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tender-rosiey · 1 year

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pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo

satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.

today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.

he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”

you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.

thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.

he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”

a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.

a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”

his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”

“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”

his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.

however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.

ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.

he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”

you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”

you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”

so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.

he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.

when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”

he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.

not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”

it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.

your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.

the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”

he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”

“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.

they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

satoru is pulled back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.

luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.

laying on the ground.

presumably dead.

with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.

you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”

he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”

they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.

you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”

he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”

you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”

“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”

“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”

he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“

“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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stephobrien · 7 months

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Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that.

Note: If you prefer plain text, you can read the plain text version here.

Over the last few days, I’ve had conversations with several Jewish people who told me how hurt and scared they are right now.

To my great regret, some of that pain came from a poorly-thought-out post of mine, which – while not ill-intentioned – WAS hurtful.

And a lot of it came from cruelty they’d experienced at the hands of people who claim to be advocating for Palestine, but are using the very real plight of innocent Palestinians to harm equally innocent Jewish people.

Y’all, we need to do better. (Yes, “we” definitely includes me; this is in no small part a “learn from my fail” post, and also a “making amends” post. Some of these are mistakes I’ve made in the past.)

So if you’re an advocate for Palestine who wants to make sure that your defense of one group of vulnerable people doesn’t harm another, here are some important things to do or keep in mind:

Ask yourself if you’re applying a standard to one group that you aren’t applying to another.

Would you want all white Americans or Canadians to be expelled from America or Canada?

Do you want all Jewish people to be expelled from Israel, as opposed to finding a way to live alongside Palestinian Arabs in peace?

If the answer to those two questions is different, ask yourself WHY.

Do you want to be held responsible for the actions of your nation’s army or government? No? Then don’t hold innocent Jewish people, or Israelis in general (whether Jewish or otherwise), responsible for the actions of the Israeli army and government.

On that subject, be wary of condemning all Israeli people for the actions of the IDF. Large-scale tactical decisions are made by the top brass. Service is compulsory, and very few can reasonably get out of service.

Blaming all Israelis for the military’s actions is like blaming all Vietnam vets for the horrors in Vietnam. They’re not calling the shots. They aren’t Nazis running concentration camps. They are carrying out military operations that SHOULD be criticized.

And do not compare them or ANY JEWISH PERSON to Nazis in general. It is Jewish cultural trauma and not outsiders’ to use against them.

Don’t infuse legitimate criticism with antisemitism.

By all means, spread the word about the crimes committed by the Israeli army and government, and the complicity of their allies. Criticize the people responsible for committing and enabling atrocities.

But if you imply that they’re committing those crimes because they’re Jewish, or because Jewish people have special privileges, then you’re straying into antisemitic territory.

Criticize the crime, not the group. If you believe that collective punishment is wrong, don’t do it yourself.

And do your best to use words that apply directly to the situation, rather than the historical terms for situations with similar features. For example, use “segregation,” “oppression,” or “subjugation,” not “Holocaust” or “Jim Crow.” These other historical events are not the cultural property of Jews OR Palestinians, but also have their own nuances and struggles and historical contexts.

Also, blaming other world events on Jewish people or making Jewish people associated with them (for instance, some people falsely blame Jewish people for the African slave trade) is a key feature of how antisemitism functions.

Please, by all means, be specific and detailed in your critiques. But keep them focused on the current political actors – not other peoples’ or nations’ political or cultural histories and traumas.

Be prepared to accept criticism.

You probably already know that society is infused with a wide array of bigotries, and that people growing up in that environment tend to absorb those beliefs without even realizing it. Antisemitism is no exception.

What that means is, there’s a very real chance that you will screw up, and get called out on it, as I so recently did.

If that happens, please be willing to learn and adapt. If you can educate yourself about the suffering and needs of Palestinians, you can do the same for Jewish people.

Understand that the people you hurt aren’t obligated to baby you. Give them room to be angry.

After I made a post that inadvertently hurt people, some were nice about it, and others weren’t. Some outright insulted my morals and intelligence.

And I had to accept that I’d earned that from them.

I’d hurt them, and they weren’t obligated to be more careful with my feelings than I had been with theirs.

They weren’t obligated to forgive me, trust me, or stop being mad at me right away.

I’ll admit, there were moments when I got defensive. I shouldn’t have. And I encourage you to try not to, if you screw up and hurt people.

I know that’s hard, but it’s important. Getting defensive only tells people you care more about doubling down on your mistake than you do about healing the hurt it caused.

Instead, acknowledge that they have a right to be angry, apologize for the way you hurt them, and try to make amends, while understanding that they don’t owe you trust or forgiveness.

Be aware that some antisemites are using legitimate complaints to “Trojan horse” antisemitism into leftist spaces.

This is a really easy stumbling block to trip over, because most people probably don’t look at every post a creator makes before sharing the one they’re looking at right now.

I recently shared a video that called out some of the Likud and IDF’s atrocities and hypocrisy, and that also noted that many Jewish people are wonderful members of their communities.

I was later informed that, while that video in particular seemed reasonable, the creator behind it is frequently antisemitic.

I deleted the post, and blocked the creator. I encourage you to do the same if it’s brought to your attention that you’ve been ‘Trojan horse’d.

EDIT: Important note about antisemitism in leftist spaces:

While it's true that some blatant antisemites are using seemingly reasonable posts to get their foot in the door of leftist spaces, it's also true that a lot of antisemitism already exists inside those spaces.

This antisemitism is often dressed up in progressive-sounding language, but nonetheless singles Jewish people and places out in ways that aren't applied equally to other groups, or that label Jewish people in ways that portray them as acceptable targets.

If you want to see some specific examples, so you can have a better idea of what to keep an eye out for, I suggest reading this excellent reblog of this post.

Fact-check your doubts about antisemitism.

Depending on which parts of the internet you look at, you’ve probably seen people accused of antisemitism because they complained about the Likud and/or IDF’s actions. So you might be primed to be wary, or feel unsure of how to tell what counts as real antisemitism.

But that doesn’t mean antisemitism isn’t a very real, widespread, and harmful problem. And it doesn’t mean many or even most Jewish people are lying to you or being overly sensitive.

So if someone says something is antisemitic, and you aren’t sure, I encourage you to:

A. Look up the action or thing in question, including its history. Is there an antisemitic history or connotation you aren’t aware of? For best results, include “antisemitic” in your search query, in quotes.

B. Understand that some things, while not inherently antisemitic, have been used by antisemites often enough that Jewish people are understandably wary of them. Schrodinger’s antisemitism, if you will.

C. Ask Jewish people WHO HAVE OFFERED TO HELP EDUCATE YOU. Emphasis on WHO HAVE OFFERED. Random Jewish people aren’t obligated to give you their time and emotional energy, or to educate you – especially on subjects that are scary or painful for them.

@edenfenixblogs has kindly offered her inbox to those who are genuinely trying to learn and do better, and I’ve found her to be very kind, patient, reasonable, and fair-minded.

Understand that this is URGENTLY NEEDED.

In one of my conversations with a Jewish person who’d called me out, they said this was the most productive conversation they’d had with a person with a Palestinian flag in their profile.

THIS IS NOT OKAY.

I didn’t do anything special. All I did was listen, apologize for my mistakes, and learn.

Yes, it feels good to be acknowledged. But I feel like I’ve been praised for peeing IN the toilet, instead of beside it.

Apologizing, learning, and making amends after you hurt people shouldn’t be “the most reasonable thing I’ve heard from a person with a Palestinian flag pfp.”

It should be BASIC DECENCY.

And the fact that it’s apparently so uncommon should tell you how much unnecessary stress and fear Jewish people have been living with because of people who consider themselves defenders of human rights.

By all means, be angry at the Likud, the IDF, and the politicians, reporters, and specific media outlets who choose to enable and cover up for them.

But direct that anger toward the people who deserve it and are in a position to do something about it, not random people who simply happen to be Jewish, or who don’t want millions of people to be turned into refugees when less violent methods of achieving freedom and rights for Palestinians are available.

Stop peeing beside the toilet, people.

#I/P #I/P conflict #I/P war #Israel #Palestine #Gaza #free Palestine #Israel Palestine conflict #Israel Palestine war #Jewish goyim solidarity #choose peace

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months

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How high on the clingy/protective scale these boys are …

Dick: a solid 8.5/10.

A very clingy bean.

Dick would be attached to your hip 24/7 if he could but he couldn’t answer that makes him sad.

In the wise words of @obsessedwithromance on one of my recent posts; ‘if Dick was a dog, he’d be a husky.’

And he’d make a very vocal husky at that with how often he whines and whinges whenever you tried to move from his grasp, acting as though every attempt in removing yourself from his arms were an attack against his character. So he will take personal offence to you wanting to leave him out in the cold and desolate place that was your bedroom. 💀

‘Stop trying to get out of my arms.’ He moans, tightening his hold on you as he buried his head into your neck, locking legs with you for extra measure. ‘Dick, I love you but you’re being too clingy for me right now.’ You reply and had just noticed the error of your ways almost immediately and were about to explain yourself but it was already too late, for you had set Dick the human husky off.

