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#others are quite literally some of the worst people to exist
stressedandindistress · 6 months
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cluescorner · 6 months
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Randomized Robins AU - Ages + Worst Trait Exercise:
Steph (25):
Says her worst trait is her murderous rages (she is exaggerating for dramatic/comedic effect, she’s killed 3 people tops and for very good reason)
Thinks her worst trait is her spitefulness (one of the few traits she definitely got from her father + one that prevents her from fixing her relationships and living her best possible life. She’ll refuse to interact with someone she dearly loves after an argument (happens significantly less after Tim’s death) or will say things she knows are hurtful just for the sake of having the last word. This trait will worsen in some ways as the list of people who have wronged her and those she loves grows, but will also ease up as she matures and realizes the harm it’s doing to her relationships with those she loves most.)
Her worst trait really is her spitefulness
Cass (26)
Says her worst trait is her self-righteousness (she believes that her goals are righteous and, as a result, she is righteous. Cass becomes very defensive whenever someone questions the mission and often does not second-guess herself. This is a trait she only develops later in life as she grows closer to Bruce/learns to understand herself more/starts to love herself more. But she knows she isn’t perfect and when somebody she trusts criticizes something she is doing she is willing to listen. She just usually isn’t the one to START the introspection.) 
Thinks her worst trait is her self-righteousness. 
Her worst trait actually is her obsessiveness (she gets it from Bruce and, while not as bad as him, she will easily become preoccupied with her night-life and the mission if someone isn’t there to pull her back. She will do this to the point of self-destruction and it hurts her relationships with the people she loves, especially Steph.)
Tim (24)
Says his worst trait is his spitefulness (he actively rejects the idea of mending his relationships with the older members of the family and this causes him to also lack good relationships with the younger ones)
Thinks his worst trait is his obsessiveness (similar to Cass, if he gets fixated on a task or idea he will neglect everything else in his life in order to dedicate more time to it. Unlike Cass, he will almost never be dragged away from it unless Pierrot snatches control of the body and forces them to take care of themself.)
His worst trait actually is how manipulative he is (the KING of guilt-tripping and using people’s emotions against them. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, he’s not above crocodile tears. And he will do it to whoever he needs (or wants) to with little care for how his actions impact others.)
Pierrot (Insists: “Age doesn’t apply to me! And even if it did, I'd probably be the oldest. Or the youngest! I’d never be a middle child, though.” Mental assessments by the Bats have put him around 21, with a margin of error of 3 years. Pierrot has called this “blatant character assassination by my eternal rival!”)
Says his worst trait is that he is an irredeemable psychopath without any regard for the wellbeing of others (this is a lie and everyone who's important to him understands this). 
Thinks his worst trait is his parasitic nature (he literally would not exist had Tim not suffered the way he did. Plus he is a living reminder of one of the worst things that happened to many of his loved ones. He is a parasite injected into a functional person's body and contributes to his continued suffering. This is also a largely incorrect judgement of himself, caused by his actual worst trait.)
His worst trait actually is his limited sense of self (he doesn’t really know who he is outside of ‘inheritor to the legacy of the Joker (a man he despises yet also views as a father)’ and ‘chip in Tim’s brain that became sentient’. He slowly develops an identity over the course of his life and relationships with other people, but he lacks the foundations of identity that most people have. Pierrot will often almost become a caricature of himself and what others perceive him to be because it's the only person he knows how to be. This causes wild swings in how he behaves and relates to others, sometimes to the detriment of himself and others.)
Dick (17) 
Says his worst trait is his clinginess (he is a very extraverted person who likes to be around others, which mixed with his fear of abandonment after his parents died means that if he goes a few days without seeing/talking to a friend he will get very anxious.)
Thinks his worst trait is his anger issues (he gets ticked off very easily and will explode on people. He’s kind at his core and is usually very nice, but he has a temper that can escalate significantly. Spoiler (and later Twist) help him channel this anger into something positive.)
His worst trait actually is his anger issues.
Barbara (18)
Says her worst trait is her disability (internalized ableism, she thinks of herself as less valuable than the other Bats because she cannot be out there in the capes like they can. She will grow out of this as she matures and as she learns how invaluable her support for the team is.)  
Thinks her worst trait is her disability 
Her worst trait actually is her overly-independent nature (In an attempt to overcompensate for everything she can no longer do, she has resolved to do literally everything that she possibly can without any help from others. This results in many instances where she either takes on too much and winds up not being able to fully realize any of her tasks or where she makes her life and the lives of others significantly harder by refusing help when offered/not asking for it when she needs it.)
Damian (16)
Says his worst trait is his perfectionism (he is overly critical of both himself and others, taking any flaw or problem and amplifying it to an absurd degree. This is due in part to his life with the LoA (where even a brief misstep could lead to death), in part to how others treated him initially as Spoiler (any flaw was fixated on and used as a reason to either mistrust him or portray him as unworthy of the mantle), and in part due to the fact that he is Bruce’s son (the only person with worse perfectionism problems than Damian). Gradually, Damian has improved in this regard but it’s still a massive barrier to both his own happiness and his relationships with others.)
Thinks his worst trait is his perfectionism 
His worst trait actually is his perfectionism
Duke (16)
Says his worst trait is his definitely-real secret evil side (says this as a ‘my dad is a villain so who knows??’ joke)
Thinks his worst trait is his impulsivity in his words (Sometimes he will crack a joke or say a remark without thinking it through, leading to a LOT of hurt feelings and drama. He’ll say something without thinking it through and wind up seeming insensitive. This isn’t done because of malice, rather because Duke is someone who’s quick to act and speak. But while the mantle of Insight and his awakening powers have helped him with his actions, they do not always help with his loose tongue. As such, Duke gains an unfair reputation in the media as an instigator and will accidentally cause family drama through what he says.)
His worst trait actually is his impulsivity in his words
Jason (14)
Says his worst trait is his bad manners (he grew up on the streets and has no idea how rich-people society works, which he’s pretty insecure about considering he’s now the youngest kid of Bruce freaking Wayne). 
Thinks his worst trait is his reactiveness (Jason never got the privilege of planning ahead for various events in his life, so he instead needed to rely on being swift and harsh in how he could react to situations. It’s saved his life on multiple occasions and helps significantly in his role as Spoiler, but it can also lead to extreme overreactions (accidentally causing kidnapping scare after Jason ran away following a fight with Dick) and a struggle to plan things out ahead of time. As he grows more secure in his place in the family and in life, this trait will lessen but never fully dissipate.)
His worst trait actually is his reactiveness
#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#tim drake#dick grayson#barbara gordon#damian wayne#duke thomas#jason todd#batfamily#randomizedrobinsau#I'm debating whether I should tag this with the Joker Junior tag and those related to it for Pierrot#because like...it's not quite that. but it's also very close to that and is the direct result of that.#but Pierrot would fucking HATE to be tagged as that and sees it as an insult to his identity...which he already has problems with#so I don't think I'm gonna#anyways lmao I am totally projecting my younger self onto Barbara. How could I not? She's literally the reason I view my disability#the way that I do and she actively improved my mental health just by existing and saying some of the shit she did when I was in the#stages of accepting my own disability. So yeah I am projecting a lot onto her because I love her and see myself in her.#I'm mostly basing these characterizations on my favorite versions of them (ie Red Robin 2009 Tim and Birds of Prey Barbara).#so I'm taking the traits I like/think fit in this AU and discarding what I think either is bad or doesn't fit or if I just don't like it.#Damian's 'murder gremlin who is a meanie on purpose because he is a meanie' is entirely unappealing to me and also does not fit this AU#I prefer him when he's portrayed as a sympathetic kid (who is still an asshole) and not a demon child. So that's what I'm using.#same with Talia's 'abusive mother who is totally on-board with all of her father's bullshit and will kill someone for no reason' version#I have read enough comics to know what I like/what is most important and what I don't like/what is#BLATANT CHARACTER ASSASSINATION GRANT MORRISON YOU FUCK YOU SET TALIA BACK SO FUCKING FAR#I also decided to outline their WORST traits because I already know what I like about these characters/their best traits.#most people do. But what was a greater challenge was finding what would make their lives and those of others worse.#what would I hate about this person if I knew them IRL? What would I first suggest they get therapy for? What hurts them and why?#I found these questions really interesting in the context of this AU where some people are forced into completely different roles#the says/thinks/is was inspired by trying to answer that question for myself. I say my worst trait is my impulsiveness but when#I asked others in my life they answered 'oh so you said your weird thing where you don't ask for help right?'
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muzanswaifu · 1 year
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Fated Pair
Alpha! Tomioka x Omega! Fem! Reader
18+
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Your entire life, you lived as a beta, not having to worry about such tedious things like glands, heats, and instincts. But that all changed when a certain slayer came to town, altering everything as you knew it. It seemed fate had finally brought you together.
Since fated pair won my omegaverse poll, here ya go 👀 Might make a second part in the future just to clarify some things in their relationship...
Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @astrasolitaris !!!
Warnings: Omegaverse, Smut, Yandere Tendencies, Dub-con, Rut, Heat, Kidnapping, Scenting, Mating Bites, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Face Riding, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Rough Sex, Creampie, Knotting, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Impregnation, Dirty Talk, Praise
5k Words
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“Go get more water… towels too!”
“Guard the entrance to the block as well - make sure no one comes through-”
“Close the door!”
You could still hear the commotion outside, your family scrambling with commands and precautions like busy bees in a hive. Although if you were in their place, you supposed you would be too.
This was all your fault. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. Why did it all have to change?
You were a beta. You were supposed to be a beta. In your family lineage for as long as anyone could remember, everyone either grew to be a beta or an alpha, and even the ladder was quite rare. Your siblings and yourself were always warned to keep your distance from omegas. They were needy, weak, and always brought trouble along with them. Even your father, who was an alpha, biologically programmed to desire an omega, despised them, citing them as nothing but lustful rodents who relied on others to care for them.
At the time, you neither held resentment nor admiration for the secondary gender. If anything, you were grateful. Even when your age of puberty came, you hadn’t needed to deal with the struggles of a heat or rut or anything of the matter. You were simply normal, experiencing the usual growing pains and figure development. You hadn’t worried when your cycle never came, plenty of people blossomed later in life. Life was easier, nobody shamed you, you fit in with the general population, too well. You never could bring yourself to date or fuss over anyone. It wasn’t that you didn’t have crushes, you did, but they never seemed worth any hassle. You couldn’t imagine a future with anyone, nor did you hold any attraction except superficial. They weren’t the one.
But that all seemed to change overnight, your world quite literally flipping over the next morning as a strange feeling overcame you. Your parents warned you all that morning to be careful as there were reports of a monster near the village, so you assumed the feeling of uneasiness was a result of your body’s natural apprehension. But you fell terribly ill within a few hours, hellish cramps overcoming your body and bile spilling out of you to no end. Mother chalked it up to some surge of influenza and the others joined her theory, and you kept your own thoughts to yourself. You’d still never admitted that you’d never gotten your period, and now seemed too late as you’d become an adult already. It was far too late to worry them.
Thankfully the illness had come and gone within a few days, leaving as quickly as it had come. But just when you’d given in to the assumption that it was just a sickness, it’d returned again, far stronger and more potent. You couldn’t even walk then, your body in so much pain that you couldn’t stop throwing up and trembling. You’d genuinely thought you’d been dying, but, yet again, it left you after only a few days. As did the company that had returned to the village. You family was becoming concerned, and you felt far too afraid to admit to them of your fears. Moreover, you didn’t want to speak them into existence.
The third bout of sickness was when a doctor was called in, the worst of your suspicions confirmed. You were an omega, later developed, but developed nonetheless. You worried Father wouldn’t speak to you ever again when he disappeared for several weeks, not a whisper of where he was going, until he’d returned late one night with the reason for his departure - the strongest heat suppressant available in the country. You took it without a second thought, uncaring of the symptoms as you prayed they would free you from this curse of misery. And it seemed to work for some time. You weren’t plagued with crippling pains and aches, you didn't have as many thoughts of depression and anxiety. You thought you were cured.
But it was only a temporary reprieve.
As only weeks later you were burdened yet again with an explosion of suffering, the worst one yet. You spent most hours weeping and crying, begging the gods to let you experience even a moment of peace. Your father seemed to change strategies as he instructed your siblings to go into town and fetch articles of clothing to bring back to you, to find the source of these forcefully induced dry heats. One by one you smelled them, scrunching your nose and cringing at all of them. They smelt disgusting, horrid enough to make you spit up all over again. It’d gotten to the point where you’d sob in Father’s arms and beg him not to make you smell another one, begging for his forgiveness for ruining everything. He just held you tight and pushed another piece of cloth to your nose, asking you if this was the one. You threw up again.
Finally, your youngest brother stumbled in one evening, the color drained from his face and his eyes wide. You wept when you saw him, another test clutched in his quivering fist, knuckles whitening. Slowly he handed it to you, a hand to your neck to force you to take it in. With tears in your eyes you did so, preparing to gag, but the feeling never came.
With a single breath your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, drool collecting on your tongue and threatening to drip down your lip. It smelt magnificent. A delicious combination of sweet rain and fresh moss. Purrs of pleasure came rippling from your throat and you nuzzled against the fabric, the tip of your tongue gently tracing the fibers. All the pain slowly melted away, your brain becoming fuzzy and clean like swabs of cotton. For the first time in forever, you felt truly safe.
Your mother gasped
“Where - who did you get this from?” she croaked.
Your brother gulped. “The - the guy who came ‘c-cause of the monsters…,” he mumbled, “The slayer…”
Everyone stopped and looked at him, their eyes dark and grave.
“H-he came up to me in the square… asking for my scarf - or actually… (y/n)’s scarf…”
Father glared at him. “You idio-”
“Let him finish!” Mother interrupted as she held him back. Your brother just looked down and fiddled with his hands.
“So I gave it to h-him, a-and he seemed to like it, so I took his handkerchief, b-b-but,” he paused to look up at them, “h-he said it didn’t matter… that he’d… pay for her.”
