#having depraved thoughts about what Id love to do to you

[servicedaddy]

Can you really say you love women if they don't turn you into an absolute mess with carnal lust?

[dolldefiler]

haii !!

since we're being petty, i haven't held back on my pt2 of my previous ask >:)

i'm really sorry people are choosing to give you such abuse. continue to remember that we love you work and all of us depraved sluts would miss you so much if you quit for good :(

(i'm pretty certain my pt1 was posted on the 23rd if you've forgotten!)

 "ah not today sweetheart"

i look up sweetly, and my hands go to undo my shirt, but you grab them roughly, somehow able to hold both of my small wrists in one hand 's grasp. "are you this much of a desperate slut? always wanting my dick aren't you? who would know tha such a cute, innocent and humble little girl is ths needy"

i squirm and blush; daddys so amazing and strong, noone compares to my owner. i'd then whimper slightly, my pussys wet and throbbing, begging for attention. the attention of my one and only master and soulmate.  daddy's other hand goes to my ankles and takes off my panties, which id pulled down in haste to tease myself earlier. you'd dangle them in front of me, "they"re soaked sweetheart, were you this horny for daddy?" .

i try to move my arms but master's singular hand has me utterly restrained. "yes daddy... i couldn't help myself.. i'll be better, i'll be a.. a goodgirl for you i promise. i'm really sorry. i just wanted to feel good ".

i see you frown and suddenly, your hands are at my throat again. harder this time.

 "'feel good' hm? you wanted to 'feel good' without me? you're my fucktoy, understand? you're here to make me feel good, baby. if my little girl wants to feel 'good', she'll have to beg for my permission. do i make that clear?"

you tighten your grip until i can barely muster an "mhm" and you release me. I'd bite my lip, partly in fear and partly in awe of what you'd do next.

 "good slut, now open. yes, sweetie, your mouth. open wide.. yeah, that's my good girl" you put your two fingers in my mouth and i instinctively suck on them. daddy's fingers feel so good inside my  little droolhole. you push them further down my throat and i feel myself gagging slightly. daddy would then pull  his fingers out from my mouth. "stick your tongue out", you'd tell me and i do as i'm told immediately, feeling my pussy throbbing more, demanding attention and getting wetter with each command. "further." i do so and daddy spits in my mouth. "swallow" - i gulp, swallowing master's spit,  and then show daddy that his delicious spit is gone. "what do we say?" i look down at your dick and then back up at your face - "th-thank you master"

 "aw, does my favourite whore want daddy's dick to violently fuck her? is that what you were thinking about when you decided to touch yourself, hm?" without even waiting for my pathetic response, you push your hard and aching dick into my pussy. daddy watches my face intently as he does so, witnessing the exact moment of pain when your dick stretches my tight little pussy out all at once. you're as deep as possible, and i cant believe my pussys taken all of your dick this quickly. it hurts slightly but you're grabbing my ass to pull me close so that you can ensure every delicious and devastating inch of your dick is inside me, cosy against my walls.

master smiles at me and pats my head momentarily, allowing me to cockwarm him for a few moments and for me to adjust to his enormous presence inside me. then suddenly, his hands come back to my throat and hes thrusting into me. hard. fast. mercilessly. i feel as though i'm watching my body be fucked and abused in third-person. my uncontrollably wet pussy covers your cock in my slick, , allowing you to submerge yourself in and out of my tight little pussy. father's fucking against my walls faster and.. it feels so good, i don't want daddy to stop, but something about the way you're using my body, thrusting into me as hard as you can makes me want to scream out and beg you to free me, to stop fucking my pussy. maybe the thought of me actively telling, begging and pleading with you to stop and you not listening, too engrossed in fucking your way to heaven, turns me on even more. the decision to ignore a slut's cries for help as you fuck me with violent hunger in your eyes, as if you'd devour me whole. you're raping me.

the realisation of what i want hits hard, making me clench around your abusive cock. i hear master's grunts of pleasure as he continues to fuck my even-tighter pussy, and my mind is blank.... i know that you'd gladly eat me alive, perhaps biting your innocent little princess until you draw blood,  and then you'd blame me for being such a mindless whore. a slut that teases her pussy without permission...

daddy would kiss down from my neck to my tits, biting, licking and sucking them. my nipples get so excited when daddy licks and sucks them, it sends shivers down my spine. you're still fucking me, my whole body jutting with each hard thrust. i cant stop myself from whimpering and moaning in pleasure as you vigorously push yourself deeper inside me, withdrawing and then crashing into my depths once more, hitting my pleasure spots each time. my nipples are erect and you lick them. i feel you withdraw from me and i go to cry out, not wanting you to stop using my pink little fuckhole. but, you rise up and drag your tip along my tits, against my nipples, making my pussy throb and almost reach orgasm - without me even touching my little pleasure bean. as daddy teases me with his delicious tip, he'd whisper praises to me: "yeah, you like this? such a good fuckin whore aren't you, baby?.. what's that? you want daddy to put his dick between your tits?" you grab my throat again briefly, as if reminding me of your strength, before grabbing my hands and placing them on my tits, making me squeeze them together around your huge dick. "just like that baby, yeah.. i'm so.. fuck.. i'm so proud of my little girl". i blush again, wanting to rub my clit so badly, but both of my hands are preoccupied. daddy's slipping his dick between my tits, fucking them.

daddy's tip looks so perfect, so lickable and pretty. i go to spit on it, drool covering my chin and your dick simultaneously. my tits are sticky and i watch in excitement as i see daddy's precum emerge from his dick. i whisper (in fear) "um. please can.. daddy cum all... over me?"

you slap my face, hard. "i'll cum wherever the fuck i want, understand? you're my bitch okay? i fucking own you, baby. you and that little fucking pussy" as daddy says this, he puts his fingers inside my pussy. i whimper loudly, my hips bucking up. master would lean back, still fingering me and watching me as i writhe in pure heavenly pleasure. you slide your fingers out of my pussy and make me suck on them briefly before you push me down and position yourself above me. daddy starts to jerk off over me. i watch his glistening dick, admiring his veins and his big hands around his even bigger dick. daddy stops fingering me, moving his hands to squeeze the perky spheres on my chest, then playing with your balls above me.

i begin to finger myself, i can't help it. i'm such a needy slut for my master. daddys jerking himself off faster, his heavy breathing and grunts turn me on so much. "baby, i 'm gonna cum, open fucking wide" . i open my mouth and euphoria hits as daddys delicious cum covers my face. i swallow what's landed in my mouth, (it tastes so good..!) and look up at him as i finger fuck myself faster, my legs shaking as i'm about to cum. quickly, master replaces my fingers with his. daddys fingers are so much bigger than mine and you fingerfuck me deeper and more violently, i'm cumming on your fingers and i whimper and scream in our bed.  i can't muster a word or thought as i lie next to my owner, breathing heavily, my ass is glistening. my pussy drools from its defeat.

i'm so glad my daddy caught me playing with my pussy today :)

-UnicornSparkleSlut

Hallo again, miss Unicorn. As ever, you continue to grace my asks with your wonderful writing. If anyone's curious, this is the part 1, she's referring to.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Other Half Part Eighteen

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Warnings: Angst and fluff

It’s a way to get his attention. You’re not even sure that it’ll work. So far, nothing else has. 

--

You’d tried reminding Bruce that you need to talk, like he said you would. You still have things that you need to hash out, questions that you want answered. But something always seems to come up: Commissioner Gordon calls you in to ask additional questions; Bruce spends his nights out thwarting muggings, robberies, and his days sleeping, or tracking down the boss of those thugs that kidnapped you. 

Your opposite schedules have never seemed so stark to you before. With so much that you want to talk about and so little time to do it, you can’t even justify asking him to sit with you for five minutes—because everything that you want to talk about with him is going to take so much longer, and you both know it. 

--

He’d been on his way out when you’d mentioned needing to grab something to bring to Liz’s party that night.

“Something like what?” Bruce asked, hardly looking up from the papers that Alfred had handed him. You’d bitten the inside of your cheek, trying to quell your annoyance. 

“I don’t know…Flowers, wine…A succulent? Something?” 

“Sounds good.” 

“...Bruce,” You leaned into it, your irritation getting the better of you. It was only worse when he dropped the papers onto the kitchen counter to reach into his pocket. You watched him fish out his wallet out and leaf through it. You’d expected him to pass over some cash. 

He’d put his black AmEx on the counter. 

Before you had a chance to question his actions, he was taking the papers up again and rounded the counter. He’d murmured, “Love you,” And pressed a speedy kiss to your cheek before he’d gone on his way. 

You’d stared down at the card, the feeling of dissatisfaction growing heavy in your stomach as you mumbled, "Love you, too," To an empty room.

-- 

You’d started with the gift for Liz and passed Bruce’s card over almost hesitantly. You expected questions, a request for ID, but—nothing. The shop attendant swiped it, smiled, and told you that the flowers would be ready to pick up at 8. 

You’d been on your way out of the shop when you’d gotten a text from Bruce: 

$350 for flowers? 

Sounds a little small for Liz

Your brows had jumped up, lips twisting in irritation. That had certainly gotten his attention. 

-- 

You’re sure that this is going to get his attention, too. Your stomach squirms as the shop attendant rings up item after item after item after item after item—

“Holy shit, girlie,” Michelle breathes beside you, practically hanging over the counter to watch the items’ cost tally up. Always up to be your partner in depravity, it hadn't taken much to convince Michelle to go on this little shopping spree with you. You don’t dare look at her, or, the cost; you’re certain that her eyes are about as wide as dinner plates. You’re just listening to the incessant beep of the barcode scanner and the tap of computer keys are you wring your hands. It’s too early for the remorse to set in, you think. You haven’t really done any damage yet…Hell, you can still tell the shop attendant that you've changed your mind—

“That’ll be $24,395.22.” 

The attendant’s voice is chipper and bright, rattling the total off as if the store does numbers like that every damn day. Hell, maybe they do. Specie is one of the most expensive shops in Gotham, the likes of which you’d never thought you’d ever be able to go to. You’d expected to be followed around like criminals, but maybe the shop attendant recognized you from the tabloids. She’d kept her distance as you and Michelle perused the shelves.

And now, as you pass Bruce’s card over to her, her eyes widen slightly at the name of the piece of plastic. You clear your throat when she doesn’t swipe it right away, and her cheeks go pink as you raise your brows. She tucks it into the card reader it wordlessly, and the three of you wait with baited breath as the machine does its work. She finally pulls it back with a bright smile, holding it out to you. 

“Will you be needing help getting it to your car?” 

“Uh…” You glance toward the sea of bags, nodding. “Yeah, I think we will.” 

Alfred’s eyes widen marginally as he rounds the back door to the trunk, opening it for the shop attendants to load your purchases inside. You tuck your hands in your pockets, fingers grasping the phone. You wait for the buzz of a text, but you feel nothing. Alfred nods to the attendants as they head back inside, closing the trunk. 

“Will we be making any more stops?” He glances between you and Michelle with a small, conspiratorial smile. Michelle’s lips curl into an almost devious smile. 

“Well, I don’t know,” She turns to look at you. “Do you have anything to wear tonight?” 

You do, you actually already have an outfit picked out. But you wait a few more moments, and when you don’t feel your phone buzz still, you shake your head. 

“You know what, no,” You shift your gaze from Michelle’s to Alfred’s. “I don’t think I do.” 

-- 

“Could you excuse us?” 

Your heart drops into your stomach as you hear Bruce’s voice, and feel him take hold of your hand. You'd arrived at the party alone, and you've been on-edge, waiting for Bruce to walk through the door. Now, it seems that he's slipped in quietly, and it feels like you haven't had time to brace yourself. Liz smiles, winking at you and warning, “If you’re gonna fuck in the bathroom again, be quick about it. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

You let Bruce lead you away from the conversation, steering you through the party. You can only get a look at the back of his head; he doesn’t turn to look at you, or to tell you where you’re going. He finally pulls you into a room, shutting the door behind the two of you. You glance around, taking in the small study as Bruce flips the light on. You fold your arms across your chest, forcing a stern expression. You’re ready for him to be mad, to ask you what the hell you were thinking, but…

But when Bruce turns around, he’s…Smiling. You can’t help but frown deeply. He looks happy? How dare he look so happy when you’ve felt so miserable all day. 

“...What’s that face for?” You ask. 

“You had a busy afternoon.” 

“I…Got a few things.” 

“You spent nearly $50,000 in three hours,” He chuckles. 

“And you’re not mad about it?” Your brow furrows. “You, like, hated how much I spent on the flowers for Liz.” 

“...Hated it?” Bruce shakes his head. “I was kidding.” 

Your mouth forms a small confused o as you glance away. 

“...I guess I read the tone of your text wrong.” 

“So you went on a spending spree?” 

You sigh, turning away from Bruce and walking more deeply into the study. 

“You weren’t responding to anything else,” You grumble, leaning back against the desk and looking down at your shoes (your new shoes—they’re a little tight, but they match your new dress). 

“What do you mean?” 

“We’ve needed to talk for weeks and we haven’t. I spent that money on the flowers and you answered, like, immediately.” 

It’s a moment before you hear Bruce come closer. His shoes come into view after a few moments, and he reaches out, sliding his hands over your hips. 

“I know I said that we’d talk, but…” 

But. But didn’t sound good. 

“I didn’t make the time for it. That’s not fair to you.” Bruce gave your hips and gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.” 

You look up at him finally, relieved to find genuine remorse riddling his features. You raise a hand, cupping his cheek. 

“Can we talk tonight?” You implore. “Please?” 

Bruce nods, giving your hips a gentle squeeze. “Yes.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Okay,” You smile, relieved. “Thank you.” 

Bruce leans in, kissing you warmly. You hum, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders, giggling as Bruce crowds closer. 

“Bruce,” You warn softly as he eases you back onto the desk, hips pressing against yours. “Liz said dinner would be ready soon.” 

“I’ll be fast.” 

“Well that’s just what every girl wants to hear.” 

-- 

“Most of this seems…Oddly practical,” Bruce admits, looking around at the purchases that Alfred has taken out of the bags and laid out in one of the mansion’s sitting rooms. “I’m not sure if I’m more impressed or disappointed.” 

“Well what did you expect me to do? Just point at the most expensive, random shit and say, ‘that one’?” 

“Hell, that’s what I would’ve done.” 

You snort, scrubbing your hand over your face. 

“I’ll sort through what’s yours and what’s mine later.” 

“You got things for me?” Bruce’s brows raise. 

“Of course I did. You, and Alfred…A couple of things for Michelle and the apartment.” 

“...Let’s start there,” Bruce rounds to sit on the couch beside you. You raise your brows as he grasps your legs, drawing them up into his lap. You smile as he undoes the strap on one of your shoes, the then other. You wiggle your toes, flexing and pointing them as you lean back against the arm of the couch. 

“Start with my shoes?” You tease.

“Start with you moving in.” 

Your stomach flips, and you have to bite back a smile. 

“Okay,” You agree, nodding. “What about me moving in?” 

“You essentially have already, but you’re still giving Michelle rent.” 

“Well,” You raise your hand, scrubbing it across the back of your neck. “I’ve still got stuff over there, and I…Still go there.” 

“To visit.” 

“...Yeah,” You sigh. “I can’t, um…I mean, I shouldn’t officially move out just yet, not until Mish can find a new roommate or a new apartment.” 

“Alright,” Bruce concedes. “What else?” 

“I guess, well…” You lower your gaze to your lap. “The kids…Thing.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you want them? I mean, ever?” Your gaze flickers nervously toward Bruce. You don’t see the same fretful contemplation as you’d seen after the kidnapping. Bruce’s gaze is set ahead of himself, almost unfocused. 

“...I still don’t know,” He finally admits, turning his head toward you a little. “The thought of having a child, of the two of you being in danger…” His hand flexes around your ankle before he gently sweeps the bone with his thumb. “I don’t know what I’d do. I wouldn’t be able to think straight.” 

You consider for a moment before you draw your legs off of Bruce’s lap. He seems startled by the movement, but relaxes as you shift closer on the couch, cuddling into his side. 

“For what it’s worth, I know what you mean,” You rest your head on his shoulder, curling your arm around his middle. “I don’t like thinking about you being in danger, either.  And I wouldn’t want to put a kid through…What happened.” You still can’t quite talk about it. Bruce’s arm tightens around your middle as he presses his face into your hair. You bite your lip before you tip your chin up. 

“I guess…Well,” You draw in a deep breath to quell your nerves. “Are you going to do this…Forever?” 

“Do what?” 

“What you do, Bruce,” You draw away from him to get a better look at him. “Are you going to be Batman forever? I mean, when does it stop?” 

“When Gotham is safe.” 

“And when will that be?” 

“This city needs me.” 

“And I don’t?” You snap.

His lips purse in upset, his jaw going tight. You guiltily lower your gaze to your lap, raising your hand and resting your head against it. 