‘Me? Clingy? I thought you liked it when I was clingy? Why the sudden change? What did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?’ Dick began his tirade and you could only lay there and let him talk your ear off -and loudly might I add- about how you apparently didn’t love him enough, which was a bunch of bullshit, but dick was too in his feelings to listen to reason. You’ll have to kiss him to shut him up, there’s no other option.

So once he’s settled down, he’ll go back to cuddling against your back,smiling dopily while you could only congratulate for a job well done at defusing the situation form getting any worse. You love your dramatic human husky and you wouldn’t change anything for anyone.

Jason: 7.5/10 or a 8/10.

The only time you’re seeing this man be clingy as all hell if he’s in a particular mood and want your affection, which might as well be all the time with this man, or after a not so great nightmare.

He would wake up in a cold sweat and immediately look for you and hold you against his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear, only just until his breathing evens out and not so tense in the muscles. Until then he holds onto you tightly and familiarises himself with you in anyway that he could, whether that be counting your eyelashes, noting the different shades that make up your eyes and much more.

At least just enough to help him gain some sense of self and awareness that he was safe and sound from all harm.

Like Jaime, Jason would watch over you like a hawk as Red Hood without a shadow of a doubt, and Jason has his reasons to do so as he knows the type of people who litter the streets of Gotham at night like the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to subject you to that sort of life of constant fear of having to look over your shoulder in hopes that there wasn’t someone following you home.

For in his minds eye, he’s your sole protector and the one thing that stands between the scumbags of the street and you. Jason doesn’t take this position he’s given himself lightly, it’s unlike him to anyway, as your safety is his top priority and he’d do anything to obtain it; whether they way it’s obtained was morally questionable or not, he doesn’t care for as long as your safe, he’ll live to learn with having permanent blood on his hands.

Damian: 5/10 on a good day. 2/10 in general.

He’s not an overly clingy person. Protective? yes. Clingy? No. It’s just not in just nature and he can be very awkward going about it too.

Damian knows he doesn’t have to constantly survey you 24/7, he has more faith in you and your abilities then most. He knows that you won’t call upon him if at all when faced with a situation that you could easily resolve yourself.

However if you were to get hurt on his watch or otherwise, that’s when he gets slightly clingy and will attempt to be within any space with you possible. Damian shows care in a completely different way than most and will more or less act like a guard dog when it came to you.

This little dude will point his sword at anyone that comes into close contact with you while glaring at them, meanwhile you’re having to push the blade of his sword down and away from the poor victim, only for Damian to raise his sword back towards their throat once more.

‘Pack it in.’ You’d hiss.

‘No. You’re practically useless when hurt, so let me deal with this one.’ Damian said.

You purposely ignored the fact that he had just called you useless and instead pushed the blade of his sword down until it was pointing at the floor again. ‘He’s not even a threat, just a regular citizen. So you can stop it with the fear attics now.’ You told him in a hushed tone. Damian meets your eyes with a glare of his own. ‘How you can be certain he’s a harmless civilian? What if he’s a low life thug of an underground drug syndicate on the rise? You can’t allow yourself to trust every face you meet.’ He replies, not one to back down for anyone, not even you.

You sigh as you rubbed the sides of your head. ‘Well at least try not to cause more issue for your dad. I swear between you, Jason, Tim and Dick I don’t know who gives him the most grey hairs.’

Jaime: runner up for Dick’s crown with also a 8.5/10

He’s clingy in a sense that he fears of loosing you constantly.

Khaji-Da doesn’t make the situation any better as it only encourages Jaime’s Innate clinginess tenfold, and now Jaime can’t go a couple of minutes without offering to join you on wherever your going.

He just cares about you very deeply and wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he’d ever lost you despite having the ability to stop any harm from coming your way. So needless to say that you spend most of your time with him and his family is a severe understatement.

It’s not as though he doesn’t trust you, he wholeheartedly does, but that trust doesn’t extend to potential outside threats. Hell, he would even go as far as to watch over you as Blue Beatle, much to the behest of literally everyone that isn’t Khaji-Da because the scarab is just as clingy over you in a sense that you were Jaime’s mate and there for should be within close proximity to him at all times.

It’s endearing but I think it’s about time you told Kahji-Da to cool it on the whole threatening people you talked to with plans to eliminate them…

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twoyara · 2 months

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About how men rape women with “consent”

This post is not mine, but one radfem woman from our community. She works as a sexologist and shared her experience in her work. If you too are a sexologist, or even better, have some statistics on this topic, please share your experiences or links. ---------------------------------------------------------- "When I first started working, I discovered that many men had never experienced the need to refuse intimacy with a regular partner. That is, a man in counseling complains that his partner often refuses him, he attributes her refusals to personal dislike and faded feelings, and when he tries to turn the situation around and remember when he himself had to refuse her, he does not understand what we are talking about. Because he has never had to - he responds to the initiative of his partner every time and considers it a sign of love and attraction on his part.

I heard this very often, I couldn't catch the lie and at the same time I couldn't interpret it. They are not robots, after all, to be available 24/7 at all hours of the day and night?

One day a client in a session literally opened my eyes with one phrase.

She said: “I CAN SEE WHEN HE'S NOT UP TO IT.”

That's the secret. The notorious emotional service. Subsequently, and many other women have confirmed this in a targeted survey: when the desire for intimacy arises, a woman assesses her partner's condition BEFORE taking the initiative. If she sees that her partner is tired, sick, in a bad mood, or preoccupied with something, she does not consider it appropriate to offer sex. I have also heard from many women that in a situation when she can not clearly assess the state of the partner, she prefers to flirt, as if casually get naked, as if accidentally do something that usually arouses the partner. If there is no reaction to this, the woman usually refuses to take the initiative and solves her problems on her own, without forcing the partner to conflict and feel guilty.

Men don't want their partners all the time - it's just that no one gets in their underwear when it's inappropriate. No one forces them to think about sex when they don't want to think about it.

Men themselves don't usually check against anything but their own erections.

They don't care when to offer sex to a woman(the following is a real and far from complete list):

Who is asleep (well, seriously, I don't know any woman who would ever think of waking up a sleeping partner to satisfy her sexually);

who's back from her 24-hour shift;

who just finished cooking a holiday dinner for ten people;

who has a high fever;

who's been vomiting all day;

who is eight months pregnant with a complicated pregnancy;

who has undergone a termination of pregnancy that day;

who is in the terminal stages of cancer;

who's just had a pet die;

returning from the funeral of a beloved grandmother;

waiting for a call from the NICU where their (mutual!) child is (“Let's get a little loose while we wait”) - and so on and so forth.

It may seem like it's a matter of cognitive distortion, that they just don't get it….. But they do. I asked one of them once: does he really think that a person in such a state can want sex? Yes, it is clear that they don't want to, he replied, but I'm just in case - maybe it will work out. I asked him how he would react if it didn't work out, and he admitted that he would be hurt and angry. And that's another “secret” - why it does burn out. Because refusal will inevitably lead to conflict, and a woman often does not have the strength not only for sex, but also for an argument. When he offered sex, she basically can not get out of the situation without damage - either to be raped, or to deal with his tantrums and offenses. And unfortunately, sometimes the first one turns out to be the lesser harm."

#radblr #radical feminism #male violence #rape culture #femicide

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xshadowdelta · 29 days

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Former Manager

Part 2: Eyes on Me.

Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader (4.5K Length)

Your return to Korea was not turning out as you expected. Before your return, thousands, no, millions of possibilities and different scenarios had passed through your mind, some of them where you were benefited, and in others you were terribly harmed. However, you would not have imagined the current situation even if you had lived multiple lives.

Your brain hadn't stopped spinning since that “lunch” with Yuri in your office at noon. There were times when you seriously thought about taking the next plane and disappearing from that country forever, never to return. On other occasions, you told yourself that it wasn't a big deal, a simple mistake that wouldn't be repeated, and you would see reason with Yuri next time, without a doubt.

Your thoughts continued to torture you in the middle of the night, and before you knew it, you had reached your destination. You parked the car in front of the building whose address the GPS indicated, and you climbed the stairs of that apartment complex, stopping in front of one of the doors.

You looked down at the bag full of food and drinks that you were carrying in your hand, paying special attention to the soju bottles that stood out a little bit. A long sigh came from the top of your lungs. You relaxed your shoulders and pressed the house bell. “This is going to be a long night.” You still didn't know how true that thought was going to be.

"Who is it?" A voice on the other side of the intercom asked.

“There’s a camera right here.” You answered, bringing your face closer. “I didn't change that much over these years, noona.” You heard a giggle before the sound of the door opening.

You swallowed hard as you saw her standing there in front of you, offering you a smile, the same one as years ago, with no changes, along with those eyes that looked at you with a special shine.

She took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your body in a warm, welcoming hug, which you reciprocated only with your left arm, as the other one was still carrying the food bag.

“It's been a while.” Eunbi said this when she got separated from you. “You've even grown a little bit.”