Your father took in breath and sighed, carefully walking over to him, towering over the small boy.
“Were you followed?”
“I-I don’t think s-so…”
“Good. Lock the doors.”
Everyone took shifts to stay up that night, guarding the doors and peeking out the windows for any sign of visitors. You could sense their troubles, but for the most part you kept to yourself, cuddled up against the handkerchief and resting. Despite the brief ease of pain, you still felt the discomfort of your heat, still missing something but not quite sure what yet. 
There were no signs of any trouble for several days, until the night you woke to hushed voices and sounds of scurrying. Listening in, you quickly gathered what was happening.
The man - no - the alpha was here. Father went outside to talk to him. Although you were pretty sure there was no talking involved… more likely there was yelling… maybe some threatening.
After a few painful minutes, he came back in, a deep scowl painting his face. He also carried with him a multicolored robe, half red, half tessellated. He threw it to you before walking to the main room where the rest of your family was. You quickly huddled over it and started cuddling. It smelled perfect.
“... What did he say?” Mother hesitantly questioned.
“Bastard is stubborn. Says he’s not leaving without her. Told him ‘tough luck’. Nobody is leaving until he does.”
Your siblings all groaned, resuming their posts of either guarding the door or taking their turn of sleep. Despite not being yourself, you still felt the guilt of it eat at you. As soon as they left, your mother leaned closer to him.
“Dear… are you sure this is what’s best? Look at her - she’s miserable… we all are.”
He just shook his head at her.
“He’s not taking her. Not my daughter.”
-
The following days were gruesome. For everyone. No one was allowed to leave other than the occasional grocery run. No one could go out to their individual jobs. Even hobbies were off the table as every hour of the day was spent protecting the house. Protecting you.
This was the longest heat you’d had yet. It was as if your body knew your alpha was nearby, waiting for him to come claim you before you were allowed to calm down. The dry spell was wearing off, the sharp pains being transformed into uncomfortable cramps that made you desperate to wrap your legs around something. Your every entrance ached for company, feeling empty and barren without the presence of your alpha’s taste and essence. But regardless of your buzzed mind, you were still you enough to be too embarrassed to complain about that discomfort.
But even that part of your dignity was wearing thin. Every day without your carnal needs being tended to was just multiplying them. They all tried to give you privacy to take care of yourself, but it was simply impossible to leave you alone for too long. You needed to have eyes on you at all times in case the worst happened. In case he found you. So you settled for wrapping yourself up in his clothing. How was it possible for a single man to smell so edible? You found yourself wondering on the quiet days what he looked like, where he lived, how many pups he wanted. The primal part of you was oh so desperate to please him, regardless of how much you knew about each other. The omega part of your mind assured you every hour of the day that this was fate. That you were meant for each other. That you needed each other. 
But some part of you was still skeptical. No one else had felt right, so why would he? 
Everything would be fine… within a few days, surely the standoff would break. The man had to leave sometime. Regardless of the heartbreak such a thought brought you, it was what was best for everyone. 
-
You were awoken one night to a sudden crash of noise outside your room, followed by voices bickering. Vaguely you could make out the voices of your parents, followed by one you didn’t recognize. One that sent warmth right to the core of you. Within moments there seemed to be an altercation, two thuds hitting the ground. The sound was short lived as silence followed soon after. Your heart raced with the footsteps that slowly crept to your door, your arms hugging your scented jacket to your chest. The steps were ceased with more conflict, another bout of harsh words spoken before several more thumps followed. Like they were nothing.
Frantically, you crawled into your closet, quietly shutting the door and shaking as you curled into yourself. You tried your best not to cry, not to make a sound, but you were scared, horrified. Every conscious cell in your brain was screaming at you to run while the other half were begging you to get pupped. Your breathing stopped as soon as the door slid open.
His footsteps treaded carefully across the wooden floor, taking their sweet time to take in the scenery of your room. To find you. A subtle trill of growls could be heard along with the creaking of the floorboards, adding to your horror. He seemed to stand still for a few moments, taking in long drawls of your scent before heading straight to your hiding place. You froze.
You braced yourself as the closet door was carefully, slowly pushed open, your eyes shut tight and pouring with tears. A sob escaped you as the moonlight poured in to shower you. You were done for, you were sure of it. 
A gentle hand whispered along your hairline, tucking the hair out of your eyes.
“It’s okay kit, I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”
The sound of his voice was like that of an angel, soft and pleasant to the ear. Shyly you looked up from your lap, curious to find the owner of such a song, and you were not at all disappointed. Velvety, fluffy dark hair, a large muscular build, deep azul eyes. You could get lost in those eyes. You so desperately wanted to.
You were confident then that you had died and standing right in front of you was an angel ready to take you to heaven. No other explanation would suffice. He was simply too beautiful to truly exist. A rush of slick pooled down your thighs and you whined. Your hands were reaching up toward him before you could stop them, his own sinewy arms coming down to wrap under your arms to hike you up. You whimpered as you were lifted to his chest, looking back sadly toward your abandoned coat. He promptly leaned over and snatched it up. “I know, omega, I see,” he mumbled into your ear, sending a thrill up your spine.
He draped your haori, his haori really, over your shoulders so it would cover your nude back before he headed back out the door. You didn’t know where he was taking you, nor did you care. All you cared about was getting more of his scent into your body as you smelled and licked at the gland in his neck that he had so gracefully exposed for you when he tore aside his uniform.
As he carried you out, you could see the unconscious bodies of your family lying on the ground, not one of them with a single scratch. He must’ve knocked them out somehow. All except your father, who still seemed to be attempting to get up. He rambled angrily at your alpha, words no one could understand as they slurred from his mouth. Your alpha stopped in the doorway to your home, turning to face your struggling father who glared from his place on the floor. You looked down at him sadly and tears welled in your eyes.
“I left my payment on the table. We’ll see you again… sometime," Alpha spoke, not a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Not even when he turned you around did he seem to be riddled with guilt, a mewl falling from your lips as shape canines pricked at the nape of your neck, sinking deeper and deeper until you were howling from the pain, your vision going stark white as you were claimed. You passed out not a moment after, your alpha licking his lips of your sweet blood.
When you awoke you were in a house you didn’t recognize, in a bed that wasn’t yours, but you had a hard time caring as everything smelt purely of him. His scent fermented in the air you breathed like a fine wine, getting you drunk off the mere smell. Perhaps it was because he sat only a few feet away at the foot of the bed, as if guarding you from the outside. It made you feel that much safer. As soon as he saw you rise from your slumber, his pupils grew, the cautionary slits becoming dilated orbs. You pouted when he backed off the mattress, his hand pointing toward you, as if commanding you to stay in place.
“Nest, omega.”
The command rang in your ears like an alarm, your mind quickly working overtime to complete the task. Your alpha must’ve prepared as there were several piles on the floor composed of blankets, pillows, and clothing, all perfect for your nest. You set about collecting the one that you deemed fit, weaving them together over the bed like a second layer. It was like your body instinctively knew what to do as you not once had to overthink how to craft your nest, your hands doing all the work while your mind wondered. When you were finally finished, you sat at the center of it like an obedient dog, looking to your owner for your next order.
Your heart soared when he softly smiled at you, briskly walking over and cupping your cheek, running his nose along your jawline. His skin touching yours felt like fireworks were going off inside of you. Heat rose to your face as you then realized he was completely naked as well.
“You’re such a good girl… good omega. It’s time for you to complete the bond,” he murmured as he joined you in your nest, setting himself in front of you and moving his fluffy, long hair to the side, exposing his nape. Your own mating bite throbbed like a reminder on your neck as you eagerly latched your little teeth to his skin, biting as hard as you could until blood filled your mouth. It tasted sweet. You licked your lips as you pulled away, blushing at the indent it left in his skin, showing your marking of him. The throbbing eventually faded away into nothingness, paving the way for a heady pleasure that reached from your head to your toes. You felt complete, like a part of you was missing this entire time and you just hadn’t realized it. Every sense of struggle and rebellion inside you vanished, and you collapsed back onto the bed.
“Alphaaa…” you moaned, writhing in your nest with a newly awakened pleasure, one that made the emptiness in your womb all the more noticeable. Pups. You needed pups.
“Get up, omega. You’re going to sit on my face,” he leisurely commanded, staring down at you with possession and licking his lips. Your body moved on its own, shifting to the side so alpha could lay in your place while you straddled his head. Embarrassment still managed to weasel its way inside of you. What if he didn’t like the color? The smell? The taste? For once, your brain and your omega were both anxious about the same thing.
He seemed to notice your apprehension as took a deep breath of scent, growling lowly and dragging you down to properly seat yourself in his mouth. You cried out as he dragged his tongue between your slick folds, settling the tip on your clit and bringing it into his mouth to suck. Your legs trembled on either side of his head, your hands falling to clutch at his locks to brace yourself. His own paw wrapped around your ass, guiding you to properly grind yourself against his tongue while he enjoyed you. Sounds of rapture tore from you, falling upon his eager ear like music from the gods. Slick poured down his throat like an elixir, coating his tongues and messily dripping down the sides of his mouth. He ate from you like you were a ripened fruit, abundant with juice and teeming with nectar ready to be plucked and devoured. 
Your grief of emptiness quickly fell to the back of your mind as you focused on the divine ecstasy of being eaten, your sex swollen and sensitive as alpha relentlessly took what he needed from you. He shamelessly groaned into your heat, openly expressing how pleased he was with what you had to offer. He cursed every so often, spreading your lips open with two fingers and pressing his nose close to smell your feminine scent. Those same two fingers were quick to sneak into you, spearing you open on his thick digits, all to prepare you for something much bigger. It didn’t take you long to come, juices leaking out of you generously as you clenched on his thrusting fingers and cried out. He still rocked you upon his face as you came down from your high, licking up every messy drop from you regardless of your sensitivity. You bit back your tears and let him do as he pleased, so very eager to please your alpha. You’d be in agony without him so the least you could do was feed him.
You turned back after a moment to distract yourself from the overstimulation, desperate for something to cling to. Your gaze instantly landed on the cure for all your agony.
His cock stood tall and proud between his strong thighs, the tip flushed with color and large veins popping all over it. It was so thick… so long… it was going to tear you apart so easily… you’d never wanted anything more in your life. You drooled as you looked back at it, a renewed vigor alighting in your cunt. Especially when your eyes lingered down to the base of it, the beginnings of a bulbous knot taking root there, preparing to plug you up so you can keep all his little babies warm. You salivated at the thought.
Finally, alpha had his fill, pressing several soft kisses to your pussy before unraveling you from his face and setting you aside. Your belly stirred as you watched his cock bob between his legs as he rose up, his muscles straining beautifully like strings on a harp as he moved. You wanted nothing more than to crawl in his lap and lavish him with attention, worship your alpha like he so deserved for taking care of you so well. But your body refused to move, clinging to his every word and awaiting his command. You watched hungrily as he stood and stretched his arms and neck, likely sore from lying about for so long. He laughed softly as he caught you staring, your eyes staring lovingly between his thighs as you panted like bitch in heat. After all, you were one.
“Down,” he told, his voice imposing and husky, “Spread your legs.”
You didn’t even have to think as your body did what it was told, lying on your back obediently in the center of your nest and opening your legs. He grinned meanly.
“Not that way. Present for me.”
You whined as you rolled to your front, planting your face in the sheets and raising your ass high in the air, presenting your little hole for breeding. 
He chuckled and climbed in the nest behind you, running a warm hand along your spine.
“That’s a good girl. So obedient for me… You want my kits don’t you?” he crooned. 
You cried out into the bedding, raising your hips higher and wagging your ass at him. He tutted at you and kept you still with hand, leering down at you with predatory eyes like a fox to a rabbit.
“Puh-please alpha… it hurts…,” you sobbed, sniffling weakly and trying to press your thighs together to ease the ache inside of you. He easily pried them open again, slipping his swollen cock between your legs and dragging it across your cunt and belly.
“I asked you a question, omega. Answer me.”
“Y-yes, alpha!,” you cried, biting your fist with frustration, “I-I want your kits… s-so bad…”
He chuckled again with approval and playfully rocked his member against you. “You do, don’t you… I’d bet this is your first time wanting anything like this, isn’t it?” You furrowed at his question, plagued by its accuracy. He seemed to take enjoyment with your confusion.
“I was in a similar situation myself,“ he muttered, taking his cock away from your legs and pressing the leaking tip between your folds, making you shiver. “I didn’t want anyone, didn’t need anyone, I thought it just wasn’t meant to be.”
He slowly pitched his hips forth into your tightness, stealing your breath away as he split you open. Despite the abundance of slick, the stretch hurt more than anything, tears dripping down your cheeks as you whimpered. He only stopped when he was balls deep, every inch of his cock swaddled by your plush insides. You swore you could feel him all the way to your brain.
“Didn’t - didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone I’d wanna mate with,” he grunted, nearly whining from how tight you were, “But then I was called to that small, little village, could smell you a mile away… took me weeks to find you…”
“Please d-don’t move yet alpha,” you begged feebly.
“I know kit, I know… ‘s your first knot, I’ll be gentle,” he promises, easing your worries as you went limp into the bedding.
He waited patiently for your pain to ease, running his hands along your sides and petting your thighs. Regardless of the hurt, slick gushed from you due to such nurturing.
“Asked your father to give you up… even offered him money, but he refused. So, I had to take you. Alpha knows what’s best, don’t I?”
“Y-yes, alpha,” you faintly murmured, your body heating up as you were molded around him like clay.
He softly smiled at you and rolled his hips, churning his cock into your guts. You shook with the sensation, so sure you would burst any moment with how full you were. Every second he moved, the wetter you became, slick sticking to his thatch of pubic hair and coating his heavy balls. The ache of penetration melted away with every second, pleasure filling the gaps it left.
His hand reached under you and pressed at your belly, rubbing the bulge he’d left in you.
“Gonna leave my pups right here, right where you need them… need you to keep them warm until they make it to your belly.”
