#computer classwork

[sera-fable]

Made this on Canva for my computer class describing the four basic computer functions.

[angleofmusings]

HELLO JEWISH PEOPLE. what shoes do you wear on yom kippur. pick the option that’s closest and feel free to elaborate in the tags!

also feel free to share if you go to shul on yom kippur and what your observance looks like!

[cfrog]

Mixed emotions about puter....

Originals

[codecicle-archive]

C!SLIME WITH C!QUACKITY FROM THE BBHSMP (formally known as the dsmp) IN THE CASINO!!! or something it's totally fine to do whatever

Sotd guys

here are your doodles i forgot about the casino i just saw c!dapduo in the same sentence and passed out o(-(

[cinnabeat]

the things thats so fucked up is that ive been so busy ive forgetten the days where the mangas i usually read update or i remember the date but dont have the time to read it and forget abt it anyways....im consistently late on things....i couldnt even tell you what day mairuma gets released......

[brainrot-yumm]

I've been staying up until 4-6 AM every night for the last four days covering my hands in glue in order to collage every doodle I've ever made since 2014 onto various pieces of cardboard. The original purpose for going through all of my schoolwork and cutting out the doodles was for a high school senior project that I never went through on, and I figured I could probably finish that up now.

I truly didn't think I had so much but I've covered three panels and disassembled a cardboard box, entirely covered every side of it and I still have so much more to attach. And all the pieces are so big that I'm almost out of all the tiny doodles. I'm actively searching for more cardboard to glue doodles onto

this is how I'm spending my school break. Running out of modge podge slathering glue onto dinky bits of paper with my finger and creating the equivalent of one singular layer of paper mache on random pieces of cardboard in the hopes of throwing them all up with hanging strips on my apartment wall.

And the worst part is that I actually have a shit ton of cardboard, but it's all at the one place I'm not currently staying at.

joy. (/in a way that is outwardly sarcastic but is inwardly genuine)

[gmun-ooc]

I am probably going to be a little less active on my blogs here because I have a final in like 15 days 👍

[natbplease]

pov: you’re having a normal one

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kickstarting a new Martin Hench novel about the dawn of enshittification

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/07/weird-pcs/#a-mormon-bishop-an-orthodox-rabbi-and-a-catholic-priest-walk-into-a-personal-computing-revolution

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by @wilwheaton:

http://martinhench.com

This is the third Hench novel, following on from the nationally bestselling The Bezzle (2024) and Red Team Blues (2023). I wrote Red Team Blues with a funny conceit: what if I wrote the final volume of a beloved, long-running series, without writing the rest of the series? Turns out, the answer is: "Your editor will buy a whole bunch more books in the series!"

My solution to this happy conundrum? Write the Hench books out of chronological order. After all, Marty Hench is a financial hacker who's been in Silicon Valley since the days of the first PCs, so he's been there for all the weird scams tech bros have dreamed up since Jobs and Woz were laboring in their garage over the Apple I. He's the Zelig of high-tech fraud! Look hard at any computing-related scandal and you'll find Marty Hench in the picture, quietly and competently unraveling the scheme, dodging lawsuits and bullets with equal aplomb.

Which brings me to Picks and Shovels. In this volume, we travel back to Marty's first job, in the 1980s – the weird and heroic era of the PC. Marty ended up in the Bay Area after he flunked out of an MIT computer science degree (he was too busy programming computers to do his classwork), and earning his CPA at a community college.

Silicon Valley in the early eighties was wild: Reaganomics stalked the land, the AIDS crisis was in full swing, the Dead Kennedys played every weekend, and man were the PCs ever weird. This was before the industry crystalized into Mac vs PC, back when no one knew what they were supposed to look like, who was supposed to use them, and what they were for.

Marty's first job is working for one of the weirder companies: Fidelity Computing. They sound like a joke: a computer company run by a Mormon bishop, a Catholic priest and an orthodox rabbi. But the joke's on their customers, because Fidelity Computing is a scam: a pyramid sales cult that exploits religious affinities to sell junk PCs that are designed to lock customers in and squeeze them for every dime. A Fidelity printer only works with Fidelity printer paper (they've gimmicked the sprockets on the tractor-feed). A Fidelity floppy drive only accepts Fidelity floppies (every disk is sold with a single, scratched-out sector and the drives check for an error on that sector every time they run).

Marty figures out he's working for the bad guys when they ask him to destroy Computing Freedom, a scrappy rival startup founded by three women who've escaped from Fidelity Computing's cult: a queer orthodox woman who's been kicked out of her family; a radical nun who's thrown in with the Liberation Theology movement in opposing America's Dirty Wars; and a Mormon woman who's quit the church in disgust at its opposition to the Equal Rights Amendment. The women of Computing Freedom have a (ahem) holy mission: to free every Fidelity customer from the prison they were lured into.

Marty may be young and inexperienced, but he can spot a rebel alliance from a light year away and he knows what side he wants to be on. He joins the women in their mission, and we're deep into a computing war that quickly turns into a shooting war. Turns out the Reverend Sirs of Fidelity Computer aren't just scammers – they're mobbed up, and willing to turn to lethal violence to defend their racket.

This is a rollicking crime thriller, a science fiction novel about the dawn of the computing revolution. It's an archaeological expedition to uncover the fossil record of the first emergence of enshittification, a phenomenon that was born with the PC and its evil twin, the Reagan Revolution.

The book comes out on Feb 15 in hardcover and ebook from Macmillan (US/Canada) and Bloomsbury (UK), but neither publisher is doing the audiobook. That's my department.

Why? Well, I love audiobooks, and I especially love the audiobooks for this series, because they're read by the incredible Wil Wheaton, hands down my favorite audiobook narrator. But that's not why I retain my audiobook rights and produce my own audiobooks. I do that because Amazon's Audible service refuses to carry any of my audiobooks.

Here's how that works: Audible is a division of Amazon, and they've illegally obtained a monopoly over the audiobook market, controlling more than 90% of audiobook sales in many genres. That means that if your book isn't for sale on Audible, it might as well not exist.

But Amazon won't let you sell your books on Audible unless you let them wrap those books in "digital rights management," a kind of encryption that locks them to Audible's authorized players. Under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, it's a felony punishable with a 5-year sentence and a $500k fine to supply you with a tool to remove an audiobook from Audible and play it on a rival app. That applies even if the person who gives you the tool is the creator of the book!

You read that right: if I make an audiobook and then give you the tools to move it out of Amazon's walled garden, I could go to prison for five years! That's a stiffer sentence than you'd face if you were to just pirate the audiobook. It's a harsher penalty than you'd get for shoplifting the book on CD from a truck-stop. It's more draconian than the penalty for hijacking the truck that delivers the CDs!

Amazon knows that every time you buy an audiobook from Audible, you increase the cost you'll have to pay if you switch to a competitor. They use that fact to give readers a worse deal (last year they tried out ads in audiobooks!). But the people who really suffer under this arrangement are the writers, whom Amazon abuses with abandon, knowing they can't afford to leave the service because their readers are locked into it. That's why Amazon felt they could get away with stealing $100 million from indie audiobook creators (and yup, they got away with it):

https://www.audiblegate.com/about

Which is why none of my books can be sold with DRM. And that means that Audible won't carry any of them.