“Yes, that's right…you're still the same.” You replied with a smile, annoying her, so she gave you a small playful punch on the shoulder.

“I'll take this, go ahead, the girls are already here.” She commented, taking the bag from your hand. You felt your hands brush against each other during the exchange.

You took off your shoes and walked behind her into the house, following and scanning her quickly. She was wearing a small top that highlighted her huge and magnificent breasts. Damn, you could swear she wasn't even wearing a bra. And a pajama pants that were quite short by your standards, leaving her thighs on display.

You mentally scolded yourself, this was not like you. Although it was not a crime to think that way about Eunbi, she was already a grown woman, really attractive as everyone in the country already knew, not for nothing sometimes she was trending.

“Girls! Guess who is here.” Eunbi announced as she entered the room, when you appeared behind her, you were greeted by numerous screams from feminine voices.

“The stripper has arrived!”

You let out an ironic laugh, looking at the author of that phrase and listening to how the other girls scolded her for saying something like that, to which she just shrugged her shoulders, sticking her tongue out.

“You don't change, right? Choi Yena.” You approached to greet the soloist, but someone got in your way.

“Don't move a muscle, I'm going first!” Exclaimed a girl with bangs and black hair standing in front of you with both arms outstretched, blocking your way.

“Always so indulged, Kim Chaewon.” You smiled as you hugged the leader of Lesserafim.

“You should start acting like a leader, unnie.” Yuri mocked her, sitting on the floor, eating some snacks.

Your gaze was directed at her, briefly remembering your previous meeting. Seeing you like this, she winked at you playfully. She wanted to upset you, but you had to be cautious or everyone would know that something weird was happening. Luckily for you, no one seemed to appreciate this little detail, and they continued with the discussion.

“This is an Iz*One reunion, I'm not a leader here.” She responded sulkily, crossing her arms.

“But you're still part of the unnie line, and you're not a baby anymore.” A third girl joined in to continue teasing Chaewon, you would recognize Lee Chaeyeon's thunderous laughter from miles away, whom you greeted with another hug, and finally Yena as well.

You could tell that not all of them were going to be present at this mini reunion, it was obvious because finding a space of free time for 12 such successful girls seemed impossible, that's why every time they met it was in small groups.

Nako and Hitomi had their jobs in Japan and were the most difficult to meet with the others, but this time Minju was busy filming a new drama while Yujin and Wonyoung were working overseas due to IVE's schedules.

You were chatting in the living room for a long time with them, catching up on your new job, and they were also telling you about their future projects and albums. Yena and Chaeyeon would have a couple of performances at some festivals in the upcoming weeks and Chaewon was in the middle of release a new comeback with her new group, which she was talking to you about, showing you photos and videos of her new members.

“He already knows me, I hope so.” You turned to face the owner of that voice. Sakura came out of the kitchen carrying some plates of food in her hands. Next to her, Eunbi and Hyewon helped carry the rest of the food and place it on the table.

“I'm glad to see you again, Kkura, you too, Hyewon.” The last one gave you a shy smile and a slight bow with her head, quickly putting her hands to her hair, pretending that she was caressing it up, when in reality there was no damage.

"It's time for the party to start!" Yena exclaimed, clearly excited, hurriedly grabbing a bottle of beer and pouring herself a glass. God, this was going to be absolute chaos.

You sat at the table, with Hyewon on your right, out of the corner of your eye you saw her holding a bottle of soju in your direction, you took your glass and brought it closer to her.

“Thank you so much, Hyewon.” You offered her a smile, which made her even more nervous. The bottle shook in her hands, but she was able to serve you without much problem.

“Oppa, now that you're back in Korea, we can play League of Legends again, right?” She asked, putting the bottle back on the table.

“OH!” Sakura exclaimed, joining your conversation. “I can't climb from silver, I need your help, Oppa!” You found her whining cute.

“Oppa, you have to come see my waterbomb performance, I'm going to do my best!” That was Chaeyeon demanding your attention. “Unnie, give me some advice.” That was directed at Eunbi.

The oldest member placed one of her fingers on her chin thoughtfully. What could be the best advice she could give her?

“Get a surgery to grow your breasts.” Yena mocked, causing a blush to appear on her leader's cheeks

“YAH CHOI YENA!” She screamed, offended, covering her chest with her arms.

"Don't try to hide it, unnie, you have your weapons, and you have known how to take advantage of them, we are not going to judge you for it, and if now you can invite us to these dinners, it's even better."

“Even so, it is too embarrassing and stressful that they are sexualizing you all day and discrediting my work just because of my body.” Eunbi complained, taking a sip of beer and angrily placing it on the table, causing a loud bang. “Damn press.”

“What do you think Oppa, Eunbi unnie's breasts are very pretty, right?”

You almost choked on the drink you were taking at that precise moment. That question caught you completely off guard, and the shock made you start coughing loudly.

“YENA!”

Dinner finally passed between talks, anecdotes, shouts and lots of laughter. There seemed to be no end to the beer and soju bottles, you were surprised how well most of them held up to the alcohol.

“Let's make a toast.” Chaeyeon proposed, standing up with her glass in her hand, and the rest of you quickly followed her example. Eunbi cleared her throat before giving the signal.

“Eyes on me!…” Everyone waited for the next sentence, but it never came since Wonyoung was not there to recite it. They laughed quietly, but their looks immediately turned sad.

“Manager-nim, tonight you are our guest, say a few words, please.” Eunbi invited you, trying to relieve the tension of the moment.

“Oh, yes.” You waited a few seconds while you looked for the right words, and when you had done it, you raised your glass.

“I couldn't be more proud of each of you, even knowing how really annoying you can be sometimes.” Some laughter was heard. “You deserve all the successes, past and future.”

The sound of glass colliding together preceded some sobbing. Sakura tried to wipe the tears that were coming from her eyes while Chaeyeon and Chaewon hugged her, also crying. Eunbi and Hyewon could control their emotions even in this situation, and on the other hand, Yuri and Yena tried to liven up the night again.

“No, no, no, no sadness, goodbye sadness, Yuri turn up the music.” Yena ordered, and Yuri instantly approached the stereo, turning it on and playing some songs that would change that atmosphere.

Hours passed, and just like that, the party was slowly coming to an end. One by one, the members were leaving Eunbi's apartment. The next day you had a free day, but the idols didn't, so with a lot of alcohol and food in their bodies added to a jumble of emotions, they had to go looking for a little rest before returning to the job.

You stayed, although, for a while longer, to help Eunbi pick up all the trash that was now flooding the living room of her house. Even now, you were helping with the dirty dishes.

“You really didn't need to help me, but thank you.” She commented, throwing the last remains of food into a garbage bag.

“Don't worry, I'm used to it.” You replied by leaving a new clean plate on the tray.

She walked to your side and, with a small jump, sat on the kitchen counter watching how you were washing the dishes. You looked at her strangely but quickly turned your gaze, embarrassed, back to the dishes, from that height her chest were the first thing that entered on your line of vision. Eunbi noticed this and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“You are so cute.” The blush on your face had already spread to your ears.

When you cleaned the last plate you stopped the faucet and the sound of water went away, you took a cloth to dry your wet hands and turned to face Eunbi again.

"You didn't answer Yena's question." She was the first to break the silence, staring at the kitchen ceiling and her dangling legs swinging back and forth in the air. You raised an eyebrow in confusion, and she looked back at you.

She moved forward a little, joining her arms to her body, making her breasts come together and protrude a bit above her cleavage, a mischievous smile adorning her face.

“About my breasts, do you like them?”

You felt your mouth go completely dry, you tried not to look directly at her tits, but it was practically an impossible mission, your neck was completely rigid, resigned to moving in another direction.

You had seen videos of Eunbi's performances from previous years in some important events, specifically the one in which she ended up with her shirt soaked, and her inner bra could be seen, and it was the outcome of that spiral of success that she obtained.

“Eunbi, this is not…” You were silenced or rather crushed by Eunbi's boobs, she was quick to grab the back of your head and bring it closer to sink it between those two glorious mounds.

Now you felt like you were short of breath, in every way. You tried to squirm looking for a way out, but that only caused Eunbi to moan with pleasure as she felt your face rubbing against her tits.

She released you from her grip and, startled, you took a couple of steps back, looking at her in shock and surprise.

“It's the first time you've called me, noona, before at the door.” Her voice was soft, and her cheeks were red.

“I didn't think it was professional to refer to you like that when we were working together.” You were trying to regain your composure.

She brought her hands up to her own breasts, grabbing and squeezing them in front of you, lifting her shirt to show them to you, and as you previously assumed she wasn't wearing a bra.

If this had been an animated TV show, streams of blood would be gushing out of your nose right now. Against your will, an erection was beginning to appear under your pants, she noticed this detail.

“It's too late now, why don't you let noona take care of you tonight?”

“Fuck, Eunbi noona, this is not right at all.”

“Looks like your big little friend doesn't think the same.” She smiled mischievously again, biting one of her nails, watching your erection.

