#I don't remember what I answered to most of these because I did them really late when I couldn't sleep

[finchsflight]

The most important thing, that a lot of people who want this kind of job don't get, is that you have to have an explanation.

And not some namby-pamby 'oh, you see, it was simply up my sleeve, ha ha let's all pretend this didn't happen!'. No, you need a proper, actual, well-thought-through explanation.

(At least, for the kids I show off for. If the parent didn't ever bother getting their kid into the business, or explaining tricks -- eh, you're probably fine. But if they didn't explain the tricks, well, they wouldn't need us, would they?)

The kids -- usually, at least, that I see -- want magic. But half the time they're too smart for their own good, and there's no one who'll think you're a real wizard like a little kid. They want you to be a real wizard. But you need them to think you're just really, really good.

(Y'know. On account of how we don't endanger kids. And if that's an issue for you, then I've got a big stick and you have some fun places I can shove it.)

So that's the first thing. Explanation. Every trick you've got, you better be good and prepared for them to ask you about it, in detail, at the end of the show, and if you don't have good answers, it breaks. Yeah, yeah, a magician never reveals their secrets, but little kids hate being condescended to and they'll have a great time if you show them the props and the 'real magic' behind the magic. Yes, yes, I know, it sounds stupid.

The second thing is, you're showing off, but you're not showing off. Big elemental stuff? Usually a no-no, even if you've got a good and sciency explanation. Partially because, like... if you're doing a science show, you don't need a wand. You can just go buy some liquid nitrogen. World's neat enough as is. And partially because -- look, you're a delight. But listen. You are never as good at lying to small children as you think you are, okay?

If you're gonna need an explanation, well, that means you need explainable stuff. Me, I like kinda theming things off human magicians -- you know, cards, ribbons, vanishing boxes, sleight-of-hand style stuff. A few flashy lights. That sorta thing. They love seeing a card trick that's just impossible enough to be amazing and just possible enough to be explained.

Works to add some things they can actually recognize, too; then they get a little moment where they get to feel like they've got one over on you.

And that leads pretty well to my last one.

Eventually, a kid's gonna ask you how you did something, and you're gonna give your made-up bullshit explanation that you will have gotten really good at delivering, and then either they're gonna say "That's not possible," or they're gonna ask you if you can teach them.

And you're gonna not be able to dismiss it, or you're not gonna be able to say 'sorry, I need to go', and there's gonna be a little kid who figures out that you're a wizard.

Remember what I said? How we don't endanger kids?

This is the part where that gets important.

Feel free to remember them, bookmark their name for when they grow up 'cause you think they might be a good apprentice, whatever. But you do not recruit kids.

And you already know that. So you're not gonna like what I'm about to say, because yes, it's gonna feel icky and terrible and it is, technically, about as illegal as anything can be when you're behind the -- what's the word for it these days?

Masquerade? Oh, man, that's so much better than it used to be. Nice.

Anyway.

Learn how to muddle a kid's memories.

Yeah. I know.

No, I don't like it either.

Only a few times. Thank God.

There's a trick I use, though -- and also makes it a lot less icky -- build a time limiter. Make a spell up, on your own, that is inextricably tied to a time limiter. Make it so it breaks when they're... remind me, what's, like, an age where kids are allowed to make bad choices?

Jesus. That's too young.

Well, let's say, uh... twice that? Twice that. That seems fine.

Don't make it something flashy. Just... let the memories fade back in. And after that, if they find you, it's not a kid, and they can make their own bad choices.

Yeah, I know.

I said it wasn't always a fun job. Wasn't just talking about the bodily fluids -- oh, yeah, that too. They're totally gonna get things on you. Snot, vomit, blood... small children end up bleeding a surprising amount, honestly?

Sure, yeah, I can teach you some cleaning cantrips.

When normal people throw a birthday party for their child, they call in a magician. When magicians throw a birthday party for their child, they call you.

[miraculousshitandgigles]

Chrono gotham was a prompt that was a throwaway back in a old discord server I was a part of, nobody did it because most of them thought it was to challenging I couldn't agree more my skills aren't ment for this kind of prompt.

It basically goes when tim made his plan to get Bruce out of the time stream he knew that Bruce would be filled with time energy and would need to release it."which is a little canon but I can't really remember" so he made a plan to basically put Gotham in Chronostasis with this energy. It was a good plan as long as every Gotham rouge was in Gotham right.

It gets out of hand quickly Tim plan work of course but like half the justice league,plus all the bats are here and like a lot heavy hitters as well and tim plan used making something to get all of their rouges into Gotham he didn't expect dark side to take the bate as well. With a bunch of others as well.

And then the Chrono stasis happens and yeah the justice league, titans , and young justice are all fine at half power for sure but their fine at first. It becomes obvious without any of the bats most of information network is gone they make it by with what they have but responses that where once planned a month in advance where days or immediate reactions because they had no idea.

At first not having super man isn't a bad thing until the justice league needs to deal with one of his more common problems maybe or somebody who isn't exactly a justice league threat normally because super man just deals with them and now the league needs constant checks on them.