For more than a decade, I've been making my own audiobooks, in partnership with the wonderful studio Skyboat Media and their brilliant director, Gabrielle de Cuir:

https://skyboatmedia.com/

I pay fantastic narrators a fair wage for their work, then I pay John Taylor Williams, the engineer who masters my podcasts, to edit the books and compose bed music for the intro and outro. Then I sell the books at every store in the world – except Audible and Apple, who both have mandatory DRM. Because fuck DRM.

Paying everyone a fair wage is expensive. It's worth it: the books are great. But even though my books are sold at many stores online, being frozen out of Audible means that the sales barely register.

That's why I do these Kickstarter campaigns, to pre-sell thousands of audiobooks in advance of the release. I've done six of these now, and each one was a huge success, inspiring others to strike out on their own, sometimes with spectacular results:

https://www.usatoday.com/story/entertainment/books/2022/04/01/brandon-sanderson-kickstarter-41-million-new-books/7243531001/

Today, I've launched the Kickstarter for Picks and Shovels. I'm selling the audiobook and ebook in DRM-form, without any "terms of service" or "license agreement." That means they're just like a print book: you buy them, you own them. You can read them on any equipment you choose to. You can sell them, give them away, or lend them to friends. Rather than making you submit to 20,000 words of insulting legalese, all I ask of you is that you don't violate copyright law. I trust you!

Speaking of print books: I'm also pre-selling the hardcover of Picks and Shovels and the paperbacks of The Bezzle and Red Team Blues, the other two Marty Hench books. I'll even sign and personalize them for you!

http://martinhench.com

I'm also offering five chances to commission your own Marty Hench story – pick your favorite high-tech finance scam from the past 40 years of tech history, and I'll have Marty bust it in a custom short story. Once the story is published, I'll make sure you get credit. Check out these two cool Little Brother stories my previous Kickstarter backers commissioned:

Spill

https://reactormag.com/spill-cory-doctorow/

Vigilant

https://reactormag.com/vigilant-cory-doctorow/

I'm heading out on tour this winter and spring with the book. I'll be in LA, San Francisco, San Diego, Burbank, Bloomington, Chicago, Richmond VA, Toronto, NYC, Boston, Austin, DC, Baltimore, Seattle, and other dates still added. I've got an incredible roster of conversation partners lined up, too: John Hodgman, Charlie Jane Anders, Dan Savage, Ken Liu, Peter Sagal, Wil Wheaton, and others.

I hope you'll check out this book, and come out to see me on tour and say hi. Before I go, I want to leave you with some words of advance praise for Picks and Shovels:

I hugely enjoyed Picks and Shovels. Cory Doctorow’s reconstruction of the age is note perfect: the detail, the atmosphere, ethos, flavour and smell of the age is perfectly conveyed. I love Marty and Art and all the main characters. The hope and the thrill that marks the opening section. The superb way he tells the story of the rise of Silicon Valley (to use the lazy metonym), inserting the stories of Shockley, IBM vs US Government, the rise of MS – all without turning journalistic or preachy.

The seeds of enshittification are all there… even in the sunlight of that time the shadows are lengthening. AIDS of course, and the coming scum tide of VCs. In Orwellian terms, the pigs are already rising up on two feet and starting to wear trousers. All that hope, all those ideals…

I love too the thesis that San Francisco always has failed and always will fail her suitors.

Despite cultural entropy, enshittification, corruption, greed and all the betrayals there’s a core of hope and honour in the story too.

-Stephen Fry

Cory Doctorow writes as few authors do, with tech world savvy and real world moral clarity. A true storyteller for our times.

-John Scalzi

A crackling, page-turning tumble into an unexpected underworld of queer coders, Mission burritos, and hacker nuns. You will fall in love with the righteous underdogs of Computing Freedom—and feel right at home in the holy place Doctorow has built for them far from Silicon Valley’s grabby, greedy hands."

-Claire Evans, editor of Motherboard Future, author of Broad Band: The Untold Story of the Women Who Made the Internet.

"Wonderful…evokes the hacker spirit of the early personal computer era—and shows how the battle for software freedom is eternal."

-Steven Levy, author of Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution and Facebook: The Inside Story.

What could be better than a Martin Hench thriller set in 1980s San Francisco that mixes punk rock romance with Lotus spreadsheets, dot matrix printers and religious orders? You'll eat this up – I sure did.

-Tim Wu, Special Assistant to the President for Technology and Competition Policy, author of The Master Switch: The Rise and Fall of Information Empires

Captures the look and feel of the PC era. Cory Doctorow draws a portrait of a Silicon Valley and San Francisco before the tech bros showed up — a startup world driven as much by open source ideals as venture capital gold.

-John Markoff, Pulitzer-winning tech columnist for the New York Times and author of What the Doormouse Said: How the Sixties Counterculture Shaped the Personal Computer Industry

You won't put this book down – it's too much fun. I was there when it all began. Doctorow's characters and their story are real.

-Dan'l Lewin, CEO and President of the Computer History Museum

[mommyslittlebird]

What the Body Wants

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

Summary: Now that you’ve decided to stay home for good, Wanda decides to take a step further into her role as your mama. The side effects bring out parts of her you’ve never seen.

CW: Stepmom/stepdaughter, induced lactation, breeding, cum strap, ovulation, light choking, W wants a baby, R is lowkey a bad fuck, R is confused but enthusiastic

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: Writer is also confused but enthusiastic. I’m not entirely sure I did this right but I like how it turned out and I really loved the premise. I hope this lives up to the hype/the rest of the series!

Part 5 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

Coming home actually turned out to be a bit of a better deal than you expected. You’d half prepared to be regretting your decision by now, longing for the dorm life and solitude that moving away had given you. But, in reality, that college had never really given what you had hoped it would, so it didn’t feel like you were leaving anything behind.

Home life had also improved in the years you went away. A new custody agreement between Wanda and her ex-husband meant the boys were gone every other week, and they had grown up enough to not be riding Wanda’s coattails like they had been when you left. Your father was still deadweight, but he fell asleep early and stayed at work late, so even he was only an issue on occasion.

Even though it was only a 15 minute drive to campus, you adjusted your schedule to only have in-person classes on Tuesday and Thursday so you didn’t have to go everyday. So you spent most days in the bay window of Wanda’s office with your laptop and a lap desk, silently working on classwork while she sat at her computer.

Since you’d decided to stay home 2 weeks ago, Wanda had started the process of induced lactation, a thing the two of you had discussed in the past. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by the process. She would sit down on the couch or in bed, and spend around ten minutes with the funny looking devices hooked up to her chest. She still had an electric pump from when she had the twins, and you love to watch in awe as the clear plastic methodically massaged your mama’s nipples. She’d simply be reading a book or watching TV, but your eyes never left her chest.