You then cursed your hormones, your sexual instinct, and your entire body for having sent that large amount of blood to your penis. You were still hesitant, but your feet were already walking towards her again.

“You're a good boy.” She whispered when she had you right in front of her, wrapping her arms around your neck, looking deeply into your eyes. “It always has been.”

Her head moved over yours, joining your lips in a soft, warm kiss, a warmth that was soon replaced by passion and lust.

You leaned forward, resting your hands on the kitchen counter, one on each side of her body. Her hands caressed the back of your hair, messing it up completely. Your lips joined together relentlessly until you had to stop for a few seconds to breathe.

Still united by a thread of saliva that ran from your mouth to hers, Eunbi gave you a quick kiss making it disappear, uniting your foreheads piercing you with that lustful look that her eyes had adapted, both of you panting exhausted on the other's mouth.

"Why?" You dared to ask.

“Do you know how many men have tried to flirt with me in the last few years?” You frowned at her question, she caressed your cheek with one of her hands. “Exactly, it's just disgusting.”

“You, on the other hand, from the first day we met, have been so kind and nice to me and to all the girls, so cute, like that time you came into the bathroom while I was changing, you apologized a thousand times.” She laughed, kissing your cheek.

“Noona, I'm not even that good, just look at me, I couldn't resist even half a minute” Your words made her laugh.

“I didn't expect you to do it, I'm irresistible, don't you think?”

You smiled sideways ironically, defeated for having lost that game against her, you opened your mouth to respond but this time you were interrupted.

“Don't say anything, just please, fuck me.” Her voice, her look, everything about her was begging for you.

Your hands grabbed her hips and began to caress every part of free skin that was around her belly area, a sigh escaped Eunbi's mouth and your lips approached hers.

“I guess, I don't have a choice.” You whispered, ending the distance between your lips. This time the kiss wasn't soft or slow, it was needy and passionate. Your tongues rolled around each other inside your mouths, fighting shamelessly.

She broke away briefly to nimbly remove her top garment, grabbed your hands and placed them on her bare tits. Just with that first touch you realized how soft and firm they were and without a doubt, the biggest you had ever touched before.

“Go ahead, don't be afraid, play with them as much as you want.” She murmured with a soft laugh giving you permission.

You began to caress both breasts at the same time, she put her hands under your shirt, caressing the area of your exercised abdomen.

You noticed how her nipples became hard under your hands, giving them a little squeeze making her moan, you leaned your head towards her neck planting a few kisses.

“Fuck, you’re good.” She gasped as your tongue licked and ran along the length of his neck.

You lowered your head towards her boobs, grabbing one with your hand to put it directly into your mouth, sucking on it. After a few seconds you did the same with her other boob, Eunbi's hands continued caressing your head, crushing you against her breasts.

Your tongue moved in circles around the areolas of her nipples, giving them a few licks, raising goosebumps on her skin and making her moan audibly. You went back to sucking on her breasts for a short while longer, thinking that you wouldn't mind continuing doing this for the rest of your life.

Once her breasts were completely wet and covered in saliva, you suddenly attacked the area of her neck again. The way Eunbi kept moaning, this time just a foot away from your ear, was making you hornier, enough to move a naughty hand towards her crotch.

A high-pitched squeal of surprise escaped the idol's mouth as she felt your hand touching her pussy over her lower garment.

Your lips kissed her shoulders and collarbone when your hand began to move in circular motions over her pussy, noticing something.

“No bra and no panties, anyone would think you had it all planned, noona.” You murmured without stopping the kisses.

“It's much more comfortable.” She moaned. “For be at home.” She explained while moving her legs against the hand that was between them because of excitement.

You grabbed her hips to help her lift her butt a little and be able to lower those pajama pants until they touched her feet, hanging there. Once again, you resumed the task of caressing her pussy, now naked and incredibly wet, increasing the sound of the woman's moans.

You caressed her thighs with both hands and even with her sitting on the kitchen counter you crouched down until your face was at the level of her pussy, you looked up to look at Eunbi to ask her permission to continue but the way she was looking at you, made you knew that you didn't even have to ask.

You quickly buried your head against her pussy, hungrily licking everything you could reach, making her scream in pleasure.

Your tongue moved uncontrollably, licking the folds of her wet pussy, which was getting wetter by the second, mixing her vaginal juices with your saliva, falling in a river across the kitchen cabinet.

“Keep eating me like that, please, eat all that greedy pussy.” Eunbi demanded with a desperate tone.

Accepting her request without question, you continued licking her, sometimes giving your tongue a break by replacing it with a pair of fingers, masturbating her. Your tongue took over again, ready to take it to the next level, licking her clit causing Eunbi to scream louder, grabbing herself onto the counter and closing her legs, locking your head between them.

You placed both hands on the sides of her legs, applying soft caresses trying to calm her down while continuing to punish her clitoris, feeling how she really had little left to reach orgasm.

You left between her legs, standing up, kissing her lips again while you lowered your pants, which along with your boxers fell to the floor, releasing your 100% erect penis.

“I have birth control pills in my bedroom, everything will be fine.” Eunbi said, almost reading your mind because you obviously didn't have any condoms with you at that moment.

She spread her legs for you, parting her folds with her fingers, allowing you to enter her. Your cock rubbed against her fingers as you introduced it into her pussy, giving you an incredible sensation. You both gasped when your tip was inside her.

Carefully and slowly, you introduced the rest of your penis inch by inch until it was completely inside her, filling her with your cock. You grabbed her hips and she put her arms around your neck, you looked at each other, both smiling, she closed her eyes enjoying that sensation.

You withdrew most of your penis until only your tip remained inside her, and with a quick and strong movement of your hips, you reintroduced the entire length directly into her womb.

You continued doing it this way, slow and erotic, increasing the pace as time went by, when your bodies wanting much more. But Eunbi still had aftereffects from your previous great oral job, and you could notice how the walls of her pussy were contracted against your cock.

“Shit! Manager-nim, I'm so fucking close.” She whimpered against your lips. You interpreted those words perfectly, a clear warning that she wanted to cum.

Your pushes then became rough and ferocious, your lips were unable to silence Eunbi's moans, and her entire body began to shake without restraint, feeling the force of your attacks.

"Fuck! “I’m going to cum all over your cock!” She screamed excitedly, curving her body as she reached the climax, covering your manhood with her juices. She fell on your chest, hugging you, totally agitated, trying to catch some air.

You caressed her back with your penis still inside her, then grabbed her body and, in a show of strength, lifted her up off the kitchen counter. Surprised, Eunbi clung to you, and you hold her butt preventing both of you from going to the ground.

“Wait, I just came and…” She said but was unable to finish because your hips moved again causing your cock to mercilessly enter and exit her recently cummed pussy again.

"FUCK!" She exclaimed, throwing her head back in ecstasy, you surrounded her waist with your arms, pressing her as close as possible to your body, only separated by her breasts crushed against your chest.

You were pouring lust from your pores, your bodies were beginning to be sweaty and the smell of sex permeated the entire kitchen. Eunbi looked down at your sexes, watching as they came together again and again, watching as your entire cock disappeared into her pussy.

Witnessing that made her even hornier, and she threatened to cum again, but she managed to hold back. However, you had another idea in mind. Your hand spanked one of Eunbi's buttocks, making her gasp, and then your mouth reached one of her tits to suck it really hard.

The sperm began to accumulate at the tip of your penis, wanting to be discharged, something that happened after a few more thrusts, spilling everything inside Eunbi's pussy who, when she felt the hot liquid filling her, she gave in and came again.

After resting for a while, holding each other and exhausted, you managed to walk, carrying her to the bedroom. Once there, you lay her face up on the bed, and you removed your penis from inside her, causing a lot of your cum to come out of her vagina.

You thought it was all over, but the woman's look said the opposite. Even with signs of having shed tears, her eyes continued to glimpse an uncontrollable sexual appetite. She smiled mischievously, opening her legs completely, allowing you to see how her pussy continued pumping agitatedly covered in cum, was this girl insatiable?

But you weren't far behind, because that sight had made your manhood regain all its vigor, so that you didn't think about anything other than entering into her again, all at once with a strong thrust.

"God yes, it's that simple!" Eunbi watched you place your hands on her thighs, preventing her from closing her legs. From that position, she could perfectly see the way you buried your cock into her relentlessly.

Inside her, it felt slimy and sticky due to the previous load you had given her, this caused each insertion of your penis to make watery sounds that drove you crazy.

You bent down, practically laying on top of her, to french kiss her while squeezing her boobs with both of your hands. You had a sudden idea and pulled your cock out of her pussy, without paying much attention to her complaints about it.

You climbed onto the bed, placing each of your knees next to her body, and then inserting your penis between her tits.

Eunbi's hands grabbed each of her own tits from the sides, squeezing them to crush your cock against them and later swing them up and down, masturbating you in this way.

You were enjoying that titfuck so much, but your body was asking for more. You began to move your hips to the rhythm of Eunbi's tits. At this point your cock was getting very close to her lips with each coming and going, she noticed this and stuck out her tongue, licking your tip every time you reached it.