You hardly even heard him as you drooled into the nest, moaning and mewling like a little whore. The pain was hardly there anymore, euphoria overwhelming you as you eagerly ground back into him, desperate for more of what your alpha could give you. Taking the hint, he began truly thrusting into you, pulling out several inches before shoving it all back into you, bullying your cervix into submission. Your cries of pleasure only increased in volume and frequency, filling the room along with the sloppy noises of your union. You wanted his cubs. You needed his cubs.
His knot, you realized. His knot was the answer to everything, the solution to all your problems. Without it you were just a hollow shell of an omega. You came from just the epiphany, squeezing tight around him and squirting slick into his lap.
“Kn-n-not,” you whined, “kn-not… knot… knot!” You were going to die if you didn’t get it, you could feel it!
He laughed cruelly behind you, “You want my knot, omega?” His hips moved faster, pounding you into the bed and ruining the nest you worked so hard to make. You didn’t care. There were more important things at stake.
“Yes!” you pleaded, sniffling pathetically and digging your nails into the many blankets surrounding you. He growled darkly and loomed over you, threading his hand around the back of your skull and shoving you into the mattress, limiting your air intake. He violently pistoned into you, using you as nothing but a hole to breed his cum into, precisely what you wanted. You squealed for him, happily gave him free use of your form to use for his benefit, anything was worth it if you got his babies. 
You could feel his knot grow as it pressed in and out of your hole, thickening furiously and stretching you beyond repair, ensuring that not a drop of his precious essence would exceed it. A dopey smile was plastered on your face as you let him use you, your hair messy and tousled as you were buried into the bed.
Finally his knot threatened full capacity, popping in and out of you painfully before locking inside, swelling to its full size and keeping you in place. You wailed with bliss, your climax a mere hair's breadth away as you awaited for a single push to make you tumble over the edge.
Your alpha panted viciously behind you, grunting and groaning as your cunt milked him unforgivably, The moment the first wave of cum filled you, you saw stars. Fireworks of scorching white lit up behind your eyes, blinding you and making you bawl. You’d never felt such bliss, such elation, it was bordering on the edge of painful as one high bled into another and another and another. Wave after wave of piping hot sperm was emptied inside you, filling out your belly and gushing into your womb. His large knot promised not a drop would go to waste as every ounce was kept in your pussy, filling you to brim so much so that you could nearly taste it.
You weakly tried to crawl away as it became too much for you, you couldn’t take it anymore. But even without his unrelenting hold on you, his knot wouldn’t allow you to go anywhere.
“No, omega,” he growled harshly, “Warm my kits that you begged for. You aren’t going to leave here without my litter growing inside you.”
He leaned over and pinched his teeth around your scruff, rendering you useless as you went limp underneath him. It was too much, you couldn’t take it all. But what choice did you have as he kept you in place, taking load after load of his potent seed into your womb, exactly what you had asked for. You pathetically wept against your arms as your belly was filled.
As was an omega’s fate, regardless of what was planned for. 
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sassydefendorflower · 10 months
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I want to talk about something. I want to talk about ableism in fandom. And sexism in fandom. Oh, and racism in fandom.
Mostly though, I wanna talk about how the discussion about these things often gets derailed because people don't understand what trends and typical behaviors actually are.
Whenever a Person of Color, a woman, someone disabled, someone queer (or an intersection of any of these groups) points out that certain fandom trends are bigoted in some shape or form, half the replies seem to be "but they are my comfort character! Maybe people just like them better because they are more interesting!" or even "people are allowed to have headcanons!" - the very daft even go for a "don't bring politics into fandom" which is a personal favorite because nothing exists in a vacuum and nothing is truly apolitical. But alas~
What most of these replies seemingly fail to understand is something very, very simple: it's not about you.
You, as an individual, are just one datapoint in a fandom. You are not the trend. You do not necessarily depict the typical behavior.
When someone points out that there is racism in fandom, that doesn't mean every fan is racist or perpetuating racist ideas*. By constantly mentioning your own lack of racism, quite often, you are actively derailing the conversation away from the problems at hand.
When someone names and describes a trend, they don't mean your headcanon specifically - they mean the accumulated number of headcanons perpetuating a harmful or outdated idea.
I am not saying this to forbid anyone from writing fics about their favorite characters or to keep anyone from having fun headcanons and sharing their theories and thoughts - quite the opposite actually. A critique of a general trend is not a critique of you as an individual - and you're going to have a much better, and more productive, time online if you can internalize that. If you stop growing defensive and instead allow yourself to actually digest the message of what was pointed out.
I am saying this to encourage some critical thinking.
Allow me to offer up some examples:
Case 1: A DC blogger made the daring statement that maybe Tim and Jason were such a popular fanfic focus because they are the only two undeniably white batboys. Immediately someone replied saying "no, it's all the fun traumatic situations we can put them in!". Which is an insane statement to make, considering the same can be said for literally ANY OTHER DC Batman and Batfam character.
The original post wasn't anything groundbreaking, they didn't accuse anyone, didn't name any names... but immediately there was a justification, immediately there was a reason why people might like these characters more. No one stopped to take a second and reflect on the current trends in fanfiction, no one considered that maybe this wasn't a declaration against people who like these characters but a thesis depicting the OVERALL trend of fandom once again focusing on undeniably white (and male) characters.
(don't get me started on the racebending of white characters in media that has a big Cast of Color and the implications of that)
Case 2: A meta posted on Ao3 about ableism in the Criminal Minds fandom caught my attention. A wonderful piece, very thoughtful, analyzing certain characterization choices within the fandom through the lens of an actually autistic person. The conclusion they reached: the writing of Spencer Reid as an autistic character, while often charming and comforting, tended to be incredibly infantilizing and at worst downright ableist. They came to that conclusion while CLEARLY stating that the individual fanfic wasn't the problem, but the general fandom trend in depicting this character.
Once again, looking at the replies seemed to be a mistake: while many comments furthered the discussion, there were quite a few which completely missed the point. Some were downright hostile. Because how dare this author imply that THEY are ableist when they write their favorite character using that specific characterization.
It didn't matter that the author allowed room for personal interpretation. It didn't matter that they noted something concerning about the entire fandom - people still thought they were attacking singular people.
Case 3: I wrote a fic about abortion in the FMA(b) fandom (actually I've written a weird amount of fics about abortion in a lot of fandoms, but alas) and I got hate comments for it. Because of that I addressed the bias in fandom against pro-choice depictions of pregnancies. I pointed out that the utter lack of abortion in many omegaverse stories or even mpreg or het romances, painted the picture of an unconscious bias that hurt people for whom abortion was the only option, the best possible ending. The response on the post itself was mostly positive, but I got anon hate.
(which I can unfortunately not show you since I deleted it in the months since)
And I'm not overly broken up about it, but it also underlines my point: by pointing at a general problem, a typical behavior, a larger trend... people feel personally attacked.
This inability to discuss sexism, ableism, racism, transphobia, etc in fandom without people turning defensive and hurt... well, it damages our ability to have these conversations at all.
Earlier I said YOU are not the problem - well, i think part of this discussion is acknowledging that: sometimes YOU are in fact part of the problem. And that's not the end of the world. But you can only recognize yourself as a cog in the machine, if you can examine your own actions, your own biases, your own preferences critically and without becoming defensive.
And, again, this is not to keep you from finding comfort in your favorite characters and headcanons. This is also not to say that I am free of biases and internalized bigotries - I am also very much a part of the system. A part of the problem.
This is so you can comfortably ask yourself "but why is there no abortion in this universe?" or "why are my favorite black characters always the top in my slash ships?" or "why do I write this disabled character as childish and in need of help?" - and sometimes the answer is "because I am disabled and I want comfort", and that's fine too.
There is no one shoe fits all in fiction. There is not a single trope that captures all members of a group. There is no single stereotype that isn't also someone's comfort. No group is a monolith, no experienced all-encompasing (or entirely unique).
There is never a simple answer.
But that doesn't mean you should stop questioning your own biases, your own ideals.
Especially, if you grow defensive if someone points out that a certain trend you engage in might be racist. Or sexist. Or queerphobic. Or fucking ableist.
*this does not mean negate the general anti-blackness perpetuated by most cultures as a result of colonialism and slavery
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alltimefail · 2 months
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Okay so I have more thoughts on Dead Boy Detectives but this is less about scene analysis and more about my own personal interpretation of Charles as I truly believe Charles' inability to fully "reciprocate" Edwin's feelings is less about accepting his sexuality/lack of awareness about his sexuality and more about feeling unworthy of being on the receiving end of Edwin's love (and about bad timing - them being in an afterlife or eternal suffering situation on the literal stairs of hell, but I digress lol). This would explain, pretty seamlessly, why he seems to seek out fleeting or "fun" romances and flirtations. It would also explain why, immediately following the confession, there are micro-changes, blink-and-you'll-miss-it differences in Charles' behaviors and expressions. It's clear that our boy is reflecting, and he meant it when he said he intended to "figure out what the rest means..." even if it takes him forever (and I doubt it will, but again... I digress). This is why calling his reassurances to Edwin on the staircase a "rejection" and putting Charles in a box as default-straight is a complete disservice to his character, to the writers, to the queer brilliance that rings beautifully in every facet of this show, and to Jayden Revri who is an exceptional actor with a palpable, deep love and reverence for the character he's portraying.
As a repressed PTSD bisexual™️ myself, I can't help but connect Charles' history with abuse alongside his poor perception of self, people-pleasing tendencies, and his quickness to stifle and repress his own feelings and desires to his fear of being a "bad person." It would not surprise me if Charles would fear the possibility that he is capable of taking something fragile, beautiful, raw, and vulnerable (Edwin's love) and destroy it in the way his father did.
Charles has always loved fully and without caution; I would even say he loves recklessly at times, throwing himself in front of danger, even to his own detriment. But has anyone fully loved him back in the way he loves? Charles has always loved Edwin, but did he ever allow himself to humor the idea that Edwin might just love him back?
It's evident that Charles had very little kindness in his life. Charles' friends were conditional at best and violent/abusive at their worst, his father was a monster, and his mother (who, in all fairness, was also a victim of abuse) was quiet and complicit in the abuse Charles received from his father. His entire afterlife is intrinsically connected to Edwin's - his entire existence, and Edwin's entire existence, are so closely entwined to one another that to "screw up" the delicate balance they've struck would be more than unfortunate - it would be earth-shattering, a loss like no other. Charles is impulsive, but he is not careless...quite the opposite, actually. I truly think whether or not he's attracted to men is not the issue; it wouldn't surprise me if, at the very least, Charles is aware he is attracted to people regardless of gender and just doesn't have the language to put a label to that sensation yet (he might have never been compelled to put a label on it, frankly). The issue is that Charles is unsure if he is deserving of someone not just loving him, but being in love with him... especially when it's coming from someone he thinks is the best person in the world, the most important person to him, the only person he would deny heavy and defy hell for.
Honestly Charles might even already know he has feelings toward Edwin specifically that are not strictly platonic, but taking that gamble even though he struggles with feelings such as being undeserving of Edwin; that he would be selfish to take a love he's undeserving of; that Edwin might come to realize, at some point, that he was mistaken in loving Charles and that being with Charles isn't actually enough/what he hoped it would be and he regrets his confession all together. Or, perhaps worst of all, what if Charles finds that the nagging fear he's buried deep down was correct all along... that he actually is like his father and capable of hurting Edwin and bastardizing the concept of love as a whole?
There are stakes when it comes to loving Edwin - if he were to screw up what they have, the consequences would be disastrous, it very well might destroy him. He cannot be careless, he cannot be impulsive, he cannot risk destroying what he and Edwin have. I'm not sure Charles has ever not loved Edwin, but he probably never humored that his Edwin: touch-reserved, buttoned-up, logical, stubborn, beautiful, kind Edwin who brought a warm light to Charles in his darkest moment, could feel that way, too... especially about him. What is he to do with that?
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ma1dita · 8 months
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feed the fire
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 1.2k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. The fight never ends, but food service does, and well, you’re pretty when you’re mad. Lucky for you, your dad doesn’t really need offerings. Lucky for Luke, you’re in a sharing mood.  Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: Chiron isn’t gonna bet his kids against each other he on the side of love wym -.- (unbeta'd and purely made by caffeine)
(posted 1/22/24)
“If that was your definition of fun, Castellan, you are most possibly the worst person alive,” you grumble, bumping past Luke in the dinner line. The weight of his plate is as heavy as his stare, eyes following you as you turn to look at him and he knows you’re pissed after his team won capture the flag. 
Again. 
After years at Camp Half-Blood and years of arguing with you, everything gets a bit repetitive. But he can’t help but bite back a grin at this routine you two have created—it’s never boring when you’re around. You get as close as you can to his large frame, nose turned up for another face-off and he shouldn’t find your anger…so attractive. He shouldn’t be so interested in someone who looks like they’re about to wring his neck. However, Luke eats up the attention from you like he’s starving and wanting seconds, so he eggs you on just to see how this turns out.
“But a damn good demigod right? You’re just a sore loser, Trouble. Gonna have to do better than that to impress me,” Luke jabs at you, holding his tray in one hand. His grin gets impossibly bigger once his half-siblings rumble with laughter behind him, and the frown on your face deepens.
Where you two are involved, there’s always a spectacle. Rumors of campers placing bets and keeping score to the point of updating Mr. D with the count of who comes up on top each time you two argue. He’s past the point of assigning you two extra chores and taking away leisure time since you’re much older now (and essentially run the camp for him), so the god has resigned himself to placing bets with the kids (without Chiron knowing). But every week after capture the flag, Luke unknowingly bumps up several points just by existing. It’s damaging Mr. D’s stakes so much that he might have to bet against you, his own child, next time.
Plus, there’s just something about Luke that always riles you up.
“Who said I was impressing you?” You scoff, blocking him from walking to his table and he looks down at you (both figuratively and literally) with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know, with the way you won’t let it go, some people might think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart. Can’t blame you, though.” Luke’s words slip through his lips like water, and this time he’s unable to place what the expression on your face means as you stare back at him blankly with your fists clenched.