If you asked nicely, she would let you help her use the manual pump. It never failed to amuse her how seriously you took this task. You would straddle her lap, furrowing your brow and sticking out your tongue slightly in intense focus. You always made sure the cup was placed perfectly, and you watched her face to gauge her reaction as you started to squeeze the pump. You were so receptive to anything she told you, whether you needed to squeeze it a little bit more, or if you’d gone too far. You always felt so honored to be allowed to take part in the process.

Your favorite, though, was when she invited you to join. She always insisted that the best form of stimulation was your suckling. She would lay you across her lap, running her hands through your hair, telling you that you did it better than the machines ever could. You spent 10, sometimes even 20 minutes on each side longing to draw out the process for as long as possible. Occasionally, she’d let you suckle on one side while she hooked up the electric pump to the other. She seemed to get extra stimulated on those days, hardly able to sit still even with your full weight in her lap.

On this particular afternoon, the two of you were curled up on the couch watching one of Wanda's favorite movies. You thought it was a little boring, but you weren’t going to complain while you curled up in her lap, securely wrapped in a soft blanket. The boys were at their dad’s house, your dad was at work and wouldn’t be home for several hours, and Wanda didn’t have any meetings this afternoon, so you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

You wiggled around a little, trying to get comfortable, and you accidentally pushed your shoulder into Wanda’s chest.

She winced and sucked on her teeth. “Careful baby,” she whispered. “Mama’s a little sore.”

“Sorry, mama,” you apologized, turning to face her while carefully avoiding hitting her again. She took her breast in her hand, gently massaging it to ease the tension. You could see through gritted teeth how sore she was. You wanted to help her in any way possible. “Do you need a massage?” You asked innocently.

She perked up a little bit, intrigued by the offer. “Do you wanna give mama’s breast a gentle little massage?”

You nodded, and she slipped her shirt off over her head, revealing her chest. You could’ve sworn it was growing, though not so much she couldn’t hide it with baggy clothes. She took your hand in hers and slowly raised it to her breast. She could see you were nervous. You didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s okay baby,” she reassured you. “You aren’t gonna hurt mama.”

You bit your lip, determined to do a good job and ease her pain. She was doing this for you, after all. You cautiously massaged the skin with your fingers, working your way carefully around her chest.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed, throwing her head over the back of the couch. You could see her chewing the inside of her cheek, breathing shakily through her nose.

“Is this okay, mama?” you ask, concerned. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No, sweet girl,” she assured. “Don’t stop, just a tiny bit harder… ahh. You’re doing such a good job making sure your mama is all taken care of.”

“Mama?” you asked nervously.

“Yes, sweet girl?” she responded breathily.

“Is it hurting your body? To try and make milk for me?”

Wanda sat up straighter and cupped your soft, worried cheek. “Aww, sweetheart. You’re not hurting mama, baby. Mama is doing this because she wants to. And it doesn’t hurt so much as it’s just sensitive.” She stroked your cheekbone with her thumb, noticing how worried you still seemed to be. “Can mama tell you a secret baby?”

You nodded and leaned in, pressing your ear to her lips even though you were the only two people in the room.

Wanda dropped her voice to a whisper, playing along with your overly stealthy approach. “Mama’s body is reacting like this because all this pumping is making it want a baby.”

She took your hand, sliding it down her body and into the front of her pants. You nearly gasped as you felt through her thin underwear just how soaked she was. You pressed lightly into the wet patch, sliding two fingers up her slit through the fabric. She inhaled sharply, already grinding up against your hand. “It’s so sensitive, baby.”

She pulled back, gauging your reaction. There was a glint of recognition in your eyes. You were familiar with this sensation.

—----------

You stood in the doorway of her office, anxious and sweating. Your body felt it was on fire, tingling from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. You typically had a decently high sex drive, but you couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever felt this needy. It would have been easy enough to go to your room and masterbate, solve the problem on your own, but you wanted more. You wanted Wanda.

“Mama?”

Wanda turned her office chair to meet you. “Yes, sweet girl? What can I help you with?” She opened her arms, signaling you to come in.

You sat down in her lap and laid your head against her shoulder. She cradled the back of your head, stroking your hair softly with her thumb.

You hadn’t exactly planned to press your lips to her neck, to gently suck at the skin under her ear, but you were so hot, and her skin looked so soft, and you were so close, and she smelled so nice. And god, the taste, the sound you drew from her lips, the warmth of her skin. You needed her so badly. You slid your hand under the hem of her shirt, sliding your palm across her warm stomach.

“Sweetheart?” she said in a warning tone, using her hand to gently pull you from her neck. “What are you doing?”

She looked down, finding your eyes already glazed over with lust. You were hot to the touch, and just the simple tug of your hair pulled a low moan from your throat. “I need you, mama….”

She swallowed hard. It took a herculean amount of strength not to throw you over her desk and take you right there. If she hadn’t been a tad concerned that you had lost your mind, she would have. “Baby…” she asked. “What’s going on? Talk to mama.”

Your eyes looked into hers, pleading for more. Anything to take away the aching from between your legs. “It… I feel… It’s all so tingly. Everywhere. It… it hurts mama.” You were practically begging her to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

“Ahh,” she hummed in recognition. “It’s that time of the month, is it?”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What? No. My period was last week.”

“So your ovulation is this week,” she posited, smiling devilishly. “I’ll have to start keeping track of it, if it’s hitting you this hard.”

You groaned and buried your face into her shoulder while your hips bucked against her lap for any source of friction. You didn’t exactly know what ovulation was or what it had to do with you being so unbearably horny, but you weren’t exactly in the mood for an anatomy lesson.

Wanda kissed your head sympathetically and rubbed gentle circles on to the small of your back. “I’m so sorry, little love. Mama will take care of you in just a minute, just let me email Tasha and let her know I’m taking a long lunch.”

Thankfully, Wanda was true to her word, wrapping up her things rather quickly and carrying you to the bedroom. Your body hummed with electricity as she gently undressed you, making sure to egg you on with wet kisses and random hickies placed sporadically across your skin. You nearly jumped off the bed when she finally touched you, running a single digit up your folds and standing back to admire the results.

“Oh sweet girl, look at this,” she purred, holding her fingers in front of your face, covered in your excitement. As disinterested as you were in anything other than her hands and mouth on your body, you were admittedly a bit curious as to why it looked so different. What was usually a thin, clear liquid was now thick and white. She brought the fingers to your lips and you obediently took them into your mouth. “Do you know why it looks like that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, quietly moaning at your own taste.

She leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “It’s because your body wants mama to give you babies.”

Just the raspy way the words left her mouth sent your hips flying off the mattress in a jolt of arousal. She stilled them with her hands, moving to kneel between your legs.

You had always had a pretty strong preference for missionary. You like to wrap your arms around Wanda’s waist and bury your face in her neck to stifle any sounds that she pulled out of you. This time, however, Wanda grabbed your legs and pushed your knees to your chest, gripping your thighs just below the underside of your knee.

You whined, feeling too far away from her, but she bent forward and kissed your head. “Shshsh. It’s okay sweet girl. Mama’s got you.”

You almost wanted to protest, but as soon as the tip of the toy hit your skin, any objections melted away. It was bigger than the toys you typically used, but you were so soaked the first four inches still slid in with ease. Your body momentarily seized and you breathed out a straggled moan.