You moaned at how good that act was making you feel, feeling like you were about to explode.

“Noona, can I cum over your tits?” You asked with your eyes closed in pleasure.

She smiled tenderly, raising one of her hands to caress your cheek. You opened your eyes to see her again.

“Of course, baby, cover mommy’s boobs with your delicious cum.”

Those words were the trigger you needed, you grabbed your cock with your hand and after a couple of strokes you let out streams of semen that ended up on her tits, and part of her neck and chin.

She watched with her bright eyes as you unloaded on her mounds, reacting quickly to not waste any time and lick her own breasts, tasting the sperm that had spread.

With a tired sigh you lay down on the bed, and immediately Eunbi approached you, passing one of her arms around your chest, you instead surrounded her back with yours, bringing her closer to you to give her one last kiss on the lips.

“So…I'm better than Yuri?” She asked, breaking the silence, making your eyes open in surprise.

"What!? I mean…how you know that?” Your body tensed at that moment.

“Oh, that silly girl, she started bragging about it as soon as she saw me tonight, did she think she could beat her leader?”

“I can explain it…”

"No need, I'm not the one to judge what two adults do with their lives, let alone after tonight.”

She got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom under your watchful eye, she stopped in the doorway and turned to face you.

“Will you join me in the shower?” She asked, slapping herself on the butt and disappearing into the room. Like a flash you stood up and took off the rest of your clothes before following her, you were right, this night was going to be a long one.

#kpop smut #male reader #smut #izone smut #kwon eunbi smut #eunbi smut

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azulsluver · 2 months

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Ur bully au is so good I could slurp it up but it got me wondering

How would all the students react to the reader just. trying to kill themselves because of the endless torment? would they keep harassing? would they say something about it? or would they tone it down? I must know because If I was in that situation i know damn well unaliving myself would be the first option

There’s more than one asking but ima just get this over with

tw. yandere, attempted suicide, suicide, cutting, bully!characters, mentioned torture, humiliation, blood, slight gore, neglection, fucked up reader (deadass).

Here are some thoughts and reactions bellow!

When asking, what role does this character do in this so called ‘bully!au’? You have to look at a deeper perspective of how each person behaves, what the intention is, and how it’s done.

So when the subject of suicide is involved it can get confusing depending on what caused it. Self worth is hinted in the reader, insecurities are brought and laughed at because it needs to hit a spot. Because YOU have feelings, watching it be stripped by people in far greater power than you, people with money, influence, and within number. Standing up to a bully is difficult, the struggles you go through should’ve been realistic.

When push comes to shove, they’re not all coming for you. If you enjoy the idea of every character ruining your life— that’s fine— but, it’s usually one or three. I think it’s childish, when I first made this AU, some sort of amusement in finding hurt but comfort when writing, they’re not trying to kill you, you know. You just catch their eye, more than they could like. Rejection is one thing, but another is a fair game of a sadistic approach. Whether they verbally or physically abuse you is up to place bets on what kills you.

For NRC years, yes, they constantly nagged and followed you around. But the times they would actively seek you out would be less than you think, the focus on bullying would be isolation. They don’t have to hurt you everyday. Some time for yourself to heal and think over your situation. What would you eat? Would they play nice and ignore you for tonight? Did your look piss off someone from afar? Let them cheat off you! Don’t be such a bore, it’ll all go back to just you and Grim.

If you picked up self harming, it’s noticeable. Hiding it is nearly impossible. They grab and bite at you already so what makes you think hiding was a good idea? It’s nasty and unplanned, miss them? Miss their touch that you havta recreate it? It’s horrible to mention, but caring really depends on who calls you out.

I can say you like it. Or you fucking hate it. You hate, hateee, how they treat you. You crawl on all fours for them to laugh and pat your head, do a dare and lick off from their hand but money is involved.

What did you do, was it simple, messy, perfect headshot if you will. If your need to die was to simply hurt them in any way— it might work. Poor them, they can’t imagine being away from you for too long. Some are more uninterested than the others. Who gives a shit you died? Whoever had the luck of finding you, dead or in the act, serves a purpose of letting you live or die. Cruel as they may be, you tug at a couple of heart strings.

Let’s say it was an attempt:

Sprang into action, either holding you down or taking whatever object you’re using to harm yourself. They’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again, you gave them quite the spook. Have fun being watched 24/7, and if they couldn’t, everything will be baby proofed for your safety, isn’t that nice, they care. Thrash all you want, screaming and crying won’t get you anywhere, but they’ll bite their tongue once and a while to prevent this from happening.

Trey, Riddle, Azul, Vil, Jack, Deuce, Sebek,

Oohh…he’s so sorry. Please forgive him, crying on his knees and rubbing his head against your chest. It doesn’t matter if the blood stains his clothes, you nearly died and he feels awful. He promises so many times for harm to look the other way, twisted, yet unavoidable. Trapped in a tight, monitored schedule were his scent and voice is all you’ll ever need. But at least there’s a change of heart, your health is improving and that’s all that matters to him, but speak to him, he wants to hear you.

Silver, Malleus, Kalim

Should he have stopped you, but what good will it do for him? Frozen in the moment, their bodies do the thinking, rational, to prevent you from escaping them. You’re funny, reaaal funny, got good jokes at time. But, he’s not really laughing. A little, but it’s hysterically funny and scary. Because he’s still so rough, even when he apologizes yet calls you stupid, his fingers hurt you more than whatever you had planned, gripping, as if you really died.

Jamil, Ace, Cater, Ruggie, Leona, Idia, Floyd, Epel

Does it hurt? Did you find your ulna? Was the rope too tight? It feels like he’s only here to see the end credits, the finale. The sick fuck is smiling too, gross. Giving up just leaves you with him by your side, pressing it deeper to help you get the job done…just kidding! That was quite a show you put on, this is why he likes you. Being responsible of another’s cause of death isn’t ideal, so he’ll try to watch you as of now.

Lilia, Rook, Jade

From that list alone you can guess who’s to mourn, and who savors what is left. Death is inevitable. Everyone dies one way.

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gnomewithalaptop · 2 months

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Y'know, it's so funny to me when people make out like Tim Drake would keep files on how to take down his friends when Tim has explicitly said he disagrees with Batman on this:

[Young Justice (1998) #36]

Like, yes, during his Red Robin tenure he does make a Hit List full of contingency plans for known heroes. But if you go and read that, you'll notice that, while the Justice League and Damian may be on there, Tim's own friends are decidedly absent:

[Red Robin (2009) #14]

In fact, a lot of these heroes are people that have either (a) attacked Tim specifically, (b) have a track record that includes turning evil/getting mind controlled, or (c) are on the JLA (meaning Batman probably already had those files compiled and Tim just stole them).

So yeah: Tim's not down with contingency-planning for his friends. You know which one of the YJ crew DID agree with Batman though? My favorite blorbina Anita Fite, aka Empress:

[Young Justice (1998) #36]

But yeah, this contrast is honestly fascinating to me. Because while both Anita and Tim have been shown to be incredibly loyal individuals, this exchange really highlights the fact that, between the two of them, Anita is far more likely to engage in this kind of pragmatism when she thinks it's necessary to get the job done

The whole Our Worlds at War arc actually does a really good job of illustrating how both of them react to betrayal from within. It's not just the Batman Files conflict either -- I'm thinking specifically about the hallucination-based torture Granny Goodness put them through, which showed them their worst fears. Most of the team ended up having to watch their loved ones die, but what's super interesting to me is that we really only see Anita and Tim hallucinate that their loved ones blame them for their deaths:

[Young Justice (1998) #37]

Like. It's not the same as a teammate turning evil at all. But it does give us a good idea of how they'd both react when faced with a friend or teammate doing harmful things, albeit on a smaller scale. Because where Tim kind of just accepts Superboy yelling at him and moves straight into bargaining for Kon's life, Anita actually flips the script, gets angry, and defends herself against her father:

[Young Justice (1998) #37]

(she actually gets so righteously pissed off that she manages to break out of the VR simulation Granny Goodness had her trapped in, but that's another point)

But yeah, it's super interesting, because by this point, both Anita and Tim have been set up to be very similar characters. They both can be a little bit obsessive, they both have some issues with boundaries and stalking (Tim with Nightwing and Batman, Anita with Cissie), and of the team, they're both portrayed as the "normal" members (Anita does technically have mind control powers but she barely ever uses them, and in a fight, she's basically just a very good, human-level fighter)

But at the end of the day, though Batman forces Robin to put on a cool front of objectivity, Tim (at least in his pre-grief-spiral era) ultimately wants to see the best in his team. When the people he cares about screw up, he wants to give them second chances. And when that trust gets broken, his first instinct is to try to use diplomacy, or, failing that, simply remove himself from the situation (as we see at the end of the Our Worlds at War arc when he quits the team)

Anita, on the other hand, while still incredibly loyal, does not hand out that loyalty unconditionally. We see this when she tries to keep her identity secret from the YJ squad, we see it when she gets pissed in Granny Goodness's hallucination when her father blames her for her mother's death, and we see it when she later blames Secret for her perceived role in Anita's father's death

Anita also happens to sit right smack dab in the middle of the YJ morality scale; while she's generally pretty chill and willing to abide by typical superhero codes of ethics (unlike Slobo and Secret), she's also been shown to bend those rules when she believes it's necessary (as seen here when she tortures and threatens to kill a man for trying to hurt Cissie). Ultimately, what this means is, between Tim and Anita, it's honestly Anita who'd probably be the most willing to put her personal qualms aside, buckle down, and go against her loved ones if it was the only reasonable option

Anyway. This is a really long-winded way of saying I think Gun Batman's biggest nemesis should be Empress

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fandomtrash-whataboutit · 3 months

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Please i need people to understand that the tragedy of robins is that their parents did love them.