The only thing he’s able to perceive as a warning is the twitch of your eye before you’re on him, climbing him like a tree as you slam into him, knocking him to the ground and screaming, “YOU’RE SO FULL OF IT, CASTELLAN!”
Luke braces for impact as your hands are flying at him though there’s no intent to cause injury—he’s felt your right hook before and it took the air out of his lungs. This, was just you being petty, hands slapping him across the head and chest before you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and then…it was over before it even started.
“KID! What do you think you’re doing?” Mr. D’s voice rings across the dining pavilion and your eyes meet Luke’s as you both remember where you are.
On his lap, with everyone watching. 
Air escapes him again as he feels the weight of your hips against his hands and he doesn’t quite remember when he moved them there, or when in all of these arguments he’s stopped fighting back. 
But was it ever really a fight, Luke wonders looking up at you, not even hearing anything coming out of Mr. D’s mouth right now. Your hair is framing your face and the harsh overhead lighting in the dining pavilion surrounds you like a halo. You look like you’ve been blessed by Aphrodite herself, ethereal and strong… and a new funny feeling in his chest makes him suddenly unsure of everything you two have ever done together. This isn’t part of the routine.
Shit. 
He’s in trouble.
The fist in his shirt loosens and he falls hard, head bumping against the hardwood floor. Luke can see his tray facedown on the ground, the grapes and his dinner roll bouncing away underneath the tables.
“He did it,” you blurt out like a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar. You can feel Luke’s chest rumble with laughter under your fingertips and you push up off of him, extending a hand to help him up. Your dad is gesturing at you to clean the mess, but by the time you finish your angry gestures and eye rolls to turn towards the utility closet, Luke’s already back and sweeping up the fallen food without any complaints. 
“You know, for the strongest swordsman in 300 years, I took you down pretty easy, huh, Luke?” You say cheesily, bumping his shoulder as he chuckles.
“You just caught me off guard—throwing yourself at me like a deranged satyr.”
“Oh because you’re a dainty nymph in distress,” you bite back, walking away to get dinner.
By the time he’s done cleaning up the mess, food service is over. He scratches the back of his neck and goes to sit next to Chris, who’s wolfed down most of his meal already, but to his surprise, you’re sitting in his usual seat with a plate piled high enough for two and some extra prayers.
“You here to rub it in? Gonna have to eat air for dinner because of you.” He falls onto the bench, leaning on his hand as he gazes at you with a slow smile, and then watches you brandish two forks in the air.
“I’ll gouge your eye with a fork if you don’t start eating.”
Your knees are touching under the table and his hand slightly shakes as he pulls the utensil from your fingers. 
“Sometimes I think I like it better when you’re mean to me,” he jokes but takes a hefty bite of pasta anyway.
“You love it.”
He can’t help but agree.
Clarisse walks over to Mr. D who’s watching you two from across the dining pavilion with an emotion akin to confusion and possibly disgust. You’re both laughing at something indiscernible to everyone else around you, together, not at each other…and it’s unsettling. The daughter of Ares stands in front of the Olympian with her palm extended.
“Pay up. Luke clearly won again.”
Mr. D’s eye twitches as he holds onto his drachmas. He was supposed to be entertained by this, not be the entertainment.
“Did he though? They both look like they’ve tamed down. This is starting to get boring.”
A hand comes out of nowhere, snatching the drachmas out of the god’s hand, and Clarisse’s eyes widen at Chiron, who’s been behind them all along.
“I’ll take that. Don’t think either of them are gonna win this in the end.”
The three of them watch Luke say something to you with a mischievous grin and you gape at him as you shove a bread roll into his mouth angrily.
Mr. D tuts and it catches your attention, your middle finger directed at him as you push the rest of your plate towards Luke.
“What, no offerings for your dear father?” He calls out disgruntled by your audacity. 
“You clearly eat enough, D!”
Luke elbows you as he laughs behind his bread roll, and Chiron smiles, knowing what’s forming between you two, even if you both don’t see it quite yet.
“There’s something between us; a sort of pull. Something you always do to me, and I to you.” F. Scott Fitzgerald
ask to be added to the general/luke taglist! 🥹
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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bisexualiteaa · 1 month
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Sinful Indulgence
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Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem Reader (SMUT!! MDNI)
CW: established friendship, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking, swearing, reader has a succubus mutation, mutual pining, slight angst, p0rn w/ a little plot, wall fugging, unprotected seggs, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), use of pet names, praise, touch starved, cream pie, possible spelling/grammar errors.
AN: SHE HAS RETURNED BABY GIRL!! With another character fixation. 👀 Saw the Deadpool and Wolverine movie and I just could not resist writing for this beautiful, beautiful man. I was writing this at almost 3am so please forgive me if it’s sporadic and has errors, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten a whole work done. 😩 Feel free to send asks about Deadpool or Wolverine, I am happy to write for both of them! Hope y’all enjoy! 💛💙
When you showed up at Wade’s apartment after work, you thought of practically every other scenario in existence than the one you were currently in. Of course, you wouldn’t consider being pinned up against the wall, blouse unbuttoned- or rather ripped open, pencil skirt scrunched all the way up above your ass with his tall, dark and brooding roommate’s tongue down your throat a worst case scenario by any means. Just certainly not the one you were expecting to be in when you’d left work.
Wade had invited you over to celebrate your most recent job promotion, seeing as you were best friends with the merc, and his neighbor from just across the hall, he wanted to share in the celebration with you. He knew that unlike him, you lived alone and had for quite some time. Not really by choice, but rather that most people were scared by you or intimidated when they found out about your work and your mutant abilities. Aside from Wade and his friends, you’d become somewhat accustomed to keeping mostly to yourself. He wanted you to have people to share in the good news with, even if it was a small group of people, they were at least there to help show you that you didn’t have to go through things alone anymore. You had been there for him through some of his hardest times, helping him any way you could and he wanted to return the favor the best he possibly could. So needless to say, when you opened the door to his apartment (thanks to you having a spare key incase he lost his or Mary Puppins needed a dog sitter) you were shocked to find Wade nowhere to be seen. Or heard, which is incredibly rare. When you walked in, you were instead greeted to Logan who was sprawled out on the couch with his usual beer in hand. He laid there with one foot propped on the opposite arm rest, as the other sat planted on the floor in a manspread of sorts, his free arm raised up and tucked beneath his head. You blushed as you tried your hardest to not let your eyes wander past the vein on his lower stomach. It just barely peaked from beneath his shirt that was riding up and led under the waistband of his jeans. You couldn’t help but wonder where it led to, or how it would feel beneath your tongue as you’d trace it with your wet muscle. How ferocious he would sound as you raked your nails across his skin as he was buried deep within you. You wondered how it would look, how it would feel inside of you. Is it as imposing as the rest of him? You tried your best to clear your head, to rid yourself of the lascivious thoughts but it proved to be rather difficult when in his presence. Your mutation had been getting the better of you the past couple of weeks, making it hard to quell the demon residing in you. Literally and metaphorically speaking. Thankfully, he was too busy mindlessly watching something on the television to catch your stares as you stood there almost in awe. He finally looked to you as you closed the door, allowing you to send a kind smile his way and a gentle “hey!” in greet as you stepped inside, but his eyes hadn’t missed that wild look in your eyes or the flush to your cheeks. It seemed to happen often when you were around him, he noticed. It was a nice change to get a flustered smile sent his way rather than the sneers, or looks of disappointment and disgust from the people in his timeline. Nice to hear a racing heart rate for other reasons than just fear of what he was capable of. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn’t quite explain, something about you just felt comfortable. But you’d been distant lately. Anytime you would hang around Wade, the minute Logan came in the room, it was as if suddenly your time was cut short. Anytime he would see you in passing, he would only receive a quick hello from you, then watch as you’d bolt off. You guys didn’t even sit and chat for as long as you normally would when he would manage to get you to himself, seeming almost on edge around him. You’d never told him that you had a succubi mutation, or that you’d gone so long without sex that it made it nearly impossible for you to be around him without trying to jump him. So out of respect, you isolated yourself away and kept your distance from him. You’d never had this issue before, this was all new to you. Then again, you’d never been in love before like you were with Logan.
His eyes lingered on you a little longer than he had originally intended, and he prayed you wouldn’t notice. He already heard enough teasing from Wade about the way he looked at you with so-called “fuck me eyes” and the heavy tension that laid between you both. So if you were to catch him and his fleeting glances, he knew he would never hear the end of it. As much as he hated the idea of Wade making fun of him, he didn’t hate the idea of him and all his friends knowing that you were his girl. Or would hopefully be his girl, if he’d ever man up and finally shoot his shot with you. You come around often enough for him to have gotten to know you, between the late night game nights, Wade’s weekly movie nights and him sometimes visiting your place for a quiet space away from his loud roommate, he’d come to know you a lot more personally since he’d moved in. He’d never seen you so done up before though, and that’s what really caught his attention. You were donned in a ruffled blouse that outlined your every dip and curve, from your chest to your waist, leading down to a tight pencil skirt that hugged your hips just perfectly. He could only imagine the wonderful things it did to your ass, hoping you would pass him by so he could steal a glance and see for himself. You had on cute little kitten heels that clicked with each step and left you a little taller than usual. Not taller than him however, he could still tower over you with ease. You looked gorgeous in anything you wore in his eyes. You could be in nothing more than a baggy shirt and sweatpants and he’d still think you’d make the goddess of beauty absolutely green with envy. But in this? Every god and goddess out there could eat their fucking heart out. Your hair was done up in a tight bun, little fly aways pulled down to frame your face and a blazer draped over your arm. Not to mention you smelled like a walking aphrodisiac, he could hardly tear his eyes from you. Not that he wanted to, he was enjoying this view of you all to himself, and he was hoping you’d stick around for more than just a few minutes once you’d find out it was just him here.
“Take a picture bub, it’ll last you longer” you quipped in a playful tone with a grin and wink as you set your things down on the dining room table. Fuck, you caught him. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you seemed to enjoy the stares so maybe if he played his cards right, he could see where this goes. He gave a small chuckle at your comment, using his own term against him as he turned back to the TV. “Never seen you so done up before” he stated, his way of asking what had you all dolled up and why you were here at Wade’s place. “Like what you see?” You asked with a smirk, your voice dipping into a lower, more seductive octave almost on its own, but spoken with the cocky tone you were originally going for, and for once he understood how he sounded to everyone else when he talked like that. No wonder people thought he was arrogant, but he had to admit, the confident flirtation looked and sounded good coming from you. He gave a scoff at your words, making you chuckle at his response. Wasn’t a yes but hey, it wasn’t a no either, maybe that was a win. “Had an interview for a promotion at my job today, and I killed it. Called up Wade to let him know the good news and he told me to come over after work” you replied, answering his question that went unspoken. “‘s just you here? Figured he’d have been home by now” you added. “Yeah, just me. Need me to jet?” He asked, making you confused at first as to why he asked it. “Why would I want you to leave? I enjoy your company” you replied truthfully, your tone so sweet it could almost rot his teeth. He honestly wasn’t expecting it. Usually most people didn’t like his company, considered him too grouchy or a buzzkill with how his attitude gets, and with the way you’d been dodging him lately he couldn’t help but wonder if it was something he’d done. “Oh. Well, you said Wade invited you over to celebrate, so I thought…” he started, not wanting to spell it out but you understood enough of what he was trying to say so he didn’t have to. Your eyes went wide before you laughed at what he had been insinuating. He knit his eyebrows in confusion and slight annoyance, but he couldn’t be mad, he loved your laugh. Loved it even more when he was the one who could pull the joyous sound from you. “Oh holy shit, now that’s fucking funny” you said, wiping tears from your eyes from laughing so hard before catching your breath. “No. Absolutely not. He is NOT my type and it is NOT that type of celebration” you answered as you took your heels off, leaving them by the door before strutting into the kitchen to Wade’s fridge, looking for a drink. It was a relief to hear those words leave you, and to see you kick off your shoes meant you planned on staying, even if he was the only one home.
As you strolled past Logan and into the kitchen, bending down to get into the fridge, he was privy to just how nice that skirt made your ass look, answering his suspicions from when you first walked in. “Is he anyone’s? Fucker never keeps his mouth shut long enough to be anything other than a headache” Logan chimed in, making you chuckle. “He’s Vanessa’s type I guess. Which hey, good for him but I pray for her sanity” you replied as you still dug around for something that wasn’t either Logan’s beers, which you knew better than to tamper with, or Mexican food that was likely long past safe to eat. “Not sure there’s any there ‘f she’s puttin’ up with his bullshit” he replied, watching as you finally gave up on the contents of the refrigerator with a groan in frustration and grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet above it instead. “Aha! There it is” You said as you closed the fridge door with your hip before pulling out a wine opener from the nearby drawer, getting the cork as far out as you could with the opener before pulling it the rest of the way out with your teeth. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t an attractive sight. “Fair” you finally replied as the cork sat between your teeth before spitting it out to the side. After contemplating whether to get yourself a glass or not, you decided against it and instead drank straight from the long-necked bottle, leaving Logan to watch as your throat bobbed with your desperate gulps of the saccharine red liquid. He thought drinking isopropyl alcohol was a cry for help, guess he’d met his match. You licked the extra that collected along your plush lips before giving a pleased sigh. And it went straight to his dick. “Fuck, been needing this all day” you said contentedly, before coming over to the couch, silently asking his permission to join him before watching him scoot over. He huffed in protest as if it were a hassle, but really he was happy you even bothered to make sure he was okay with you joining him before just bursting his personal bubble. “At least he’s got that goin’ for him. I’ve been known to scare people away. Kinda come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably be a lonely drunk til the end of my days, so I guess he’s got that over me” you said before taking another hearty swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the electric feeling of being so close to Logan but it was a battle you were steadily losing. He gave a grunt in reply, understanding completely how you felt. “You and me both, bub” he said making you chuckle softly but with a somber undertone to it. If only he knew how much you cared about him.