“Okay,” You concede softly. “Maybe we just…Put a pin in that one.” 

Bruce reaches out, taking hold of your other hand. 

“It’s a lot to think about.” 

“I know,” You nod. “Just…As long as we’re both actually thinking about it.” 

“We are.” 

“Okay.” You swallow thickly, glancing over toward a few of the stacks of things. “By the way, not everything I got was practical. I bought you a grappling hook.” 

“You what?” 

“It seemed like the kind of thing that you’d use.” 

“I do.” 

“I wouldn’t use the one that I got you, though, it’s, like…An antique. Kind of more of a statement piece.” 

“Okay,” He chuckles, and you relax as the air seems to lighten. “How much did that cost?” 

“I have no idea, sorry. I’ll give you your card back.” 

“There’s no need.” 

“Of course there is.” 

“No, there isn’t.” 

“It’s yours, Bruce.” 

“It’s yours, too.” 

Your brow furrows with confusion. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I added you to the account.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, lips parting and working wordlessly for a few moments. 

“I—Bruce, why would you do that?” 

He chuckles softly, smoothing his thumb along your hand. 

“So that you can get anything you need, baby. I’d say today was a good start.”

"Oh my god," You groan, turning your face into your hand. "Today was an awful start."

"That's not true. You got me a grappling hook. And did I see a new trug?"

"Yeah. It's a little longer. Alfred mentioned needing more room for his lilies."

"He's going to love it."

Next Part

[saotoru]

FUCKKK I WAS THE ANON WITH THE SOFTDOM TO LIGHT SUB LEON AND LET ME TELL U UR SO RIGHT!!! i Get it so hard omf... i have more thoughts that i need to throw at you and then run away.

okay so older leon- di or id- making you upset and trying to apologize for it over dinner; however you still wont budge. so, when you come home (still in your dress and heels) (him in his suit too) (coz its just hotter that way) you punish him by sitting on the couch and having him eat you out!! and on any other day he would be JOYOUS to do so but you push your shoe on his crotch and make him rut into the red heels HE bought for you. he's so embarrassed and feels so perverted for getting off to this but... how could he not? MWUAHAHA !!!

HELLO I LITERALLY LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! YOUR MIND IS SOSOSO BIG

fuck he would look so pretty with his head tossed back, propped up on the couch cushion with a fistful of his hair in your hand, looking up at you with big, apologetic eyes </33 this is the most you’ve acknowledged him all night; you were silent at dinner, silent on the car ride home, and he wasn’t about to screw this chance up. he knew what he was in for the moment you pushed him back onto the couch and hovered over him with your dress hiked up past your hips. apologies won’t fix what he did, won’t undo what he said earlier, so leon has no choice but take it when you press your cunt to his mouth and fuck his face.

he’s so good too, meeting the rolls of your hips with desperate licks to your pussy as well, moaning when you sharply tug on his hair. and at first, leon thinks he’s doing a good job—but that’s until the sole of your foot comes down on the bulge of his pants and he lets out a strained groan. even through the layers separating you—your heels, his slacks—you can feel hes achingly hard. he feels embarrassed when you coo getting off on being stepped on like a slut? you’re so depraved, baby. he shouldn’t be liking this, shouldn’t let his hips buck and hump at your foot of all things but your attention feels so fucking good and the humiliation of it all makes his body run hot and his cock throb. he’s leaking so much pre, making a wet mess of his underwear from getting stepped on like a bitch and all he can do is whimper into your pussy. he paws at the backs of your thighs, clutching onto you leg while you use him, reduce him down to the fucktoy he is, and maybe if he cums from this you’ll accept his apology <333

[kisara-kaiba]

OKAY THE KINKY BLUES HAS ME INTRIGUED PLEAAASE HEAR ME OUT ON SUGGESTIONS/BRAINSTORMING/HOPES/DREAMS. alright so it cant be in Temptation, the kink requires its own pocket dimension, first of all. as the biggest fanboygirl of their cycle of dominance and submission im gonna start off with that. a really fun and naturally flowing dom-sub dynamic for them is born in ancient egypt. if set put her aside as his property and tried to experiment with her ka with slowly increasing pressure whilr kisara was like "this kind man who saved me twice feeds me and shelters me who cares if hes tying me down and writing spells on my skin lol" it goes apeshit from there. TWO-this can be from many modern aus with little work, basically an in love blueship that seemlessly slipped into a dom-sub dynamic consciously switching it up a lil. whether that has seto giving orders while tied up on his knees or kisara begging to tie him up would be..that would go BRRRR. THREE. biting kink. straight up. no notes. id be fine with a 400 word introspective of either of one of them watching the bite marks they left on the other and their feelings about it. id settle. itd be enough.

how we feeling. any of thesr sound desirable. wanna brainstorm more. ill come knocking at your door like an unhinged mormon. anyway wanna tell you regardless, absolutely no pressure what you may or may not end up writing i just wanted to yell at someone about kinky blues, have a great day

S C R E E C H I NG this is why ily blueshipping king you just get my vision <333 that ancient Egypt idea has got me going f e r a l just thinking about it and i’ve thought for so long that i should write some mizushipping at some point anyway so yesssss. also biting is uh. yes please.

anyway okay now you got me started so strap in because this is gonna be a long ramble. so i feel like there’s several points about how i imagine their dynamic that i have to unpack here (putting it under a cut bc length or if ppl are uncomfy with this stuff)

↓↓↓

i am unfortunately boring in the way that i’ll ultimately always wanna write Seto as the dominant one just bc of my own personal preferences. BUT that obv doesn’t mean Kisa wouldn’t have a fair amount of control over the situation, both bc a healthy dom/sub dynamic requires it in terms of consent and boundaries ofc, but also bc a) Seto is so extreme in his need for Kisara’s explicit permission to do basically anything to her (even the vanilla stuff) because he’s so painfully precious about her well-being and also constantly plagued by not feeling worthy of her and b) while i think Kisa wants to be dominated i think she also realllly enjoys the control of knowing she’s got Seto wrapped around her little finger and could make him do any depraved thing she wants to her just by looking at him in the right way. so yeah i think they both know who’s really in control behind the scenes lol

i’m also DYING to get into Seto’s inevitable mental struggle to reconcile his thoughts and feelings of “she is a perfect goddess and i’m a mere mortal unworthy of even looking at her let alone touch her” and “i’d die to protect her and if anyone hurts her i’ll fucking kill them” vs his desire to be the one who gets to take this perfect goddess and make her submit to him, kneel before him, own and control and ruin her perfectly (because if there’s one thing we all know about Seto Kaiba is that he’ll make sure the divine yields to him, and not the other way around). I guess the key things there is that he alone is allowed to hurt her and no one else.

On this note i do however think Seto would be so conflicted about physically hurting Kisa, even if she very clearly and explicitly wants him to, because he just struggles with being so overprotective of her and not wanting to see her injured or in pain. but this would also be delicious to write him being all conflicted due to the guilt of causing her pain vs the fact that doing so is super fucking hot and he can’t resist doing it, esp not when she’s literally begging him to. Taking all of his frustrations after a long day out on her more than willing body would be so cathartic and tempting but also associated with so much guilt and worry about getting too into it and going too far.

I also definitely see Kisa as being the more extreme of them, to the point where i can actually see her be just a little bit unhealthily masochistic because she doesn’t really value herself due to past trauma, giving her a self-destructive streak and kinda fucked-up notions along the lines of ultimately being deserving of pain and suffering, that someone hurting her equals caring about her and wanting her, and that the ultimate thing she can do to show someone that she really loves and trusts them is to just offer herself up completely to use and do whatever they want to, which Seto would have to try to handle and mitigate because he’s ultimately not gonna let her use him to actually really hurt herself (and you know it would also break his heart a thousand times over to realise just how little she values and cares about herself due to her fucked up past). But I could also write it kinda funny in that whole “sub suggesting increasingly violent/fucked up things while the dom goes ‘idk that’s scary’” lmao. I think Kisa is a bit annoyed that people (especially Seto) tend to see her as this fragile, porcelain flower and wants to prove that she is perfectly capable of taking a (consensual) beating.

Outside of strictly sexual stuff i can also see Kisa as very much an ‘everyday/domestic acts of service’ kinda sub who just wants to bring Seto his coffee when he’s working and a drink when he comes home from work and make sure to always wash and iron his clothes and put them out before he leaves in the morning, tying his tie before he leaves and untying it when he gets home and cooking and serving his meals for him (which tbh wouldn’t just be about her being submissive but also bc she just wants to make sure he actually takes care of himself with like, eating and taking coffee breaks bc you know that man doesn’t take care of himself if left unchecked). And I think this also ties in with her sense of self-worth being tied to being useful and helping others because she doesn’t really see herself as valuable unto herself, but also maybe acts of service is just kinda her “love language” too. i feel like this is the sort of thing i could maybe include in Temptation bc she’s already pretty much like this there, with to me pretty obvious undertones that her working as Seto’s assistant is definitely triggering a submissive side in her.

Temptation also has the whole thing with Seto secretly enjoying Kisa wearing her KaibaCorp pin while working because it marks her as his for the world to see, and I definitely feel like that’d be a thing for him too. Branding her, either by things like visible bite marks/hickeys that she’s not allowed to cover up or something like a discreet necklace that is actually a collar (although tbf, with the fashion we see in the Yugioh universe, would anyone even blink at a BDSM-style collar? Like Yugi’s already wearing fetish gear as his everyday clothes lmao). I mean, Seto’s already pretty big on putting his branding on literally everything, so Kisa would be no exception (also imagine the ridiculous extravagance and amount of money and care Seto would put into a collar for Kisa).

While I’m not really into the idea of Seto being submissive per se, I do think both he and Kisa could easily have praise kinks because they both crave validation in their own ways and for someone to telling them that they’re doing/being good (Seto wouldn’t admit that though, but if I allow for some submissiveness on his part I think being called a good boy could fix him). But with him as the dom it also totally tracks for him to make Kisa worship him and stroke his ego in that way. On that theme, however, I could also imagine him making her allow him to worship her as a kind of ‘punishment’ bc he knows she has a hard time accepting that but that it’s also something that’s good for her to hear.

Also I can totally see Kisa being a little bratty as a sub sometimes because she likes to talk back to Seto and be deliberately cheeky, disrespectful and provocative (both because she enjoys the control of getting him riled up and because she knows that the more she gets him worked up the more forceful and intense he’ll be about putting her back into place afterwards).

Okay so this turned into a fic-chapter length essay about this topic instead of actually writing the fic (bc *ofc* i’d do that) but please lmk what you think!!! (and hopefully i'll use your ideas + my rambling and turn in into fic eventually)

[dreamii-yume]

idk if ur into bl but there’s a rlly good game called “slow damage” by nitro chiral. they’re the same company who made dramatical murder…so if you know. then you know how this game will play out 😭 but i’m pretty sure slow damage is more of their darker games.

it’s not free, but for what it’s worth (about $20 usd), id say i don’t regret buying it myself. i think it would fit right into your ally bc when i’m talking dark content…i mean it! if i remember correctly, it follows a depressed desk worker (bc ofc) who’s also a painter trying to get some cash yk?? and the cool thing about the mc is he has the ability to see people’s deepest darkest desires, which he uses as inspo to create art.

and this game is not afraid about getting depraved 😅 one of my fav characters (besides the mc bc i actually love him) is this dude named madarame, iirc??? and he’s every masochists wet dream 🫣 don’t @ me for that lmfaooo

it’s such a wild game!! i loved the nsfw scenes so much, i encourage you to look up some of the cutscene art bc it’s genuinely so beautiful 😩 there’s always some kind of blood involved and they’re usually banging at some decrypt place that prolly stinks so hard. despite all of that, the mc always looks like he’s on cloud nine, even when he’s chained up and bleeding profusely 😳

and it’s not just the nsfw scenes that has me drooling, but the story itself is intensely gripping??? like i’m hooked from beginning to end. and this is coming from someone who studied/s classical lit or literature in general…dunno if that holds any substance, but trust me when i say i’ve read countless of books and consumed enough media that it’s tantamount to mt kilimanjaro, but by far slow damage is one of the best visual novel games i’ve ever had the pleasure of playing 😖 usually vn games have good art and spicy scenes, but never plot. but this game blew my exception. so if you’re not much into how gorey it can get (bc the spicy scenes are low-key eroguro 80% of the time) then i’d say go for the story. it’s an absolute gem and thought provoking.

anyway sorry for the long rant 😭 this game is my guilty pleasure and idk if you’ve heard of it or what, but i don’t hear many people talk about it!! if you like euphoria, slow damage is not graphic in the same way, but it’s definitely dark and they’re not afraid to show the pleasure that comes from the pain 🫣

ps…in terms of yandere themes, idk if i’m remembering anything right bc it’s been a hot min, but it’s not really set in canon or directly in the game whether the yandere trope is applicable. but ngl, almost all characters display some kind of yandere characteristic where they’ll say the craziest shit and do something 10x crazier 😭 i mean if it wasn’t evident enough with some of them tying down and forcing themselves on the mc, then idk what is 🤔 but yes, it does get super intense!! highly recommend it, if i haven’t expressed that enough. they also have the opening soundtrack on youtube if you just look up slow damage op!! the soundtrack in general is actually good and fits with the vibes.

☠️☠️☠️

I personally haven’t played Dramatical Murder but during my teenage years, that game’s influence over the internet is ASTRONOMICAL ☠️ So, I always assumed that it’s something crazy, but never really bothered to know anything about it lol (Because I was an edgy little highschool girl who hated men ☠️) I just laugh every time I hear someone talk about it, because they’re so passionate. It’s cute ✨

Man, BL games always has the craziest fucking plot in the visual novel genre, and they always have the craziest characters too!! 😭 Otome games can only hope to have that kind content on their games lol Because eroguro is kind of a taboo topic, right? But I love to see more creative ways into corporating it into “dating” games 🧎‍♀️ This game seems like it checks the right corners of my brain, every single guilty pleasure so I don’t blame you for the enthusiasm! But don’t worry, we don’t judge other people here ☠️

Anyway, I personally haven’t played much BL games in general, (Because I’m personally more of a GL girl because women) and my knowledge of it only comes from friends who really loves them, but this sounds really interesting! Thank you for sharing ♥︎

[ramrodd]

How did Heidegger not fall back in “ontotheology” that he criticized by virtually equating true Being with an apophatic God?

Yes, given his defense of the apophatic god of both  Calvinism and the anti0christ of Hitlerism against Hegel/s Historic Gestalt. Connect the dots between Hegel’s Field  of the Phenomenology of Spirt with Kurt Lewin’s  political FOrce Field Analysis and you’s see what I mean

COMMENTARY: 

don’t think I understand your question and, to the degree I might plumb the subtlety of your thinking, I think your premise is probably wrong.

Your question has help me clarify my own understanding of Heidegger in his context from my perspective. Newton, Kant and Hegel just blew up conventional wisdom between Aristotle and Spinoza. Both sides, idealists and empericists. Among other things, they achieved the synthesis of thought that had been put into motion about the time of Melchizedek and about 1400 years after the Boj of Job was writted. The Bible starts with the Book of Job and proceeds directly to the, which the theological code of law collided with the Roman secular rule of las arising from the ethical basis of Socrates’ example of civil law as the fundamental of a just society. The Romans had a better idea for the most efficacious of self-aware social contract. The critical path of mankind took a 90 degree re-orientation from the Law of Moses as the unique society that believed that history was going some place. Judaism was aesthe pleasing social contract, but, like the Pharoash’s, they were headed into the ozone, sort of like Jew Haley’s new tax burden on the American middleclass in the warfare of the January 6 republicans. The Roman Republic, which connected to the Roman SPQR at Socrates’ civic duty and was a creature of the roman secular rule of law and this form of government was headed to Sace, the Final Frontier. The Critical Pat oof both Jerusalem and the Roman Jesus ult originated with Geneasis 15:5 in terms of what we would call a Mission Statement, like Domino’s Mission Statement, which is my choice as the the best mission statement in the Fortune 500 and, unlike the Harvard MBA program, is based on the smal unit leadership model of the USMC. Jut like the Roman legions.

One of the things I love about Quora is that it allows me to think about things I didn’t have time for in colege. Philosophy and Literature, generally. And ROTC. I couldn’t major in ROTC, in literature because it was easy for me: I loved to read and I like things about the stuff I had read the way you do in the study of literature as cocktail party foreplay. One of the easiest ways to get laid in the 60s was to be able to discuss literature seriously with any woman and unloose the libido engaged. Getting a hard=on reading the Bible is a trope of the Total Depravity Gospel of the Pro-Life Jesus Freaks and, even reading Song of Songs does nothing for me and the Bishop, if you get my drift. But talking about scripture is how a lot of religious professionals get into the habit of sex with parishioners. Most of the good parts of sex happen in the personal psychosis and talking about literature, generally, can go straight to the ID.

