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?” Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head. 

Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasn’t that bad. The pizza was actually great. You’re just depressed. 

“I didn’t think it would take this long…” You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongi’s. He knows you aren’t talking about the bus. 

Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you. 

“You were too good for him.” 

Yoongi’s right. He’s always right. 

You’re sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because he’s trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment. 

Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature. 

Maybe it’s because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriend’s, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was. 

In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. It’s likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort. 

As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish. 

“Remember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?” Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one. 

“Yes.” 

“He was Squidward. I’m just mad I didn’t get to blow up his house–” Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, “–with bubbles! With bubbles. I’m not homicidal.” 

Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongi’s, both drinks too hot to drink quickly. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you don’t want him to see your tears if they run. “I’m sorry I’ve been in such a shitty mood. I know it’s been a while, but, it just… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurts…” 

Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. They’re so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongi’s hot chocolate. 

“Maybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?” Yoongi offers quietly. “Can’t imagine it’s easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.” 

You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right. 

“Easier said than done…” you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. There’s something there in his expression, something that seems different. 

You don’t move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like you’re going to swallow your heart. 

“I could take them off for you,” Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. “If you can’t do it, I can.” 

“Yeah?” You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongi’s fingers brush against it. 

“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. “So you can get over him.” 

It’s a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongi’s fingers do beneath your clothes. 

“I want to.” The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare into Yoongi’s eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. “God, Yoongi, I want to.” 

Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because he’s too close and you’re too much of a coward. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin. 

You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. He’s confident when he squeezes your tits, doesn’t even seem caught off guard when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours. 

“Yoongi,” you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“Hmm?” Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants. 

“Oh,” you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongi’s firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric. 

“These are his, too, right?” 

“Y-yes,” you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them. 

You can’t say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; it’s hard to ignore. It’s just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you don’t know if you’d be able to survive losing him, too. You love him. 

But you also love your ex. 

It’s hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongi’s fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. They’re long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when you’re lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water. 

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until you’ve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because it’s too good. 

Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you can’t control where it goes. 

“Fuck, right there.” You’re burning up, veins turned to lava that’s rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re on the verge of tears because you haven’t been touched in so long and you’re so lonely and you weren’t good enough. You weren’t enough. 

“Wanna make you cum,” Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples. 

“Please,” you moan, “Please, I’m so close.” 

Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is. 

Yoongi’s lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper. 

“Not yet, though.” 

“Wha– Yoongi, no–” It’s embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until you’re left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs. 

“Shhh, you know I always take care of you.” Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. “Lean back.” 

The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it can’t keep up with the heat of Yoongi’s mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. “Use your, use–” 

Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo he’s fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you don’t buck into his face or curl inward. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm. 

It’s messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. It’s working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs. 

Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like you’re his favorite meal. 

You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongi’s hair to keep his face in your pussy.

He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you can’t lie still any longer. 

“Yoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, it’s too much,” you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you. 

Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips. 

“Shit,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it. 

You think you taste better on Yoongi’s tongue than on your ex’s. 

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 

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[lexyeevee]

it's wild to see myhouse having escaped the orbit of Doom People, because so much of it specifically riffs on doom in a way that is laser-targeted at Doom People, to the point that i just wouldn't have expected it to be nearly as interesting if you don't pick up on that stuff

right from the outset, "my house" is even a recognizable genre, because doom was among the first approachable platforms for creating a 3D space, and if you give random people the ability to create a 3D space then many of them will just try to recreate their own house. (i want to say jp lebreton even made an effort to play through every house map on the idgames archive at one point, though hell if i can find it now.) there was in fact already a "myhouse.wad", from 1995!

frankly it's incredible that someone (or someones) put so much effort into this map and then had the gall to simply post it on doomworld as "myhouse.wad", because that is a thread title that guarantees the fewest possible people will bother to look. there are posts in the thread where people outright admit that they only checked because they were surprised how many replies a "my house" wad got.

so anyway, okay, the "classic" doom wad experience is that you download a wad, it contains exactly 1 map, and it has zero custom textures or music or other frills. most wads from the 90s are like this; if you're lucky you might get a bad midi rendition of a metallica song. nowadays there are texture artists and musicians and everything collaborating on full map packs, but "just a map" is still kind of the default mapping experience and is recognizable to anyone who's been around doom for sufficiently long.

and myhouse riffs on absolutely every aspect of this:

• the music is the MAP01 music, Running From Evil, which is just the music you get if you supply your own map in the MAP01 slot and do nothing else. so a ton of 90s maps had this same track as their background music, so everyone has heard it a zillion times. it is ingrained into so many people's skulls. subtly fucking with it is a great way to fuck with the player

• the house uses only stock doom 2 textures, or occasionally light modifications of them. again this is just what you get if you make a map and don't supply any other resources, so the stock textures are very familiar. only later, with sufficient poking around, does the map introduce new textures, which really help sell the impression of being swept away to Somewhere Else