The titans, and young justice fuse with justice league just to keep going. An then their the political problems at first it's like how did we deal with these before and the answer is batman blocked them or him and/or Superman did negotiations if wonder woman's still around she's can do some of them but she's isn't made for this she doesn't have Clarks charisma or Bruces blackmail and political understanding.

They get by they really do but it's by a thread and this makes something else really cool. The potential for crossovers. Like ladybug and Danny phantom for example like of course we can't help where doing everything we can already send them a training manual and invite maybe and see if their okay if yes Don't worry about it, Martian manhunter is needed in Peru for helping with the floods and black canary is in a UN meeting. Flash oh he's currently covering for like three cities and barley has help so of course he not helping. What about cyborg oh he's like the last thread of are intelligence network he's doing his best but sorry. Green lantern sorry after 3 of 5 got sealed their constantly needed in space.

And the list goes on and it's gives this amazing opportunity to write how the league gets threw it or how when the bats return how they so much to clean up. Or how they start helping these other groups that appeared like ladybug and Danny it's a real good prompt just a lot of moving parts and trauma to work threw because the bats just went threw hell and the league is not much better.

Edited: hey a lot villains are also stuck btw so theirs that as well

[musical-chick-13]

I hate when something looks like it would be RIGHT up your alley and the cast is pretty stacked, but there's one person in said cast who is just. Genuinely a horrible human being.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.

wc. idk around 1 to 2k

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.

“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.

you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.

now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.

you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.

hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.

“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.

he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.

though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.

“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.

you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.

he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.

you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.

you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.

you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.

“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”

you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.

and yet. . .

“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.

sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.

“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.

you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.

“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.

sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.

his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”

your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.

you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.

“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.

“spit it out.”

there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.

sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.

you stop your thoughts for a moment.

“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”

your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.

“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.

he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.

that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.

“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.

“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.

the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”

you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.

“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”

you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.

your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.

“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.

when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.

“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”

he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.

“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.

he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;

“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”

[prlssprfctn]

I awfully need a fic, where Jason gets drugged by a big dose of fear toxin and starts seeing Joker's hallucination around — kind of like Bruce in Arkham Knight game, you know — and everyone is just... confused what to do with all of it?

They can't really produce antidote because it would fuck up his mind more, so he is stuck in the cave for the next 24 hours, and no one is leaving, because they can't allow Jason to go through this alone. Again.

Jason tries to put a brave face of course (god, he is THE Red Hood, one of the most influential people in the Gotham, he can't be afraid of a stupid clown–) but the more hours pass, the less he can control his fear or anxiety. Instead of pacing around like a ghost — he did that in the first four hours — he sits down on the couch, hugs himself, and starts answering to Joker?

Yeah, he knows he is not real. He understands that feeding hallucination with conversations will not help — and Dick, the ultimate expert in handling hallucinations, really, gave him some tips on what to do — but he can't just ignore it now.

He is too scared.

He remembers what comes if he flips off Joker or stops playing by his rules, alright?

"Knock, knock!"

Joker's face is as pale and terrifying as Jason remembers it to be. And maybe it is hallucination, but he still can feel his panted, hot breath on his ear.

He is alone, of course. Or not entirely alone, but others would notice if Joker was really here, right?

"Who is this?" He whispers, sensing his family tensing a little, not being sure what to expect.

Jason either argues with his hallucination or asks to stop. Or maybe just wordlessly scraps on his temples or cheek, in the place the J scar used to be, before the Lazarus Pit erased it from his body completely, leaving no traces.

"The stray dog that can't bark! Do you know why it can not bark, Jayjay?"

"I don't fucking know," he murmurs, but the fiericness with which he screamed at this man for hours now is gone; he sounds tired even to his own ears, and it is embarrassing. "Tell me."

"Because I broke its bones with a crowbar, silly!~" Joker shakes his shoulders, and Jason can practically feel the familiar ache of shattered bones. "It– Ahahah, it is too hurt to bark! It can only whine!"

Jason laughs.

His facial expression doesn't really change — he is still frowning a little — but he laughs with a painful wheeze. Joker is pleased enough to sigh dreamily in his ear.

Good job, Jason.

"What so funny?" Dick asks carefully, a patient smile on his face — he has been trying to distract him with conversations the most; Bruce prefers to keep his silence, and Tim thinks accidental physical touches help more than talking.

"He just said a joke," Jason shrugs weakily.

"Tell it to them," Joker orders. "Let us all laugh."

He doesn't really want to. But he can't disobey. He can't allow himself to die again, and–

"Knock, knock," he clears up his throat.

"Who is this?" Tim echoes, turning his chair to him, smart eyes scanning him up and down.

"The stray dog that can't bark," Jason tugs the tips of his own hair. "Do you know why it can not bark?"

Bruce tenses in his chair. He tenses in a way, Jason thinks, he already knows this joke; he has already heard it before. He almost looks as if he wants to stop him, cut mid-sentence.

But for some reason, he doesn't.

"Uh, why?" Dick tilts his head.

"Because my– its bones are broken," Jason stutters. "You know, dogs can't really bark when they are hurt? Just whine."

He can't bring himself to laugh again, even though Joker keeps giggling over and over.

"That's not funny, Jay," Tim murmurs.

"Yeah. I guess it isn't. But if I don't laugh, he'll get the crowbar again, and I really, really want to keep barking," Jason smiles.