Dick’s parents love him they didn’t want to leave him. Jason’s parents loved him, they didn’t want to be trapped in poverty and crime. Steph’s mother loved her, she didn’t think Steph would get caught up in her husband’s schemes. Tim’s parents loved him, they never meant for him to be as alone as he was. Cass’s father loved her, he wanted her to be as strong as she could be. Damian’s mother loved him, she was raising him in impossible circumstances. Duke’s parents loved him, they never planned to get caught up in the attack.

And yes, these situations are different. Duke and Dick’s parents were good people, Steph mom and Jason’s dad are sometimes depicted as abusive but at other times shown to be struggling with their circumstances. Tim’s parents and Damian’s mom were good people who should never have been parents. Cass’s dad was a bad person who shouldn’t have been a parent. With Cass, there ended up being abuse, and with Damian too because one way or another Talia or the league’s training and general way of life would’ve harmed Damian, and some depictions of Tim’s parents imply severe neglect. But deep beneath that, despite the circumstances and even the failure of the people themselves, they did love their children, and were trying in their own way.

Just like Bruce loves his children, and why I’m sort of against the terrible father depiction. Because I think he’s traumatized and his knowledge of parenting would give him a poor subconscious fathering ability, but CONSCIOUSLY he loves his children, and he would try. That’s the difference. All the robins were loved, but they all lost their parents anyway. And they all will be loved again, because even is he fails, Bruce loves them too, and he is trying to do right by them. He’s trying to make sure none of their stories are tragedies.

#i have so many feelings about bruce TRYING #and about the implication that even david(?) Cain loved his daughter #and Talia wasn’t cruel or evil but she was raising her son in the LoA #there is a middle ground #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #stephanie brown #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #batdad #batfamily #dc robin #robins dc

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smallpeniscollective · 10 months

Text

Raphael fuckers, come get y'all juice!!

another smutty Raphael/Haarlep blurb for a concept I CANNOT get out of my HEAD

ladies, gentlemen, and anyone else who showed up to the potluck, here’s some good old fashioned dp with Raphael and Haarlep

content: pov/2nd person, she/her pronouns, afab body parts, pet names, devil sex, fingering with claws (yeOWCH), orgasm delay/denial, p-in-v, p-in-a, double penetration, master/pet dynamic, and whatever else comes with sploinking the devil and his incubus

trigger warning for pain during sex and also for rough sex as punishment for stealing from the house of hope

(this kinda ended up Way longer than a blurb so please enjoy just some porn with barely any plot)

*~*~*

He could have whisked your clothes away in an instant with one of his usual theatrical snaps, but you could sense this was a power play, to make you feel your submission to him deep under your skin. Ravenous, glowing eyes watched as you undressed, making you feel suddenly shy and yearning to hide from his penetrating gaze.

“Oh, don’t be timid now, little mouse. You lost that right the second you entered my home without permission.”

While your terrifyingly hopeless situation had your blood running cold, you couldn’t deny that feeling the low rumble of his voice in your naked chest sent a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You continued to undress with averted eyes and shaky hands. When you dropped the last of your clothing onto a small pile on the floor, you managed to look up at him with anxiously rounded eyes.

“On the bed,” he ordered. His voice sounded cruel and cold, contradicting how intimate this felt to you.

You felt the sensation of shame drop your heart in your chest, unable to stop the panicked wondering of what your companions would think of their fearless leader degrading herself so willingly for a devil.

But your body acted of its own volition, obeying his orders and climbing into the bed rather ungracefully. You sat towards the edge of the bed on your heels, kneeling before him as if he were the answer to your prayers, despite him being the main threat to your existence in this moment.

He approached the mattress with slow and calculated steps while his tail swished behind him like an irritated cat. His wings extended out wide, encompassing you and blocking your view of anything but him.

His hand raised, and you instinctively flinched, only for him to slowly stroke his knuckles down the side of your cheek. His lips curled into a wicked grin in response to your fear. “Don’t act so scared, little thief. I won’t harm you… yet.”

Your heartbeat quickened in your chest at the promise of pain.

He gripped your chin tightly with his thumb and finger, pressing his claw into your bottom lip. When your lips instinctively parted, he dove in. You never expected his kisses to be gentle, but the scorch of his lips pulled a surprised noise out of you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let him consume you with greedy licks of his hot tongue.

His other hand grazed your cheek before tracing down the side of your neck, claws scratching against your soft skin as he slid that hand into the hair at the nape of your neck.

When your hands moved to touch him, he gripped your hair and yanked your head back harshly, prying your open mouth from his. You whimpered from the sting of your hair almost being ripped out.

“You will not move until instructed. Do you understand?”

You tried to nod your head, but his firm grip on your hair didn’t allow much wiggle room.

“Use your words, pet.” His eyes were half-lidded with lust, but the cruel glare shined through his fiery irises.

“Yes,” you squeaked. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at how weak you felt in that moment, when your entire journey seemed to have been about proving your strength.

“Yes, what?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes at you. He was searching for submission in your frightened eyes, attempting to crush any form of rebellion against him you had left.

You reactively gulped, mouth suddenly dry as you realized what he wanted. With your voice as meek and vulnerable as you had ever heard it, you whispered, “Yes, master.”

The sharp-toothed grin that spread across his face could only be described as pure evil. The hero of Faerun, the ender of the Shadow Curse and life-saver to any unfortunate soul who crossed your path, was nothing but a mere pet to their new master.

“I so enjoy that title from your lips, dearest pet,” he hummed.

Before you could think of any response, his heavy hands swiftly moved to shove your shoulders back, sending you flying into mattress. You landed with a gasp on your back, and he was quick to pull your legs towards him, spreading you wide for him.

He had been able to smell your arousal from the moment he laid eyes on you in his home, but seeing now how truly wet you were for him, slick dripping from your folds and smeared across your inner thighs, it seemed to boost his ego beyond his absurd level of narcissism. “My, my,” he mused, swiping a clawed finger along your drenched slit, “it seems you rather enjoy submitting to my whims.”

Without instruction to move, you gripped the silken sheets with quick, shaky breaths as he toyed with you. When his claw caught on your clit, you inhaled sharply and bit down in your bottom lip.

Suddenly, two large fingers were shoved into you, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you at the feeling of being stretched beyond what your own two fingers could manage. His pace was teasingly slow as he watched your body react to his touch, how your thighs trembled and your abdomen clenched. When his gaze shifted up at your eyes squeezed shut, he paused his motions. “Eyes on me, little mouse. You wouldn’t want me to take your averted gaze as disrespect, would you?”

“No,” you whimpered, opening your eyes slowly. When you met his eyes, his stare was downright predatory, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

“No?” he asked sharply, correcting your mistake of forgetting your manners. He forced his hand in deep, and you felt the tips of his claws press into your cervix in a warning.

“No, master.” Your brows upturned with an unspoken apology.

“Do not make me remind you again,” he threatened, digging his claws deeper into the flesh of your cunt.

“I’m sorry, master,” you whined. You could feel your walls throbbing around his hot fingers.

Satisfied with your reply, he continued pumping his fingers into you, letting his sharp claws freely scrape against your insides. Your moans mixed with winces as you experienced the pleasure mixing with pain in a way you never pictured yourself enjoying so much.

After what felt like an eternity of such sinful pleasure, a warmth bloomed below your stomach, pulling a string tight within you. When your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled them out, eliciting a pathetic whine from your lips as that feeling in your abdomen sizzled out.

“Fret not, dearest thief, we’re not done yet,” he murmured before stepping back from the bed and snapping his wet fingers.

A flash of bright flames sparked, and you recognized the devilish form that appeared beside the bed.

“You called, master?” Haarlep asked, shifting his gaze from the still-clothed cambion to your naked body with unbridled lust.

Raphael looked over at Haarlep, and you witnessed the possessive gleam in his eyes fade into something colder and strangely more distant in regards to his personal incubus. “I want you to fuck our little thief,” he said bluntly. “And do make sure she comes. It will make the next act of our torrid affair… easier to handle.”

His phrasing had your mind beginning to spin with worry, but before you could vocalize any concerns, Haarlep obliged his master. He crawled onto the bed with fluid movements and slithered over your smaller frame, lining up his already-hard cock with your soaked entrance.