“You know, this is the first time in years I’ve had anyone to celebrate anything with” you piped up after taking another drink, staring off as you broke the peaceful silence that fell over you two. He looked to you as you spoke, his expression as impossible to read as ever but a hint of sympathy rested in those intense eyes of his. “I’m so tired of scaring people away because of how I am…tired of going about this bullshit life alone” you admitted, and you knew it sounded pathetic as soon as it left you but it was true. Yet he understood. He understood better than anyone what it was like to feel alone, to feel like the world had it out for you. “Well, y’not alone in this anymore bub” he said, making you turn to him and smile appreciatively at his words of comfort, you needed it more than you had originally thought. “Thanks Lo” you replied kindly, and he swore his heart skipped a beat at the nickname. You extended your bottle out towards him, a cheers in celebration to not only your accomplishments, but to the moment shared between you two. This was the most intimate and sweet moment you two had ever shared since meeting the man from another timeline. When you and Logan spoke, it always felt natural. Nothing was forced, there was no need to lie or put on a front, you felt comfortable. His gruff and angry exterior would scare off most, but not you. He was thankful for that, thankful that in this timeline, he was useful to someone. Cared for by people, but most importantly by you.
As he reached out to tap his beer against your wine bottle, he noticed something different about your nails. They were longer than they were a few minutes ago. Now black in color and with a rather sharp, claw like shape to them. “Have your nails done?” He asked, making you hum in confusion before looking at your hands. “Shit..” you whispered to yourself. It was then that it finally clicked in his head why you claimed people were scared of you. “You’re a mutant” he said, once again not really asking, rather stating, but his tone asked you to elaborate. You sighed as you tilted your head back against the back of the couch, your eyes clenched shut in embarrassment. “I am” you answered begrudgingly, knowing it was a painful journey from here. “Not exactly proud of it. In fact most times it feels like the shittiest thing ever dealt to me” you added, hissing in pain as horns sprouted from the top of your head. You’d gone too long without sating your needs, and in return you could no longer maintain your human visage. You felt your thin, spindly tail slither from beneath your skirt, Logan watching in amazement as you seemed to transform before him. When your eyes finally opened and your jaw unclenched, he was greeted to enchanting golden irises and a set of fangs in place of your normal canines. “This…I’m afraid is the real me” you said self consciously, searching for fear in his eyes, looking for any hint of disgust like others had shown you in the past. Yet you didn’t find it. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Was all he asked, wanting to know why you would hide this from him when you told each other next to everything. “Because I didn’t want to scare you away” you answered simply. “I’ve lost so many people through the years that meant so much to me. I’ve scared some when I would tell them I’m a mutant, I’ve disgusted others when they would see me like this. So I got used to hiding it so that I wouldn’t lose anyone else” you continued. “I hid it because I just couldn’t bear it if I lost you too” you finished. “Is that why you’ve been dodgin’ me?” He asked, making you hang your head in shame as you nodded in reply. His hand came to yours, grasping it tightly to comfort you the best he could. “It’d take a lot more than that to scare me away, doll. I’m not goin’ anywhere” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him. “You don’t think it’s hideous?” You asked, gesturing to your horns and tail making him chuckle. “I think anyone who does think that is fuckin’ blind” he replied, making you smile at the compliment. “Wait ‘til you see the wings, then you might say otherwise” you added, but with a more playful tone, one that showed you were doing a little better already than you were before. “Try me. Been around a while, seen a lot of shit” he said, making you hum in reply. “I forget you’re old as dirt” you answered mischievously, making him turn to you with an offended look. “Fuck you” he grumbled before resuming drinking his beer, making you laugh and he couldn’t help but soften up at the sound. “Just teasin’” you replied before a moment of comfortable silence fell upon you both once more, his large hand still clasping yours. “Thank you…for not freaking out” you said, feeling him sling an arm around you and pull you into his side, allowing you the chance to rest your head on his shoulder. He didn’t need to verbally reply, the action had spoken enough for you to understand.
“Y’said earlier that Wade wasn’t your type” Logan spoke up in the silence, deciding that if he was to shoot his shot, that now was his best chance. No one else was around, so you could enjoy in the privacy. His statement made you tilt your head to look up at him while still resting on his shoulder. “Still true, way too high maintenance for me” you added, making him quirk a small grin in response as you looked back to the television while you spoke. A beat of tense silence fell between you as he contemplated his next move and what he was going to say. “What is your type then?” He asked bravely but almost trying to sound nonchalant about it as he looked to you, making you shoot him a fang-toothed grin as you looked at him. “Well, if you really want to know. I like the tall, dark and brooding type with scruff, pointed tufts of hair, and claws that come from his knuckles. Extra points if his name is Logan. Know anyone like that?” you answered flirtatiously but honestly, making him chuckle in response. “Think I do actually. Heard he’s an asshole though, you sure that’s the one you want?” he quipped cheekily, making you laugh in response. “Lucky for him, that’s my type. I think he is charming, but don’t tell him I told you that” you teased with a knowing grin as you both finished off your respective drinks before migrating into the kitchen for another round. “How ‘bout you? ‘s only fair you spill your secrets since I’ve spilt mine” You asked, making him chuckle as he trailed not very far behind you. “Figured that one was obvious, sweetheart” he said, the nickname paired with the way he was looking at you with that lopsided grin made you absolutely melt. “Maybe, but it’s more fun when you say it” you replied, wanting to hear it from him, wanting him to acknowledge the tension and confirm what you were hoping was mutual attraction. “I’m all ears” you added, cupping your pointed ears for added effect before turning to grab another bottle of wine from the cabinet as he grabbed another beer. “Fuckin’ brat” he grunted, making you chuckle and hum with intrigue at the dominance in his tone. “Yeah? Gonna do something about it bub?” You challenged as you moved to open your fresh bottle, the alcohol not enough to hinder your decision making, but enough to grant you courage to bite back where you normally wouldn’t. Little did you know, that was the final straw on his restraint.
Next thing you knew, you were being propped up on the kitchen counter, Logan standing between your spread legs as he kissed you fervently. Your arms looped around his neck instantly as he pushed everything off of the surface to allot you the space, not caring for what came crashing off the edge as a result. His large hands roamed your frame feverishly as your claws dug into the material of his shirt, keeping him close against you to show him just how much you wanted this. Scratch that, how much you needed this. The kiss left your head spinning, teeth and tongue clashing together and allowing you both to get a taste of what the other was drinking. His tongue had the bitter tang of beer still resting on it, but with it was the faintest hint of tobacco and smoke. Likely from one of his cigars he enjoyed smoking. It was intoxicating the way he made you feel, and he could say the same thing about you. The taste of sweet wine was never something he took pleasure in, but tasting it from your lips? It was a different experience entirely. “Answer your question, bub?” He asked in a cocky tone, his pupils blown wide with the most feral look in them. “Yeah” you answered as you tried your best to catch your breath, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and growing smile that he swore was the sexiest look anyone has ever given him. “Well what are you doing just standing there? I don’t remember telling you to stop” You teased, pulling him back to you, doing your best to minimize the distance as you pouted for another kiss. He chuckled at your response before diving back down to capture your lips against his, he certainly didn’t need to be told twice.
You both moaned into it as his hands started to untuck then work at unbuttoning your blouse. His need for you proved to outweigh his patience however, because rather than continuing to fumble with the small buttons of your shirt, he decided to rip the pesky fabric open instead. You gasped with excitement as you heard the buttons fly and scatter across the kitchen floor, the idea of him needing you so bad that he would literally tear your clothes off of you sent an excited flutter to your stomach. You couldn’t find it within you to mourn the shirt, not when you needed him more than anything right now. Your skirt rode up your thighs, leaving your lower half just barely covered but he didn’t need to see the wet patch that formed in your panties to know what effect he had on you. He could smell just what he was doing to you, the scent of your arousal coming off of you like the most intoxicating perfume and it made him down right feral for you. His rough hand trailed up the soft, plush skin of your thigh, pushing your skirt up even more as he pulled you up against him. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, leaving your bodies flush against each other, desperately pawing at one another like two animals in heat. It was clear the aphrodisiac in your saliva had already begun to take effect. His hips brushed against yours, feeling him throb against your soaked cunt even through his jeans and your panties. You moaned at the delicious electricity that soared through you to your clit with each roll of his hips against you. You swore you were in heaven with the feel of him like this alone, thank god no one else was home, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet if it already felt this good. “Look so fuckin’ good like this, all wrecked from me” he said into your heated kiss, making you giggle with confidence at his compliment. “Yeah? Think I’d look even better with you inside of me” you replied, making him groan as his lips peppered kisses against your neck, soon morphing into small bites just to hear you moan and cling to him desperately for more. “Y’think so?” He asked, making you shake your head yes in response. “Need it. Need you, Lo” was all you could say, your mind already so foggy that you could barely think, much less form proper sentences. “Need it that bad, huh? How d’ you want me to fuck this pretty pussy baby? Can tell she’s been needing some love” He asked, rolling his hips against you once more for extra measure, only teasing you further. You had no idea just how much of a tease this man could be, he really knew all the ways to get you riled up, it was almost unfair. Almost, if it didn’t feel so fucking good. “Bend me over the counter, slam me up against the wall, hell I’d ride you on the couch if you wanted. Don’t give a fuck how it happens, just want you so bad Logan, please…” you admitted, making another low groan leave him in response.
“All those ideas sound good but, sounds a little rushed to me. How ‘bout I take care of you properly?” He asked, his fingers pulling at the sides of your panties to bring them down and off of you as he continued to nip and kiss at your neck. God it had been so long since anyone made you feel like this, you couldn’t help but cover your face with embarrassment. “You don’t have to do that…most people don’t like-“ “I’m not most people, peach” he interrupted, his hands coming to gently pull yours away from your pretty face. “Let me take care of you, show her some love, hmm?” he asked, his lips planting searing kisses at your neck, leaving your eyes to flutter shut as you whined desperately for him. “Please…” you got out the best you could between your soft moans as his lips trailed down your chest, tummy, then your inner thighs as he knelt before you. His hands rested on the outsides of your thighs, keeping them open for him to slot between as he pulled you to the edge of the counter top. He wasted no time diving in for you, his tongue gliding between your folds, teasing your clit and your entrance with the wet muscle. You propped yourself up with your hands, your whole body seeming to arch as you tilt your head back to moan. “Fuck…” was all you could utter between your blissful sounds of pleasure. One of your hands reached down to card through his hair, making him moan into you at the feel of your sharp nails against his scalp. “Taste as sweet as you sound, darlin’. Could sit here and do this for ages” he said, making you bite your lip as your giggle morphed into a moan at the way his tongue circled your clit with expert precision. “Fuck, just might take you up on that in the future- oh!” You panted out as his tongue swirled around your clit and his fingers prodded at your entrance, slowly working you open. He chuckled as your legs opened wider for him, allowing his fingers to reach as deep inside as possible, stretching you open and prepping you for what was to come. “Good girl, takin’ me so well” he praised, making your stomach flutter as you tightened around his fingers. The sounds coming from him were down right debaucherous. From the groans and almost growls at your taste, to the sound of him eating you like you were his last meal he would ever get to enjoy, you both sounded like you were co-stars in a raunchy porno. You weren’t sure if the knot in your stomach was beginning to grow tighter because of how long it had been since you’d had sex, or if he was just that godly with his tongue. Either way, you were already mere moments from toppling over the edge and he could feel it with the way your cunt pulsed around his fingers. “Gonna cum for me sweetheart?” He asked, knowing damn well the answer to that, but hearing it from you made his pride soar. You nodded your head yes, making him grin up at you from between your legs. “Want you to cum on my fingers. C’mon baby, give it to me” he said, curling his fingers to rub them against that spot inside you that had your body on fire. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum” you warned, throwing your head back with a loud moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on your sensitive bud and pushing you over the edge. Your wings made their debut as you came, fluttering and shaking as your body was wracked with pleasure. “Good fuckin’ girl, just like that” he talked you through your orgasm, helping you ride it out for as long as possible before you made the descent from cloud nine. “Holy shit…” you panted out, doing your best to catch your breath as he stood back up. “I’ll take that as a compliment” he said with a grin, making you laugh weakly as he began to unbuckle then remove his jeans and underwear. “Please do” you answered before he kissed you once more. “We’re not done yet, darlin’” he said, helping you get rid of the shirt that was barely clinging to you before picking you up and pinning you against the nearest wall.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been pinned there, your bare chest exposed to the cool air, skirt hiked up to your tummy and your legs wrapped around his waist. You had cum two more times already, working your way towards a third. Your body moved with every harsh thrust his hips made, allowing him to watch as your tits bounced and your head fell back against the wall. “Eyes on me, pretty. You can give me one more, can’t you?” he asked, his thumb and pointer finger of his free hand tilting your chin down to fix your gaze on him, making you whimper and nod as you bit your lip before your jaw dropped with a lascivious moan. “There you go, just like that. Wanna hear those pretty sounds and see those eyes on me” he praised, his soft words and kind tone a stark contrast to the way he was fucking into you with reckless abandon. He felt you clench around him and whimper at the praise sent your way, making him give a cocky chuckle. “Y’like being praised darlin? Felt that pussy squeeze me nice ‘n tight” he asked with a grin despite your body already giving him the answer. “Yes! Love it, love it when you praise me” you babbled out, trying your hardest to speak and formulate words that made sense but your voice was quickly betraying you. “Such a sweet thing for me, letting me use you like a fuck toy. There isn’t a single thought in that cute head of yours, is there?” he responded as his hips jack hammered into you at an unforgiving pace, pounding you into the wall so hard that you knew bruises would be there. “‘s okay baby, gonna take good care of you. Gonna make sure she doesn’t go a day without feeling good” he promised, making you whine at the prospect. Your hair was falling from its once neat and tidy bun, your cheeks flushed and chest heaving as pants and moans fell from you in a sinful melody. You were a mess and he fucking loved it because you were all his to ruin. “Fuck, Logan! Oh my god- yes!” You panted, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut momentarily at the feel of him pounding into that spot that had you writhing for him. That spot deep inside you that your fingers could never reach, and you swore you were floating even higher than cloud nine.