He tries to ignore pitful glances of his family members, and the torture continues. No one breaks his bones this time, but Jason still whines when Bruce hugs him by the end of the night, pressing to his chest.

Joker is not here anymore, but Jason still can hear his taunting whisper, somewhere in the back of his head.

You will die his son.

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x Gn! Reader

Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 (You're here) Chapter 6

Chapter 5

"Hey Dick" Bruce called to his oldest son when he saw him in the kitchen while he was preparing a bowl of cereal

"Yeah Bruce?" Dick answered but his attention was still on his cereal

"Have you heard from (Name)?" the eldest asked

"Uh..." he kept thinking, remembering who you were until something finally clicked in his mind "Oh yeah! No, I haven't heard from them, maybe in their room?" he suggested, not giving it any importance

"Yeah, that would be the most logical answer if they hadn't moved" Bruce sighed

"What?" for the first time Dick turned to look at him surprised

"Yeah... They've been gone for a while now" Bruce explained

"But why?" Dick asked

"Well... I have to admit that I haven't been the best father to them..." he said a little embarrassed

"Oh Bruce..." Dick was about to start scolding him

"I really don't need you to scold me right now" Bruce growled

"Fine..." Dick sighed and stood up "And why are you looking for them?"

"I need to talk to them about everything" he explained "And... and apologize to them for all these years"

Dick didn't like to see any of his family sad or stressed like Bruce.

And yet he never noticed you

So he put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed him a little to try and comfort him.

"I'll help you look for them. Have you checked their room yet?"

"Yeah I already checked it and there's nothing, literally speaking" Bruce sighed

"Well maybe you missed something. You're not the only one in the family who's a detective" he smiled and the older man smiled back

"Thanks, chum" he patted him on the back affectionately

"You're welcome, old man" Then both men separated to look for the missing family member

Dick pulled out his phone and sent a message to the chat group he had with his brothers.

In which you were not included of course

Asking for a quick little meeting, that way, if everyone helped look for you all this would end quickly and they could make it up to you. Even though Dick didn't say it, knowing that you had left and hadn't told anyone and adding the fact that he now felt guilty because he paid you a lot (nothing) of attention.

"Let me understand Dickhead so..." Jason spoke "You called us, saying that this was urgent just to tell us to help you and Bruce look for (Name)?"

To tell the truth, everyone thought it was silly that Dick called them, you were a teenager, most likely you were doing something outside the mansion, you would return home soon.

"I'm sorry to tell you this Dick but, I think you're exaggerating" said Tim

"For the first time I can agree with Drake" said Damian "I have more important things to do than looking for them"

"I know, I know, but this is urgent not only for Bruce but for me too" said Dick "And why are you looking for them?" asked Stephanie

"Look..." Dick sighed "They... they... they left the mansion and Bruce Is nervous"

"They left? Why?" asked Tim

"Did you call them?" asked Cassandra

"Bruce tried but it seems they changed their number" Dick sighed

"You didn't answer Tim's question" said Jason "Why did they leave?"

"Perhaps because they never felt part of this family, Master Jason" said a voice behind them, it was Alfred who had been listening to the little meeting

"Huh? Why do you say that Pennyworth?" asked Damian

"Oh it is probably because you just decided to ignore them since they came to the mansion" said Alfred as if it was obvious

"Hey! That's not true, I used to spend time with them" Jason defended himself

"And then what happened, Master Jason?" asked Alfred and looked at him a little irritated

"Uhh... I died and then came back from the dead...?" laughed Jason nervously

"Nonsense" said Alfred and then left Jason sighed and stood up.

"How do we help, Dick?"

Jason felt like a complete jerk. How could he have pushed you aside? You were still a child for God's sake! And yet he didn't care and pushed you aside when he came back from the dead, being more focused on his revenge against Bruce and Tim. He also felt a little proud, proud that he was always the closest to you, even if it has been a while SInce then. He remembers how you looked at him in admiration in his days as Robin, how your eyes lit up when he did a stunt and how you followed him around the mansion like you were a duckling. Alfred had even taken a picture of you following him around. The simple memory made him smile. He should ask Alfred if he still has the photo. He was in your room, inspecting it like it was a crime scene but he had to admit, you were Bruce's child. This room was completely clean and it looked like no one had lived in it for years if it weren't for the fact that the walls were painted (f/c). It was like If you didn't want to be found. That made Jason let out a small chuckle, you would have been a great vigilante, if only they had given you the chance. He shook his head, trying to get those negative thoughts out of his mind and focus on his search instead. He checked every corner of your room and nothing. It seemed like you just vanished.

"Shit!" He slammed his fist on the floor as he crouched down, checking under your bed. "Where the fuck are you?”

"Keep checking their room, Master Jason?" said a voice behind him, it was Alfred who was looking at him with the same neutral face.

"Yeah," Jason sighed and stood up.

After a few seconds of silence, Jason turned to look at Alfred and asked:

"Alfred... Do you happen to have the photo you took of (Name) and me when we were kids? The one where they followed me like a duckling?”

"Yes, I have the photo, Master Jason, but I can show you more. Please follow me," said the butler as he turned around and left the room.