What Hegel demonstrates conclusively is that the TULIP doctrine is an instrument of the anti-Christ. It is a subversive element of the strategy The Satan employed to trick God into letting The Satan to fuck with Job for no other reason that to indulge God’s pride of authorship in Job. Twice. And then God jump’s in Job’s shit a third time for impotence. Three time’s God betrayed Job with the same prideful boasting as Peter before he denied Christ three times before the cow crowed twice.

That, buy the say, is an example of the Holy Spirit at work, making the cock crow the second time on cue, if you are keeping score.

Jesus was sent by The One as atonement for fucking with Job 3 times. God promised Noah He wouldn’t destroy Israel by flood, but He didn’t stipulate against fire. Synagogue Socialism was God’s intent for Israel, al along This is the premise of process theology: The Book of Job is God’s promise of perfect Free Will to all born of woman. A consequence of Free Will is that we al emerge from magical thinking into innocent atheism, Hegel is correct about Reason: it is an acquired capacity of consciousness and begins with potty training, when pull-ups give way to the calibration of the Pucker Factor and self-actualization

Total Depravity ends when the mystery of Santa Claus is dispelled. . . The TULIP doctrine of Calvinism is grounded firmly on the Total Depravity of Eve without mitigation of the Cross. It is an excuse by the force of the anti-Christ to violate Free Will with the agony of the stake. The Total Depravity Gospel is a big part of the Jesus Inc business plan based on the Tax Free status of religious organizations as the primary money pump. Hate and Fear are big crowd pleasers in the Fire and Brim Stone branding of American Evangelicals. like Campus Crusade for Christ. .

Hegel bows it out of the water. Which is why people at Yale pretend they don’t understand Hegel when they understood Hegel exactly like William F. Buckley. It is part of the subversive agenda to conceal the shere analytic power of Hegel D-Day is a product of people who employed Hegel to wipe their butts by the numbers.

In any event, I have come to see Heidegger was engaged in a all out defense of Christianity. Hegel and Kant don’t reject Christianity in the least: they, in fact validate the natural divinity of humanity in the Categorical Imperative, with the metaphysically necessary atheism of Hume to ground Reason firmly on the unknowable essence of existence. His rules of evidence proceed from that existential benchmark. In an age when the TULIP doctrine was still hanging witches in America, thanks to the TULIP bias of thePuritans, it was safer to be a Skeptic than an atheist. It was an effective defense against the charge of heresy Kant and Hegel were accused of.

From my point of view, The Old Testament was an rough draft. Jesus was the final product process theology that began with Job. Jesus revises the Ghema to include Plato in the attributes of righteousness with “mind” and then He added the Atheist Clasue “Love Thy Neighbor as Thy Self”, the syntehsis of which abrogates the 624 Lws of the Mishnah and Talmud and justifies the Free Will of atheism as an an ethical behavior. KISS: Keep It Simple. God is perfectly content with atheist who live by the ethic of the Golden Rule, no matter where they heard it first. It is the Tao of the Logos.

All the glossary of Heidegger's inquiry from Being and Ime to his 1043 retranslation of the Greek before Socrates was chosen to refute Hegel., For example, the logos of Dasein was chosen as a deliberate allusion to John 1″1. An you can follow the trajectory of his narrative from an examination of the person in his environment although he didn’t employ that particular linguistic register which would develop out of his narrative. His most important insight alogh the way was the relationship of the mastrr carpenter to his/Her hamer. Again this is a transparent Reference to Jesus the Carpenter and the nature of allegory in Heidegger’s argument. Transparency is the operative word, The hammer represents the authority of the carpenter just as the transparency of the relationship of Jesus to the authority o The One is evident throughout His ministry and is established existentially by He Resurrection from the instrument of the Cross, the instrument of unambiguous due process of the Roman secular rule of law. The Death of Jesus is beyond confusion within the context of Hume’s roles of evidence Pilate’s report of his Resurrection to Rome is simply beyond the slight probability that it didn’t happen: Christianity would have happened without Mark 15, which is a consequence of the entry of the authority of The Noe into history as a consequence of a mundane bureaucratic method of systematic feedback.

The trajectory of logos from being in the world through transparency to metaphor basically validates the Figure of Hegel’s Historic Gestalt. Jesus, as the living, breathing authority of The One , is the logos at the leading edge of the narrative of the Gospel of Mrk. Go on YouBube and pull up an audio video of the Gospel of Mark and play it and wathc the dot of the time—stamp advance from left to right underneath the optics. That dot is the leading edge of the narrative drama paying out in your imagination and is the logos of Heidegger’s Dasein The logos is the point where Heidegger and Hegl are joind at the hp in regards to the divine nature of Jesus. And the Categorical Imperative is the chematic for the Bing in the world of the logos in an “all humans are created equal” andthe individual is creaed in the image of The one in that the gestalt of Human Perception reflects the Gestalt of the Mind of The One.

Heidegger was engaged in what Carl Rogers called “becoming a person”> and his narrative arc defines the epistemological intent of the US Army Ranger School. Heidegger’s problem, in answer to what I think your question infers, was that, by 1943, he was trying to justify Nazi Racial theory by pre=Socratic soial contract He was like Bart Ehrman, motivated by a desire to be popular with the Nazis who made fun of his theology. Like everybody after Newton, Kant and Hegel and before Kurt Lewin stumbled over Group Dynamics., they had no way of reconciling the idealism of Plato with the empiricism of Locke. It’s why linguistics became so important \. There was a great intellectual spasm between Spinoza and Locke and Kurt Lewin that made it possible to put man on the moon

So, in a very real sense, Heidegger was defending the apophatic god of of the TUPIP doctrine, but his ture emphasis, in his heart, was coincident with the irresistible grace of the logos of Jesus. If you understand Hegel like william F. Buckley understood Hegel, the moral confusion that plagued Heidegger evaporates. The thing to rememberis that all metaphor ultimately arils and that Paradox occurs where Metaphor fails. Heidegger’s Dasein runs logos straight into Paradox in 1843, which is exactly who Jesus was: Paradox. Heidegger was the New Age guru of Nazi Germany, but the simply didn’t have the linguistic register to complete the synthesis. His flirtation with Nazi Racial Theory was his defense of the anti-Christ of the apophatic god of Hitlerism.

[deniigi]

bro, work made me depressed that I literally left my seat to regain any resemblance of joy or something equivalent before breaking down again. Do you think you can provide a ficlet I involving Peter and Sam to cheer me up?

FUCK CAPITALISM

TAKE THIS

Title: Calibrating

Summary: Sam and Peter talk themselves towards a meaningful discussion.

---------

Peter did this thing—this infuriating thing where he texted shit like ‘come over’ and then Sam had to bend over backwards to be flirty and coy.

It was imperative that he came across as flirty and coy.

Im-fucking-perative, regardless of what Leilani said or Matt’s annoyance at what he called the ‘jungle of depravity’ that overtook the group chat pretty much daily.

Sam didn’t care.

If Peter texted the group or sent any message that might be construed upside-down as something romantic or sexual, Sam not only had to catch it, but he had to volley it back.

This, he told Leilani, sealed their No-Homo contract.

She stared at him.

He decided to demonstrate.

“See, here, look, I’ll show you,” he said, dragging out his phone. “Exhibit A. There he is, see? Asking about the strength of PVC pipe in pounds per meter like a fuckin’ tease. Now I can’t just let him think that I saw that and didn’t think of it as a metaphor, alright? So I say—”

“Sam, why does he need to know the strength of PVC pipe?” Leilani interrupted.

It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point of this discussion.

“I’m sending a winky-face,” Sam informed her as he did that very thing.

Leilani stared harder than before.

But look, skepticism was unrewarded. Peter texted a kiss right back and said ‘oh boo, you always know just want to say.’

How could she not see the No-Homo? Sam could do this all day. He could and there would be absolutely no problems and he wouldn’t want to suffocate himself in his pillow at the end of it all.

It was fine.

“Samuel,” Leilani said, “I’m going to tell you something and I want you to hear it with an open heart. Will you open your heart for me?”

Sam spun around in his chair and arranged his arms and legs so that they were as open as they could feasibly be without being obscene.

“I am more open than a boiled clam,” he informed her.

Leilani blinked slowly, then shook her head and checked over her shoulders. She waved him in closer. Then closer. And then close enough that he could smell her perfume on her neck.

“You’re the tease,” she said.

Then she left the backroom. And Sam could only stare after her, frozen in horror as his wide-open heart wrinkled in on itself, picking up mass and gravity until it was naught but a black hole.

“I’m the tease?” he whispered to himself in shock.

Oh no.

OH NO.

 --

  “SENSEI.”

Matt dropped his collection of folders and swore, clutching at his chest.

“We have discussed volume, Sam,” he said, bending down to collect his paper children.

Sam took the opportunity to throw both arms around his neck from behind as a threat.

“Don’t lie,” he warned. “Swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, amen.”

Matt stood up and Sam felt his toes leave the floor. He hadn’t planned this far ahead.

“Or what?” Matt asked, 110% unfazed.

Sam wished that his feet weren’t kicking around in air here. It really put a dent in his intimidation factor.

“Am I a tease?” he asked.

Matt faced front with heavy eyebrows. Sam couldn’t see his face from this angle, but he knew that aura of irritation.

“If you have to ask the question, then you already know the answer,” Matt said. “Does that help?”

“No, I hate you now, actually,” Sam told him.

Matt dropped him right on his ass.

 --

 There had to be a way to attain proof. To determine once and for all that it was Sam who was in the wrong here, misinterpreting things like the genius that he was.

Thankfully, Sam’s experience of growing up as a non-only child for the last two decades had prepared him exactly for this type of conversation.

 SC: HANNAH AM I A TEASE???

HC: yes

HC: next question

SC: FUCK.

SC: WHAT IF ITS NOT NO-HOMO?

HC: my dear brother, the only options if something is not no-homo is for it to be no-no or homo-homo.

SC: Murder me

HC: gladly

SC: I’m in possible homo-homo with spiderman

HC: are you sure it’s not no-no?

SC: MURDER ME

HC: okay but like if it’s no-no then this is not a problem, right?

SC: If it’s no-no then I’ve read every sign wrong and I deserve to become a partially eaten tadpole awash in an indifferent boiling sea

HC: okay so we’re leaning INTO the drama today I gotcha. Alright but like, just for the sake of arguing, what if it was homo-homo?

SC: then I need you to bury my body somewhere no one will ever find it because my heart can’t stand requited love you know this about me.

HC: give me your login

SC: thank you I love you you’re the only person who matters

 --

 BT: Spiderman.

SM: Blindspot. DMing? You okay?

BT: this is Hannah.

SM: OH

SM: hi Hannah are you okay? Did you need something?

BT: My brother never got tested for reading comprehension but would have failed anyways. Can you arbitrate an arbitrary argument for us?

SM: I’m positive that there is a link between those two ideas that I am missing, but sure?

BT: okay are you ready?

SM: my loins have been girded.

BT: gross. you two are made for each other. Okay: what are your opinions on 24yo Chinese dudes with bad vision who are 5’7” tall, with terrible hair and brains as big and gaseous as Jupiter?

SM: positive

BT: you’re so romantic spidey.

SM: I know

BT: I’m going to tell him now

SM: WAIT DON’T TELL HIM

BT: byeeeeeee

 --

 Sam was going to have a heart attack. He couldn’t look at his phone. He was just going to lay here until he wasted away into a fossil.

Mm, yes, what a wonderful way to escape any and all feelings. That was—

His phone chirped and he nearly fell out of his chair in a hurry to answer it.

 HC: [image] [image]

HC: you owe me your bones

SC: AFASDFADFAS:FJaf’asdfjahsdlfihasdl’fas

SC: TAKE THEM

HC: if you fuck spiderman you have to get pregnant and demand alimony for your beautiful mixed babies Samuel

SC: Darling sister, we’ve talked about this. it isn’t going to happen I still have yet to steal a womb

HC: try harder

HC: ttyl

--

 Okay, this was fine.

Everything was fine.

Spidey liked Sam back, it was no big deal. Spidey liked everyone back. Even the teases.

Even.

The.

Teases.

Fuck, Sam had to move.

 --

 Foggy caught him biting his nails to pieces over the copy machine and asked him if he was okay. He was not. Foggy could read this off him. He didn’t ask again, but he did say that if Sam was feeling particularly anxious about something he was welcome to go have his breakdown upstairs in Kirsten’s kitchen instead of downstairs among the files.

Sam appreciated his offer. He hiked up the stairs, and halfway up, his phone chirped.

His heart stopped.

It chirped again, and then again. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, it was chirping every couple of seconds with messages being typed and sent at mach speed.

He kicked off his shoes and went to go stand over Kirsten’s sink to open the first one.

  PP: Sam it’s peter hey listen your sister messaged me

PP: and was asking some pretty invasive questions and I replied to her. I don’t know if you saw them but I just wanted to say that if that makes you uncomfortable in any way know that I absolutely don’t mind and I’ll stop

PP: you can tell me to fuck off if that crossed your boundaries. I shouldn’t have even messaged her back without asking you

PP: and obviously in future I won’t talk to her until I’ve cleared it with you I just wasn’t thinking I’m never thinking it’s a little hard to think sometimes

PP: especially when you message me back and I get caught up in the games and the emojis and stuff and like I’m sure that sometimes I overstep but I don’t mean to and you can tell me at any point if you want me to stop

PP: I guess I just really like to talk to you sometimes and it’s fun to have someone to banter with who actually banters back like not in a mean way but in a really nice and funny way. you’re an easy guy to talk to is what I’m saying

PP: which I’m sure you get a lot. I don’t mean that I want to like tell you all my problems I swear it’s not that it’s just more of a AHHHHH I don’t even know what I’m saying I think it’s sorry???

PP: I’m sorry??? I don’t mean to imply anything that isn’t there and I don’t want to make you feel like you have to either. Ar e you mad? Please don’t be mad okay wait no I’ve sent like seven fucking messages I’m being a creep oh my god IM SORRY ILL SHUT UP NOW OKAY SORRY BYE

  Oh nooooo.

The panic-induced infodump was not only familiar but horrendously endearing.

Sam had to explode now.

Man. Bummer.

  SC: it’s okay Peter

PP: OH THANK GOD

PP: is it tho??? Are you sure?

SC: I have positive feelings towards people like you too

  Sam’s heart pounded. He almost locked his phone and threw it in the sink, but another text came in just as that thought finished crossing his mind.

  PP: you do?

SC: yes of course I do

PP: oh nice

SC: yeah

  Annnnnnnd cue mutual nerd awkwardness. Great. Well done, Sam, you’ve done it again.

He sighed and turned away from the sink and sunk down onto the floor with his back against it.

Such a loser, Chung. So painfully awkward. Would it kill you to, just for once, slow down and chill for a minute?

God.

  PP: hey sam?

  No, Sam just wanted to sit on this floor and wallow.

  PP: hello? Are you still there?

 --

Sam let his head fall back against the sink. He closed his eyes.

His phone rang in his hand and he nearly had a heart attack. His fingers scrabbled over its face and the caller ID read ‘Peter Parker.’

Oh god.

Oh no.

Be cool. Be cool. Be cool.

“Hello?” he answered to the scratchy phone silence on the other side of the line.

He frowned.

“Hello?” he tried again, a smidge less desperate.

“Hi.”

There he was.

“Hey,” Sam said. “Sorry, just got awkward.”

Peter laughed through the line.

“Me too,” he said. “That was awkward.”

Yeah.

“Yeah.”

A long pause.

“I’m doing it again,” Sam moaned into his hand.

“No, no. Hey, you’re good,” Peter said. “I was just uh. Calling because.” He trailed off.

Sam waited.

“Sam? You still there?”

He startled and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Sorry, zoning out a little bit. You know, busy day.”

“Yeah,” Peter said.  “Yeah, I know.”

Sam breathed as quietly as he could. He could almost hear Peter doing the same on his end.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta g—” Sam started.

“Hey, do you like me?”

HNG.

“No?” Sam answered and then punched himself in the leg. “Sorry. Uh. I didn’t—I mean, uh. Yes. Of course I like you. You’re a really good person. I admire you a lot.”

Hannah, oh Hannah, where is thine shovel? Sam needed it to dig this grave deeper, please.

“Oh. Okay, I just—I guess I uh, have a hard time reading the tone of your texts sometimes,” Peter said.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot,” Sam said. “I’ll try harder to be more direct.”

“No,” Peter said. “No, no, you don’t have to change anything.”

“Oh? Okay, well. Maybe I still will, though,” Sam said.

If Peter wouldn’t have heard him, he would have started to try to fit his whole fist in his mouth.

Five minutes of conversation and they were still saying nothing.

“Sam?”

He swallowed.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Next time you’re in the city, would you, uh, maybe want to go out somewhere? With me?”

Out? What like, to a movie or something?