Wanda took it slow at first, leaning forward to kiss your face and whisper words of encouragement as she gently eased the toy deeper and deeper with each thrust. “That’s it. That’s my pretty girl,” she cooed. “You look so pretty stretched out around mama’s cock, baby. Does it feel good? Is this just what you needed from mama?”

“Uh huh,” you moaned, eyes already starting to roll backwards. Your face flushed red when you realized you had nothing to cover your mouth with, leaving you squeaking and whining uncontrollably with each thrust.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as Wanda bottomed out. You quickly realized the reason Wanda had you folded over like this: the strap could go impossibly deep, stretching you out in ways you’d never felt before. It was like she was kissing your womb with every stroke.

She groaned, slowly but firmly thrusting in as far as she could and holding it there before pulling back again. “Look at you, honey. Mama’s got you nice and ready. Are you gonna be a good girl for mama and let me give your body what it needs? Are you gonna let mama give you her babies?”

You bit down hard on your lip. You didn’t really understand what she was talking about. She couldn’t actually get you pregnant, but you did not care. You nodded eagerly, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “Mhm.”

“Say it for me. Tell me you want mama to fill you with her babies,” she commanded gently, continuing her slow and careful thrusts.

“I want… I want your babies mama. Please. Please mama I want you inside me forever,” you whined. Still you didn’t exactly understand what you were begging for, but the glare in her eyes told you that must have done the trick.

She leaned forward, pressing her whole body against yours and pinning you to the mattress. Your feet went up over her shoulders, keeping you trapped in the position even as her hands moved from your legs to the mattress. What had previously been slow, shallow strokes turned into faster, brutal thrusts. She pulled the toy nearly completely out of you before slamming it all the way back in. Her hips met yours in a merciless rhythm that left you shaking.

“Fuck! Mama… Mama!” You screamed, trying to reach out and grab her, but unable to get your hands out from under your legs. “Mama… I love you. I love you mama.”

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she said, nearly grunting with the intensity of her movement.

There was a shift that happened sometimes, when things got particularly intense between the two of you. It was like the slipping of a mask, but not in a scary or malicious way. Just Wanda so brutally intoxicated with you that she lost control. Her eyes narrowed and her face hardened. Her breaths came more as grunts than light moans. Her grip on you tightened into something more possessive and domineering. It never failed to drive you crazy.

“Fuck,” she growled, leaning back and moving her hand to your throat. “I’m gonna breed you. I’m going to keep filling you up until you can’t do anything but lay here and wait for me to come back and fill you up again. I’m gonna keep you leaking with my cum until this sweet little belly is all nice and swollen. Would you like that, angel? Do you want mama to keep you nice and full?”

“Yes mama!” you cried. “Please… please mama. Mama I’m gonna cum for you. Please cum inside of me mama. Please cum in…” you were cut short by an orgasm tearing through your body, leaving you speechless and dumb.

Wanda did not let up, continuing to chase her own pleasure. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t get out anymore than incoherent babbles. Wanda grabbed the vibrator she had given you earlier from your hand, turning it on and holding it to your clit. You writhed underneath her, jerking and spasming off the mattress, but she held you firmly in place.

Neither of you could do anymore than whimper or squeak. The only sound in the room was her hips hitting yours and the low thrum of the vibrator.

She let go of your throat, leaning forward again so she could kiss your face. “You're so beautiful, angel. And you feel so good on mama’s cock.” She turned up the setting on the vibrator, burying herself inside of you as deep as she could go. She could feel the vibrations against her own clit now. “Oh angel, mama’s gonna cum inside of you. Mama’s gonna fill you up and give your body everything it wants.” She squeezed the strap as she came, filling you with a warm, thick liquid unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Wanda slowly pulled out, and gently guided your legs down to a more natural and comfortable position.

You shuttered as you felt the liquid leak out of you and drip down the crack of your ass. You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Mama…” you whined. You were so exhausted you couldn’t do anything but turn your head to look at her.

“Yes, little love?” She said, leaning forward to gently wipe the stray hairs from your sweaty forehead.

“What was that?” You asked breathlessly. “Feels funny…”

“Mama just came inside of you, sweet girl,” she explained quietly, bending down to kiss your head.

“It’s so… warm,” you noted, rolling your head to the side. Your nose pinched uncomfortably as you felt the thick liquid dripping down onto the bed sheets.

Wanda reached her hand back down between your legs, collecting the cum on her fingers and pushing it back inside of you. You whined.

“Shshsh angel,” she cooed. “Mama’s just making sure you stay nice and full, sweetheart. You remember what we talked about, yes? That’s why you’ve been so needy for mama all afternoon. This is what your body wants.”

When she was satisfied, she discarded the strap and laid down behind you, putting her arms under yours and methodically rubbing your stomach. She imagined your stomach swelling with life you created together. What a beautiful display that would be, of your love for each other. She moved your hair aside so she could kiss the back of your neck and the spot up under your ears.

You laced your fingers in hers, resting them just below your navel. “Do you really have to go back to work, mama?” You couldn’t handle it if she left you in here alone, all sweaty and still leaking cum. Surely she would at least carry you to the bathroom, maybe run you a bath and get you cleaned up.

Wanda chuckled and kissed your shoulder blade. “I think Tasha can handle it on her own.” She pulled you closer, rubbing her cheek against your shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would explain this to her coworker in the morning, but she would be sure to start taking a day off around the same time every month.

—---------

“You want me to…” you asked nervously, but even the idea made your pupils dilate. You had never used that particular strap inside of her. She’d only ever used it on you. It was honestly still a mystery to you, how the thing worked.

Wanda bit her lip and nodded, pulling your hand from her pants. “I mean, only if you-”

“I do!” you interrupted.

She raised her brows and opened her mouth like she was getting ready to chastise you for interrupting, but when she saw the eager, innocent excitement in your eyes, she just sighed. “Okay angel. Let’s go up to your room.”

You practically jumped up off of the couch and raced upstairs, grabbing the strap and shedding your clothes before she could even make it up the stairs. She merely chuckled at your overeager behavior, casually stripping off her own clothes while you fiddled with the harness.

She sat down naked on the end of the bed, helping you secure it around your waist. She pulled at the straps you had already managed to get twisted and tangled, adjusting and tightening it to your body. “Is that too tight?”

You shook your head, waving your hips back and forth to make sure it was snug.

She led your hand to a bulge at the base of the toy. “Now when you’re ready, you’re gonna squeeze right here, okay?”

You nodded, feeling the unfamiliar shape with the pads of your fingers.

Wanda scooted backwards until her head hit the pillows. You followed, crawling on your knees until you were nestled comfortably between her legs.

You were always a little awkward, trying to get the toy in. Luckily Wanda was right there to help. She eased the tip in herself, biting her lip to contain a moan as she did so. “Okay now remember, just start nice and slow.”

You leaned over her, putting your hand against the mattress on either side of her. You stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration, trying to focus on finding a good movement. If you were being honest, you were never particularly good at this part either. But what you lacked in skill, you made up for in determination. You found a slow, and slightly awkward, but steady rhythm.