Jason looked at him in surprise, but without saying anything he followed him. They reached the attic of the great mansion. There were millions of boxes in that place in which they had different things that belonged to the inhabitants of Wayne Manor. Alfred began to move some boxes until he took out a specific one that had your name on it.

"What is this?" Jason asked.

"This is a box, Master Jason" Alfred said as he handed him the box.

"And it contains some things that used to belong to (Name)”

Jason looked at the box in amazement, it didn't weigh much but it didn't weigh little either but it seemed well preserved despite the time.

"Thank you Alfred" he said and then came down from the attic with the box in his arms.

Jason walked into the living room so he could see the contents of the box without any problem. He didn't know where to start but decided to grab a long but thin book. When he saw the cover his eyes widened in surprise, because that book was a photo album.

On the first pages of the album there were ultrasound images that started from the third month. There was even a 3D ultrasound in which you could see the baby's face. Jason smiled at the image and ran his fingers over the photo. He remembered your smile, it was tender and warm and always relaxed him after a hard mission or a fight with Bruce.

On the next page there was information about your birth, your weight and height and other information. There was also a compartment in which there was a small sock that would only fit a newborn baby. The young man smiled more when he saw that small garment that used to be yours, he put it back in the small compartment of the book and continued exploring. From that page, there were photos, the first ones were of your mother and another man, your mother was sitting on the hospital bed with the man next to her while he held you. Both adults looked completely happy while you slept. In another picture you were in the arms of your mother who looked tired but no less happy, the background of the picture seemed to be a baby's room. And in a third one you were in the arms of that man again, he was lifting you up in the air while you laughed, the man laughing in the same way. Jason could imagine the sound of your laughter at that age and it just made his heart beat a little faster.

He kept looking at more pictures of you, your first steps, playing with some pet you had back then, eating (although it was actually a mess but he found it cute) and then there was the picture of your first birthday, you were still so small, but you could see the excitement on your face when you saw the candle on your birthday cake, next to you your mother and that man again. He should have Tim investigate who that man was.

Jason kept looking at pictures of your first years of life, your first Christmas, your first Halloween, your first day at daycare, your first friends. Throughout the album you could see how you were growing up full of happiness, well that was until you got to the photo of your fourth birthday. From that photo on, your mother and that man didn't appear anymore, but instead there were photos of your arrival at Wayne Manor.

At first there were only photos of the great mansion and its hallways, the beautiful handwriting that was written in the previous titles was replaced by that of a small child. Throughout the following pages there were only photos of the property and the animals and there was only one photo where you appeared but now with Alfred, both smiling. You got to the photo of your fifth birthday, thinking that it was Bruce or Dick in that photo but it seems that wasn't the case. You were five, six, seven, eight years old and in your birthday photos there were only you and Alfred, that didn't seem to change despite time. On the next page, Jason was surprised to find pictures of him and you, it was when he had just become Robin and spent a lot of time with you, from photos where Jason was training, cooking with Alfred, reading, and even him teaching you how to fight. Even though those photos were extremely beautiful in his eyes, his favorite had to be the photo in which he appeared with Alfred and (Name) at his 9th birthday party. He smiled at the photograph and took it in his hands, being honest, he didn't remember that until he saw the photo again and your smile made Jason's heart flutter again. With more energy he began to look at the album and each time he appeared less in the photos until he reached your 10th birthday, but he was no longer there, again it was just Alfred and you.

"What...? No no no no no..." Jason muttered agitatedly as he looked through the album

He wasn't in any pictures anymore, nor was his family, it was just you and Alfred again and on more occasions it seemed like more people he didn't know, probably your friends.

"Fuck!" he yelled in frustration and put his face in his hands

Did he really just push you aside so foolishly? No... He had to fix it.

After all HE was your favorite brother

And HE was going to make it up to you

He was going to make it up to you for all those years he left you alone

And he was going to find you, after all, he was trained by the world's greatest detective.

How hard can It be finding you?

Hello! First of all... HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you all have a wonderful 2025! And of course I wanted to thanks to all of those people that have supported this story even If it has been just a couple of months.

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Personally I think it was kinda short but to be honest I didn't had a bunch time to write but oh well.

If you have questions about the story, a comment (respectfully) or even ideas I would be more than happy to know or answer them in any case.

I send all of you a big hug!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

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[gloomwitchwrites]

secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

taglist:

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[dunmeshistash]

Okay I think I'm ready to write the second part of this post about Milsiril

To make it easier for me I'll just divide this into her relationship with Kabru, Mithrun and Helki (her ex-canary prisoner teammate)

First about Kabru

This is an extra from the daydream hour 5. The caption says "Something like this might as well have happened" so its probably not canon but could be. I honestly think his reaction to Milsiril visiting and being overbearing says a lot about the type of relantionship they have. This is the fakest bitch in the whole of dungeon meshi, he never says what he trully thinks unless there's an advantage to doing so, he's a people pleaser that does and says anything to make people like/trust him. And yet he immediatly converts into "Mooooooom you're embarassing meeeeee" when he sees it's Milsiril.

This translation used "Mom" but as I understand the original he uses the more formal version so I think it would be closer to "Mother" but still he acknowleges her as his Mother, and he acts like her kid in every interaction we see between them.