• if you take the exit, you go to MAP02, Underhalls. this is the expected experience because doom wads replace what's already there — you're not really supplying a "new map pack" or anything, you're overwriting a map from the original doom 2 progression. (there are ways to fiddle with this now, but in vanilla doom 2, the level progression was hardcoded.) so the "ending" of a no-frills single-map wad is always, always to transition to Underhalls. the opening shot of Underhalls is practically like seeing the credits. so roping Underhalls into the experience is completely unexpected, because Underhalls is the sign that you've escaped back to regular doom

• the super shotgun is "hidden" in Underhalls, in probably the best-known super shotgun location in the whole game, because it's the first time you can get it

• incidentally Underhalls itself feels uncanny, because the player camera height is higher than usual to make the house's proportions feel sensible. (part of the trouble with exact recreations of real spaces in doom is that the camera is weirdly low.) i was actually convinced that myhouse included a modified Underhalls, but no, it's stock doom 2 Underhalls, it just feels off when you're slightly taller

but wait, there's more

• silent teleporters are a feature from boom, a very early doom derivative that added a number of helpful mapping features and is basically considered only half a step beyond vanilla. so shifting between two versions of a space without interruption isn't completely unexpected. it's only later that the portal use becomes more obvious

• although if you're especially canny, you should notice that the second version of the house shows both the upstairs and downstairs windows in full, which is impossible — doom cannot do room-over-room. (in fact this is accomplished with a semi-obscure zdoom feature called sector portals — essentially, the whole second floor and the space outside it are a separate area, and the "ceiling" of the yard becomes a view up through the "floor" of that second space.)

• swinging doors are a hexen feature (polyobjects) that gzdoom inherited. (heretic and hexen were modifications of the doom engine, and zdoom started out as a merge of all three codebases into something that could play all three games.) they might also be in other fancy engines (eternity?), but they are very distinctly not a doom thing. if you're deeply familiar with doom's limitations then they'll jump out at you immediately, but if you're looking at doom like it's any old 3D game then maybe not so much

• recreations of other humble real-world locales are also a somewhat common theme, and remind me in particular of Doom City, from way back in 1995

• a very common desire for players is to "uv-max" a map, i.e. reach the exit on ultra-violence with 100% kills and secrets. if you can't do this, the map is (reasonably) considered broken. it is comically impossible to do this in myhouse, and anyone with the skill to create the map would be acutely aware of this

• the extra weapon frames look to be borrowed from the well-known smooth doom, which adds extra frames for everything and is just pretty dang slick overall. so it's not merely "ho ho, got you, smoother weapons" but specific integration of another familiar project

• this might be reaching a bit, but mirrors are specifically a nightmare in zdoom's software renderer because they work by rendering all visible geometry as if it were physically present on the other side of the mirror — and if there be any actual geometry back there, it will also get rendered and you will have a big fucking mess. so a mirror in the middle of a room is a laughable idea. this is somewhat less of a concern now that the hardware renderer is basically the default, but it's still a spectre looming over the very concept of mirrors, so the way mirrors play out in myhouse is very funny to me

there's probably more, like, the way it intercepts noclip is a stroke of genius and not something i've ever seen done before. but i hope you get the idea

[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. RYŌMEN SUKUNA┊ "Not on my legs." He clarifies. "On my stomach." You ignore the flutter that lands on your belly and force yourself to concentrate on keeping your legs steady.

𖤐 about. being taken away from your village, you have to try to live and survive on your own with the king of curses.

𖤐 cw. mdni. true form sukuna x afab!reader, dubcon (since the reader is forced to be a servant), you ride the mouth on his tummy, choking kink, sadistic sukuna if you squint, dirty talk, overstim, oral ( m -> f ), set in the heian era. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Sukuna is not familiar with giving up power, though it is not surprising, after all a man who has achieved so much power to the point of being revered as a god would not expect anything different. He is not used to being commanded, though not many have tried it and lived to tell the tale anyway, yet when you told him you wanted to do it tonight, without his help (you trying to prepare yourself, stretching yourself before taking it), fiery flames charged with lust and pride covered his devilish eyes, turning them a darker red than you are used to.

Drunk with control, Sukuna is always the one who dictates when and how things happen, ordering around those who serve him, as his word is the word of a king. He doesn't remember the last time someone addressed him with such arrogance and pride in their mouth, he should punish you for speaking before he allows you to but tonight he is feeling benevolent.

"Come here." His husky voice gave off hunger and poured over your limbs like honey. The purr in his timbre brought life to your muscles which tensed and contracted with anticipation.

You rose from the floor where you lay on your stomach with your forehead pressed to the ground in submission, and walked silently to where he is. His chambers are covered by a veil of absolute silence that is interrupted from time to time by barely audible vibrations coming from sukuna who lets them out every time he exhales through his nose, something very similar to the purring of a beast.

Filled with insecurity, you get ready to climb into his lap when you are close enough and it is only at that moment when he speaks again, freezing you on the spot.

"Not on my legs." He clarifies. "On my stomach." You ignore the flutter that lands on your belly and force yourself to concentrate on keeping your legs steady.