Your neck and chest were littered with bruises that marked you as his, from the hickies left behind on your tits that he couldn’t get enough of, to the rough bites into your shoulder and neck as he lost himself in you. Your claws bit into his skin as you held onto him for dear life. He growled each time you would scratch or dig them into his skin, a momentary blissful pain that would disappear as he healed, but only added to the pleasure. You didn’t even care anymore about the dull ache blossoming in your back from being shoved against the wall, or the possible noise complaints from the neighbors, you were so lost in pleasure that you could hardly even remember your own name. His name fell from your tongue like a mantra to a forgotten god, every drag of his cock inside of your gummy walls left you speechless. “Feel so fuckin’ good around me, like she was made for me. Been wanting this for too damn long” he admitted, and if you weren’t so beyond cock-drunk, you’d have been able to properly say the same. “M-Me too- fuck!!” Was all you could utter out between your moans, getting closer and closer to your release. “Yeah? Wonder what dirty thoughts have been roamin’ around about me in that pretty head of yours” he said, making you blush as you thought of all the things you’d fantasized about in the privacy of your own bedroom, all the things you’d wished he would do to you. You watched as his hand traveled to where your bodies were connected, his fingers rubbing circles against your sensitive clit to push you closer to your breaking point. “Think about me playing with her? Think about my fingers taking the place of yours to make you cum as you fuck yourself to the thought of me?” He asked, making you whimper as you looked to him, shaking your head yes in reply. “Fuck, squeezing me so tight. Gonna cum again for me, baby doll?” He asked, and once again he didn’t need a response from you, he could tell by the way your voice got higher in pitch and the way your walls were squeezing him tight that you were right there. “Yes! Gonna cum- fuck, Logan please!” You begged. How could he ever say no to you when you sounded so sweet? “Go ahead doll, cum for me. I’m right there with you” he admitted and you could feel it with the way his hips began to take on a more sporadic rhythm, but his fingers rubbing circles at your clit gave you that last little push you needed to topple over the edge one last time. “Good fucking girl. Look so good cummin’ all over my cock. Fuck, gonna fill this pussy up. Be good and take it all for me, yeah?” he praised, thrusting into you a few more times before reaching his peak with a feral growl. He buried himself deep inside of you, the blissful feeling of him pulsing with each rope of his seed coating your walls making you moan. His movements came to a halt once he was milked of everything he could give you, leaving you to wrap your arms around him and hold him against you as you basked in the after glow.
You both fought to catch your breath as you came down from your highs, his face lifting from the crook of your neck to check and make sure he hadn’t been too rough with you. You smiled up at him, pulling him into a soft kiss. “You alright, bub?” He asked, making you shake your head yes as you looked at him. “Never been better” you replied, making him chuckle as he tried to set you down, but his arm wouldn’t move. You both looked to the wall where his fist sat to anchor his body weight to keep you held up and to not lose his footing and were shocked at the sight. “Shit” he said, pulling his claws from the wall before they sheathed back into his hand, making you giggle. “So much for the security deposit” you quipped, making him laugh. “Hasn’t happened in a long time, sorry doll” he said, thinking that it might have scared you when in fact it had done the complete opposite. “I’m flattered. Not every day that you get to make a handsome mutant so feral from fucking you that his claws get stuck in the wall” you teased, making him chuckle as he kissed you sweetly. “You’d be surprised the things you do to me” he added, making you giggle with interest as he helped you to your feet and helped you clean up. “Here. Sorry I fucked up your clothes” he said, taking his shirt off and giving it to you to cover up with as he pulled his jeans back up and adjusted his belt. You wasted no time slipping it on, discarding the useless remains of your skirt and taking in the smell of his cologne on it. “I’m not” you replied. He couldn’t help the soft smile that came to his lips at the sight of you in his shirt, it fit on you like a night dress. “Could get used to that” he said gruffly, making you smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck once more, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him once more. “Me too” you said sweetly into it, his hands finding your hips beneath his shirt and sighing into the soft, sweet kiss. “Tread carefully, I get worked up easy” you warned, making him laugh. “Fine by me, makes two of us” he replied before taking the kiss down a more heated route.
The sounds of a set of keys rattling in the door was drowned out by your excited giggles and the intimate moment shared between you and Logan as you stood in the kitchen. Your playful giggles and words could be heard from behind the door, making Wade think that the party had already started without him. As the door opened, Wade stepped into his apartment to find quite the opposite. “Pump the breaks party people, your host has arrived!“ he went to say before giving a dramatic gasp at the sight of you and Logan together. His gasp was what brought you both back to reality, and with Logan standing there shirtless, you wearing his shirt, and the dents in the wall, you figured it was obvious to anyone what you were up to. “Shit. Hey Wade” you spoke shyly, a blush tinting your face as you waved at him, making Logan turn to see his roommate was back. “Fuck” Logan said, knowing he would never hear the end of it now. “I see that. Well I was going to say congrats but, seems Wolvie’s adamantium rod beat me to it” Wade said, making you cover your face in shame. “About time, love birds! Didn’t think it would cost me my kitchen, but hey, what are friends for?” He joked, making Logan roll his eyes as he did his best to stand in front of you, shielding you from Wade’s eyes that tend to roam. “The demon outfit’s cool, bet it made for some freaky role-play. Really wish I would’ve gotten a heads up that it was a Halloween party, I’d have been a slutty nun” he continued, only further pissing Logan off. “‘s not a costume, asshole” Logan defended, making you grab his arm to assure him it was okay. “Oh, well look at that, even better. And she didn’t even need to pump you full of aphrodisiacs or sex pollen to get you to boink her brains out, just needed to leave you two in my apartment alone for a while. Funny how that works” Wade replied, making Logan grumble and groan in disdain. It wasn’t the sort of celebration you anticipated, but certainly was a happy ending to a pretty good day.
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alpaca-clouds · 11 months
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Schrödinger's Disability
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"Stop using your autism/adhd as an excuse!" I cannot tell you how often I got to hear that. Because here is the thing: Most people do not perceive either of those two diagnosises as "real". Even if they know they are real. Even medical professionals do not quite... understand it. Even those working with neurodivergent people.
Of course, if someone is the kinda autistic person who has also some sort of mental impairment, people perceive it as a disability - but if it does not come along with that kinda stuff, a lot of people treat it, as if we make an active choice to do or not to do something.
I told this story yesterday: When I was a kid, the following thing would always happen. When we would have art class, some of my pencils would drop from the table. Most likely because of dyspraxia. Now, when that happened I was simply not able to stop what I was doing. Because my brain cannot handle "stopping one thing to do another thing even for just a moment" very well. And it could handle it even worse when I was a kid. But also, I do not have object permanence. So, if an object does not exist within my field of vision, I just... forget about it. So, I often would just forget to pick the pencil back up. And teachers would be: "Oh, this boy is too lazy to pick up his own things." Which was not at all what was happening.
Another thing that happened to me too often is a very typical autism thing: Someone tells me something. But they do not tell me this in plain words, but rather imply it. So... I very much just not understood it. So, for example, I got told on a Discord Server by one user: "I have muted this channel." Which I understood as: "They muted this channel (maybe because it is very active)". What they said was, though: "I do not wanna see this channel, stop tagging me in this."
And mind you, this happens at work and university, too. A good example is the good old question of: "When are you done with this?" Which I usually understand as: "When are you done with this?" But what they mean to say is: "Hurry up, I need this now."
Last semester I had this happen at university even. Basically I misunderstood the final assignment, because it was not spelled out. Thankfully the professor was less of an asshole about it, than most people. I explained it to him, he understood, still got a good grade. But that tends to be more the exception than the rule.
As I said, this is a thing that even medical professionals do not really get. Even therapists do again and again fail to just communicate with autistic people clearly. They do not think about us usually being unable to understand implied meanings. We only understand the literal meaning for a lot of stuff.
And again: This is especially harsh with people like me, who superficially seem to function well in society. Heck, I have been told by professionals that I could not have ADHD or autism, because I archived a master's degree at university. Because they cannot comprehend that both ADHD and autism are a spectrum. It is not something you "either have, or have not" but it is a wide spectrum of symptoms that are differently strong in different people.
In Germany this also shows harshly when it comes to disability benefits. Because autism on its own rarely ever qualifies for disability benefits at all. Mental disabilities that might be linked to autism do. But autism on its own? No. Same goes with ADHD. And this... is kinda silly, right? Because we have studies upon studies that people with autism and ADHD often cannot work fulltime - at least not permanently. And we also know that generally neurodivergent people are more likely to be fired for a plenthora of reasons. So, yeah, we should kinda be treated like disabled, right?
And the worst part? In the parts where you get legally discriminated because of disabilities? Yeah, we still get that. We cannot immigrate into all other contries. Like, I cannot immigrate into New Zealand, for example, even though I would like too, because New Zealand discriminates against people with autism when it comes to immigration.
So... yeah. No, this sucks.
Nobody would tell a blind person overlooking a visual sign: "Stop using your blindness as an excuse". But with autistic people? It is the norm.
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evilminji · 1 year
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Actually? WOULD Earth be the ones to petition Oa?
They are interstellar Space Interpol. You don't usually call them on different parts of your OWN settlements or systems. You call them in when someone is breaking THE Laws. Not necessarily YOUR laws, though obviously by breaking THE laws they clearly ARE. But THE Big Laws(tm).
Like Geneva Convention for Space type laws.
You have discovered Planet or King X is committing WAR CRIMES. Call Oa. Tax fraud? That's an inter-personal planet side issue they can't help you with. Pointing Nukes at your nursery settlement and threatening to blow up the infants there unless you give them sex-slaves?
Knock-knock! Taste HARD Light Constructs!
But if so? Then how would the situation get so out of hand on Earth? With the G.I.W.? Simple. Tell me, Mr. President, what do you know of the current day to day life of villagers in rural Siberia?
That they exist? Could you even NAME their village, if I referenced specific individuals? Likely not. And no one would realistically expect you too.
There are countless planets out there! With Leaders busy with local industrial conferences and infrastructure bills. Farming regulations. Talks with that planet a few stars over. Very busy. What do THEY know of Earth? Why would they NEED too?
But! As we know, Ectoplasm is EVERYWHERE. Not just earth. And? Thin spots are not just an Earth-centric phenomenon. Other planets most CERTAINLY would have them too. And depending on the species? The culture? To quote the wise sage Bill Wurtz "you can make a religion out of this!"
After all, chosen few, returned from death... glowing and more powerful then before? Immortal? It's a pretty reasonable conclusion to come too. They are clearly Gods Touched. Some sacred task they must complete.
It would likely even shape the ghosts of the region themselves. After all, they TOO, would believe they were chosen for some Important Religious Task. Be it study or collecting rocks. To what end? Unknown. Who are they to question The Gods?
But! Oh happy day! The old tyrant is no more! A chosen Hero! They go to greet him! Honor him, as you do. Traditional gifts and ballads. Maybe some sacred rocks. A fancy hat. But? Oh? The Champion is wounded! Gasp! Still? But the fight with Pariah happened-
And then they are given Grave Warning(tm). Don't go to Earth. Heretics attacking people. KILLING souls! Trying to KILL the king of all the Infinite! He is somber because his living parents were hurt. Preventing the END OF ALL THINGS!!!??
WHAT!?
These "People In White" tried to EXPLODE the very FABRIC of all realities!? Several of them faint. Truely, these Fentons MUST be chosen by the Gods! Heros. Legends. Such bravery in the face of such HORRORS. Please, let them be brought to their Living counterparts! The hospitals are quite good!
And you know what? Fuck it. Danny will take that. Because his Mom n Dad got hurt. BAD.
They learned he was Phantom at probably the SINGLE worst time imaginable and still chose HIM. Chose THEM. The GIW were coming for him. Gonna hurt Jazz. And his parents told them, with fire and blood, it'd be a cold day in hell before they let them so much as TRY it.
They BLEW UP their own life's work. Went literally scorched earth. And now? They're not doing so good.
Because the Zone isn't made for the living. No food, no water, and no real human-safe medical supplies. They've run out. Danny will take what he can get. He'd even go to Vlad but... his Portal's gone too. And the Buzzards said he looked... spirally. Very... "suicide runs until everything BURNS".
So, yeah. No one's doing so great.
Alien planet it is.
They are greeted with fanfare and respect. The best medical teams on the PLANET. The King and his family is there, to welcome him. It's... it's beautiful. Hardly some perfect utopia, but the air is lite. Art everywhere. The stars vivid and so easy to see, at night.
The King kinda reminds him of Mr. Lancer to be honest. Balding and a bit round around the middle, stern but endlessly fair about it, wants people to do their best and succeed in life. Maybe that's why Danny finds himself opening up. Because... because here is a real, honest to God, KING king.
Somebody who was actually TRAINED to do all this King stuff.
Unlike Danny.
And Danny? He's scared. People expect him to Lead now. To know what he's doing. To somehow just... suddenly KNOW how to do all these things he's never even heard about. He only barely just died. Has BARELY been keeping everybody safe.
BARELY stopped Pariah.
He doesn't know what to do. But he pours his guts out. All the things that have bottled up. And King Not-Lancer listens. Somber and thoughtful. There is little, if anything he can TRUELY do to help. But... there ARE things he can do. Lessons on statescraft, while he's here, for one.
As for the other? Well, as King, he does have the local Lantern's Call Sign. Not to be used lightly, mind you. But what Danny describes? And from what the Sacred Ones have reported? THAT must be reported to Oa. He can show Danny how to do that.
(He does)
[The Lanterns of Earth get a VERY exciting call from Oa. Are every different shade of pissed. But? Whoops! Looks like they ACCIDENTALLY put the Watchtower into a complete Quarantine! Well, dang. Guess we're all stuck here for two weeks!