I really don't understand where the idea that he learned to be fake from being "forced" to be her adoptive son comes from.

(Continuing under a cut)

The other interaction we see between them is the Kabru extra from the Adventurer's Bible

Kabru comes to her with a deep fear he clearly has had even before she adopted him, he trusted her with this fear and she did not disappoint him, she comforted him and then gave him the information he needed to believe what she was saying

I'd also like to point out in no moment she discouraged him from calling his his bio-mom "Mom". He also says she taught her children everything they asked

I doubt this would only be true for him, it also mirrors something she said in the manga

"You can go ahead and learn all you want about something else." I believe it when Kabru says she made every effort to answer her children's questions. I think this is also the way she expresses the love she has for them. Plus I love the thought bubble with Kabru mirroring what he learned from her. I also love this daydream hour, she sacrifices her own comfort to do something for Kabru.

Milsiril isn't a perfect mother tho, besides the fact she is overprotective she comes from a very different culture from her children. I like to call her Kabru's white mom cause I think that would be the real world equivalent. This extra is the one I think the most about showing this context perfectly

Kabru wants to share Utaya sweets but looks at his mom looking gloomy/rejected so he talks about fruitcake instead. This very rude for Milsiril to do since she's kinda trying to overwrite his actual cultural background, but I think its done more as a "I want you to like the things I like" rather than something nefarious, and once again Kabru doesn't hide at all his distaste for it, he does the bare minimum to please his mom since she's being dramatic but he doesn't lie to her, he shows how displeased he is about fruitcake, something he refuses to do when eating the harpy omelette that is way worse, because he must make a good impression for Laios. Kabru is honest with his overbearing white mom once again.

Now a little about Rin, from Kabru's context, this is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

(look at Helki he's such a gremlin i love him) anyway, Rin has a trauma about elves, they really mistreated her so she hates them, but when they notice she isn't thriving they go to Milsiril for help (Helki specifically I'll talk more about him next). I think this indicates she really has a better understanding of short lived kids, her kids are thriving differently from the ones the other elves try to care for. I'd also like to remember she lives secluded from other elves so while Kabru probably had lots of interactions with elves during his life, most of it was probably spent with Milsiril and her other adoptive kids. She also asks Kabru if he would do this to help Rin, he isn't being forced or anything, I also think it's good that Milsiril knows she cant take in any more kids, this to me shows she's worried about the quality of life her kids have. That is all to say, Rin is the one with elf trauma, not Kabru, because Kabru had Milsiril to shelter him from them.

Helki

This will be short and sweet since there's barely anything about Helki, he's her prisioner companion from her time in the canaries, but he was pardoned after Utaya, it says so in the Canarie's Structure page in the new adventurer's guide but I cant really find it translated again... so here's google's machine translation (I remember it saying "Retired and pardoned as a reward after Utaya", something like that)

so officially he isn't a prisoner anymore, but I think he still works as a canary, even so he and Milsiril seem quite close, he is the one to go talk to her about Rin, He is there when she's training Kabru (both laughing at Kabru and then participating). I saw people theorizing she stays close to him because he is also someone who she can feel superior to, but I don't believe it at all, he's STILL in contact with her even after they have nothing to with each other, I think they really have a friendship, and there's no point where it seems like she feels like she's better than him or that he's less than her, people seem to interpret Milsiril and her relationships in the worst possible ways every time and I don't understand why.

This segways into Mithrun

I've also seen people assuming she only got close to Mithrun because now he needs her and has no power over her, once again with the theory that Milsiril surrounds herself with people she can feel superior to. But once again, Milsiril had a change of perspective about Mithrun after seeing his Dungeon

Rather than she feeling superior to him I think rather she realized he was just like her. (And I think she's friends with Helki for a similar reason, it's probably easier to see him as an equal than other nobles)

I've also seen this part used as proof of that. "He said that you've got suspicious ulterior motives and that I shouldn't listen to you" as if that's true, but this is past Mithrun, the one that didn't trust anyone and thought ill of all his teammates, ofc he doesn't believe someone would help him without an ulterior motive. This doesn't prove much about her real motivations.

Also before she showed up, Mithrun was being cared for by servants hired by his brother, he isn't someone helpless she has power over, he is still a member of an important Noble family that has a caring brother providing for him, he can do without Milsiril, he had done without her for 20 years before Utaya happened and she quit the Canaries.

This is all to say I think Milsiril is just a white(elf) adoptive mom doing her best, I don't see much of anything nefarious about her or her motivations, she is flawed as all the dunmeshi characters are, she isn't a perfect mom, she isn't an evil mom, she's just a person.

Elves in general also see short lived species as "children" so I imagine this makes her "You'll always be my baby" attitude way worse, she really treats pre-teen/teen Kabru like he's a toddler sometimes. But she also respected him enough to go all out in training him. I think they're a family with everything that entails.

PS: I didn't get much into Interracial adoption since this is something that happens irl too and I don't know much about all the issues that entails, but in the end, in this case, it seems like a net positive for the kids she adopts considering all we see about how she raised Kabru.