Wanda hummed delightedly, pulling you down against her. “Mmm… that’s it angel. Nice and slow. Give mama some time to adjust.”

As you continued your easy, slow ministrations, you found yourself being able to go deeper with each stroke. It was only a minute or two before you were all the way inside. If you weren’t actually trying to make her cum, you might just stay like that forever, deep inside of Wanda, feeling her body clench and pulse around you. It felt so natural. More natural to you than anything else in the world. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

You took the opportunity to crane your neck downward and trace your tongue over her sensitive nipples. She gasped, squeezing her eyes closed and burying her hands in your hair. You sucked the hardened bud into your mouth and gently flicked it with the point of your tongue. Her body was taut like a bowstring, hardly moving under you aside from a few swallow gasps. You moved to the other side, gently circling the exposed one nipple with your fingertip while you did the same with your tongue on the other.

“Keep going, baby,” she panted, arching her chest up into you. She reached one of her hands down to play with her clit. “That feels so good. Mama is so sensitive for you. Mama’s body knows you’re her baby.”

You moaned at her words, your mouth and fingers doubling down. Her body shuttered and you felt her start to pulse around the strap. You felt a surge of warmth pool between her legs. You pulled your head up to look her in the eyes. “Did you just…”

She nodded and chuckled a little bit. “I told you I was sensitive.”

Your eyes went wide. You had never made her cum so fast. But a certain pride swelled up in your chest as you watched her body react to what you were doing. You gained a bit of confidence: enough to start rolling your hips in a steady motion against hers.

The smug chuckle immediately stopped as the strap started to scrap her sensitive walls. The toy was traced with vein-like bumps that scratched at that special spot inside of her. Her hands shot up and wrapped around your back, clawing gently at your shoulder blades and the length of your spine. “Ah!” she squeaked in pleasant surprise. You’d never quite taken initiative like this before. “Good girl. You're making mama feel so good. Keep going, just like that.”

She wrapped her legs around your waist, keeping your thrusts shallow and deep. “Oh god. I want to feel your cum inside of me, angel. You’re gonna make mama feel so full and happy. Tell me you want to cum inside me, sweet girl.”

“I wanna cum inside you mama. I wanna make you feel so full and… and happy. I’m gonna do such a good job for you mama. I promise,” you stammer. The sounds she was making were music to your ears. Her heels dug into your thighs in tandem with her nails on your back. She was everywhere, surrounding you in every way possible. You looked down between her legs, watching the strap slide in and out of her pussy. That was your cock inside of her.

Suddenly, as if it were some trick of your brain, you could feel it, warm and wet, drawing you in again and again. She wanted you to cum inside of her. You wanted to cum inside of her. You wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her slightly up off the mattress as you started to go faster. You buried your face into her neck, muffling your noises.

“Oh fuck,” Wanda panted, bury her hand in your hair. She cradled your head just over her shoulder. “Fuck… you would give me such beautiful babies.”

You whimpered and rutted into her so hard and fast she nearly hit her head on the headboard. She smiled breathlessly. Clearly she got you riled up.

“Did that make you happy? The idea of giving mama a baby?” She asked, turning her head so she was only inches away from your ear.

You whined and nodded, rutting into her again. This time she let out a deep, satisfied moan as she felt the tip of the toy kiss her cervix. “You want to put a baby inside of mama?”

You knew it wasn’t possible, of course. Wanda couldn’t have any more children, and even if she could you certainly couldn’t get her pregnant. Still, the idea tickled your brain in all the best ways. It would be a part of you inside of Wanda. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip. “Mhm.”

You wrapped yourself even tighter around her waist thrusting your hips into her with a new determination. “I wanna hear you say it baby…” she gasped. “Tell mama what you want.”

That was all she needed to say to get the dam to break. As soon as you open your mouth, the words flowed out of you in a flurry of desperation. “I want… I wanna fill you up mama. Please. Please, I need it. Please mama.” You were bucking into her like a virginal teenage boy, erratic and sloppy, like you could actually feel yourself inside of her. “You feel so good, mama.”

“I’m so full,” she breathed. She was so sensitive. You were hitting every spot inside of her while simultaneously laying on her aching chest. “Fuck, angel, you’re filling me up so good. Do you want to feel mama cum on your cock? Do you wanna make mama cum?”

“Yes. Please yes,” you begged, rolling your hips into hers. You sat up a little more, getting a better angle that allowed you to get even deeper inside of her. There was a surge of hunger that shot through you at the sight of her, absolutely beside herself with pleasure underneath you. You reduced her to this. You are the reason she feels so good. In a feeble attempt at dominance, you took her wrists in your hands and pinned them to the bed.

“Yes, baby. Hold mama down and make her take your babies,” she moaned.

You whimpered. You were far too small to even attempt to actually hold her down, but the sentiment still drove you both crazy. You buried the strap as deep as it would go, squeezing the base and releasing inside of her.

She arched up off the mattress, mouth fixed in a perfect “o” shape as she came around you.

You stayed like that for a second, buried inside her until she stopped shaking and collapsed back onto the bed. Slowly, you eased yourself out of her, watching your seed spill out of her. You hadn’t expected it, but there was a certain level of discontentment you felt, seeing your essence drip onto the mattress. You gathered what you could onto the tip of the toy and gently pushed it back in.

She groaned, exhausted and unable to move. You gently eased yourself down to lay on her chest, careful to avoid her tender breasts. You went limp on top of her, merging together in a boneless and sweaty pile of heavy breaths as you both tried to recover.

When she regained the ability to move, she scooted back to sit up against the pillows and moved to stroke your hair. The toy slowly fell out of her, and the warm remnants of your orgasm started to pool on the sheets below. After a long moment of lying lifelessly sprawled out on top of her, you heard her chuckle. You lifted your head to find her smiling down at you in an ecstatic giggle.

“What?” you asked, confused as if you had missed some joke.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy.” She craned her neck so she could see your face. She was grinning ear to ear. I was a true smile: one she couldn’t even repress if she tried.

“About what?” you asked, confused. Sex, even good sex, had never left her with such a cheery disposition before.

“Just…” she paused a minute, trying to figure out how to best phrase what she wanted to say. “My body is aching for a baby and then I look down and… you’re here.”

You smiled at that, feeling that you had filled some deep biological need within her just the same as she filled one in you. You looked at her swelling breasts, and you nosed at them in a silent question. She guided your head towards her nipple in a silent answer. Your lips wrapped delicately around the hardened bud, naturally massaging it with your tongue. Much to her dismay, there still wasn’t any milk, but there was a different type of magic to knowing there would be, eventually.

The two of you were working together to create a beautiful thing. It was a sort of tangible proof that her body was responding to you, claiming you as her own. Her breasts were growing for you. Filling with milk they made for you. Because she was your mama, and you were her baby.

[axolotl4days]

Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

[hartleychristopher]

casually slides in here

cracks knuckles

chris with both a degradation & praise kink. thank you, i’ll be here all week - aeon

Omg hehehe Aeon!!! ILY ❤️

okay so I interpreted this as Chris likes being both degraded and praised ;3 I hope you like that idea

(Chris x fem!reader)

Warnings: creepy/perv!chris (it’s kinda mild tbh but just in case, Chris takes a bikini pic of reader without readers knowledge), degradation, blowjob!!