“Yeah, just like that,” Peter said. “’Cause I uh. Would like to. Do that, I mean. With you.”

“With me?” Sam asked. “Oh right, and your other friends, uh, names—sorry, I’m bad with names. N-ned?”

“No,” Peter said oddly abruptly. “Well, I mean—I don’t mean it like that. I just—just with you. For now. That’s what I mean.”

“Oh. Uh. Kinda like a date?” Sam asked through the forcefield of self-hatred that felt like it spanned the entire continental US.

There was a pause. Sam held his breath.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Exactly like a date. If you don’t mind—you know, doing that with me.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHA.

“Are you trying to lure me to a secondary location, Mr. Parker?” Sam asked seriously.

The laugh that met him made all the muscles in his shoulders relax.

“Maybe if the bit at the first location goes well,” Peter said. Then added hurriedly, “If you’re down for that.”

Sam was down for it right now.

Actually, maybe not in Kirsten’s kitchen. But like, right now in a different location.

“If it’s a movie date, we can do it through Netflix Party,” he pointed out faux-lightly. “It wouldn’t be the same, but we could do it this weekend, even. Saturday—I’m off Saturday.”

Peter said nothing for a long time.

“Okay. Saturday,” he finally agreed, “I can do Saturday. Kinda hard to hold your hand through a screen, but I can give it my best shot?”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffff.

“Oh, I bet you will,” Sam nearly choked.

“You’re really cute, Sam.”

NO. SHUT UP. YOU ARE.

“Thanks.”

“I wanted to kiss you last time you were here, but I was too, uh. Shy. Embarrassed. One of them.”

Sam was going to puke, but in like, the happiest kind of way.

“I like you a lot too, Peter,” he whispered.

“Are you crying?”

“What? No.”

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.”

“Shut up, I’m not. I—the old man’s downstairs, his ears aren’t as good through ceilings, but I just want to make sure—”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said. “I’m sure that’s what it is. So I’ll see you Saturday? Maybe Facetime or something?”

“Yeah, Saturday,” Sam said. “I’ll send you a time when I know. I’ve gotta go. Meltdown-alloted-breaktime is over.”

Peter laughed.

“Alright, man, I’ll talk to you later. Bye now.”

“Bye,” Sam said lamely.

He hung up the phone. He did not scream. But he did fist pump and then fall onto his side.

 ---------

Here’s to hoping things get easier for you anon!!

[brywrites]

For A Living

A/N: Reid has worked hard to keep his job a secret from the Reader, who he’s been dating. But she’s a little more perceptive than he expected.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For once in his life, everything seems to be good. He is sitting in a coffee shop drinking a mocha full of sugar, talking about the previously unpublished Hemingway short story to a girl whose eyes light up with every word. She is just as excited about “A Room on the Garden Side” as he is, and he can’t help but smile to himself. Everything is perfect.

Until she asks him what his plans are for next week, and he responds that he’s not sure yet.

“Well, my old roommate, Rimsha, is coming into town. She wants to stay at my place, and she was hoping to meet you. If that’s okay with you,” she adds, looking a little embarrassed.

“No, of course, I – I would love to meet her,” Reid stammers, though meeting new people isn’t his favorite thing in the world. But it matters to her, so he’s willing to try. “I just, uh, I’m not sure what my week will look like.”

Y/N pauses, looking down at the muffin in front of her. She teeters on the edge of speaking, and he’s trying to figure out what she’s so afraid to say. Is there something he should know about Rimsha? Is she worried their meeting won’t go well? Despite his analysis of her behavior, nothing could have prepared him for what comes from her mouth next.

“When are you going to tell me what your real job is?”

Reid blanches. “Wh-what?”

She sighs. “We’ve been dating for three months. I know you’re not just a college professor, Spencer.”

“I – I am a college professor.” He crosses his arms under his chest, trying to keep calm.

“I know that’s what you told me when we met. And when we started dating, you were teaching full-time, but you only taught for a month. So what is it you do the rest of the time?” she asks. Oh no. No, he’s not ready to answer this question.

“I do research.” Reid hopes the slight telltale crack in his voice isn’t noticeable to her. If it is, she says nothing about it, only stares at him with focused eyes and a slightly quirked eyebrow.

“Your research requires you to leave suddenly and travel to different time zones?”

She’s more observant than he thought. “I told you before, I guest lecture at other universities and I… I go to, uh, conferences.”

“Where you’re so busy you can’t talk to me?” When they get a case, he always try to talk his way out of it if he has to cancel plans, but when he’s away he never calls her. It’s too risky. With her, he lets his guard down. It’s too likely he’d end up mentioning something that happened at work, so he sticks to a strict text-message only policy.

“Um – I, uh…” he can’t find the words and now he’s tapping his foot in patterns of three and he can feel the anxiety building up in his chest. What is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to do? Is he about to lose the woman who has been the light of his life since he met her five months ago?

But one gentle look from her calms his racing heart. Her eyes are soft and she gives him a reassuring smile. “Hey, it’s okay.” She slowly reaches out to place her hand over his, and he can feel his body relax. “I’m not mad at you. I know you, and I know that there’s a reason you haven’t told me, yet. But I want you to know that you can trust me. I can’t be there for you if you don’t let me in.”

When she has a rough day at work or when something comes up with her family, he’s always there to comfort her and listen to her. All she wants is to do the same for him.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he starts. “I just – there’s… it’s more complicated than that.” He can’t find the words to explain, but he knows that he has to. He really likes her. This beautiful girl who loves books as much as he does, and doesn’t mind his rambling. Who asked him about the book he was reading three weeks in a row at the coffee shop they both frequented before he worked up the nerve to ask her about her book; after which they ended up in a four hour long conversation, during which the barista brought them free refills of their lattes (“because it’s about damn time you two actually talked to each other,” she’d said).

He adores he kindness and her laugh and the way a hug from her makes the world feel right again. Her patience with his quiet cover-up has lasted this long, and he’d begun to think she hadn’t noticed. How had he fooled himself into believing that? She’s so smart, of course she knew.

At that very moment, his phone buzzes with a familiar ringtone. Reid digs into his bag and pulls out his cell, only to be greeted with a message from Garcia: ALL HANDS ON DECK MATEYS, WE HAVE ARR-SELVES A CASE. When he looks back at Y/N, she nods, and he wonders which one of them is the profiler.

“Research conference?” she asks, a little coy.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I have to go.” He quickly shoves his things into his satchel, and reaches over to squeeze her hand. “But I promise, when I get back, we’ll talk.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” And she flashes him that smile he loves so much. What would she say if she knew where he was off to? That each call meant running into danger?

All through the case, that question comes back to him. Something could happen to him while he’s away, and she would be left to navigate a field of questions on her own. Wondering why he didn’t tell her what he did, and why it was so risky, and why he couldn’t trust her with that.

The truth is he would trust her with everything, anything. He’d give her his heart tomorrow if she asked for it, but he’s trying to keep hers safe.

Reid is gone for three days, and he doesn’t call her once. She only sends him one text – call me when you’re home.They catch the man killing women in a small Missouri town, and the case is closed without anyone on the team getting hurt. The whole plane ride home he’s on the edge of his seat, mind racing with all the things he wants to say to her. He goes home and paces his living room for an hour and a half before finally calling her, and asking if she’ll come over to talk.

“So, how was the conference, professor?” she asks, taking a seat on his couch.

He sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. The last few days were hard and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“The only wrong thing you can say is nothing.” She bites her lip, and when she looks up at him he shivers under the intensity of her gaze. “Spencer, I love you.” It’s the first time she’s ever said it out loud and it takes his breath away to hear those words from her. “And I want to keep loving you, but I can’t do that if you can’t open up to me. Why do you keep trying to hide this from me?”

“I’m not trying to keep anything from you,” he says, sitting down beside her. “I was… I was trying to protect you. Because I love you, too.”

“What could be so bad that you can’t tell me? Where do you go all the time? What are you doing?”

Reid swallows hard. “Y/N, it’s not that I don’t think you can handle it. I know you’re strong. But when you came into my life, it was like this – this bright light. I see so much darkness, and I just don’t want you to have to deal with that. I don’t want what I’ve seen to ever make you worry more or smile less or dim that light you bring to every room you go into.”

She puts her hand on his. “And I don’t want to leave you alone in the dark.”

Her eyes are pleading with him, and he’s never been good at saying no to her. He can’t keep this up. He can’t hide this part of his life for her forever. Acknowledging it means acknowledging all the harm that comes with it – the loss of colleagues, the trauma, the drugs… everything. But she deserves to know.

He takes a deep breath. “I work for the FBI.”

Y/N narrows her eyes. “Spencer, I’m being serious.”

“So am I!”

“I’m supposed to believe that my bookworm boyfriend who abhors physical activity is a secret agent?”

Reid jumps up to grab his messenger back from its hook, fumbles briefly in the pockets, and returns to the sofa with a small black holding case in hand. He gives it to her and adds, “Technically, it’s supervisory special agent.”

He watches as she opens it up and stares at the badge and ID inside. Her mouth falls open and her eyes widen as she stares up at him and if he weren’t so nervous he’d find the expression on her face absolutely adorable. Y/N looks between him and the badge before asking, “What’s BAU?”

“It’s the Behavioral Analysis Unit. That’s the division my team works in. We use psychology to profile repeat offenders.” He winces at the words that sound straight out of his orientation manual.

Her eyebrows knit together. “Profiling? Like… Silence of the Lambs or something?”

“More or less,” he says. “My team is a specialized unit. When local law enforcement has something on their hands that they can’t handle, they call us in. It might be a terrorist threat, a child abduction, or a serial killer – though it’s usually the latter.”

He can see the pieces starting to come together for her.

“So that’s where you go when you leave.”

He nods. “We fly out to wherever we’re needed and consult. And if we’re lucky, we catch unsu- um, the suspect, before they can hurt anyone else.”

Y/N runs her fingers of the edges of his badge, staring at it as if it can make sense of all of this. “So when you say you’ve seen things…”

He figures it’s best to keep being honest. “Yeah. Bodies. Crime scenes. Death. The most depraved human beings on the planet. It’s an abyss. There are a lot of things that haunt me. And there are things I’ve done that I’m not proud of. And I’ll answer any question you want, I just need you to know that I wasn’t trying to hide this from you because I didn’t want you to know. I just didn’t want to weigh you down with it. I wanted to pretend, for just a little while, that I’m not the person who gets in the mind of monsters. Because when I’m with you, I can forget all of that. I feel better when I’m with you. And I guess I was afraid that if I told you what I did, that something bad would happen.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“This job is dangerous. I know friends who have lost loved ones – either because the job is too much or because someone we’re trying to catch makes things personal. I thought I could protect you from all of that by hiding my job from you.”

“This is a lot to take in,” she says quietly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Is the only thing you’ve lied to me about?”

“Yes. There are things I haven’t told you about yet that have happened because of this job, but I don’t want to keep any more secrets from you. I’ll tell you everything, I swear. But everything else is real. I’m still me. I do teach when I’m on sabbatical. I’ve read every book by Tolstoy in English and Russian. My mom does have schizophrenia. And I do love you.”

Y/N sets the badge down on the couch between them and puts her hand over his. On instinct, he twines their fingers together. She keeps him grounded, tethered in the midst of all the madness.

“So you’re a genius and a hero, huh?”

He chuckles. “To be honest, I don’t really care about being either of those things. All I want is to be the man who gets to love you.”

She brushes his hair back from his cheek, her touch so soft he could melt. “No more secrets?”

“I promise.”

“Good. I can handle the dark. I can be strong. But you’re the one who makes me smile. And I don’t want to stop loving you.”

He can’t help but grin. What he has with her is better than anything he had ever dreamed of, and he doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he swears he’s not going to mess this up. The BAU is his job, his team, the way he makes a living. But with her, he has a chance to build a life. “I took next weekend off, by the way. So whenever Rimsha is here, I would love to meet her.”

The smile playing at the corner of her mouth is mischievous. “Oh don’t worry, there’s going to be plenty of time for that, Mr. FBI Man. But for now, I kind of want you all to myself.” She leans in to kiss him, and he knows – that for once in his life everything, everything is good.

[hirvitank]

Waste + 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 9, 11, 12, 13, 15

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I knew Death of the Outsider was coming, and as the Outsider was my favourite character I really wanted to explore the theory of him becoming human—the game hadn’t been released yet so we had no idea how it’d actually end, just that Billie and Daud were working together to kill him. Since the Outsider functioned as a sort of moral compass, I was very curious to try and imagine how his canon characteristics and biases would translate into a human version of him; how would he experience the world? How would he come to terms with such a humbling existence? Where did he come from and who was he? How would he cope with his own mortality, human emotion, the consequences following his choices in the Void? And most importantly; how had his being the Outsider affected his humanity? There was so much I wanted to see explored, things I feel the previous games hinted at but never elaborated upon. I wanted to write a psychological sort of story where we’d really be able to feel and experience whatever passed in his mind, and I tried my best to use my knowledge as well as my own experiences—flaws I either observed within myself or others, ideas, thoughts and feelings influenced by bias, depression, trauma, etc. When in art school, most of my inspiration came from the transience of things; my fear of death. I really wanted to take the subject and explore it through the eyes of someone previously immortal.

2: What scene did you first put down?

I think it was the original ending I wrote down first. I was supposed to write towards a particular scene, but somewhere along the way I’d decided to discard the idea entirely and opt for a happier resolution. I originally intended for the Outsider to die in the end, both to explore the feelings of those around him, as well as his own emotions accepting such a fate. I wanted a way to embrace death, as well as an output for all my bitterness regarding the subject; my anger at the ‘unfairness’ of it all, as well as my own trauma. I wanted to express loss, and in a way try and reveal the beauty of it. In the end, I had already found a way to deal with grief, and I also felt these characters deserved more; the fairness of fiction

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

That’s a REALLY difficult pick haha (does this mean literally a single line, or like a paragraph?). I’ll just share one of my favourite parts, because I can, and because it’s even more difficult to pick a single line from such a long story and I’m honestly horrible at making choices:

I heard the whispers of rats all around me, tiny feet scampering through the pipes; Billie’s gift tucked inside my shirt. My bare feet light, making little noise—as if I wasn’t really there. Perhaps I wasn’t. Perhaps I hadn’t been anywhere for centuries.

Up the stairs, cold stones. The walls decorated, grand and lavish. Empty corridors and lingering traces of hushed whispers—the guards had left their posts. She’d be there. How would that have made me feel? How should that make me feel? Almost, getting closer. My heart pounded in my ears, lungs greedily begging for more air, more—more. I felt like running. Strong currents of energy coursed through my veins, vibrated through bones and tendons. If I lost control, would I explode in a million pieces? Would the energy burst out and take my body apart, like the Void tearing into reality?

Who was I?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Honestly impossible to pick, I’ll just take this monologue:

“Anton Sokolov: sire to 14 children, but a father to none. A brilliant mind at a terrible cost, enlightenment in exchange for the dark depravity of the soul. Fingers that turn the times into a revolution of progress, the same fingers that touch upon women as they do the cold inventions they craft. Objects close to his heart—objects from his mind.

“The stench of alcohol in his bed, his clothes, his skin. Liquors and paints; on the canvas, dripping from his fingers, in the eyes of the beggar he found in the flooded slums of a place forsaken. The stench of rot still fresh on his teeth as he smiles at young Emily Kaldwin and tells her: ‘Don’t worry dear, here in the tower you are safe.’ Don’t worry dear, for I know the truest evil lies not within the high walls of Dunwall but within my hands and mind, within the flooded basement where a woman screamed and bled until she hung her head and closed eyes from which the dark paint still leaked—forever.

“The human body—like clockwork—taken apart in exchange for coin, for valuables. But those things Anton Sokolov values most lay outside of his intellectual grasp; for all the reasoning in the world he is but a cold, lonely man in search of a higher purpose that is but a lie of his own twisted imagination. A delusion of grandeur.

“How does it feel? One’s biggest regrets are but feelings of little consequence. The true disease is the sickness that allows one to enact true consequence on an innocent in the name of a self-prescribed fate. But I suppose that’s the curse of boredom. That, is the curse of your brilliance.”

5: What part was hardest to write?

The first chapter! There’s nothing more difficult than a set-up imo; establishing characters, pacing, setting and feel. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go, but there was still so much I didn’t know that I had a hard time choosing how and where to start. I think it’s one of the most heavily edited chapters, just because I didn’t have a clear grasp on the characters or plot yet. (Also smut, oh lord help me)

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

There’s the original ending, and I did at one point start on a companion fic to explore Emily’s pov, but decided I better focus on finishing the original instead.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

The fact that it’s finished (hurrahhhh!!), and the themes and subjects.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

My own sense of humour, I always cringe reading my own jokes so I can only hope it hits with others—I genuinely have no idea, and it’s hard at times to figure out where to draw the line.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

WELL IM GLAD U ASKED!! I’ll try and keep this short, but these are some of the songs that carried this fic, not even exaggerating.