[open-sketchbook]

an interesting thing that has happened to me the more i read is like

that whole 'people were just as smart in the past as they are now' thing is... it's useful to avoid thinking about the past as being being the domain of a universally inferior Other, but also like

i don't think people really appreciate the ways in which a lot of people living right now are way, way healthier than a lot of the people living in the past, in ways that have enormous effects on people's ability to think about stuff

the effect of iodized salt alone! and we don't put lead in everything anymore!

i'm saying this because its important to understand that a much much larger proportion of people in the past were regularly struggling with illnesses and deficiencies that today we think of as health emergencies

that's gonna affect things even before we get to questions of social technologies for learning and experimentation...

so like every once in a while when i see some shit in a history book and i'm like 'wait seriously' i remember the people they're talking about are largely illiterate, most of them experienced childhood malnutrition of some kind, and intellectual curiosity largely wasn't useful because in many cases answers better than 'idk ghosts' did not yet exist.

like, even the stuff they were experts on they still understood primarily through just-so stories because their society just straight up lacked the tools to examine the causes and effects more closely, right? if you don't know what nitrogen is but you do know what four-crop rotation is, you have to make up a story to explain it.

and if you believe that story is true, you might make decisions based on that story that go very poorly for you.

so like, people in the past weren't stupid, yes. but it's also important to recognize how people here in the future are smarter in ways you might not realize, and you gotta temper your despair about The State Of Misinformation Today or whatever with the recognition that we are, by and large, much much better equipped, physically socially and technologically, to deal with misinformation and find the truth than the majority of our ancestors

[teaboot]

Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

[ltleflrt]

Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol

So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.

So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.

Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.

I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.

In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.

(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)

I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.

Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.

This post is for them.

Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."

Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.

Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.

Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.

And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.

AND:

This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.

You're valid. You're one of us too.

And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)

[inkedbybarnes]

his baby

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky won't call you by your name.

word count: 400+

warnings: 18+ minors dni. established relationship. tooth rotting fluff, or worse... allusions to smut. a whole lot of usage of petnames mainly being baby, bucky being obsessed with the reader (that's a warning, i say), lowercase writing.

i have no idea what this is (okay, maybe i do) but it happened. really cheesy, but i guess i'm into that sometimes. hope you like this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“where's my baby?”

those three words kept echoing all throughout the compound this morning. most of the team were up and awake to welcome bucky, steve, and sam who just arrived home from their week long mission.

but his baby was missing.

“oh, god. here he goes again.” sam shook his head, fatigue written all over his face, but a bit of amusement from bucky's behaviour still shining through. he couldn't deny how admirable bucky's adoration for you was.

“calm down, punk." steve pat his shoulder reassuringly. “i'm sure she's here somewhere.”

“yeah, but where?” bucky asks again. “i haven't seen her for a week. i miss her.”

“you think he remembers her name?" clint jokingly asked.

“she has multiple names, remember?” tony answered. “baby, sweetheart, love, sweets, and.. what's the other one? i swear, there's another, or maybe two?”

before one of them could find the answer, bucky popped right in front of them to ask another question.

“is my baby okay?” his brows were all scrunched up, genuinely worried about you. “did you tell her i was coming home? i told her before we took off. why isn't she here? she's always—”

“okay, lover boy. your baby is alright, she's still sleeping in your room, i think.” tony answered him, finally calming him down. “and can you call her by her name when it's just us around? we're starting to think that you forgot what her actual name is."

“what? she's my only baby, it's not that hard to figure it out." bucky shrugged, causing at least three of the avengers to run their hands through their face at his answer. “and why is she still asleep? is she sick?"

natasha raised her hand, a guilty smile on her face. “i'm the reason for that. i made her stay up late with me last night to watch five seasons of a show we discovered accidentally,” she explained, a proud smile now replacing her guilty one. “she might be a little cranky from the lack of sleep, so you better have something for her when she wakes up.”

“oh, i do.” bucky grinned like he already knew what to give her and was prepared for it. “all of you might want to leave the tower for the entire day if you don't want to hear me giving it to her.”

what used to be the shouts of bucky looking for you were now replaced with the grunts and complaints of the team because of bucky's answer.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[yeahxsurexokay13]

bragger, lando norris

summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.

warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:

IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇

y/n.updates

Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others

y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄

view all 208 comments

fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this

fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol

fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha

user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her

fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste

fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always

fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando

fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol

fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?

y/n.y/l

Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others

y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡

view all 3.501 comments

y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:

oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author

landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺

fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING

y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since

fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)

user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼

landofan3 soy lago

y/n.y/l same

lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author

fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now

maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me

y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔

landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author

landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹

fan5 when did he say that? omg

landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆

y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?

user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?

fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews

user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author

landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much

y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you

y/n.y/l

Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others

y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋

view all 3.890 comments

fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??

y/n.y/l 🫢🫢

fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author

landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!

landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........

landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?

y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx

landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure

fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM

fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg

fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't

user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸

fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️

y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️

landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better

fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐

y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha

user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑

fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all

landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣

fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Girls Night Out

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut!!!

For the past three years, your weekends have mostly been spent following your fiance's races all over the world, and on his free weekends, you usually rest in front of the TV cuddled up to each other enjoying every moment of his free time you get to spend together.

But this Saturday night was yours and it meant only one thing - girls night out. Your best friend was celebrating her birthday, so you decided to go out to dinner and a few drinks with a close circle of friends. Girls only.