NSFW 18+

You entered Chris’s apartment quietly, having been in class all morning, you decided to drop by his off-campus apartment. It wasn’t far from your college, just a block. And you thought it would be cute to surprise him. You have a key, anyways.

So you’re slowly and quietly walking through his hallway to his bedroom, where he’s probably sitting at his computer, working on coding or classwork.

Chris loves jumping out behind doors to scare you all the time, he thinks it’s funny… so why not get him back? He deserves a taste of his own medicine.

But as you stalk closer to his room you see his door is ajar… you see he is in fact sitting in his desk chair, facing his computer, looking down into his lap… his chair is shaking(?) a little bit and you hear the unmistakable sound of a whiny moan leaving Chris’s mouth.

Oh. Oh.

You peak through the door, all thoughts of scaring him are out the window as you watch from behind, his thick arm flexing as he presumably pumps himself. You can’t quite see. And his head falls back in a moan, his eyes fluttered closed as your name leaves his lips.

You can’t help but gasp. And Chris hears you.

His eyes shoot open, his body jerks in surprise and his phone flies out of his hand and lands face down in front of you.

He whips his head around to you.

He breathes your name, a tone of surprise.

“What-what are you…?” He trails off as he tries and fails to pull his pants up over his aching hard cock. He was so close to cumming.

You say nothing, leaning down to pick up his phone off the ground, turning it over in your hands to look at what he was looking at.

“H-hey!” He says weakly, his hand trying to reach for his phone but he’s unsuccessful from simultaneously trying—and failing—to tuck his cock back into his boxers.

You can’t help but gasp again as you see that it’s a picture of you.

A picture of you in your bikini at the lake last year that Chris definitely took without you realizing because it’s candid.

Your eyebrows furrow as you pretend to be upset but your heart pounds in your chest and you can feel your core clench and your panties dampen.

“Chris…” you say slowly.

“It’s not!—I wasn’t!” He stutters pathetically. It’s exactly what it looks like.

“You’re jerking off to a picture of me in a bathing suit?” You ask softly, stalking towards him, you actually look pretty good in this photo, for it being taken unknowingly… Chris is a good photographer.

“I—I…” he stutters, his cheeks are flushed, his glasses are crooked, his eyebrows are knitted together, his blonde hair is messed up. He looks delicious.

Your eyes trail down to where his jeans are around his thighs, his cock is straining against his boxers where he’s managed to get it back in, precum staining the grey fabric.

“You’re not looking at porn like a normal person?” You ask, stepping closer, your heart is beating in your ears. “You’re looking at a picture of your friend… in a bikini… a picture you seemingly took without her permission?” You press, referring to yourself in the third person.

Chris starts to panic, he’s so nervous he’s ruined everything but his cock is also painfully hard and twitching in his pants from the way you’re looking at him.

“That’s so creepy, Christopher” you tsk, but you’re only getting closer to him. You’re not throwing his phone at him and running away. The way you use his full name is making him shiver, like he’s in trouble… but he likes it.

“I know” he breathes. His heart is racing in his chest, his fingers flex at his sides from how bad he wants to touch you… or even himself.

“You’re a fucking pervert.” You say sweetly. You’re standing between his legs now.

He’s looking up at you reverently, like he’s beholding a goddess.

“I know” he repeats, his cock twitches at your words.

You kneel down between his legs. Sitting pretty on your knees for him, pushing his knees apart so you can get between them.

Chris thinks he’s dreaming, he must be right?? This is something out of a fantasy, how the fuck is this happening right now. His breath catches in his throat.

“You’re… you’re not upset?” He asks, he thinks he’s misreading this situation.

“Upset?” You ask, your hands running up and down this thighs teasingly. “Upset that you want me so bad that you’re a pervert for me?” You whisper.

“Uhm” Chris stutters… he’s not sure what to say… “yes?” He answers weakly. He can’t deny that is a pervert when it comes to you, but only for you. No one else.

“No, baby” you say softly. And his heart leaps at that.

‘Baby???’ He thinks… You’ve never called him that before.

Chris isn’t sure what to do, can he touch you now? Is that allowed??

“Take your dick back out for me, sweet boy” you purr. And Chris has never obeyed an order faster in his life. His heart melts at the term of endearment, a low whine leaving his mouth. His head is spinning at how fast you went from calling him a ‘creepy pervert’ to a ‘sweet boy’ but he loves it.

In a second his cock is in front of your face, now that you’re getting a good look at it, you’re realizing it’s even bigger than you thought it would be (and you thought it would be big)

You reach out to grip the base and he whines.

“Do you want my help?” You ask softly.

“Y-yes!” He whimpers “yes please” he begs you, his face is twisted in a desperate pleasure.

“Good boy” you purr. “Saying please so nicely” you praise him. And he whines again, being called a good boy by you is making him crazy.

“I dunno how much I’m gonna be able to fit in my mouth, Chris” you say, gently licking along a prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

“Oh—oh! That’s okay” he breathes “it’s okay” he repeats, his hips jerking up into you involuntarily. He’d be happy with anything you give him, he’s so desperate to feel the warmth of your mouth that he could cry.

“I’ll try my best okay, baby?” You say softly, running your tongue over the thick head of his cock, which is flushed an angry red color now, and you can taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue.

“Oh my god!—Jesus…” he curses, watching your tongue swirl over him, listening to your sweet voice, his head is spinning. His hands come up to gently start to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail. he wants to take his phone and record this—he needs to remember this moment forever and replay it over and over. But he doesn’t, he just watches in awe as his best friend takes his cock into her pretty mouth.

<3

[ihrtsevyn]

HOW TO GET THE GIRL: A LOVERS GUIDE

CHAPTER NINE: about jiwoo. (1.6k)

WARNINGS: angst, reader is referred to as woman.

◃ previous ep. ⊹ masterlist ⊹ next ▹

Weeks have gone by since you started tutoring Riki. To say you've started to like him more was a vast understatement. Once you dropped your "cold" act that lasted for a mere 3 sessions, You started to become accustomed to him.

Although you had gone many years without interacting with each other, it felt like the spark you had imagined between you two never left.

The both of you had grown comfortable with each other to the point you started to interact with each other outside of the usual library doors.

At first, it was embarrassing to have your name shouted at the other end of the hallway, however, it turned into a typical routine where instead of keeping your head down and speed-walking away from him to avoid lingering eyes, you'd wave back.

During these study sessions, you learned more and more about him. How he microwaves his strawberries, he has a dog named Bisco, he can play piano, and he has a large fear of bugs that you've sadly had to learn the hard way after he accidentally pushed you aside to run away from a nearby wasp.

Something else you learned about Niki was that his grades did not match up with his knowledge. Sure, he was inconsistent with his attendance and would rarely turn in classwork if any at all, but he was smart and an extremely fast learner.

It had gotten to the point where you'd just set a small bulk of his past-due assignments in front of him and study for your other classes until he finished.