1. Lover Don’t Leave, Citizen Shade

2. Happy Life, Roland Faunte

3. Painting Roses, Dresses

4. ID, Charlie Allen

5. High Tops, Del Water Gap

6. Love Song for Lady Earth, Del Water Gap

7. Battle Cry, The Family Crest

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

EVERYTHING. I had literally no idea about writing, apparently. I’ve had no classes in literature, nor have I ever been taught the common rules when it comes to writing. I got to learn most of it thanks to my friends who helped edit (shoutout to @onewhoturns again), and through trial and error. I absolutely loved the experience of it, and I’m so grateful for all I’ve learned, and all I will continue to learn in the future. It’s given me the basis for my own original writing which I’m trying to pursue, and which I hope will someday become reality.

Thank you so much for these! I’ve thoroughly enjoyed answering every single one. ♥

[heartbreaknow]

Vampire!Peter Imagine

I’ve been sitting on my vampire!Peter imagine for a couple of months now, thinking about whether there’s any chance I might want to turn it into an actual fic, ever. But this week seems to be vampire!Starker week on tumblr (\o/), so I’m just gonna post the damn thing before I completely miss the boat. 

NOTE: This takes a bit to get dirtysexy y’all, but it gets there eventually. This has been my one effort at self-promotion. That is all. 👍

~

The way it starts is: Peter gets bitten by something while on an Avengers mission in space. (Ever since the whole situation with Thanos, space missions have become a thing they occasionally do, much to Peter’s delight and Tony’s…whatever the absolute furthest thing from delight is.) So there they are, trekking through an oddly echo-less cave on some alien planet, and suddenly some kind of creature—smallish and not overly threatening—bites Peter and then skitters away into the darkness before he can even get a look at it.

By the time they get back to the ship, Peter can’t find any trace of a mark from the bite, and he’s not even sure how something could bite through his suit anyway, and honestly, Peter’s not sure he didn’t just imagine it.  Maybe something in his suit just went haywire for a second and jabbed him. That could happen, right?

~

The Avengers return from the mission and everything is fine for a couple of days.

But then Peter begins feeling mysteriously light-sensitive and feverish, and by the time a week has passed he finds himself developing a…craving. At first, he can’t even put his finger on what it is he’s craving, but over time it begins to distill into a strange, relentless kind of hunger, and a corresponding urge to- well- bite people. (The first time Peter notices it, he’s in the lab with Mr Stark, and it goes away when he leaves the lab. But pretty soon its become a constant nagging hunger.)

Peter tries to ignore it for as long as possible, kind of downplaying it to himself and assuming it’ll pass, because it’s just too weird to really be happening. But the longer it goes on, the sicker he feels, and the hungrier he gets.

Until one night, nearly two weeks after the space mission, Peter finds a lost dog while he’s dragging himself weakly through his nightly patrol. The dog has an ID tag, so he catches it, with the intent of returning it to its owners—but then everything gets kind of weird in his head, and he goes into some kind of trance and drinks the dog’s blood. Which is horrifying, obviously, and also just objectively super gross.

Clearly, ignoring the blood-thirst and denying there’s a problem isn’t working.

(Also, even though the dog’s blood satisfies the obsessive hunger that’s been building in him for days, it tastes foul and gives him a massive stomach ache.)

 ~

So Peter, who is now very much freaking out, goes straight to Tony and explains the symptoms he’s experiencing. At first he kind of hedges a little, and doesn’t immediately tell Tony about the dog, because he can’t bear for Mr Stark to look at him with disgust. Unfortunately, that leads to Mr Stark not really getting how serious it is. He just makes a Lucy the vampire bride joke, and suggests it’s some kind of spidey version of Pica; asks how Peter’s nutrition is; tells Peter he’s a growing superhero, and he can’t subsist on ramen and Gatorade alone.

Until finally Peter blurts out, “Idrankadog’sblood!”

It’s kind of a showstopper.

Tony’s like, “Um, excuse me, you—you killed a dog?”

Peter is instantly aghast. “What? No! Oh my god, no, I just…bit it…some. And then I found its owners.” And then, after a second’s pause: “Oh god, what if the dog is a vampire now? And I just left it with that nice family! I’ve gotta go warn them!” 

~ 

As it turns out, the dog is not a vampire. But Peter…kind of is?

Apart from the dog-biting incident, Peter has also suddenly grown a pair of retractable fangs, his pupils react weirdly to light, and when stimulated, his fangs disgorge a small amount of some kind of venom—the properties of which they are working on isolating.

As soon as they prove there is in fact something happening to Peter, Tony is immediately adamant they will find a cure for whatever it is. But the first couple days of tests yield no real answers, and by then Peter is getting hungry again.

That’s about the time they discover Peter vomits up bagged blood pretty violently. So that’s Plan A off the table.

~

When Peter starts looking sallow and jittery, and Tony notices him chewing his own lip until it bleeds and then licking up the blood, Tony thinks, Fuck it, and goes out and buys him a nice, robust-looking American Bulldog. PETA can sue him.

Peter tries to refuse Mr Stark’s, uh, provision, but his protests are weak. He’s so hungry. It doesn’t take long before he gives in.

Unfortunately, dog blood doesn’t work so well the second time around. This time, the taste is so foul Peter can barely keep it down, and what’s worse, within minutes of feeding he’s doubled over with the worst stomach pain of his life 

They try a couple other types of animals, with the same results: nauseating flavor and crippling stomach pain.    

So alright, Plan B is maybe not as viable as they thought it was, either.

~

Peter puts on a brave face, and insists that it’s fine, he doesn’t need to eat. He can tough it out, at least for a little while longer. But after another couple of days, he looks like death warmed over, and Tony suspects he doesn’t feel much better than he looks.

Also, Peter starts keeping at least a couple of steps between himself and Tony in the lab at all times. And when, out of habit, Tony gets close enough to give his shoulder a squeeze, Peter jerks away lightning fast, and Tony swears he sees a glint of something in Peter’s mouth, right before he clamps it shut.  

So yeah, Tony’s worried about him.

~

The fifth morning without blood, Peter doesn’t show up in the lab.

Worried, Tony goes to check on him.

He barely makes it three steps into Peter’s room before he finds himself pinned to Peter’s bedroom door, with a black-eyed, fangy Peter leaning into him, panting and staring at his neck.

This new Peter, with his needle-sharp cuspids, and his demonic-possession eyes, should be terrifying—and it’s not that he isn’t, per se. It’s just that he’s Peter. And Tony remembers how Peter didn’t kill the dog either time he fed, even though he must’ve been pretty damn desperate the first time. So instead of trying to get free, or snap Peter out of it, Tony looks Peter right in his black, iris-less eyes, and says, “Okay, kid. Mealtime,” and tilts his head to the side, baring his neck. Then he reaches up, and guides Peter down.

~

Being bitten is incomparable to anything Tony’s ever felt before. It’s weird, and unnerving, and intimate, and probably incredibly dangerous. And Tony really, really wishes it didn’t feel so goddamn good.

He has enough to feel guilty about as it is (his feelings for the kid are something he’s been studiously not looking too closely at for a while now). He really doesn’t need to add “My mentee’s in the middle of a serious health crisis and I can’t stop thinking about what it felt like to have him latched onto my neck like the world’s hottest leech” to his laundry list of mental depravity.

~

When Peter’s head clears after the feeding, he freaks out and basically flees the tower, horrified at what he’s done.

A couple hours later he’s back again, looking defeated and miserable, and not meeting Tony’s eyes. He realizes he can’t be trusted to be among the general population unmonitored until they know more about his condition. And if whatever is wrong with him gets worse and they need to lock him up, the tower and the compound are the only places with rooms that can reliably contain him.

~

The second time Peter feeds from Tony, Tony suggests that Peter try feeding from his wrist instead. It’s mainly for his own sanity that he makes the suggestion, but outwardly he reasons that wrist feeding is probably safer and more comfortable for them both. Peter nods quietly and agrees, eyes meeting Tony’s and then quickly skittering away.

Tony does find the sensation somewhat less overwhelming when Peter feeds from his wrist instead of his neck—but only somewhat. It still feels bizarrely, almost maddeningly good, like somehow Peter’s feeding has turned his wrist into an erogenous zone. Or possibly his entire body.  

~

Peter and Tony quickly find themselves falling into a routine: research, data collection, tests, and feedings.

Peter will hold off from feeding until his pupils begin to dilate and his skin gets sallow, and the way he looks at Tony as he moves around the lab begins to take on a sharp, slightly animal quality. Then, when Tony is pretty sure Peter’s desperate enough to actually give in, he says, very clearly, very directly, “Kid, come here,” and gestures Peter over with a jerk of his head that’s a hell of a lot more casual than he feels. And just like that, Peter goes to him.

At first, Tony thinks the feeling of Peter feeding from him might become less intense once he gets used to it, but it doesn’t work out that way. A bit the opposite, truthfully.

After a couple of weeks, Tony finds himself fixating: on Peter’s mouth, on his pliant lips and his defined jaw, on he way it hinges open over Tony’s pounding pulse-point. He finds himself growing to love the way Peter ends up curled around his arm every time he feeds, his side pressed against Tony’s front, tucked in close, shoulder to sternum. Generally Tony has to find something to brace against, or Peter will push him off balance with the force of his hunger.

Tony finds that the site where Peter has bitten him begins to feel hot and over-sensitive constantly, but especially right before a feeding. Like there’s too much blood too close to the surface.

Tony finds himself wanting to give Peter what he needs over and over again. Craving it, even.

But Peter’s made it pretty clear that no matter how much this thing in his head enjoys feeding, he himself hates it, and is intent on doing it as infrequently as possible. (Peter’s never overtly said he hates it, not in so many words, but the way he refuses to feed until he’s famished, and the tense, nervous way he looks at Tony whenever it’s  getting close to meal time, is pretty eloquent.) And Tony can’t—won’t—allow himself to undermine Peter’s resolve about this. Not when the kid’s just trying to hang onto as much autonomy as he can while this thing runs roughshod over his hierarchy of needs.

So he watches Peter constantly, looking for signs of hunger—then forces himself not to say anything once he does see the signs. He makes himself wait while Peter works through the craving, hour after hour, his eyes getting slowly darker each time Tony catches one of his furtive glances. Until eventually Tony can’t stand it anymore.

When he unbuttons his shirt cuff and calls Peter to him, it’s all he can do to make it sound like a casual offer.

~ 

Tony hates himself for enjoying it—the feedings. For practically getting off on them. For literally getting off on them, later, when he’s by himself—his bruised, throbbing wrist shoved against his own mouth, tonguing lewdly at the place where Peter’s snake-like cuspids slid sharpnumbhot into his skin. Fuck. His other hand shoved down his boxers, jacking himself off to the thought of how Peter always clings to him as he feeds—how he struggles to stay lucid and only ever half succeeds. Tony tries not to think about Peter’s slippery tongue chasing a droplet of blood down his neck, the very first time he ever fed off Tony. He tries not to think about Peter’s mouth while he fucks furiously into his own fist, smothering a groan. Peter’s innocent mouth, smeared red and panting. Fuck, oh, fuck.

Tony hates himself for it, all of it. But he can’t stop.

- - - - END - - - -

It’s killing me to leave it here because I have so many more bullet point ideas written out for this imagine. But on the off chance I ever write some of this as an actual fic, I don’t want to have described the entire thing before hand. So I guess I’ll quit here.

But for context: I kind of like the idea of paired feeding being habit-forming for both parties. So like, not only does it feel really, really good, but over time they both start to get kind of physiologically addicted to it. 

I’m thinking maybe whatever weird-ass critter bit Peter, feeding is part of its mating ritual. Like, maybe it’s a symbiotic pair-bonding species that mates for life, and determines the suitability of its mate base on how well the blood-drinking half takes to the blood-providing half’s blood, and how well the blood-providing half responds to the blood-drinking half’s venom. (Yes, this is really putting the pseudo in pseudoscience. Just go with it?)

The problem for Peter and Tony is that, despite being profoundly compatible, they keep repeating the mating behavior over and over without resolution—thus causing things to kind of...escalate. 

[fogsrollingin]

what are your favorite wincest noncon fics?

hmmm great question!

Noncon isn’t a tag I seek out but every once in awhile I come across it in a ‘that was rapey but I can handle it’ way. Also, I have lots of rape/trauma recovery recs, but ‘wincest noncon’ suggest you’re looking for a lack of consent between Dean/Sam so I’m gonna go that direction 👍 ✧ My fic recs are updated regularly on DW and quarterly on Tumblr. Link to the possibly updated reclist on DW here ✧ My entire catalogue of fic recs on tumblr here ✧ This post was last updated 1/21/2022 ✧ For epubs of rec’d fanfic from LJ or DW, click to this post.

leonidaslion’s Bright Lights of Disturbia (AO3). Rated NC-17, Dean/Sam, 373k words. Summary:  Not all of our scars are worn on the outside… ao3.org/works/181007 my thoughts: an epic & full of Dean whump which, oddly, also isn’t my preference, but despite it all I couldn’t put this story down... and its HEA ending had me reccing it in my favorite winter holidays fics, hah

Iron Ridge Pack ‘Verse by meus_venator. Rated NC-17, unrelated Sam/Dean, 193k. Summary: Federal Marshal Jensen Ackles of the Hunter Division was the best tracker the department had on the west coast. Having watched his entire family be slaughtered by a wolf pack as a child, Jensen dedicated himself to becoming a hunter. Under his watch no one would ever suffer as he had, and renegade werewolves would be brought to justice and shipped back to the rez where they belonged. When a call came in about a were sighting in the sleepy town of Munter’s Gorge, Montana, Jensen thought he’d be home in no time. Then he met Jared at the local coffee shop and the case suddenly became a whole lot more complicated. ao3.org/series/248002 my thoughts: Fucked up A/B/O in all its glory. I absolutely love it with zero shame - really, how can you wander about fandom with shame? Fanfiction is pure id and the journey into meus_venator’s on-point id game is always a rabbit hole of addictive depravity with wholesome love & tenderness that somehow bubbles out of it all. Her works (especially this one) hook and drag me in to bed as early as 8PM and doesn’t let me sleep until like 3. This fic is also in my animal transformations reclist.

Dragon Spell by virtualpersonal and brimstonegold (LJ). Rated NC-17, Sam/Dean, 112k. Summary:  Crossover with Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern. Snooping around in his father's storage locker, Sam touches something he shouldn't and gets sucked into a world where dragonriders must protect their world from a continuous threat of threadfall. Dean follows and finds Sam has lost his memories. Until they get out of this mess, they have to ‘make like the natives.’ virtualpersonal.livejournal.com/206751.html my thoughts: This story was my gateway fic to dragon AUs and it's been ah👏ma👏zing👏 reading and exploring this one and all the others! While it’s a crossover with Anne McCaffrey’s Pern universe, I had no idea and rolled with it anyway, so you definitely don’t need to have read the McCaffrey’s series to understand this story (but it’s a great in that it gives you the gist of what other Pern x SPN fics incorporate in their crossovers as well). Love the amnesia trope deftly used here to kinda excuse/explain how the wincest unfolds

Amidst the Chaos by AnOddSock. NC-17, Dean/Sam, 18k words. Summary: The apocalypse began and Dean’s world shattered. The rest of the world wasn’t too far behind. Years later, after fighting and planning and hoping, there’s finally a chance to get through to Sam — to give him the opportunity to come kicking and screaming back to the surface and wrest control away from Lucifer. Dean doesn’t want to hurt Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes. He just needs to find a way to connect, a way in. And he always was better with his hands, and his touch, than he was with words. ao3.org/works/20580200 my thoughts: I’ve never read a story that makes sexual climax as close to the same thing as the story’s plot climax, lol. Fucking brilliant! I mean this got so graphic and brutal but it had explicit, deeply important reasons behind why it needed to be expounded upon. I totally loved this fic for that. It had me both riveted and a little turned on the whole way through.

Rattling Your Locks by cherie_morte (LJ). Rated NC-17, Jensen/Jared. 50k. Summary:  AU: Born into slavery, Jared has been trained and used as a pleasure slave ever since he was a teenager. Rare and coveted because of his Alpha status, Jared has always sold to the richest and often cruelest of masters. His new master, the young but ruthless CEO of TradeMark Entertainment, Jensen Ackles, seems no different. At least, not until Jared stops to wonder what a consummate Alpha male like Ackles would want with another Alpha as his pleasure slave. Things only get more confusing when Jared arrives at his new master’s home and finds that there are no other slaves. He soon learns that Ackles freed all of his father’s slaves when he inherited them and has been a vocal supporter and patron of anti-slavery groups since. Jared doesn’t know how to reconcile this knowledge with his master’s outward coldness, but the more he learns about Ackles, the less he seems to fit into the assumptions that Jared has made about him. infatuated-ink.livejournal.com/73226.html my thoughts: Normally I don’t go for alpha!Jared but this was an amaaaazing story. The development Jensen and Jared’s characters, the progress they made with each other, was terrific. A few times the events in the story had me take pause but at the end of the day I really liked how sketchy and gray and conflicted everybody was when it came to that reconciliation aspect mentioned in her summary. Just a really fantastic and wonderfully long read! This fic is in my slave reclist.