And you were really excited about that. It's not that you didn't like spending time with Lando, quite the opposite actually, lately you haven't really been interested in anything other than being in his arms, but every now and then a little change comes in handy.

As for tonight's outfit, since you just got your period, you opted for black wide-leg suit pants and a black corset top that accentuated and hugged your breasts beautifully. You looked hot, not in a vulgar way, but you were going to turn heads for sure.

"Lan, I'm about to head out" You said fixing your hair and entering the living room where your fiance was lying on the couch in front of the TV.

His gaze moved from the screen to you measuring you from head to toe with raised eyebrows.

"What?" You asked.

"That's a nice neckline you got there" He commented clearly displeased with your choice of outfit for a night out where he wouldn't be there.

"Thank you" You smiled rolling your eyes at him. "I like it too"

"You couldn't choose something else to wear? Like a turtleneck or something?" He asked making you laugh.

"And what's wrong with this? Please, do tell me"

"That cleavage of yours is begging for attention, that's what's wrong with it" He says, his expression serious and his eyes stuck on yours.

"Oh wow. I don't know what you would do if tonight I wore a dress like the one I wore for your birthday dinner" You said remembering the short cherry red dress that Lando tore off of you the second you got home from his birthday dinner celebration.

"You most certainly wouldn't leave the house wearing something like that without me let me tell you that" He says confidently making you roll your eyes at his comment once again although you secretly kinda liked that he was ever so jealous. You liked playing with his head a little from time to time.

"Where is your ring?" He asks about the big oval diamond ring he knelt before you with, even though he knows damn well you never take it off your finger.

"On my finger, of course, every day for a year now, where else would it be?"

"Let me see" You sigh moving closer to stand in front of him and hold your left hand out in front of him. He takes the opportunity to pull you by the hand and make you fall on top of him making you squeal as your chest hit his.

"Lando! Are you crazy?"

"I think you know answer to that question" He smirks grabbing your cheek and pressing his lips against yours.

"Yeah, I think I do. You're gonna ruin my makeup" You whine trying to pull away, but he ignores you pulling you in for another more heated kiss forcing his tongue inside your mouth.

"Lando.." You warn him trying to break the kiss. "Are you nervous that I'm going out without you?"

"No, I just don't want others to look at what's mine. Fuck, I don't want them even thinking about looking"

"Well, like you just said, I'm yours and yours only and you've known that for a long time now" You say pressing assuring kiss to his lips.

"Well.." His hand escapes between your thighs gently squeezing one of them. "Maybe I do need a little bit of reminding" His mouth find your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses all over it.

"Even if I wanted to, we can't, because I got my period this morning."

"I know you did. But you could use your pretty little mouth. That would convince me pretty well." His thumb traces over your bottom lip tugging it down.

"Lando..I have to leave soon"

"Baby, you can't leave me like this." He whines determined to get what he wants and you knew you wouldn't leave the house until he got it. "Touch it.. I got so hard just by looking at you." He takes your hand into his placing it over the tent in his pants. "I need you to take care of it" He whispers making you shiver and rub your palm against him.

"You better be quick" You say quietly before you drop off the couch onto the floor between his legs.

"Oh trust me, it'll take seconds" He sighs removing his pants along with his boxers and tossing them to the side. Leaning down he gives you a brief kiss before leaning back against the couch with his hands holding your cheeks.

You start by leaving sloppy slow kisses around his erected length holding your hands on his thighs. Your tongue runs lightly over his balls making him moan in response. You cup them in your hand gently massaging them while your tongue follows the line of the vein on his cock.

"Baby, put it in your mouth, please"

"Impatient, aren't we?" You tease wrapping your hand around him giving him a few strokes up and down. Your thumb crosses over his red swollen tip before attaching your lips to it and sucking on it.

He hisses at the sensation collecting your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to the side to get a better look at you.

"Fuck baby, yes, yes, just like that -ahh" Praising you, you moan around him sending vibrations through his rock hard cock.

"You don't know what I would do to you right now if you weren't on your period"

"What, baby? Tell me." You ask taking your mouth off him and stroking him in your hand spreading the precum all over his tip.

"I'd fuck you until you begged me to stop" He moans and you squeeze your thighs together trying to get any kind of friction to reduce the ache between your legs.

"You're doing it so good. Sucking me off so good, fuck" You pick up the pace of bobbing your head up and down his cock opening your eyes for a second to look at his chest heavily rising and falling, his head thrown back and lips parted.

You loved the sight of him in front of you - he was so helpless, completely at your mercy, the sounds that he was making, moans of your name escaping from his lips were enough for you to know that he was fully under your control.

You loved the way his hand rested on the back of your head guiding it, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.

"You love choking on me don't you? Yeah you do. Fuck I love watching the bulge in your throat when I fuck it." His hips bucked up as he started thrusting himself deep until his tip hit the back of your throat making you gag around him and reflexively pull back, teary-eyed, gasping for air.

"You're okay, baby, you're okay c'mon, take it" Gently caressing your cheek he tapped his tip against your lips before forcing himself back into your mouth. You continued working him up and down taking all of him in while your hand found his balls again making him a weak mess of a man.