You take a long look at his figure and end up on his stomach, where you were ordered to sit. To describe sukuna as big is an adjective that would be too small for him, the houses in your village are big, the horses are big, sukuna… was huge. A monster, was what they called it in your village and even that word might not be enough to describe the creature that stood before you.

His four arms are a wonder to behold face to face, especially up close. Two hold him on his elbows gracefully, semi reclining on the futon where he expands his body further to give you the space you need to climb to his belly; while the other two…there is one holding his jaw and another resting above his hips.

Just like his arms, he possessed four pairs of eyes that don't let a single detail escape; all of these were set on you, you could feel them moving on you, there was no way to escape from him.

And finally, in his belly there was a mouth capable of tearing off the lower half of your body with one bite if he set his mind to it.

For how exposed he was, vulnerable even (bare belly and exposed chest, his arms in a resting position), sukuna was very relaxed and which makes you wonder if perhaps he doesn't think you brave or foolish enough to try to attack him, although it's not the right time or place, you couldn't do much if you were to hurt him sufficiently to try to escape, not with his subjects scattered all over the temple at least. Before you could get to the door his servants would have you imprisoned in one of the cold, dark rooms you've already been in.

Clearly impatient, thanks to being too occupied by your mental wanderings, the hand that lay on his hips gently pushes you into the position he ordered you to. You take a quick glance at your new seat, you find yourself just above the curved line of a smile on his lower abdomen. You look up to observe him, rather than relaxed he is now uneasy, concern is marked on your face as you recheck the mouth on his stomach closed in a tight line.

The posture is awkward thanks to the width of his body, your thighs are stretched to the max and your feet dangle from his body like an uncomfortable horse ride.

The imposing mouth suddenly opens suddenly revealing a thick and grotesque tongue and gives you a quick lick immediately wetting your crotch, the moan of surprise that escapes you makes the pair of cocks tremble under the piece of cloth that holds them captive.

Sukuna licks you again slower this time, taking his time to savor your taste. A murmur of approval makes the mouth on your stomach vibrate along with the purring that seems to increase and you hear clearly now that you are close to him. Then you realize it wasn't some noise he was making or your imagination, it was the natural purr coming from a predator and the contrast terrifies you since it sounds as soft as a lullaby.

"Give me more of that sweet taste." You clench. Your eyes, your thighs, your cunt.

The intruding tongue seems to be all over your slit at the same time, it's feather soft yet has just enough pressure to have you sobbing and dripping from how accurate its lashes are.

Soon you feel unsteady, dizzy, you try to grab hold of something firm but there is one of his hands imprisoning your wrists in your lower back and another firmly squeezes your neck making you unable to escape. "You're not going anywhere, little one," sukuna growls.

The soft muscle, coated with an excess of saliva completely covers your pussy in sweet ecstasy, you feel its edges even wet your trembling thighs, the sensation is crushing. Your whole body is charged with a strange static after the intruder moves imitating a wave, attacking your aching clit, squeezing your pussy lips and spilling your arousal into the monstrous mouth that licks and licks and then swallows.

"I want you to ride it." Four fingers pinch your nipples at the same time. "Ride my tongue, you said you wanted to get ready but I do not see you doing anything but being lazy on me," he reminds you, in that teasing tone that could make you cum right then and there.

It's too much. You want to let him know, your cheeks are about to boil and you don't know how much you can hold back the tears. The sensation of pleasure was overwhelming, the line between pleasure and too much of it causing pain was very thin. You wanted to run away, to ask him that you needed to rest at least for a moment but you know what that could cause.

"I do not want to repeat it, woman."

You don't seek to anger him because his punishments are far worse, so you find the last shred of willpower in you and rotate your hips in weak circles along with a broken gasp. He grunts in response.

You're close. Very, very close. The grip on your wrists increases and you slurp through your nose. You rub it desperately up and down, grinding your sensitive clit in the process, you do small bounces on the fully hanging tongue that reveal sticky clicks that expose how wet you are, your own juices mixed with his saliva spilling down the length of your legs and soaking his hips.

"Cum for me." He commands firmly, manifesting small mouths on his hands that are tasked with torturing your tits, sucking and biting your nipples mercilessly as he delights in watching you squirm under his touch.

"Sukuna!" His name feels sweet on the roof of your mouth and rumbles between the walls of his chamber as your movements descend to gradually fade away.

Then you hear a chuckle, the mouth you just rode, a grotesque cackle that bristles your skin and makes you moan at how sensitive you are as it gives you one last lick and then disappears completely into the cavity, showing you just as it did at first a tight line that could pass as a scar if you weren't paying attention.

Abruptly, his fingers dig into your cheekbones, sinking your cheeks so that your lips can pout adorably. His purr is much louder and harder now.

"If you want to make your king proud you will have to do more than that." Your eyes snap open. "You're ready to take my cocks at the same time, I promise I'm going to use that body of yours tonight until you pass out."

This is a repost! <3