“Wait,” Raphael barked. Haarlep turned towards his master, and you both watched as Raphael walked towards the side of the bed and snapped his fingers once more. An elegant chair appeared behind him, and he promptly sat, crossing his leg over his knee and curling his fingers around his chin as if he were in deep thought. “Now, you may begin.”

At his words, Haarlep turned back to you, smiling wickedly. “I remember you,” he said, his voice identical to Raphael’s but with more whimsy, “you were the little mouse who snuck around the cat’s house. How does it feel to be beneath his claws?”

“Haarlep, your order was to fuck her, not to make conversation,” You could hear the annoyance in his tone.

“Very well, master,” Haarlep said, before settling his hands on the plump flesh of your hips and pushing into you. The first thing you felt was the sting of the stretch, much larger than anything you had felt before. You panted between pained moans as the ridges and bumps that adorned his member dragged along your tight walls, and your eyes squeezed shut involuntarily in response.

“Eyes on me, pet,” Raphael said, and you obediently opened them once more, turning your head to face him as Haarlep ground his hips against yours to nudge his cock deeper into you. Raphael studied your face as your brows upturned and your mouth hung open in intense pleasure.

You could see outline of Raphael’s erection through his breeches; he was feeling every sensation that the incubus was as you were taken in front of him. Raphael's eyes remained on you as he demanded, “Harder,” but you could tell the order was not for you when Haarlep’s grip on your hips tightened. His claws left deep, crescent-shaped indentions as they dug into your delicate skin.

Haarlep’s sensual slower thrusting then became hard pounding, and the sound of wet skin slapping against skin began to fill the room, along with the noises he pulled out of you. Your knuckles turned white from the grip you had on Raphael’s sheets as your low moans morphed into cries of pleasure. Your eyes were still on his but beginning to blur with tears as he watched you be fucked relentlessly by his copy.

Raphael let out his own quiet groans as he felt the sensation of your phantom cunt squeezing and quivering around him. He smoothly uncrossed his legs, spreading his thighs in a deliciously dominant way and untied the string to his breeches to free his aching cock. Precum leaked from his tip as he lazily stroked his shaft.

“Touch her,” he ordered Haarlep. You grew somehow even wetter at his orders when his eyes never left you.

“As you wish,” you heard Haarlep’s voice sing out, his face just barely in your peripheral view. One of his hands moved from your hip to your most sensitive region, and you gasped loudly at the caress of your clit as he continued his hard thrusts.

At the sensation of your clit being touched and the pleasurable pounding you were taking, your knees lifted of their own accord to hold at Haarlep's hips. You could feel the bruises forming already from the ridges on his hips digging into your skin, yet that string inside of you wound tightly once more. You knew it wouldn’t take long for it to snap.

Your loud moans were music to Raphael’s ears as he stroked harder and tighter, his cock now glistening with an abundance of precum. He grunted before asking in a voice even lower and reverberant than before, “Do you wish to come, little mouse?”

“Yes, master,” you managed through your moans.

“And she calls you ‘master’,” Haarlep cooed at your use of the word. “What a delectable little mouse, indeed.”

Haarlep’s generous circling of your aching clit and deep rutting had you seeing stars. You could feel yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, and your thighs began to shake vigorously from holding it back. Raphael could see this, watching you teeter on that edge with a lick of his lips.

He waited, of course.

Pleasure turned into torture as you wailed, your fingers going numb from how tightly you were gripping the sheets. Your muscles grew taught with the exertion of holding in your orgasm.

You didn’t want to beg, but you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, master!” you cried out, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

When your cries of pleasure became pitiful sobs, Raphael finally relented.

“Go on then, pet. Come for me.”

With a strained moan, your back arched and your vision blurred as white hot pleasure flooded through you, ebbing through you in waves as Haarlep rode you through it, pounding so hard you could feel it bruise your cervix.

Your thighs twitched as your legs instinctively tried to close from the overstimulation of still being ravaged by the incubus, but Haarlep moved his hands to your knees to keep your legs pried open for him as he continued.

“Enough.” Raphael stood up from his chair as Haarlep stopped his movements, stilling himself inside of you and turned his head towards Raphael. “Up.”

You looked to Haarlep, and Haarlep glanced your way quickly to express his annoyance in having to stop before pulling himself off of you. You let out a soft whine as he pulled his cock out of you, feeling suddenly empty.

“You as well,” Raphael said, gesturing at your limp body.

You took in a deep breath and sat up, muscles already sore as you slinked off of the bed. When you stood up, your knees almost buckled beneath you, but you kept yourself up on trembling legs. He noticed, smirking to himself at your weakened state.

With another snap of his fingers, his clothes were gone, and you couldn’t help but stare at his naked form. You had seen it on Haarlep, but Haarlep’s form was a little less sharp than Raphael’s, with his slightly rounder jaw and softer nose. Raphael’s true naked form was enthralling, the divots and ridges on his body seeming sharper, more dangerous.

He took his place on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a smug expression. He gestured to his cock, still erect and glistening with his precum.

You understood the silent command, climbing back onto the bed. You crawled on all fours towards him and took the opportunity to freely graze your hands up his muscular legs, touching as much skin as you could—as much skin as you were allowed to touch. Despite how rough the two fiends had been with you, your touch was adoring and gentle as your fingertips brushed over the ridges and protruding veins.

When Raphael's expression shifted from inquisitive to impatient, you took it as a cue to fulfill his desire and made your way to his lap to straddle his textured hips. You let your drenched folds glide over his shaft in a slight teasing manner, this being the only teasing you could sneak in before his hands seized the meat of your thighs to serve as a reminder of who was in charge.

You took the large member in your much smaller hand while your other hand landed on his broad chest for stability, and you slid the head of his cock down your slit to guide it towards your entrance. With a sharp breath, you pushed down onto him, still feeling sore from the previous pounding. When your hips landed against his with him fully sheathed, you took a moment to adjust to the sheer size of him yet again. Both of your hands on his chest now, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breathing, and he, in turn, gave your thighs an assertive squeeze to let you know he was done waiting.

Your pace was slow on weak thighs as you rocked yourself against him. But his cock nudging that soft spot deep in your core egged you on, giving you just enough energy to revitalize your need.

You let yourself fall against him, clinging to him and nestling your face in the warmth that was the crook of his neck as you chased that high once more. His hands moved to your waist, forcing you down harder against him, and you couldn't stop the whimpers tumbling past your lips, landing right in his ear.

You felt the bed dip in weight behind you, but you were too focused on the grind of your hips and the pleasure climbing in your core to pay any mind to it.

"What a naughty little pet," you heard Haarlep muse from behind you, but you didn't dare slow or stop your movements. Haarlep sat himself atop Rapahel's mid-thighs, planting himself right behind you, and you could feel his heat radiating onto your back.

"Some spittle, to prepare her," Raphael instructed through soft grunts, and Haarlep eagerly complied, deftly snaking a large hand around the column of your throat before suddenly prying you off of Raphael and pulling you back against him.

Then Haarlep took his turn devouring your lips. His kiss was much more gentle than Raphael's, and you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. Your hips ground down harder against Raphael as Haarlep beckoned your lips open with a swipe of his tongue. The second your lips parted for him, his tongue was barging into your mouth, stroking your tongue with tender licks.

When the saliva seeping down your throat made you reactively gulp, you felt your insides light up with an energy that could only be described as carnal lust in its most calamitous form. Electricity seeped into every fiber of your being, tingling all the way down to your fingers and toes. Every muscle in your body ached for sex, more and more sex until it consumed you whole.

Subconsciously, your pace atop Raphael quickened. Your moans, muffled by Haarlep's mouth on yours, heightened in pitch and intensity. Arousal pooled beneath you, leaking onto Raphael's skin and aiding your gliding atop his hips.

Raphael leaned forward, greedily taking a nipple into his mouth while his other hand groped at your other breast roughly. Your hands flew to his head, your fingers digging into his soft hair as you pulled him further against you. You practically mewled when his hot tongue ran over the bud, letting his sharpened teeth scratch your sensitive skin as he sucked.

Your core felt dangerously aflame with a mounting pleasure surging through every inch of your body. Haarlep released your lips, eyes burning into yours to watch his spittle work its magic on you. With his hand still on your throat, his other hand tickled the skin along your spine as it snuck down your back.

In your haze of primal desire, you almost didn't notice Haarlep's fingers swipe at the puddle of your own wetness beneath you, until you felt those fingers smear the slick over your unused hole. Still holding his stare, your eyes widened at the realization of what the next act of your "torrid affair" truly was.

Raphael intended to stuff you full of two cocks, both of which he would be feeling inside of you.

Your mouth dropped open, attempting to stutter out any protest you could think of in the moment, but your words—or lack thereof—were cut short by the hand around your throat quickly moving up. Your jaw was abruptly encapsulated by Haarlep's large hand, muffling any noise you could make.

"Hush now," his voice rumbled in your ear, sending more tingles down your spine. Your labored breathing through your nostrils sounded loud against his hand. "Don't you want to be a good little mouse for your master?"