The study sessions quickly turned into more of a hangout. Staying in the library together hours after completing whatever workload had stacked up over the week to share hushed laughter and talk about everything under the sun until the library had to close down for the night.

You'd even go as far as to call him your friend, and so would members of the Newspaper Club.

"You're in a rush." Lily offhandedly mentioned as she typed away on the school's computer. Her posture had straightened at the sound of you hastily packing away your belongings but her eyes refused to stray away from the screen.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to meet up with Riki." you answered before slinging the book bag over your shoulder.

"To do what exactly? It's a Friday and I thought you only tutored him on Sundays." J suddenly butted in, a playful yet accusatory tone to her voice as she suddenly invested herself in the conversation.

"I don't know actually, he asked to meet me at the school gates when our session ended."

"Oh? Is he walking you home? That's pretty cute." Yoon commented, a teasing smile growing on her face. "I don't know why he would, I mean— he's never done it before. So, I don't see why he'd want to do it now." You replied with fake unconcern.

You were being honest when you said you didn't know why Riki had suddenly made this decision to meet you at the school gate, but if it was to start walking you home on a frequent basis, you're 100% sure your knees would give out.

"Did you guys need any more help before I head out?" You suddenly questioned, trying to shift focus away from your last comment.

"Nope, we got it from here. Only thing we have left to do anyway is restock the printer paper." J assured with a small smile before hoisting herself up to sit on a desk.

"Okay, I'll see you guys later then." You quickly replied as you made your way towards the exit,

Lily only hummed in response to your statement before saying "Have fun, don't get into any trouble."

A smile crept onto your face as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at how much she sounded like a Mom sending her daughter off. "And text us when you make it back home!" Seeun responded, suddenly bordering out of the storage closet with a box filled to the brim with different bulks of paper.

"Okay, Moms, will do."

"About time." Riki groaned out, loud enough for your approaching figure to hear as you made your way into eye view. "Oh, shut up," you said as he pushed himself off of the gates.

"I feel like I've been waiting for forever." He whines as he follows behind your figure. "Yeah, right. Couldn't have been waiting that long since it looks like you went home to drop off your backpack." You pointed out, silently relishing in the feeling of freedom as you got farther and farther away from school grounds.

"I didn't feel like carrying that thing around all day. Plus, it'll be easier to carry yours." He stated nonchalantly.

He reached over to slip your bag off of your shoulders before flinging it across his own, his delicate fingers brushing over your own as he did so. But just as quick as his touch arrived, it was just as quick to leave.

His simple actions shouldn't ruffle you like they do, yet it still happens. You know that when Riki does things like this he never has an underlying intention which makes it all the more pathetic when you feel your stomach brim with butterflies the moment you make skin-to-skin contact with him.

You cleared your throat before wrapping your arms around your stomach, a meek attempt at trying to calm the raging storm of feelings that was happening inside of you.

"So, why did you want to walk me home all of a sudden?" You asked, shifting your gaze around the growing shrubbery to avoid looking in his direction.

"Oh, right. I wanted to ask you something." He shyly uttered, his free hand that wasn't holding your bag made its way to the back of his neck, nervously rubbing it as he looked down at his sneakers.

You glanced in his direction to see that whatever was on his mind had been weighing in on him for a while. "Yeah, what's up?" you asked softly before shifting your gaze forward.

"Um, you're friends with Jiwoo, right?" he asked, out of the corner of your eye you could see him turn towards you. Trying to gauge your reaction and see what you'd say.

It took a moment for the question to fully translate in your mind as if he was speaking a foreign language you had never heard before. Once it did register in your head you couldn't help the shock that overtook your body, nearly making you stumble over your feet.

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, it was as if you were a fish out of water. Your mouth had suddenly gone dry and it felt as if you saw the fantasy of your TV romance crashing in front of your eyes. "Yeah, Jiwoo and I are really good friends." You finally managed to push out.

"Why do you ask?" You quickly follow up, your eyebrows unknowingly furrowing.

"I asked because I wanted to know if she was single." He replied, his tone went from nervousness to giddiness in a matter of seconds.

You couldn't turn towards him because you could hear the smile in his voice at the mere mention of her name. You were afraid that if you saw how he beamed at the thought of her that the butterflies that were swarming in your stomach just a few seconds earlier would escape onto the concrete in front of you.

"She's single," you affirmed with a stiff nod.

"Do you think you could set me up with her?" He immediately asked, a hopeful tone in his voice. Each word that came out of his mouth felt like a blow to the gut, killing off each butterfly one by one.

Your head shook 'no' before you could even form the words. "I-...I don't think I could."

"Oh, come on, please?" He suddenly pleaded, turning towards you once again. He wanted you to look at him, whether intentionally or not he knew that if you made eye contact with him you'd fall into his trap just like everyone else.

"Just get one of the basketball players to help. Or one of their cheerleader girlfriends." you tried to reason. "It's not the same," he muttered, tilting his head towards the sky, another whine threatening to come out of his mouth.

"Come on, you'd be the perfect wing-woman. you're good friends with her so it'd be easy and less weird when someone she barely knows tries to set her up with me," he argued, adding onto why he wanted you to set him up with her.

You bit your lip in contemplation. It felt like the obvious answer was 'NO!' but another part of you wanted to agree to set them up. You were happy with the relationship you and Riki had started to build together and you didn't want an elementary crush to get in the way of that.

There was always the lingering possibility that you and him were only ever meant to be friends and nothing more, and maybe, just maybe, Jiwoo was the one for him.

"What do I get out of this?" You quietly asked after the lingering silence.

"Anything you want. If you do this for me I promise I'll pay you back" He swiftly responded before stopping in his tracks, instinctively making you stop alongside him. "Please, just do this for me." He begged, his hands fidgeting with the rings on his fingers as he waited for your answer.

"Fine, I'll help you."

TAGLIST: @sakiimeo @sakuxxi @ilyjxdz @artstaeh @rosas-in-the-garden @k1ttylvr @stilesks @enhagvrl @yourssincerely-mimi @rizzanna-soda @saursoob @haechansbbg @nishislcve @winuvs @kyrojackson @suhiiiies-blog @rikisgeef @soobs-things @jumigurumino @ssukiyakii @baribaaari @eleanorheartschishiya @rikibun @seunghancore @wonik1ss @sheepgardenbahhhh @rksbae @lukesboo @moomis @luvvvash @conwunder @yvjw @bunnbam @eilidiii @riksaes

[rametarin]

Here's a radical, capitalistic idea.

Lets pay children themselves to learn. Suddenly there's an incentive to meet certain goals. Every test they turn back correct, they're paid based on their ability to succeed.

Sign your name at the top? Get paid for that. Show your work? Get paid for that. Orthodox method of determining the solution? Get paid for that. Correct answer? Get paid for that.

And while we're at it, make the school websites accessible by their school laptops 24/7 and allow them to access their textbooks remotely, so they always have access to them. Now there's no excuse whatsoever for not having enough school textbooks for everybody to use, because the school copy is digital and can be copied once by everyone with a school laptop.

Make class time livestreamed, so students can review days they missed that school year. Even watch them at two times speed, so they can just devour through entire weeks in the span of hours and get the full benefit of listening in during class time.