Fortress series by glasslogic (AO3). Rated NC-17, Sam/Dean, 225k words. Summary: Seven years ago Dean Winchester paid his due to the Crossroads Demon and fell into Hell. Grief almost killed Sam, a demon blood addiction came closer, but he rid himself of demonic attachments and spent years building himself a prison where no demon can set foot, determined to take himself out of the apocalyptic game that had crushed his family. But each year on Earth is an eternity in Hell, and now Dean is back. Angry, powerful, and demonic; he has a plan to wreck vengeance on those who destroyed his life. A plan that will shake the foundations of the Pit and send shock-waves into Heaven. Dragging a reluctant Sam in his wake, will Dean manage to pull it off before the combined legions of Hell get their act together enough to stop him ao3.org/series/20086 my thoughts: A super well-written, dark version of Demon!Dean where his ‘evil’ nature and his ‘good’ goals (and kind of amoral adoration of Sam) are balanced. It was satisfying to read Demon!Dean saving Sam from Ruby but warning there’s a lot of rape-or-die to that whole thing. Not a lot of tender shmoop but I really enjoyed this story. Quality, edge-of-your-seat plot progression (using seasons 4 & 5 as a basic road map)

thank you so much for the question, anon! 🤗💛

[makoto-naegi555]

Dragonronpa chapter 16

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144008/chapters/78156926 

And so makoto and siramay where continuing to wait for escape to be at hand growing weary.

Makoto: how much longer

Siramay: wait and hope makoto wait and hope.

Before makoto could think too much he heard the strum of an instrument as he saw siramay playing

[SIRAMAY] Makoto's luck was really out His spirit and his fortune low Alone he sat, alone he thought Of happy times he used to know [HUSKS] Hey dreamer, don't be so upset Hey Makoto, you're not beaten yet [ALL] Go go go Makoto you know what they say Hang on now Makoto you'll make it someday Don't give up Makoto fight till you drop We’ve played the game and you come out on top.

Makoto: what does that mean?

Siramay: well think about it makoto, I come from the multiverse where anything’s possible yah? so if you think about it, it only makes sense there’s a universe where your story is a video game for all to play.

Makoto: really?

Siramay: yes! And you’re the protagonist in fact that’s how I saw you the first time from that screen you where great! Sure some chumps think you’re boring but there wrong!

Makoto: I’m probably not the best protagonist though.

Siramay: nonsense! we’ve all saw you strive and conquer in that game and while this universe will branch away from cannon we still believe in you makoto! We know you can rise and beat the mastermind when no one else could! So there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Then he started chanting

[SIRAMAY, ENSEMBLE] Go ma-ko-to Go ma-ko-to Go ma-ko-to! GO MA-KO-TO!!! Go, go, go Makoto you know what they say Hang on now Makoto you'll make it someday Sha la la Makoto you're doing fine You and your great hopes ahead of your time Go, go, go Makoto you know what they say Hang on now Makoto you'll make it someday Sha la la Makoto you're doing fine You and your great hopes ahead of your time GO MA-KO-TO

Then siramay got up and started dancing all over

Makoto: what are you doing?

Siramay: whats it look like? I’m dancing the despair away! come on makoto dance your despair away to!

[HUSK] GO MA-KO-TO

And with that makoto got up also wiggling around trying to dance the despair away

Siramay: yeah! You go makoto!

[HUSK] GO MA-KO-TO

And so makoto and siramay both joined together in a grand weird dance to fend of despair.

GO MA-KO-TO GO MA-KO-TO GO, GO, GO, GO, GO, GO, GO, GO! Makoto you know what they say Hang on now Makoto you'll make it someday Sha la la Makoto you're doing fine You and your great hopes ahead of your time Go, go, go, go, go, go, go Makoto you know what they say Hang on now Makoto you'll make it someday Sha la la Makoto you're doing fine You and your great hopes ahead of your time

[SIRAMAY] Ahead of your time [MAKOTO] Ahead of my time [SIRAMAY] Ahead of your time [MAKOTO] Ahead of my time [SIRAMAY] Ahead of your time [MAKOTO] Ahead of my time [SIRAMAY] Ahead of your time [BOTH] Ahead of my time [SIRAMAY] Ahead of your time [MAKOTO] Ahead of my time [SIRAMAY] Ahead of your time [ALL] Ahead of your/my

But then suddenly they heard a loud rumble as they all looked up to see something fall from the sky.

Makoto: what was that!?

Siramay: YOUR SALVATION! its kyoko! now breath in for this last line [ALL] TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMME!

After that makoto went to investigate the trash to find out its kyoko! She came to save him and even brought food how sweet… oh I guess that makes my food redundant eh he still needs breakfast a days past anyway, then makoto scarfed it down then they talked kyoko apologized for setting up makoto cause kyoko herself was set up, course makotos a sweety and forgave her as they talk about how the mastermind stole her memory.

Kyoko: That being said, there was a limit to what I could do by myself. Which is why I asked you to help me.

Makoto: But...why me?

Kyoko: Because among everyone, you were least likely to be the mastermind. That was just intuition, but...

Makoto: I-I see... Your intuition was right, though. There's no way an ordinary kid like me could've been the mastermind.

Siramay: now if only you where the mastermind so you could spite her.

Makoto: why!?

Siramay: I like spiting people.

So makoto continued to talk to kyoko and she finally remembered her talent the ultimate detective bum bum buuuuum and the headmasters her father, bum bum buuuuuu, so kyoko investigated a lot said the point of the trial was to kill her.

kyoko: The mastermind is adamant about following the rules, and with that rule in place, they couldn't step in. Since they couldn't kill me themselves, they tried to use the class trial to do it.

The mastermind couldn’t step in because of the rules? That makes it sound like...the mastermind themselves is somehow bound by the school regulations.

Siramay: id use the term “bound” loosely makoto they did try to kill you Afterall, there as bond to the rules as a story genie you know because genies are all like “I shall give you whatever you want” and so you are like “I wish I was hot” so they set you on fire because you said you wanted to be hot so technically they granted your wish but they are trying.

So they went on about how makoto could have died.

Kyoko: I can hear them, you know. The footsteps of the god of death.

Makoto: What...?

Kyoko: I can hear the god of death as he moves. That ability naturally draws me into cases, just like this.

Siramay starts tap dancing.

Kyoko: ???

Siramay: hahaha I should stop kidding around, let her continue to talk.

So basically she talks about the whole fiasco and the other ultimate despair, well the true ultimate despair but they don’t know that.

Kyoko: ...what happened a year ago--the biggest, most awful, most tragic event in human history.

Siramay: no no! its the biggest… most awful most tragic event! IN HUMAN HISTORY!!! jazz hands

Kyoko: They're the root of all the evil that has forced us to go through this. *That* is the Ultimate Despair. And that is our real enemy.

END CHAPTER

And then there where 6

Witch brings us to chapter 6!

he Ultimate Despair... A group of people who caused The Tragedy one year ago... Those same people put together this killing game and began broadcasting it around the world. The most desperately awful group of people ever... *That* is the mastermind's true identity. Our enemy has finally been revealed... But right now...

you gotta get out of the trash! and take a bath boy you smell.

so then they went to the door and began climbing A LADDER not me though because I can do this little thing called flying siramay said floating right next to makoto who was gradually climbing the ladder

CHAPTER 6

And so makoto and kyoko began talking about everything really as they talked about kyokos life story.

Siramay: talk about daddy issues, like man like wow.

Makoto: yeah…

Siramay: so, nearing the end aren’t you?

Makoto: that’s what you say.

Siramay: so I guess we should talk since it could be the last time we do personally talk.

Makoto: huh?

Siramay: yeah after you beat zetsu and get out of here I have to leave on my own path who knows when we could see eachother I think it be a few years.

Makoto: a few years!?

Siramay: yeah being a king of villains is a busy job even with being all powerful and immortal so much work, but that’s ok cause the work keeps me stimulated and fulfilled, and that’s like an important factor in life right?

Makoto: I guess, so what do you wanna talk about

Siramay: well that’s the thing I have so many things I want to say to you, but my memory is bad, so I kept on forgetting to tell you because we just got distracted by something else so uh just let me try to grab them …. So hope and despair ay?

Makoto: is it ok to say despair.

Siramay: we’re in the trash shoot he can’t hear us! …she cant hear us? They cant hear us? Hear us? eh but it’s beside the point you know I just think it’s weird.

Makoto: whats weird

Siramay: your worlds twisted definitions on hope and despair that’s what! like I mean look at your definition of hope its like, to keep moving forward and to face adversity head on right? … honestly, that’s noble and if everyone else liked that definition I guess I’d be ok with it but that’s what you think hope is right?

Makoto: right?

Siramay: so what do you think despair is? You think its bad stuff right? You think its all gross nasty evil like zetsu.

Makoto: well….

Siramay: WELL YOU’RE WRONG! All this bad stuff zetsu does aint despair its depravity though the depression is despair because let me tell you the truth of the matter is makoto hope means: a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. and despair means: the complete loss or absence of hope.

That is all nothing more nothing less, but your universe corrupted those ideals you ruined the balance of hope and despair I mean not you personally but your people! The people

Makoto: what? How? Why?

Siramay: well yes they may have those meanings of hope wanting something to happen and despair being no want, but they also have their other halves as most see hope as good and despair as bad but by their other names you’d see fear as bad and love as good, maybe but hope is fear and despair is love in a way.

Makoto: that makes no sense.

Siramay: yes it does makoto you just need to use your mind and think after all there are many articles about said subject and how hope and fear are just two emotions on the same face… metaphorically not literally after all the Greeks stated it themselves did they not?... did they not? But yes they are two faces of the same emotion it really just depends on the… the whats the term, influences I’d say it depends on what influences your mind whether the desire s that of hope or that of fear. Do you see what I get at?

Makoto: I guess but in a way love is desire but there’s no desire in despair so how they would work.

Siramay: well that’s where your wrong they fit quite well when you think about it after all when you are of true love you stop wanting because you have after all witch is no desire since you have what you desire and now just experience having it but that’s not what I’m talking about this whole topic came from a dream.

Makoto: a dream?

Siramay: yes I was gonna tell you the dream but with all the stuff happening it slipped my mind as so many things do but it was one of my many odd dreams where many things happen with no explanation, water parks, malls strangers who say there my friends and most importantly a testing facility using people as guinne pigs I recall sneaking in and being caught after in witch they sent me in a simulation though I can’t recall what happened in the situation but it was tragedy with a happy ending I recall cause I remember floating with someone I cared about on wood with hope we’d have a better life after the fiasco we just did, whatever it was, you see cause after that the head set was ripped of my head as I saw a mad scientist, both figuratively and literally hahaha he went off on me on a bunch of stuff I wasn’t paying attention to but he said something very important he said to me “you cant have an ending of hope and love those are conflicting ideal!” the rest of the dream went on but that line did make me think when I woke up you know? Hope and love conflicting ideals? How odd a statement cause Afterall if anything hope, and despair are the conflicting ideals unless what he was saying was love is despair? Or would It be despair is love? But thinking about it that actually made a lot of sense but I’m afraid I can’t go on about this tangent, but I will say one thing once you meet the mastermind you’ll understand exactly what I meant when I said love and despair are the same  you can’t have one without the other there like twins or lovers or twin lovers!

Makoto: no

Siramay: ok not the last one but lovers definitely

ah yes hope and despair, fear and love the two angels that balanced the universe before everything went wrong.

Makoto: what?

Siramay: well makoto you know that stuff about you being an angel? Well as I am an ALL-POWERFUL BEING WHO CAN BEND THE FABRIC OF THE UNIVERES and make it a lovely sweater for you to wear I think I found some of your worlds history to back up that clam. you see once upon a time in the beginning of the universe the great creator had two beings, angels some say but I digress their names where nozumo and zetsu.

Makoto: but isn’t that-

Siramay: EXSACTLY I had a reason after all, and they helped create the universe and bring it to balance, and oh how they loved eachother… but zetsu felt unappreciated by the world so he fell to darkness and the balance of hope and despair where corrupted to what they are now as zetsu was banished for his crimes and never got to see nozumo again but they still loved eachother greatly its stated in prophecy that their souls are constantly being reborn till the day they can be reunited again, don’t you see makoto all that talk about you being a angel maybe its not just a comparison of your purity maybe you are the reincarnation of the great angel nozumo!

Makoto: what! No that has to be impossible.

Siramay: well I don’t think so I mean after all I’m a king of villains, but there’s a reason I care about you despite that tittle and its your purity, man heroes have a sense of upright self-righteousness, but they never really hold out and it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth and a fire in my hands at their hypocrisy! They are filled with sin that I must punish! But you are different, I look at you and you are so genuinely pure you are truly one of the golden ones.

Makoto: golden ones?

Siramay: eh it’s a name I made up but despite your rarity I have met another man like you he was a handsome fellow he was with wonderful black hair his name was soot and his heart shared your purity, sure he is considerably different more rambunctious and lively but I could still feel that same purity in him, all loving, forgiving and willing to care for all even if others won’t, oh how I loved him… sadly it didn’t work out but he was so pure and his universe shared a level of pureness that despite my villainess I respected the lack of corruption in that world and would hate if others corrupted it so I vow to protect his universe for his sake and I feel that same need with you! Just looking into your eyes I have this sense of not wanting to be evil and if everyone was like you I probably wouldn’t, but sadly many people aren’t like you there are many cruel people and suffering people. And I must bring an end to that. But yes you are so pure, kind and compassionate I care about you greatly and I feel a great pain in my soul if something bad where to happen to you, you make me see how the world could be in spite of the way that it is! now makoto I just want to make one thing clear when I say I care about you. If someone ever hurts you or causes you to suffer… I will make sure that person regrets ever being brought into this universe because you don’t deserve to suffer, and I’d hate to see that.

This scared makoto a bit wondering what siramay would do to said person.

Makoto: p-please don’t cause anyone to suffer on my behalf.

Siramay: ah don’t worry buddy as long as they don’t hurt you I won’t hurt them, after all I find all that despair, depravity, suffering whatever to be quite… dull.

Makoto: you do? But aren’t you evil?

Siramay: makoto just cause I’m evil dosent mean I’m a jerk, personally I’m quite honorable with these things… I think, but yes I don’t enjoy the pain and suffering stuff its just delaying the inevitable really and it makes me uncomfortable especially the ones out of my control after all I am an almighty all-powerful being who’s traveled the multiverse so I’ve seen lots of suffering and I can safely say… siramay was trying to force a word out of himself and stayed silent for a bit.

ITS BORING!

Makoto: ah!

This startled makoto who almost fell but siramay summoned another hand to push him back.

Siramay: I MEAN ITS ALL THE SAME MAKOTO, YOU HURT SOMEONE THEY SUFFER THEY GET SAD OR MAD OR BOTH AND IF YOU CONTIUE THE PROCESS THEY WILL DIE ITS ALL THE SAME ITS ALL THE SAME! WHATS THE POINT OF WATCHING SOMEONE SUFFER LIKE THAT its exhausting I already know they will suffer so whats the point like I don’t care what she said about “despair being unpredictable” SHES A BIG FAT LIAR if you can’t get 2 from 1+1 and learn if you cause someone to suffer they will be sad then I think you might be lying about being ultimate smart cause that’s just really stupid if that’s what you enjoy! if anything I do find the hope more interesting sure I know everything will work out in the end, but peoples hopes to have different emotional flavors makoto! Just seeing someone at the lowest of low when all hope seems lost and your like “oh whats gonna happen how they gonna make it out” and you see that determined look in their eye like OOOOOOUUU see that’s the problem with today’s heroes there getting more depressed like look at how depressed and edgy they are if you’re that depressed please lose so the villain can at least get there happy ending I know they won’t waste that! Or worse! The hero starts out optimistic but then because of the story they get depressed I feel betrayed! What happened to the hero that believed the best could happen, you dirty liar you betray my heart?

But your special makoto! You look death in the eyes and still smile in the name of hope makoto can I tell you something about your future.

Makoto: …..what?

Siramay: you go through some sad things that’s a fact but, even though everything you face, even with all that’s happened and how much you’ve grown and changed by the end of everything you are still you you are still makoto naegi the hopeful boy that walked through the gates of hopes peak from the start and the fact you can still stay strong like that…it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

Makoto: ….really?

Siramay: yes makoto so though I know you are a humble man don’t forget you’re a great guy.

….you know all this talk reminds me of zetsu… the mastermind zetsu not the fallen angel one.