At the word, Raphael released your breasts, paying his full attention to the interaction between you and Haarlep. You felt him pull away, and your frantic eyes locked with his in a silent plea. You had never had any lovers use that particular hole; you weren't ready for it to be intruded upon.

But the spittle in your veins begged for more.

The tip of Haarlep's cock pressed into the tight ring of muscle, and the feeling was... strange, to say the least. You never used this hole in any pursuits of passion, you never thought to. It was uncomfortable, but the member still being coated in your slick made it easier to take.

The stretch as he pushed in farther burned more than it did in your cunt, and low, pained moans slipped past your lips in response, still muffled by Haarlep's hand.

You stilled your movements, unable to continue grinding with this new sensation distracting you. Your inner walls throbbed around the two cocks, and you could feel the sweat covering your skin, spurred on by the heat of the two infernal bodies surrounding you. With your eyes still on Raphael's, your chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths.

"It seems our little thief needs some aid," Raphael said, his voice more gravelly than before. He removed his hands from your waist, allowing Haarlep's hands to take his place, and you sucked in a sharp breath the second your mouth was freed.

"Sing for us, little mouse," Haarlep whispered in your ear before he forced you down by the waist, plunging the two cocks deep into you.

You shrieked at the pain, and tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. The stretch, the burning, the stinging; it was too much. But you were not granted a moment of reprieve when Haarlep effortlessly lifted you and shoved you down repeatedly.

The spittle in your system felt like a godsend now, easing the pain and turning it into a plethora of pleasure as the ridged cocks ground together with the only barrier between them being your slick inner walls. You continued to wail, it being the only sound your used, feeble body could make.

Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open as your vision blurred from your tears.

But Raphael would not allow your eyes to close. He wiped the sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face before gripping your jaw with a grip that almost crumbled the bone.

"Eyes. On. Me."

The dam finally broke, and the tears leaked down your face inn warm streams as you blubbered, "I- I can't. T-too much."

He laughed coldly in your face, his broad chest bouncing with the deep chuckle. "Thieves must be punished, dear. Is this not a merciful punishment? Would you rather I skin you? Maim you, hm? Make you bleed?"

You sobbed, your body shaking. You couldn't even tell if it was cries of pleasure or cries of terror; you were too far gone as the devil and his incubus abused your frail, mortal body.

That familiar string winding tight in your lower belly once more was the hint that it was, in fact, cries of immense pleasure, the kind of body-wrecking pleasure that you could never experience with another mortal soul.

Raphael could feel you tightening around him, and the sight of his favorite little misadventurer, his dearest thief, falling apart so beautifully under his claws...

This image of you would make the most wonderful painting to adorn his grand halls.

Haarlep felt it too, and his response to it was to quicken his forceful pace of shoving you down on him and Raphael. His hold on you was so tight that his claws dug into your sides, and small beads of blood trickled down your sweaty skin, not that you even noticed in the moment.

The rapidity of being shoved on two cocks and the pressure of them digging into every soft spot inside of you had you racing towards a powerful orgasm. You could see in Raphael eye's that he was near his own end with his quick grunts and heaving chest. His hold on your jaw loosened and changed to a gentle holding of your chin, keeping your teary eyes on him throughout all of this, while his other hand sought out your clit once more. He wanted to feel you come apart.

And come apart, you did.

With one last wail, a tsunami of blindingly hot pleasure surged through you, sending every nerve into overdrive. Your walls squeezed the two cocks tightly, and every continual shove down on them resurged the bliss until your body was convulsing.

The squeeze of your cunt and sound of your cries pulled his orgasm out of Raphael, and his lips parted. In a chorus of low and sultry noises, you felt him and Haarlep come inside of you in tandem, the molten heat of infernal seed filling up both of your holes.

When they finally stilled, Haarlep released his grip on your waist, and you instantly keeled over, landing against Raphael's chest with a barely-audible whine. You were exhausted, out of breath, and slick with sweat and a faint amount of your own blood.

Raphael's breathing returned to a normal pace almost immediately, and you listened to the heavy beat of his steady heart to ground yourself back to reality. He let you lay on him for a moment and stroked your hair rather gently, unusual considering how cruel he tended to be.

Haarlep noticed this, eyeing his master with a suspicious gaze. Has the devil gone soft for a mere mortal, and a thieving one no less?

Raphael motioned to dismiss Haarlep with a wave of his hand, not even giving the incubus the dignity of a verbal dismissal.

Haarlep pulled out of you, his seed spilling out of your used hole. A whine hitched in your throat at the motion as you tried to control your breathing. He slipped off of the bed and gave Raphael one last mischievous glance before disappearing in a quick haze of sparkling flames.

Once you were alone with Raphael, his hand reached for your face, lifting your head up to meet your tired eyes. “You did very well, little mouse. You’ve proven time and time again to be far more resilient than I originally gave you credit for.”

Your arms trembled as you lifted yourself off of his chest. All of the doubt and fear you had tucked away when the pleasure rolled in came flooding back. “What’s going to happen to me?”

He smirked at your nervousness. He twirled a strand of hair around his finger while he murmured with his smooth, deep voice, "You will rest in the House of Hope tonight, little thief. And tomorrow, you will be back on the road with your merry band of misfits. I still need the Crown, and how very lucky for you that I still have your contract."

The contract. The very item you were caught stealing. You were still merely a pawn in his overarching game of chess, but he was right.

How lucky for you that your services were still needed.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 haarlep

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zinniajones · 1 year

Text

Text of thread at https://kolektiva.social/@zinnia/110418489814171631:

Yes - this is what is happening in Florida due to SB 254, which was signed into law on Tuesday 5/17/2023, taking immediate effect. This immediately cut off 80%+ of adult trans people in Florida from having their HRT refilled, because SB 254 uniquely prohibits only nurse practitioners from prescribing only gender-affirming medications.

This has already been in effect for 7 days now.

Trans adults in Florida have already been cut off from their HRT refills for a week now, including those of us who have been stable on these medications for years or decades.

This is VERY different from the general situation of trans youth care bans in 19 states, many still working their way through the courts.

This has *already* happened, to *all* of us: all trans adults in the third most populous state in the US.

The number of trans adults on HRT massively exceeds the sliver of the population that are under 18 and are prescribed puberty blockers or hormone therapy.

These laws, advanced under the pretext of 'protecting children', are now directly impacting a far larger group of people who are not children and are not subject to those pretextual concerns.

Other arguments about withholding public Medicaid funding for transition treatment also do not apply here: SB 254 does not even allow receiving this care through private insurance or paying cash out of pocket. The care isn't simply not covered - the care itself cannot be provided regardless.

What is happening in Florida requires special attention above the situation of trans youth care bans nationally. This is having a vastly larger impact quantifiably.

It will have worse impacts qualitatively as well: adults are responsible for taking care of and protecting trans kids and making sure they do not hurt themselves.

Whereas as a trans adult, we have no one standing guard at the brink but our own self and the void to which we are accountable.

These are the facts as they stand right now. These are the facts as they have stood for a WEEK and NO ONE nationally is putting any attention on this because there are 19 trans youth care bans all across the country going on, along with everything else targeting trans people and the LGBT community broadly.

This is a specific harm that is happening now and has been happening for 168 hours.

It is not a hypothetical issue to raise awareness of, as if it were at the stage of some proposal that needs to be fought back. This has already happened and is happening right now. Active harm is happening until this law is rolled back.

For all of Florida's history since the inception of the applicable regulatory and licensing bodies, nurse practitioners have been allowed to prescribe hormone therapy, testosterone blockers and other relevant gender-affirming medications.

That has been the case since I moved here in 2011. There was no reason why this wouldn't be the case. It's also the case in every other state.

This new law is a carveout of prescriptions when used for one purpose, gender-affirming care, from nurse practitioners specifically, in a way that has never been done before. It affects all ages.

It has immediately obstructed access to HRT prescription refills for more than 80% of TRANS ADULTS in Florida.

It has also prohibited first appointments for HRT via telehealth with in-state or out-of-state MDs or DOs - first appointments must be in person. This will require expensive and time-consuming travel that is beyond most trans people's means: driving to Georgia from Florida can take 8 hours.

This was an intentional targeting of almost all trans adults in Florida, and the means by which we have received our generic, FDA-approved medications for years. And it included closing every possible door that would let us find another way to keep taking the medications we have taken for...

Well, for me it was 3,891 days when the clock stopped

#tw forced detransition #detransition #Florida #SB 254 #trans care ban #adult trans care ban #transphobia #HRT #transition #transitioning #hormone therapy

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hardlyinteresting · 7 months

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Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes.

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches.

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself.

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser.

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out.

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate.

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing.

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you.

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”.

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse.

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?”

“I told you. She’s a colleague”.

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on.

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are.

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people.

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing.

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life.

“Please, Hotc--”.

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it.

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage?

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave.

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward.

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”.

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now.

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes.

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that.

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself.

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”.

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off.

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you.

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals.

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees-- healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same.

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist.

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss.

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be.

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear.

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words.

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say.

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron.

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet.

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic.

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay.

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you.

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with.

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him.

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader

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