Make automated computer tests that allow students to take them an infinite number of times, and the school accepts only the highest graded answer as the proof in the pudding of acquired knowledge.

You now create incentive for them to be there, and low wage has to compete with the benefits of a "day job" that is being a young student.

Create clear benchmarks and milestones and don't obfuscate the year's classwork just to make sure they spend the whole school year eating the same deviled egg and spinning their wheels with busy work, just to make the public school teachers seem like they're required to entertain children the entire year. That's time gating them and more or less holding them, and their lives, hostage. Let students choose to really slam the schedule of prepared subject matter and bypass the tyranny of only going at the pace of the teacher's lessons.

Create some sort of digital sit-in system to allow young people to watch college level courses without actually being in the classroom.

We don't have an education system. We have a system of people that legally mandate your children MUST be in attendance or else you are in violation of the law, they MUST be paid by the state to keep them there where they can have eyes kept on them, a system MUST be made that makes them provide meals for young people despite their negligent parents' ability to pay for them to eat.

That isn't an education system. It's a violent monopoly that forcefully redistributes public funds, gives the state control and custody over minors during the day, and just privileges certain people in the system. It's not about education of children, at all. It's about monopoly.

An education system should exist to allow an individual to develop at the pace that is correct for them, and only the individual can tell them that. Education at the speed of whatever's convenient for a teacher's union and ideologues in the bureaucracy is not justice nor is it a proper way to create a knowledgeable and intelligent society.

A school can take credit for the education of that child, if that child utilizes the school resources to advance their development. The system we have, it's no different from some sort of patriarchy that the progressives are always yammering about, where the academic success is arbitrarily attributed to how good the dad is at being a dad if they do good, but it's the student's fault if they fuck up.

Our public school system is designed to be incredibly inefficient not for the sake of young people, but for the sake of the system's monopoly over their lives for a window of time. It's not about education, it's about power and control. Legally putting the state on the hook to put them in seats for X-hours a day for Y number of days a year, no matter the outcomes, deliberately fostering weakness.

And here's a great big scary idea: Make it possible to graduate early, and for them to not be beholden to the school anymore.

Do you understand how hard I would've tried if I knew I could just get ages 6 to 18 over and done with and not just have another day of drudgery to look forwards to!? Another ten papers of busywork that offered opportunities to fail and permanently marr my record that I couldn't ever get back or retake? Another test that could tank my academic records and force me to take the whole year over again?

Our education system is ass backwards and horrible and I fucking hate it. It isn't designed to empower and educate people, it's designed to justify a too-big-to-fail system that argues it deserves power over other peoples' children as state property X-hours of the day, and opens them up to vectors of manipulation and exploitation and violence that we just tolerate because we're NOT ALLOWED to be intolerant towards the system's vulnerabilities and exploits.

[cdwalkman-d-e340]

dependence on the internet

i really do wish we could go back to being less dependent on the internet and smart devices for our every day lives but even navigating university is incredibly inconvenient for those who do not have access to (or choose to live without) a personal laptop or smartphone. why are even the washing machines linked to an app to be able to use? I understand why classwork and everything like that is online because that makes sense, but attendance codes needing you to scan a qr code or enter a code into a website seems so redundant. I don't know what I'm trying to say here but i do just mourn a more simpler time where everyone would go to the library together to work on assignments on the desktop computers.

[nyoaeuikhoudu]

Elite Force highschool hc's

stealing this idea from @texanmarcusdavenport because I too have headcannons that I must scream into the void.

Centium city is located close enough to Logan High that the kids all go there. Bree and Chase changed their last names so they can go to Logan without being recognized. Their alias last name is "Douglas" because they're not creative and it's hilarious to see their teachers meet Douglas Douglas during conferences.

While the bionic teens are well known around the world, there wasn't quite as much coverage of them in the Philly area because it wasn't super local, so Bree and Chase are able to fly under the radar easier since they're not household names around here.

Idk if yall know what this is, but I feel like it would be fun to have their school structured under the academy system. In short, along with required core classes like math and english, you have to pick an area of interest or career for your other classes. You get cords for completing courses in your academy and most of your electives will be centered around that area of study, plus it helps with college applications.

As always, we'll do this in alphabetic order

Bree:

After much deliberation, she decided on the Natural Resources and Agriculture academy (green). She originally wanted to do Human Services and join ROTC for drill, but Chase wouldn't let her because that would draw too much attention to them.

- her adhd makes it difficult to retain information, so she struggles with classwork, especially lectures.

- in the gifted program w/ Oliver (Chase is jealous lol) no, the gifted program is not based on grades, it's IQ based.

- not super interested in her academy, mostly just in it for the field trips.

- thrives in English classes, can whip out a grade A essay in 20 minutes.

- expert procrastinator, usually doing her homework the morning it's due or in between classes

Chase:

Part of the Business and Computer Technology academy (blue). Though he'd probably thrive more in Engineering, he mostly just joined to work towards inheriting Davenport Industries like Donald wants him to.

- very booksmart

- sacrificed his perfect GPA for maintaining cover. (He's sitting at 3.5, though he's definitely capable of 4.0)

- not the most social, trying his best to lay low.

- started working the schools coffee shop and snack hut for the finance side of things

- refused to test for the gifted program, pissed that Bree did behind his back despite his insistence that they don't draw attention to themselves.

Connie/Skylar:

Part of the Arts and Communications academy (purple). While she's not particularly skilled in the arts, she does enjoy marching band and likes spending time with Jordan and Gus (who are also both in AnC, art and film respectively.)

- gets decent grades. B average

- took an interest in theatre after Gus's Skylar Storm movie, and now helps out on tech.

- works the booth for shows, light design and helps out with mic checks

- surprisingly good at history for an alien- she convinced Chase to join her at history bowl and their team obliterated the other schools.

- involved in multiple sports, namely wrestling and dance team, but colour guard is still her favourite.

- so used to the name Connie that she doesn't even realise when people call her that outside of school, though the twins still slip up and call her Skylar in class.

Kaz:

Part of Health Sciences academy (red) to help with work, though he's less serious about it. If given a choice, he'd choose not to belong to any academy and just go home. He focuses more on the sports injury side of things, learning how to prevent injury rather than treat it for the most part.

- his grades don't reflect his intelligence

- struggles in class due to his adhd

- the only reason he's not failing his medical courses is because Oliver helps keep him on task

- tried three other academies before MM, none seemed to fit him best.

- the only elective he takes outside of HnS is shop, he especially loves welding and blacksmithing.

Oliver:

Also in the Health Sciences academy (red). Though he originally joined because of Mighty Med, he actually found a love for field, focusing on the Medical side. He's been taking extra science classes for fun along with academy courses.

- gets good grades, but definately not perfect.

- terrible at anything that requires math

- builds study dates into his schedule to spend time with Kaz and help him learn the material.- has been in the gifted program since elementary school.

- was originally part of AnC with the rest of his friend group, but switched early his sophomore year when he started working at MM

- still participates in band, playing the oboe for concert and marimba for marching season.

Ages:

Skylar is a senior, everyone else is a junior.