Makoto: what about them?

Siramay: well like I said I believe their whole reason for loving despair to be a bold face lie especially with all they’ve done in their evil plan I mean look at all the bad stuff that’s happened and I knew would happen just shows despairs predictability! But uh that’s not what I mean you see you saw yourself zetsu left many openings and holes in their plan, and while I as a villain find it foolish I know why they do it they said themselves they want to see if you can win make it a fair battle since there super smart, they could have rigged it to be impossible, but they didn’t.

Makoto: wait so we only got this far because she let us?

Siramay: no! well kinda, but don’t disqualify yourself makoto you not dying was completely unpredicted, along with many other things you did but ask yourself makoto, why would they do that and limit themselves.

Makoto: because you said they wanted it to be fair.

Siramay: well yes but actually no cause the way I see it a rigged game is more despair than a fair one just to think it’s all for nothing, oh the tragedy. But they made it fair cause they wanna see if you can win now think about it what would they gain from you winning? nothing! Sure from what I know about them if you asked they’d spout some dumb stuff about “despair of losing” but… call me a fool but I think shes actually hoping you’ll beat her.

Makoto: what? But why would they want that?

Siramay: they feel despair from this to makoto, if you beat them they won’t have to make anyone suffer anymore. No one was able to beat them but maybe you can.

Makoto: but if they don’t want to do it they why don’t they just stop.

Siramay: do you ask an alcoholic why they don’t stop drinking? Or a smoker to stop smoking? or a drug addict why they don’t stop taking drugs?

Makoto: …

Siramay: exactly There is neither happiness nor misery in the world only the comparison of ones state with another nothing more Without hope despair wouldn’t exist because it's very being is measured by hope sure it's the absence but if it were to not exist at all then who's to say despair exists it's like knowing you’re not evil but if evil didn’t exist I can’t call yah good like hope to what I mean to say is Without night who's to say the light is bright?

Oh but look at the time where at the top welp time to make your grad reveal makoto! Oh and one more thing when you do face off against zetsu ask questions but don’t ask if you want an answer ask questions for what she will answer cause there’s no evidence she will say the truth or even anything that makes sense but if you just stop and think about it they actually do say a lot about her even if it’s not what you were asking.

And so makoto finally reached the surface world in the trash room and then kyoko tell makoto to reveal his presence to monokuma talking on how the mastermind is ensnared and so they planned to go to the gym.

Siramay: ok makoto you gotta be strong and intimidate the mastermind show they you know no fear you have seen the face of death and survived.

Makoto: how am I soused to show that.

Siramay: hmmmm……. OH I KNOOOWWW

And so siramay told makoto his plan as makoto went to the gym.

Makoto: whats up guys? I’m back.

Monokuma: what the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die!

Makoto: death is a social construct.

Siramay: OOOHH HE GOT YAH GOOD MONO! AHAHAHAH

And so monokuma and kyoko where debating makotos life and what it meant if he was killed again and accused monokuma of killing mukuro (the truth) and kyoko went on a bluff about hope and despair and peoples viewpoints witch I guess is a way to look at it I supposes as they were prepared for a final showdown and monokuma excepted of course but it was not just for the mystery of mukuros killer no it was also to find out all the mysteries of the school as we knew it!

Kyoko: When we've uncovered every last truth, how will the Ultimate Desberry reveal their own desrose...?

Makoto: do we really have to do that?

Siramay: I’m not giving monokuma the victory of me saying it one more time.

Monokuma: how dare you try and stifle my metaphorical robotic bear erection!

Makoto: I honestly can't believe how this has all turned out...

And then kyoko asked once more on the rules but while they beat around the bush I shall write in ink their statements if the mastermind is to get caught and in turn lose this trial, like every other failed blacked of the past trials they will die and just because they have status of being the big bad does not change their fate if they are to lose cause there a student to and other hidden things said but I won’t say those.

Monokuma: I'm done talking! I got nothin' left to say to you! So get lost, would ya!?

Makoto: Why so mad!?

Kyoko: He seems...emotionally unstable.

Siramay: NO KIDDING!?

And so makoto was free and they left so makoto thanked kyoko then they talked about how monokuma said this was displayed on the airwaves and how that proves he wants to prove something basically kyokos hypnotists on the mastermind but as its different from my own I will omit it and while this is a case of confirmation bias I as the king of villains do not care for this ethical dilemma and so they planned to meet the others, so they went to the dining hall and saw monokuma.

Monokuma: Skrgh@yaGfew, anji&\krakAW;! fzzlbRff#[]

Makoto: You again...

Monokuma: Hrskzzzz_dat.; EgspllER103.2.1.255

Makoto: Is he...broken?

Siramay: HAHAHAH their mad, you should see the look on their face! There all like

Siramay then pulls out a keyboard and starts smashing their face on it.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Hhhahahahahahahahah oh I love it!

Kyoko: I suppose his emotional instability reached its limit.

Siramay: oh sweet innocent naive kyoko, THERE STABILITY IS GONNA GET MUCH WORSE HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH quite the downward spiral.

Monokuma: aG^3. 4sum=(SEN|akt~____ 61!

Then monokuma left

Makoto: Jeez... What the heck?

Course all emotion began to rise with the reuniting of the survivor gang all glad to see makoto alive! though sadly they all backed away cause makoto was stinky from the trash.

Siramay: but you should shower makoto who wants to beat the mastermind all stinky like that.

So they all talked and reunited and then they went to important matters on how it was almost the final showdown to defeat the mastermind once and for all, so it was there job to search and find to discover the  secrets that lay barren or die trying though makoto was hopeful, but kyoko less so because they suspected one of them was the mastermind (though not true), but I digress then monokuma unlocked every room for the gang to investigate and then people started splitting up.

Siramay: don’t worry makoto you got me to help yah solve the mysteries of the school! And I got your back!

And so it was time for the final investigation bu bu bu bu bu bu bu bu bu bu bu bu bu it’s the final investigation!

So makoto had to go explore the locked rooms to learn the new lore so first things first he went to the second floor of the dorm room which looked quite like death,

Siramay: mmmmmmm

Makoto: what?

Siramay: with how destroyed these rooms are and with the fact there are 16 students and only 15 rooms I can’t help but have the awful thought in my head that she and mukuro slept together nooooooooo.

Makoto: oh

 there were also lockers but at the moment makoto was unable to open them then we finally got to the headmasters room where kyoko was in there trying to open a secret passage, but she couldn’t unlock the password then they talk about little info about the ultimate despair.

makoto: do you know anything about the ultimate despair?

Siramay: besides the fact their tragic jerks and I feel their name should be instead the ultimate depravity? no at least not anything useful at the moment.

So makoto was thinking on what the password for the computer could be and brought up kyokos name though kyoko did not believe this possibility when makoto tried it, it worked which intensified kyokos daddy issues, so they went in the secret room and while there where other things that looked interesting we had to look at the present in the center of the room witch kyoko warned him about it and when makoto opened it he saw THE BONEY REMAINS OF KYOKOS FATHER

Siramay: talk about an awkward “meet the parents situation” this is probably the weirdest one I’ve seen… well actually… nah nah not now you’ll understand later.

Needless to say this was all crazy but then he saw the tragic photo which made kyoko emotional.

Kyoko: *is angsty in daddy issues*

Siramay: you know zetsu had daddy issues too.

Makoto: really?

Siramay: yeah every person they ever called daddy died by their hands.

Makoto: I don’t like the way you worded that.

Siramay: I don’t like the way I worded that either.

So makoto continued to look for other things he even found an emergency handbook that could open everything. Then kyoko asked nicely if makoto could leave so she could be alone

So makoto left and kyoko was alone ;) to ponder her feelings for her dad.

[KYOKO] You were a sub-standard dad. But the only one I had I grew up hearing. Your evil scheming down the hall But when I look at this thing It makes me wanna sing. Maybe You're not so bad a dad, after all. At my first ever swim meet You stepped on the other teams' feet. At my recital You clapped louder than you should.

But this piece of plastic in my hand Makes me finally understand. Maybe you're not so bad a dad. Not so bad a dad after all

[mccnyoongi]

the yoongi thigh riding drabble 😫😫😫 sis ur tryna kill me alsooo i know u said ur trying not to go for the “riding yoongi in his studio chair” trope however i FULLY support indulging in this trope 😉 i rlly love ur writing tho omg 🥰

+ anon said:  hi im uh read your latest work and rEALLY LIKED IT so can i please request riding yoongi in his studio chair??? thanks if you would posts it!

+ another anon said: yoongi drabble, were where y / n and he have sex in his studio, pls?

hsfjksfh TWIST MY ARm why dont u !! (i told yall id do nasty soon) now i wanna write a multi-chaptered undergroundrapper!yoongi sjkfjsdf 

⇢ word count: 2K+ (lmao)

⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, dom!yoongi, starts SUPER soft then devolves into filth, undergroundrapper!yoongi bc ion like writing idol!au skdfjsdfk, degradation, yoongi’s hands

Yoongi’s passion has always been one of your favourite things about him- if he cares about something, he’ll give his all to it. Thankfully you fall under that category. The only question is whether you’re first or second on the list, constantly competing with his music.

With Yoongi garnering a fair amount of success from his life as an underground rapper, you understand why it’s starting to take over more and more of his life, you really do. You loved Yoongi, you loved his music. But you couldn’t help but start to… miss your boyfriend. A sad irony that you could miss the man who’s been, as of late, spending the majority of his time in his ‘studio,’ aka the spare room of your shared apartment that he said was about a quarter the size of a proper studio. 

How could you miss someone that was less than fifteen feet away from you, two doors away? You weren’t sure that it was possible until now, lying in bed, Yoongi’s side cold and the offensive red light of your bedside alarm clock telling you it’s far past the time your boyfriend promised he’d be in bed by. You sigh, sitting up, knowing that you wouldn’t get any sleep if you just sat there and stewed in your negativity. So instead you’d seek him out.

Thankfully there isn’t a lock on the door, he hasn’t gotten around to putting one in yet. You know the day will come soon, since last time your friends were over, Jungkook and Jimin had managed to sneak their way in, looking like guilty puppies when Yoongi had caught them. 

Lock or not, Yoongi didn’t even hear you, ears covered by his almost comically oversized headphones, his dyed blonde head bobbing to whatever beat he’s working on at the moment. You can’t help but smile fondly at the sight of your sweet boy so immersed in the thing he’s dedicated his life to.

He’s only made aware of your presence when you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind. He finally takes those ridiculous headphones off, pausing the track and letting you rest your chin on the top of his head.

You look at the two monitors in front of him as though you have any idea what’s going on on the screens. “Hard at work, huh genius?”

You feel him cock his head under you and he hums gently, one of his large hands- something about him you first fell in love with when you saw it, pale and slender, gripping a microphone on stage- grabbing at yours. “Sorry,” He mumbles, and you can tell by the timber and the gruffness of his voice that he hasn’t spoken a word since he came into this room a couple of hours ago. “Lose track of time in this room. No windows.”

“S’okay Yoon. Just missed you is all.”

Your words are innocent but they tug at his heart and make him shut his eyes for a moment. He never wants to make you feel like second best, but the way he falls into things sometimes makes him forget that anything else exists in the world. But now he wants to be close to you, to touch you, to make it all up to you. 

“C’mere,” He’s tugging at the hand he has in his grip, and he keeps tugging until you’ve circled around his chair to stand in front of him. “Up on my lap, babe.” An offer you couldn’t refuse. So you don’t.

You’re straddling him now, well-toned but not overtly muscular thighs under you- a familiar and welcoming seat of yours. His warmth is comforting to you and vice versa. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” You don’t want to say yes, afraid of hurting his feelings but the pout that graces your features gives it all away.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” One of his large hands comes up to cup your face, and he coos softly when you lean and nuzzle into his palm, as if he isn’t thinking of all the filthy and depraved things he’s been missing out on with you while he’s been cooped up in his studio. “‘M gonna make it up to you.”

And then his mouth is on yours, and you’re reminded why you love kissing Min Yoongi so much. He’s careful and intense, every movement backed by the same confidence and dominance he exudes when he’s on stage. It’s when you deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, skilled and tactful, that you realize you weren’t just here for a quick visit.

“Yoongi,” You murmur as soon as he’s pulling back, detaching your mouths. You’re momentarily hypnotized by the string of spit that still connects the two of you, staring at it until it breaks. Yoongi notices this fascination of yours, and give you a smirk you regret ever confessing to him you find sexy. 

“Are you getting all desperate for me, silly girl? Hm?” You can’t help but rut your hips against his own at the words, loving the way they fall out of his mouth so lazily but with as much purpose as a presidential speech. “So needy ‘nd squirmy for me… Love seeing you so fucking desperate, you know.” His hands are travelling up your sleep shirt- aka an old band shirt of his that you had staked your claim over before the two of you had even moved in together.

His hands don’t go where more inexperienced ones might immediately go but instead traverse up and down your back, leaving delicious goosebumps in their wake. You shiver both from the feeling, and from the anticipation of what’s to come. You go to take your shirt off but are stopped by two hands circled around your wrists. “Patience,” Yoongi’s voice is next to your ear now, as he’s pulled you down using the grip he has on you. 

He’s made it clear that while you may be on top of him, he’s the one with control. And he’s fucking revelling in it, you can see it in the sparkle in his eyes as he lets go of your wrists. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you, I promise,” You trust him wholeheartedly, and communicate this with a nod. You know he understands when his hands slide down, under your shirt once more, this time staying far lower. 

“Soaking wet and I’ve barely even done anything,” He’s so cocky and you should be annoyed but you can’t find it in you, instead you feel yourself get even hotter at his words. “Panties off, little girl.”

His tone leaves no room for arguing, so you scramble to stand up and follow his demands, panties lost somewhere behind him. You go to get back onto your spot on his lap, missing it already, but are stopped once more by his hands. One is on your waist, holding you steady, only using a portion of its strength and the other is on your face, squishing your cheeks, opening your mouth and pushing your lips out obscenely. 

He looks like he’s still deciding what the hell to do with you, how hard to go. Then he’s cocking his head, brazen smirk back on his face as he pushes you down to your knees. The carpeting immediately makes the position uncomfortable as you feel it grating against the skin of your knees. But any discomfort is immediately quelled, or, at least, forgotten, at the sight and sound of Yoongi undoing his belt in front of you- any thoughts of your knees and carpet burn are replaced with the thoughts of Yoongi’s cock. He had that effect on you.

He chuckled at the look in your eyes, finally releasing himself from the confines of his jeans. He sighs at the release, cold air hitting his skin a shock to his rock hard dick. “Practically fucking drooling for this cock, aren’t you?” You nod earnestly and lean forward, towards his cock where his hand works over it lazily. He grabs a fistful of your hair with his other hand, withholding you from what you really want. “So fucking desperate, you slut. You wanna suck my cock so bad? You better do a good fucking job of it, convince me you deserve it in that slutty cunt of yours.”

You barely have time to think about how quickly he shifted from the sweet, loving Yoongi you normally know to this darker version of Yoongi, the one that comes out whenever he’s properly turned on before his hand that’s fisted in your hair is dragging you toward his achingly hard cock. You open your mouth, ready and willing, and mouth at his tip, letting your spit, your drool, collect and fall over it, dripping down the rest of his impressive length. You pull back to give the tip a gentle kiss, barely holding back a giggle when it jumps angrily at you

He breathes out heavily from his spot above you and yanks you back off his cock. “You wanna be a messy fucking tease? Fine. Open your mouth. Now,” You do as he says, not wanting to anger him further. 

He collects spit in his own mouth, and you're made to sit and wait patiently, hair a mess and mouth wide open. You don’t have to wait long until he spits into your mouth, the act so filthy, so dirty, you can only close your eyes and whimper, so turned on from it all that you can feel your own wetness starting to drip down your thighs. Messy. “Don’t swallow,” He doesn’t need to explain more as he leads you back to his cock.

You let the combination of your and his spit fall onto his cock, the act obscene but astoundingly erotic. You finally start to swallow down his length like you know he wants, your hands coming up to help. Both of his hands are in your hair now, entirely controlling your actions, the speed of which your sucking his cock.

He finally pushes you down as far as he can, your hands falling to his thighs. Your nose is against his stomach, tickled by the sparse amount of hair there. You can barely breathe from this position, but you take it if only for the groans you hear tumble out of his mouth. “Such a good girl, my best fucking slut,” You moan at the praise, the vibrations making his head fall back on his chair. There’s drool covering both him and your face now, tears welling at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, and every second you can feel yourself getting wetter.

His hands fall slack on your hair, but you don’t pull back just yet, instead, taking the opportunity to swallow around him once, twice, three times. He yanks you off of his cock, his breathing ragged and heavy. He looks at you with a half-lidded gaze. “Up.”