Reset it? *sound of smashing computer terminal* Yeah, don't think that's gonna work! :)
WHO WANTS TO PLAY 20 QUESTIONS?? We'll start! :) Who here has heard of an organization called, and I quote, The Ghost Investigation Ward? :) ]
@hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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bro-atz · 4 months
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if only it was simple [bro's 500 — hongjoong]
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[enemies to lovers, smut, royal!au, hongjoong/afab!reader]
requested by: 🍀
in which: kim hongjoong is the bane of your existence, but you cannot seem to live without him.
word count: 2k
content: smut, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, doggy, window sex, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS WRAP UP IRL), consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: @pocketjoong @nebulousbrainsoup pls don't kill me i have more things to finish writing hehe
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Every time your parents hosted a royal ball for all the neighboring kingdoms, you resented them because you hated the balls they threw. You honestly hated being royalty because that was just not something you vibe with. No, you liked peace, quiet, and when a sense of calm washes over the castle while you read all the books in the royal library. So, a mass gathering of people was definitely not your cup of tea. Gosh, how you would prefer a cup of tea over the stupid blood red wine in your glass.
It wasn't just the noise, either. It was the people who brought the noise. You didn't know how on Earth other princesses could gossip for minutes, hours, days, freaking eons, but they did, and you hated it. And the princes were just as bad, but rather than gossips, they just spread vulgarities. You wanted to wash your mouth with soap just listening to what they would talk about.
Prince Hongjoong of the Kim Kingdom was the worst of them all. He gossiped with the princesses, he engaged in the vulgar talk with the princes, and he treated you like scum. How you loathed him. You loathed the way he talked, walked, acted— the entirety of his being made you feel like he was put on this world to torture you. And, of course, that torturous being just had to approach you the second you fell within his line of vision.
"Hello, princess," he greeted you with a very obviously sardonic, sickly sweet voice.
"Prince Hongjoong," you bit back as you maintained eye contact with him.
"Ooh, yeah, I did not like the way you said my name just now, princess. Why don't you try a nicer tone? It would suit you."
"Go jump up your own ass and die."
"So mean," Hongjoong sniffled and wiped away his crocodile tears. "You should really treat your guests better."
You didn't even bother responding to him. You quickly turned your head away and walked away from Hongjoong, knowing that the man would not follow. He knew better than that.
While you desperately wanted a distraction, there was quite literally no one you wanted to distract yourself with. Again, you seriously hated these stupid balls. Rather than talk to another royal, you called over one of the butlers and tried to give him the glass.
"No, princess, you mustn't waste," the butler scolded you.
"Please, I didn't even want this in the first place," you sighed heavily. "Can't you just give it to someone else?"
"I'm sorry, princess, but I cannot do that either. You will just have to finish it."
Swell. With a wave of your hand, you dismissed the butler and cradled the glass in your hands, your fingernails clinking against it as you tapped your fingers. Yes, you knew not to waste food or water, but wine was not water, and it wasn't like you could give it to some starving child because children were not supposed to drink wine. So, you needed to dispose of it in another way.
It was when you accidentally made eye contact with Hongjoong again and saw the smirk spread across his face did you find a solution to your little problem. To top that, he was flirting with another princess from another kingdom, flaring up your irritation even more. You glided towards him and very purposefully spilled the dark liquid all over his jacket, effectively ruining it.
"Oops," you said rather flatly.
"Really?" Hongjoong responded with a sigh of exasperation followed by a half-assed chuckle.
"You should get that cleaned up! Here, I'll do it for you," the princess Hongjoong was talking to inserted herself between the two of you, ending your slight glaring contest.
"No, princess. It wasn't your fault. It was Princess Y/N's, so I believe she should take accountability for her actions," Hongjoong shook his head. Then, turning to meet your glare with a cheek smile, he added, "Don't you agree, Y/N?"
Before long, you were in your personal bathroom. You found the supplies you needed to get the wine stain out of Hongjoong's jacket, and rather than take the jacket off, he kept it on. He sat on the edge of the basin and waited for you to begin correcting your mistake.
"Be honest with me, princess," Hongjoong whispered as you got to work. "Do you have a problem with a wine or with me?"
"Both," you immediately responded. "But the lesser of the two evils is definitely the wine."
"That stings."
"Tough."
Hongjoong let out a scoff. He leaned back and observed you working on his jacket, the warmth from the alcohol he drank that night started to consume his body— it was either the alcohol or lust actually. To figure out which it was, he tucked the hairs framing your face behind your ear before placing his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him. He didn't mean to look down as he wanted to observe your facial features, but considering you were bent over, he got an eyeful of your cleavage. It was definitely not alcohol, but lust. His fingers then moved from your chin to your hair, his fingers raking through before grabbing a fistful. He ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with every passing second.
"Down on your knees, princess," Hongjoong said in a very low voice.
"Absolutely not," you flat out refused.
"You better listen to me when I'm asking nicely."
"Asking nicely would include the words "please" or "may", and I've never heard either of those words leave your tongue," you nearly spat out. "Besides, you said we would never do this again—"
"I know what I said, and I don't care anymore. Knees."
With a slightly wistful sigh, you lowered yourself to your knees, Hongjoong's lap before your face. Your muscle memory activated, and you got to work on undoing Hongjoong's pants, your fingers pulling at the waistbands.
"I thought you didn't want to do this," Hongjoong snickered. "But you seem so eager right now."
"Shut up, Hongjoong," you breathed out before revealing his hard red cock, your mouth watering.
You completely took Hongjoong by surprise when you immediately took him into your mouth, your head going all the way down, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Hongjoong flung his head back and bit his lower lip to hold back his moans. His hold on your hair got tighter, and he guided your head back up, his hand moving you at the calm, steady pace that he wanted.
“Yes, just like that,” he hissed through grit teeth. “Keep going, princess.”
When Hongjoong shoved your head down all the way every so often to get you to gag, it made you resent him a little more, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like the rough way he was treating you while you sucked his cock. You also kind of liked it when he praised you and massaged your head when he adjusted his grip of your hair, and when you heard his breathing hitch and his moans get higher in pitch, it filled you with excitement.
“Oh— I’m cumming!” Hongjoong groaned, his cock quivering uncontrollably in your mouth.
He pulled your head back and rubbed himself a couple times before decorating your face with white stripes. You licked your lips, the saltiness of his cum lingering on your tongue as you tasted him. While it was fun momentarily, you frowned at him and let out an exasperated sigh.
“Goddammit, Hongjoong, now I need to clean my face,” you grumbled as you stood up, your fingers already beginning to clear his cum from your face.
“Would you rather I have you swallow?” he asked cheekily.
“Honestly, yeah. It’s neater that way.”
You heard him let out a slight chuckle as you turned your back to him. You poured some water into the sink and bent over to begin washing your face, letting your guard down completely. You were so fixated on clearing the opaque off your skin that you didn’t even realize Hongjoong had approached you from behind and started undressing you from the skirt down.
“Hongjoong! What are you doing?!” you yelled at him as you tried to turn around and get him to stop.
“Princess, you can’t tell me that you don’t want this right now,” Hongjoong sighed as he forced you over the sink, his bare waist pressing against yours. “You’re so wet. It’s as if your cunt is begging for me.”
You couldn’t argue with that. Hongjoong’s moans earlier turned you on to an incredible extreme, and you were itching for relief. You pressed your lips together before admitting defeat and saying, “Then you better do a good job, or I will—”
“Don’t worry, princess,” Hongjoong interrupted. “I always do a good job. You know that.”
Spreading your ass cheeks, Hongjoong got a stellar view of your glistening cunt. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as his thumbs neared your folds and spread them, your gaping hole eagerly waiting for him to fill you up. He wasted no time in lining up his cock with your cunt and shoving into you, your entire body lurching forward with the impact. Your hands gripped the sides of the sink, your hold getting tighter as he began to move at a steady rhythm, the sounds of his waist slapping against yours echoing in the silence of the bathroom.
“Oh, princess,” the prince groaned blissfully. “You’re always so tight— you were made for me, weren’t you?”
You answered with a little yelp when he changed his angle and thrust upwards, his cock rubbing against your walls all the right ways. It felt so right, but truth be told, it wasn’t enough for you. Neither you nor him, apparently, as he grabbed your waist and pulled you upright. His cock left you for a split moment so he could turn you around to face him. He then led you to the sole window in your bathroom.
Bottles clattered to the ground as Hongjoong swept everything off the windowsill and hoisted you there. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he prepared to enter you, this tip of his cock teasing your clit. A whine emerged from the back of your throat as you gripped Hongjoong shoulder’s, the fabric from his jacket getting bunched up in your grasp.
“Don’t tease me,” you whimpered as you pulled him towards you.
Hongjoong let out a snort of amusement. Locking eyes with you, he did as you quite literally begged and stopped teasing you, his cock swiftly entering you and filling you up once more. You groaned in slightly relief before biting on your lower lip to keep all of your lewd noises to a minimum. However, Hongjoong didn’t like that. With his thumb, he pulled down on your lower lip, forcing you to let go.
“You know I like to hear you, princess,” Hongjoong murmured as his lips neared yours, his breath brushing past your lips.
“We can’t be too loud, though,” you replied through erratic breathing as Hongjoong’s thrusts sped up. “The ball is still going on.”
“What a shame,” he sighed.
So, to help you keep quiet, Hongjoong’s lips met yours, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he kissed you feverishly, his waist gyrating into yours with incredible speed and vigor. Your hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck, your fingers running through the hair on the back of his head.
“O-Oh, Joong!” you cried.
“Are you close, princess?” he asked, his breathing hitching as he felt himself nearing his climax.
“Mmhmm… Oh, God!”
You flung your head back as you felt pleasure wash over you, white filling your vision. You were blinking stars out of your eyes when Hongjoong guided your face back down, his lips meeting your again as he seemed to not be able to get enough of you.
“May I cum inside, princess?” he asked you breathlessly in between kisses.
“Please.”
Hongjoong moved away from you slightly so he could get a better hold of you as he thrust rapidly into you several times before releasing his load inside you. His groan of ecstasy echoed in your ears as he dropped his head to the nook of your neck, his hot breath hitting your collarbone.
“Was that good enough for you, princess?”
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bro's 500 event | bro's 500 event masterlist
bro's 500 taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @nakiiko @hyukssunflower @aaa-sia
@k-hotchoisan @hwallazia
networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet
@ksmutsociety @newworldnet @wonderlandnet
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inkskinned · 1 year
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im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:
videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.
and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.
this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.
there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.
there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.
for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.
i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.
here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."
eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.
we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.
"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"
thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.
it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.
an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.
and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."
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Hello! Could you do Percy pinning after another Demi-god?
Percy Pining Over Reader
Hiiii!! Percy pinning over someone in my opinion is just a really cute concept 😍
also guys I’m going to try and respond to the asks in my inbox, I have some free time now that it’s the weekend😜🔥🔥
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He would the definition of puppy love
When he first sees reader at camp half blood, it’s like his entire world quite literally stopped
Heart eyes, blushing a little when you introduce yourself, Percy is absolutely SMITTEN for you
Omg he would be SO nervous around you for while
Like Percy’s fumbling over his words and making the WORST awkward jokes known to existence
He would try to be smooth when talking to you but he just gets too nervous to even finish his sentence
He would totally over explain a joke or saracastic comment he made when you’re around
He doesn’t want you to think his jokes suck ok💔
He’s always pairing up with you during games and training at camp since he likes being around you
It’s moments like those where he can act normally, making small jokes and being able to talk comfortably with you since there aren’t a bunch of people looking at you guys
His crush on you is super obvious but you just think he really wants to be you’re friend (but you do want to believe there’s something else)
Now the actual pining part
I feel like he would try and keep his distance from you because of how chaotic his life is
This dude goes years with his life being in danger every single time
The last thing he would want is to drag his crush head first into danger which is why he manages to keep some distance from you
Like come on guys, if Percy gave himself the big push something could totally happen between y’all
But he believes that with everyone basically out to get his head, he doesn’t deserve something as normal as being in a relationship
So he forces himself to stay behind that thin line of being just friends and something more
Forces himself to watch as you continue your life while he continues his
Forced to watch from a distance as you flourish over time
Like as much as it breaks him to see other people show romantic interest in you, he can’t bring himself to admit his feelings for you
Grover has caught him staring at you longingly multiple times and he’s starting to lowkey feel bad for him at this point😭😭
He would try hyping Percy up, to push him to finally make the game changing move
“Come on Percy! You can’t just stare at them forever!”
“I can sure try.”
You’re gonna have to tell them how you feel eventually.”
“And have them laugh in my face? Yeah right.”
Like Percy is clueless to your own pining as well, he’s too busy moping around to see you always looking towards his direction, almost like you’re waiting for him to come up to you
If he’s ever going to get out of the pining phase of your relationship, I think you would have to make the first move on him
He would be SO HAPPY if you did, he’s just so concerned about putting you in danger if you’re with him
As long as you reassure him that this is something you want, you really want, then he’s all down
This dude is super giddy and happy now the he won’t have to look at you from a distance anymore😭😭😭
Yeah for the most part, his pining could lead to two different scenarios
One where you make the move on him and start a relationship, or one where his pining turns to unrequited love
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befuddledcinnamonroll · 7 months
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THIS SHOW
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Can we talk about how they are literally not wasting a single frame in the storytelling? It's short, but so damn effective.
I've talked before about how this is not just a story about individuals, but about existing within a fucked up system.
It's about how we get accustomed to terrible treatment, because we exist in a space where everyone sees it as normal.
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And those who realize it's not normal, those who try to push back, don't tend to last.
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But once they're gone, we realize how much they (and their ability to see the truth) were protecting us from things being the absolute worst.
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How our acceptance of this kind of life and workplace perpetuates the cycle for the new people as they come in.
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And though we think we are only martyring ourselves, it results in the sacrifice of others. Because in our choices for ourselves, we are helping to feed them to the machine.
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But it's still so hard to walk away, because you become so numb to it all. Until you are sure that parts of you are permanently broken.