It’s only one word, but he doesn’t need anymore, not with a commanding tone like that. You get back on his lap, immediately calmed and comforted by the spot. He finally tears off the shirt, now wrinkled and covered in drool and precum. 

“Now fucking sit on it,” And you can hardly hold yourself back, eagerly lifting yourself up and positioning the head of his cock against your slick entrance. You let yourself fall, the whole of him filling you up perfectly, and so so good.

Yours and Yoongi’s groans mingle together in an unrivalled harmony, the two of you still for a moment as you bask in the feeling. “Being such a good fucking girl,” His hands work up and down your sides. “Now fuck yourself on my cock, and don’t you dare stop. Don’t stop until you full of my fucking cum, ‘till you’re my perfect, messy bitch.”

You start slowly, lifting yourself up until barely an inch is left in your pussy, and drop all the way back down. You continue like this, deep, strong strokes, slowly speeding up until your bouncing on his lap, the obscene sounds of the two of you filling the room, your very own symphony when combined with your groans.

“So good, baby, so fucking good, bouncing on my cock, gonna make such a fucking mess out of you, yeah?” He’s lifting his hips to meet yours, making every downstroke that much more intense. 

He lands a spank on your ass, then another, the sharp pain only serving to make you wetter and bounce on him harder. He chuckles in between moans. “You like that, huh? You’ll take anything I give you, ‘cause you’re my perfect little whore.”

You can feel the crescendo coming, building up like a tsunami. “Yoongi- Yoongi please, please, you have to let me come,” Any other time you’d have reservations about begging, but when it came to Yoongi, all pride was left at the door. “Need it.”

“I have to? I don’t have to do anything, whore,” His hand is back on your face, lips puckering out again. You nod in desperate agreement. He’s collecting spit in his mouth once more and you open your mouth wider in anticipation of what’s about to come. He spits in your mouth again, this time wanting you to swallow. It’s a dirty act, so vulgar, and you both groan at the site.

“You see that, slut? You swallow my spit, bounce on my cock and cum for me, all when I fucking tell you to? You understand?”“Yes, Yoongi I do, I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry, jus’ lemme cum.”

“Yeah, yeah, do it, fucking come for me.”

And cum you do, the feeling washing over you like nothing else, eyes closing and your head burrowing itself into Yoongi’s neck, the smell of his sweat comforting. You can hear Yoongi talking himself and you through your orgasms, but the words are too much for you to focus on. You can only feel his cum fill you up, already starting to spill out of you.

You’re both panting in the aftermath, his hands, once harsh, now softly caressing your back. The two of you are slick and sticky with sweat, but it’s the last thing on your minds.

“You still need to work on that song or are you finally gonna come to bed?”

“Please, neither of us are leaving that bed for the next 48 hours, besides to get the door for the take out we order.”

“Sounds perfect.”

[frasier-crane-style]

oKAY, I got a few Redbox rental for my birthday, so I decided to pick up Spider-Man: Far From Home, skip all the Disney Channel Original Movie stuff, and see how it stacks up as a pure Spider-Man movie. Which is not easy, because they’re in full Marvel movie mode, and every two minutes there’s a wacky aside or a sight gag or something. It’s not even Peter making jokes, which would be in-character. It’s just banter about Happy’s password being Password and stuff. There’s not one wholly dramatic scene in this movie, it has this Epic Movie sense of humor where something ‘hilarious’ is always defusing the tension. Like, all that’s missing is Leslie Nielsen being the tour guide.

1. Mexico. Mysterio has used ‘Sandman’ (confusingly referred to as a ‘cyclone with a face’--and then Spider-Man never even fights him) to destroy a town. I gotta say--if Mysterio has the ability to pull off no-bullshit terror attacks... yeah, the Sandman is fake, but the damage is real... why not just do that? It seems like there are a ton of evil organizations who would pay him loads of money.

2. Also, Mysterio is really not shy about lowering the dome and showing his face. Wouldn’t a quick facial recognition scan, of the kind that you’d think Nick Fury would run all the time, ID him as Quentin Beck? And even if he’s going “hey, that’s my double, I’m from an alternate universe,” shouldn’t Nick Fury be a bit suspicious that the double of this mysterious new superhero is a disgruntled and unstable Stark employee?

3. By the way, I know the twist is that Nick Fury is really a Skrull and that’s why he’s so incompetent--telling Peter to take his mask off in front of fucking Mysterio--but Nick Fury left a Skrull playing him, so... who’s that on? You’d think any given Agent of SHIELD would do better.

4. First action scene. Hydroman attacks Venice and is defeated by Mysterio, with Spider-Man slightly assisting. He’s left his costume back at the hotel, so he does this while using a Venetian mask to disguise himself. Hilariously, he quickly takes this off to, yes, show us his face. (Also, I guess no one notices that Not!Spider-Man is wearing the exact same clothes and has the exact same body type as Peter.) He also doesn’t make any quips besides referring to himself as “really strong and sticky.” Being awkward is not a one-liner, movie. 

5. Also, others have pointed out that this Spider-Man seems more concerned about saving property than saving lives, and it must be said that for much of this fight, Peter is trying to stop a belltower from collapsing, with no sign that he’s buying time for people to evacuate it or anything. Sure, it’s a worthy goal and all, but I have to ask how much good patching a belltower up with webbing is going to do? It’ll dissolve in an hour and then where are you? Does he really think the authorities will be able to fix it up before then? Seems like he would be better served letting it collapse and attacking Hydroman to keep him from doing more damage.

6. You ever notice how movie characters always refer to sleeping pills and such as ‘a mild sedative’? Naut Fury shoots Ned/Ganke with a dart that instantly knocks him out, then calls it “a mild tranquilizer.” Christ, what would a strong tranquilizer do, put him in a coma for ten years?

7. Man, it’s weird how inconsistent this movie is with basic characterization. Peter turns down saving the world because Spider-Man being seen in Europe might give away his identity, but he’s also blase about taking off his mask in front of Nick Fury and co. And Tom Holland walking around unmasked really makes it obvious that his suit is a CGI effect that his head is awkwardly hovering on top of. I guess just putting someone in a costume is a lost art.

And I’m not even watching this on Blu-Ray. This is a DVD, because Redbox is shit and, even though their e-mail said the promo code was good for a Blu-Ray, apparently I can only use it for a DVD. Thanks, thanks for ruining my special day. Prats.

8. I know the whole EDITH thing has been meta’d elsewhere, but I just want to point out that Stark Enterprises has a ‘global defense network’. With drones and backdoors into every telecommunications company. Imagine if Microsoft announced that, oh, hey, we have a Panzer division. I guess Stark Enterprises is a PMC now? I thought they went into clean energy. Apparently they still make weapons, but now they... hoard them to use for their own purposes? Not creepy at all. Like, Marvel does realize they are writing an evil megacorporation here, right?

9. Oh, now we’re just getting aggressively stupid. Peter is met by a SHIELD agent who insists that he strip to change into an alternate, non-Spider-Man suit (so I guess, after an action scene where he’s in civilian clothes, now we’re going to get one where he’s in this spy costume. Yeah, I hate seeing Spider-Man in a Spider-Man movie.) I’m not sure why he has to do this now instead of simply putting the suit in his backpack. I’m also not sure why he has to strip in front of her. He doesn’t even try to go somewhere private to change and she doesn’t say anything like “Why are you taking off your clothes in front of me like a retard? Go around the corner or something, fuckwit.” It’s all to set up a scene where Peter gets seen by his (sigh) rival for MJ’s heart, who takes a cell phone picture, leading us to... well, leading me to wonder why they couldn’t have put a little more thought into staging this scene so it was slightly believable? Like he could have trouble putting it on in private, the female agent could go to check on him, and Random Non-canon Character could stumble in on them that way. But anyway.

10. With literally insane ease, Peter designates Brad a target and EDITH launches a drone strike on him. For various ridiculous reasons, Peter can’t just say abort, so he eventually distracts EVERYONE by saying there are baby mountain goats, webs the drone while no one is looking, and--that works. No one notices.

Man, that’s some fucking weaksauce.

11. I’m fast-forwarding a bunch, but we seem to spend a lot of time on Peter trying to get his friends out of harm’s way for the upcoming fight scene in Prague, only for them to end up in harm’s way. For the second action sequence in a row. It seems like he could’ve succeeded and then just been trying to rescue normal civilians instead of people he knows personally, but then I guess we couldn’t have Ned and Betty/Gwen providing odious comic relief every other moment. Like, shit, Marvel, if you like dumb jokes so much, why don’t you just get Mike and the Bots to riff your movie? That’s pretty much what you’re doing anyway.

12. Peter’s new costume has no fingers on the gloves, so he’s leaving his prints everywhere. And then after the fight is over, the first thing he does is unmask and go out to get a drink with an also unmasked Mysterio in a crowded bar (hilariously, it literally turns out to be full of enemies who mean him harm). Jesus, movie, does he care about his secret identity or not? 

13. Also, again, no quips from Spider-Man. And I thought the watchword for this corner of the MCU was that he was a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Now he’s fighting giant monsters? Yeah, even if it’s a con job, it’s a con job that could potentially kill millions of people. Doesn’t that seem like absurdly high stakes, considering? Remember the first Spider-Man movie, when the only stakes at the climax were Peter saving a bus full of kids and MJ? Would that really have been better if there’d been another five million buses the Green Goblin was threatening to drop?

14. We’re doing the whole “does Peter want to be Spider-Man or not?” story again. It’s weird how markedly inferior this take on that is to Spider-Man 2. This Spider-Man has a whole spy network and AI satellites backing him up (which doesn’t stop him from remarking that Mysterio is “the only one he can talk to about superhero stuff,” as if fifty people don’t know who he is). Maguire’s Spider-Man’s life was genuinely shitty because of his superheroing; he couldn’t be with the woman he loved! This Spider-Man... can’t mack on the girl that he inexplicably has a crush on out of nowhere. Not exactly the stuff of great drama.

15. Pause to point out what a naked plot device Tony giving Peter EDITH is. He couldn’t give it to Pepper? Rhodey? Steve? Like... anyone who’s more emotionally mature and experienced? It’s just a ridiculous conceit. Supervillains literally target Peter specifically because he possesses EDITH. Way to put the crosshairs on a sixteen-year-old boy, Tony ‘Depraved Indifference’ Stark.

16. “To my very wealthy crew!” Okay, so I guess Beck isn’t just doing this for the satisfaction of being a fake superhero, he sees this as enriching him and his henchmen somehow? How? It’s not like Captain America or Scarlet Witch are fabulously wealthy. I could see Stark as paying for their room and board and giving them an expense account, but that doesn’t seem worth going to the trouble of this whole Mysterio business for. Like I said, once you have the power to pull off fake/not-fake terror attacks, that’s a golden ticket already. Why couldn’t he do shit like Le Chiffre was doing in Casino Royale, playing the stock market with his fake catastrophes? 

16a. And okay, so you say the whole Mysterio thing was just to con EDITH off of Peter. If they’re already able to pull off these terror attacks, how much more can EDITH do for them? It’s like, you already have essentially unlimited resources as far as the story’s concerned--why do you need EVEN MORE unlimited resources?

16b. And is Mysterio going to be a real superhero or fake? Like, is he potentially going to fight Thanos or someone? Because if he is, the whole Elemental thing seems like an unnecessary risk. Just find some HYDRA guys, go to town on them, bang, you’re a superhero. And if you’re going to be a fake Avenger--well, what do you do when Thanos shows up? Call in sick?

17. So in his new, definitely Miles Morales suit, Peter has the ability to send out a destructive electric charge. A venom blast. He has a venom blast. Man, they’re not even trying to hide that this is white Miles Morales, are they? 

18. To damn with faint praise, I thought the drone swarm was a good ‘real-world’ explanation of Mysterio’s power set and the ‘nightmare’ sequence was a good use of them, although it’s just the usual hallucinatory imagery you’d expect from someone with an illusion gimmick, not something as groundbreaking as the Raimi movies offered. Coincidentally, this is also the one action sequence in the movie where Peter’s in his classic costume, and that’s only an illusion Mysterio puts over his dumb Night Monkey suit. 

I also think Peter being able to survive being hit by a train more or less uninjured--he just needs a few stitches!--is a bit much, but then, that happened in Spider-Man 2.5 as well. And there they made a big deal of Peter and Ock trying to avoid getting hit by trains, so arguably that was more egregious. 

And it’s weird to have such a self-aware, genre-savvy villain just assume Peter is dead. It seems like he could’ve at least sent someone to the next station to confirm his death, or even had someone waiting there, if his plan all along was to hit Peter with a train. (Also, I’m pretty sure train conductors stop the train when they hit someone, but maybe that’s only an American thing.)

19. By the end, Mysterio decides to drop the whole illusion thing to frame Spider-Man for the drones (Peter’s friends are also put in danger yet again. Three times in one movie! That’s basically every action sequence that really happens!). I’d think disorienting people with invisible drones would be an advantage you wouldn’t want to just get rid of, but he’s the supervillain, not me. Noticeably, this plan hinges on him dying and posthumously ruining Spider-Man’s life, so...

20. Also, I complained about this with Captain Marvel, but if you’re doing a two-hour movie with a supposed character arc for Peter, shouldn’t that have something to do with him winning? He pretty much only wins because the power of spider-sense which he arbitrarily received arbitrarily works for him after arbitrarily not working for a while... and if this is some kind of confidence-powered superpowers, I should note that Spider-Man 2 already did Peter losing his powers because of losing confidence and it depicted him getting them back much more effectively. This Peter I guess only needs a pep talk from Happy Hogan.

21. I mean, couldn’t they bullshit something about hacking EDITH--you know, Peter using his wits since that’s what supposedly makes him ‘the next Iron Man’--maybe turning the tables on Mysterio with a con job of his own, instead of just winning because he happens to have an illusion-proof superpower on top of a billion-dollar supersuit and a literal global defense network? Spider-Man has a global defense network, y’all. How can you lambaste Man of Steel for making Superman dark and broody and then think Iron Man Peter Parker is a good take on the character? Geez.

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

S/O walks in a WTF moment in front of the Papas+Copia doing something embarrassing. How would they react, and how would they go about it knowing their S/O has seen something they shouldn’t. It could be either be something dirty, funny, or just plain weird. I just want a good laugh.

This was such a good idea thank you for it

Papa I: It’s been talked about before on this blog plenty, but the eldest Emeritus brother is an avid knitter - but only in secret. He does it at home when he’s alone sitting in his recliner, with glasses barely hanging on the bridge of his nose, a lamp on beside him, while Family Feud plays in the background. And one evening when he was working on a new scarf pattern - some of his best work yet, he thought - his s/o decided to use the key they have to his house and surprise him with takeaway dinner! He is absolutely mortified to have a single soul know about his hobby, and if he didn’t love them, he’d kill them. He insists they get all their laughing done now and swear to never tell another living soul as long as they both shall live. But its nice not to have to hid his needles and yarn every time they come over now.

Papa II: His hidden secret is that he dances. But in true II fashion, only to certain types of music, and only does certain styles of dance. He loves swing dancing and classic ballroom, and in his spare time he’ll watch videos of it on Youtube, when he can figure out how it works. On a particularly good day while he was tidying up his office, he caught himself doing a few little hip twists, and suave spins, and hand motions. But his s/o caught him too. Dancing around alone in his office like senile old man. He is so embarrassed he grabs his things and goes home immediately. No matter how many times they call or promise it wasn’t weird, and that dancing is a normal symptom of being alive, and that it was cute, he won’t listen. It will take him years to recover from this one, and he’s not easily embarrassed. 

Papa III: I think it’s hard to embarrass this man. He’s confident and extremely open about his likes and dislikes, and doesn’t even have a single guilty pleasure because he isn’t guilty about anything that brings him pleasure. The only ways I can think of embarrassing him would be if his brothers/nihil caught him doing something sexual that was a little more than a little depraved, or if he poured his deepest heart out to someone and they didn’t return the feelings. So i apologize for a let down on this one but unless you’re gonna break his heart or show Nihil what III does at the sex club every friday night, you’re out of luck with getting him to blush. PLEASE feel free to argue this with me id love to hear your thoughts

Cardinal Copia: This is his absolute worst nightmare. His s/o told him they wouldn’t be around tonight because they had a work thing to go to, so at the end of his day he thought he’d release some physical stress. He goes into his bedroom, maybe lights a few scented candles for ambience, and starts touching himself. But, the work function ended early, and they thought why not surprise their lover (And he’d been so pent up lately....) They walk in on Copia just as he’s reaching climax, and just lock eyes as he finishes. They’re staring in shock, he’s just frozen solid. “well if you wanted it that bad. why dont I help?” Copia is too terrified to be able to have sex ever again for the next ten years and pretty much kicks them out. He sends them apology flowers and sorry cards and calls them twice and hour to tell them how awful he feels about what they saw. no matter how many times they say its okay and that it was maybe even kinda hot, he will never stop feeling a little gross about it. 

- Kat