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And you also know that these systems are everywhere, they are our society, so who's to say you could ever find anything better?
It's the slow crushing of the soul, that makes you feel like it all could just be so futile.
Which is why what Kai is doing is so brilliant here.
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He's not denying the reality of the world they exist in. He's not being pushy or angry about Hiro's choices.
Instead Kai is utilizing temptation, showing that there are things, some of them quite simple, that can bring joy. That can break through the futility.
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That prove that you can still feel.
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But you have to choose them. Because like all things in this life, they are ephemeral.
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The systems might not go anywhere in our lifetimes, but that doesn't mean the choices we make don't matter. For ourselves - and for those who see us do it.
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casscainmainly · 17 days
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Duke Thomas and the Robin Mantle
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There's been some minor discussion about whether Duke counts as an 'official' Robin or not. While that discussion is interesting, I actually don't think it's the crux of the Duke and Robin issue. To me, the question is whether or not he should be Robin. And, to me, the answer is definitively yes.
This is purely my opinion, and I haven't read every single Duke comic so it's possible I've misread/missed things. Any Duke fans, absolutely feel free to add or disprove anything here!
The Changing Robin
The first thing to understand is that Robin, as a mantle, has shifted with each person it's been passed to. Tim's Robin doesn't mean the same thing as Jason's Robin, which doesn't mean the same thing as Damian's. A mark of a true Robin is the ability to shift the meaning of Robin by wearing the colours.
Duke absolutely fulfils this criteria. In fact, him and his We Are Robin crew are the biggest shift in the meaning of Robin since its creation.
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Cover from We Are Robin #1. The phrase "We're not sidekicks. We're an army!" signals the shift from Robin as individual to Robin as collective; from Robin as tied to the singular Batman to Robin as a wider movement, a socio-political force. The last question, "are you ready?", is vitally important as well. Duke as Robin is meant to be different. He's meant to be non-normative, a groundbreaking turn in what Robin looks and feels like.
At the end of the first issue, a disguised Alfred (who started We Are Robin) thinks the following:
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Alfred infuses the phrase "of color" with two meanings: the Robin colours, and People of Colour. By explicitly linking Robin to POC, the comic is suggesting that not only can kids of colour be Robin, but that they should be Robin. Robins of Colour are the "future of this city," and Duke is the vanguard of this future. It's no coincidence that the Robin before (Damian) and the one after (Maps) are both POC. Duke, however, is the Robin that gives the mantle an explicit direction towards diversity: him and WAR use Robin as a social movement, and in doing so transform the colours of Robin into a symbol for the diversity in Gotham and the world.
Robin as Collective
Duke doesn't change Robin alone. The point of We Are Robin is that Robin is a collective, and it's important that Duke doesn't start WAR (as much as people like to say he did). By joining late, the comic demonstrates that Duke is part of a bigger movement.
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The Robin community represents POC solidarity, the necessity and ability of the oppressed to band together. Lee Bermejo ends We Are Robin's final issue with "stress on the word "we"" - Duke's arc, in one sense, is learning to rely and work with others (he initially mistrusts basically everyone). The WAR community is essential to both Duke's character development and his tenure as Robin.
So to have this page, affirming his loyalty and love for them, to be followed immediately by them being written out is... something.
Duke appears next in Batman: Rebirth, where Bruce gives him the yellow suit and tells him he's not looking for a Robin. As soon as he stops being Robin, the community around him quite literally falls apart. Izzy sticks around for a bit but fades into obscurity, Riko and Dax turn evil, Dre ends up in Arkham - all of these fates are antithetical to these characters and genuinely tragic.
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Batman: The Secret Files: The Signal is possibly the worst Duke story in existence, but it's important to understanding why Robin!Duke mattered. Riko calls Signal 'Bat-Signal', highlighting his sudden reduction to a Batman acolyte. His friends turning on him shows how, by losing Robin, he also lost the community formed by WAR. In every way, his transition into the Signal was saturated by loss.
Robin Doesn't Need A Batman
Bruce giving Duke the Signal suit is borderline insulting. He already had an identity predicated on the fact that he didn't need Batman.
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From Batman (2011) #45, Batman: Rebirth, and Night of the Monster Men. "Robin doesn't need a Batman" is an inversion of Tim's 'Batman needs a Robin' - in many ways, Duke is the opposite of Tim, who's rich, White, and whose Robin is the most focused on helping Batman. If Tim is the ideal Robin-as-partner, Duke is the ideal Robin-as-individual. His idea of Robin is not, and has never been, associated with Batman.
People who say Duke isn't an official Robin since he was never Batman's partner miss the point. He is Robin because he was never Batman's partner. That's what Robin means to him - a mantle free from Bruce and all authority.
"Batman is on the gargoyle. Robin... Robin is on the street." Robin is the person on the ground, who lives and belongs to the people. When Duke becomes Signal, this ground aspect - as well as his separation from Batman - is gone.
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In this cover from Batman & The Signal, they gave him a Bat symbol and put him on a gargoyle. They erased every single part of his Robin philosophy.
The Original Robin
Post-We Are Robin, Bruce becomes the Batfam member Duke interacts with the most. Besides the insult of Bruce withholding Robin, this fact also strips away one of my favourite aspects about early Duke - he was tied to the Batfamily through the Robins (especially Damian and Dick), not by Batman.
It's Dick, the original Robin, who chooses him.
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Dick recognises that him and Duke have a lot in common. He tells Duke in Robin War that he's "got it," and that he's a natural leader - Dick knows Duke has what it takes to be Robin, and explicitly endorses him.
Not only that, but when Dick sends Duke to jail (along with the other Robins, official and unofficial), he tells Duke that he "take[s] care of [his] family". He basically inducts Duke into the family then and there!
Dick's endorsement of Duke makes it more interesting that Bruce doesn't make him Robin. Despite Duke's disillusionment at the end of Robin War (dispelled soon after in WAR), the events in RW confirm that Duke can and should be Robin. Bruce not making Duke Robin is defying both Duke's potential and Dick's right to choose Robins.
Robin as Family
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On the rooftop in Robin War, Dick tells Duke that Robin is about family. This is the fundamental connection between them both: Robin acts as the link to the families they've lost and gained.
For Dick, Robin keeps John and Mary Grayson alive, while also symbolising his connection to Bruce. For Duke, Robin is the intersection of three families: the heroic legacy of his parents, the tight-knit community of We Are Robin, and the newfound friendship of the Batfamily.
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In Batman (2011) #45, Duke tries to give his friend Daryl a Robin badge. He says, "you and me, we came up together. We're fam[ily]." Even before Dick, Duke associated Robin with family, and Daryl implies in the next issue that Duke became Robin because of his parents' inclination to help. Signal, of course, also comes from his mom; but unlike Robin, Signal isn't a legacy mantle. As Robin, he constantly inducted people like Daryl, Riko, Damian, etc. into his family. As Signal, his circle shrinks immeasurably, until it's really only the Batfamily and the Outsiders if we're being generous. (Daryl also turns evil - a really unfortunate pattern for Duke side characters).
Lark and Conclusion
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I'm going to end with this panel from Batman & The Signal #1, which is emblematic of the way DC has treated Duke and Robin as a whole. Bruce tells Duke that Lark is "too soft" a name. DC was probably debating between Lark and Signal, but it's telling what they went with. How is Lark too soft, exactly? How is it any softer than Robin?
By overtly dismissing the bird-like name, Bruce - and DC editorial, or whoever decided this - is definitively moving Duke away from Robin. And it's a shame. In Duke's transition from Robin to Signal, he has next to no agency. Bruce tells him he's not Robin, Bruce gives him the suit, Bruce tells him not to be Lark, Bruce gives him another suit. It's a stark contrast from his induction into Robin - though Alfred arranged it, he gave Duke a choice. Duke chooses Robin.
Duke being disallowed the Robin mantle is, to me, on par with DC stripping Cass of the Bat symbol during the New 52. The racism behind both these decisions cannot be overstated - both Cass and Duke redefined their mantles, and their mantles defined them. At least Cass' mistake has been corrected, and lots of writers and fans acknowledge how horrible that period was. For Duke, he was never given a real chance. And it's unlikely he ever will be.
This is not a knock against the Signal identity or any writers. However, it genuinely saddens me to think that all of this story potential - Duke's redefinition of Robin, his relationship to Dick, his connection to We Are Robin, and above all his ability to choose who he wants to be - has been neglected and cast aside. Even if they never acknowledge his role as Robin, I hope future stories centre him once again, because it's what he deserves.
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nat-20s · 8 months
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Seen people describe The Doctor and Donna's relationship as a sibling dynamic but I think that's only true for some Doctors with Donna so here's a definitive list of which nuwhodoctordonna pairs are and aren't siblings:
NineDonna: No. They are randomly assigned roommates that become the most annoying best friends in the world. Literally the worst fucking people in existence to third wheel for, you're in a constant state of "what the FUCK are you two talking about???"
TenDonna: No. Something much weirder going on for them. I once saw someone describe them as "whatever dr doofensmirtz and perry have going on but platonic" and that's lived in my head rent free ever since. Yes Ten WOULD physically strap Donna to himself in order to confront his parents and then when it went poorly they would watch the sunset and he would tell her that she was his rock. Also very gay best friend and woman on another one of their little adventures/ a lesbian and her favorite himbo. Who's the gay best friend/woman/lesbian/himbo changes on a whim <3 Truly the icons of sticking two freak bi people with unfettered adhd together and seeing what happens
ElevenDonna: okay Yes. that is her little brother that's like 30 times older than her and she is treating him accordingly. (so so so mean but will also kick people in the shins for being nasty to him)
TwelveDonna: Sort of. Less your typical sibling dynamic and more like stepsiblings that only became stepsiblings well into their 30s and have decided to unionize. In another life they would've been a vaudeville duo that are also conmen.
ThirteenDonna: No. Not a single soul knows whatever the fuck those two have going on between them, least of all them. Probably like. The somewhat healthier mirror version of whatever the fuck The Doctor and Spymaster have going on. One time 13 sighs oh so sadly and is like "i wish i could be donna's lap dog" and when the master asks, "Like in a horny way, or???" Thirteen replies, "I don't know I just think if Donna could carry me around everywhere life would be significantly better and I could have an easier time seeing beauty in the universe again." and the master is like. "have you maybe considered prozac" and the doctor says "WELL I WOULDN'T NEED PROZAC IF I WAS DONNA'S LAP DOG NOW WOULD I??"
FourteenDonna: no. QUEER PLATONIC SPOUSES OF ALL FUCKING TIIIIMMMMEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FifteenDonna: Not quite. I think they more have the vibe of like cousins that go to family functions and always seek each other out bc they have a mutual case of "you're the only bitch in this room that I respect. You're the only motherfucker in this house that can handle me." Both of them volunteer to "chaperone" the kids table bc if Donna has to hear one more word from their uncle who won't shut up about how great brexit is she's shoving his face in the mashed potatoes and fifteen is just going to be like "you're doing amazing sweetie"
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kanansdume · 6 months
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I have SO MANY feelings about Kanan, Zeb, and Rex all being some of the last few survivors of dying cultures.
Even though the Jedi can pass on their teachings and there will always be more Force sensitive people in the galaxy, the specific culture of the Prequels Jedi that Kanan grew up with will never completely come back. Jedi like Ezra and Luke will share a lot of similarities, obviously, especially philosophically, but their way of life and traditions will look VERY different, as will whatever ends up evolving from them (and from Rey if we include the Sequels).
Similarly, Zeb finds the Lasat on Lira San, but those Lasat will presumably have a VERY different culture than the one that existed on Lasan. The two groups of Lasat have been separated for so long that Lira San has become legend and is thought to not really exist and even the people who believe it exists don't realize what it actually is and that there are other Lasat on there. This implies that it's been an EXTREMELY long time since the Lasat of Lasan originally left Lira San and the two groups have probably diverged quite a bit. Lira San itself is also just not going to feel like Lasan, it won't have the same landscapes or wildlife, the cities will be different. The language might even have some significant differences that the last three Lasan survivors would have to navigate. And there's no getting back that culture from Lasan, it's gone. There's only three known survivors and they're going to end up just... engulfed into the Lira San culture without a lot of ability to pass on what they remember from Lasan. Lasan might end up like... a chapter in a Lira San history text and that's probably it. The nuances of its culture will be lost completely.
And the clones. The clones are just going to completely disappear. People will likely only remember the clones even existed because the war got named after them. All they'll be remembered FOR is violence and death. Depending on who is talking about them, they'll either be the traitors who destroyed the Jedi and allowed the Empire to reign, or the poor pawns that the Empire used to destroy the Jedi and keep the galaxy under its thumb. Who they were will be completely and utterly lost. And there's no way for them to continue in any form. While it's POSSIBLE that a few of them might have sired children out in the galaxy somewhere, we never have any confirmation of that, and nearly all of them are dead by the time the Empire falls. Their friendship with the Jedi, what little culture they were able to develop, all of that is lost to time and will disappear once the final clone dies.
It's such a horrific thing that is happening to these three characters, a slow dying out that that's literally happening in front of their very eyes. It's the worst kind of connection between the three of them, but something that's probably really important in their various relationships. No one else understands this grief the way they do, no one else quite understands how this feels, the helplessness and hopelessness. There's absolutely nothing they can do but try to keep going and remember their people as best they can and live according to the culture the Empire has tried to eradicate.
I like to think the three of them end up discussing it one day, maybe one Empire Day they all just decide to go drinking and be maudlin together. And Kanan ends up talking about how the Jedi believed that there was no death, there was the Force. Everyone who dies rejoins the Force, so even if they're gone they're still impacting the galaxy and the people living in it, regardless of whether those who remain can feel them or not. Maybe you get a burst of inspiration or have a lucky break or meet someone you instantly click with, and maybe that's the people who've left before you still touching your life through the Force, binding you together no matter what. Zeb and Rex really connect to this belief and end up finding comfort and even a little healing in it.
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