"Fuck, baby I'm close." You felt him starting to tense under your touch as his hand replaced the work of your mouth. He took his cock in one hand and with the other he took your chin between his fingers.

"You gonna cum in my mouth, love?"

"Ahh, yes, fuck. You gonna swallow it?"

"Mhm, all of it" You nodded innocently sending him over the edge, his loud groaning broke through the room, the rhythm of his hand slowed down putting his cock back into your mouth as he reached his climax spilling his cum into your mouth.

He stayed like that in semi lying position trying to regain his strength back. You wiped your mouth with your fingers before he pulled you to him into a hug leaving a long kiss on your temple.

"Convinced?"

"I'd say so"

[kaiwewi]

Their First Villain

Secret Santa gift for @the-modern-typewriter Prompt: "Scary villain x hero in a Christmas setting of your [the writer's] choice. Could go spicy, could go whumpy, could go unexpectedly sweet!" Hope you like this! Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

“You recognised me,” the villain observes, his tone unnaturally flat. His face betrays no emotion.

“Kinda hard not to, with your…” – the hero tilts their head at where the villain’s magic continues to spread, coiling around their limbs and securely fixing them in place – “…snake thingies?”

The individual tendrils really do vaguely resemble snakes, although the magic in its entirety reminds them more of some writhing alien monster plant from an old Sci-fi B-movie whose title they cannot remember. It’s not a good comparison anyway. The movie hadn’t been scary at all.

They experimentally try to wrestle one of their arms free, but despite the magic’s apparent fluidity, the moment they push or pull in any direction, whatever give appeared to be there all but disappears and they can’t move a millimetre.

“Oh.” The villain’s eyes widen. “You can see it.”

“See it. Feel it. Didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

An awkward pause follows.

They are decidedly not blushing. It’s just warm. All of them is so warm now that the villain’s powers have moulded themselves around the hero like something liquid but alive. Wherever the tendrils touch bare skin – their ungloved hands and that area just above their ankles where their pants don’t quite meet the rims of their boots – the raw energy buzzes, prickles just short of stinging.

They’d been shivering just minutes ago in their much too thin poncho and the not seasonally appropriate Agency office uniform. Well, they still are shivering, just no longer from the cold.

Where the villain’s magic is fever-hot, his scrutiny runs icy.

“You can see it, but not fight it,” he muses. “How curious. The Agency must be understaffed to send their defenceless little office drones out into the field.”

The hero would be glaring if the villain weren’t underscoring the point by pulling his magic tighter with the mere flick of a finger. That small, anxious sound that escapes them in response brings a self-satisfied grin to the villain’s lips.

“It’s Christmas,” the hero says, once the magic has settled again.

The villain raises a brow.

“Most of the regulars are on holiday, Christmas being a time best spent with family … or so I’m told.”

“Yet you are working.”

“Don’t have anyone.” They aren’t technically without family just … Sometimes, family isn’t a place of refuge and welcome. Not a home to turn to for holiday celebrations or company. Some families fashion themselves exclusive clubs with strict rules that refuse or revoke memberships as they please. The hero forces some levity into their tone. “I have nowhere else to be today, so, I’m helping out here.”

The villain chuckles. “Helping is perhaps not what I would call that.”

“Hey, I did recognise you,” they say, defensively.

“And look where that got you.” His smile is sharper than before, meaner. “Am I your first villain? My heartfelt condolences.”

They don’t dignify that with an answer. But the answer is yes. The villains they watched being interrogated through one-way mirrors at HQ don't count.

“Pity,” the villain says with zero warmth, “that you couldn’t just look the other way. What is it with you people that you're always so eager to cause unnecessary conflict.”

“Reporting suspicious behaviour is kind of my job.” It comes out barely above a whisper and carries the distinct cadence of an apology.

“Ah yes, and my mere existence struck you as suspicious behaviour because …”

Admittedly, once they’d recognised the villain, they hadn’t taken the time to consider his appearance beyond the magic he’d been wearing around his shoulders like a particularly weaponizable scarf. The lack of a combat suit in favour of a sleek, dark coat over a woollen jumper and cargo joggers – either an outfit designed to blend in or just what the villain happens to like to wear when he isn’t working – hadn’t registered any more than the total absence of weaponry other than his powers. And while he could have hidden those better, it’s not like he could have simply left them at home.

There hadn’t been time to ponder. It had all happened so fast. Their eyes had met, and a moment later the hero had already been scrambling away from the crowd, past a stall selling mulled wine and into the nearest alley, where they’d scrolled through their contacts with stiff, unfeeling fingers. The villain had caught up with them before they’d managed to call for backup.

Their gaze darts to the remnants of their smashed phone, sprinkled across the muddy snow, mere metres away but entirely useless even if they could reach it.

What if the villain hadn’t had anything nefarious planned? What if the hero’s brain had naturally jumped to the most prejudiced conclusion all on its own?

Of course, it is unfair to treat his mere presence as if it is a crime. But the things he could do ...

They think about the parents with their cameras, filming their ice-skating children, the squealing toddlers on the merry-go-round, the nice old ladies selling tea out of the back of a car.

“You could be a danger to all those innocent people,” they defend their judgement.

“And you could be a danger to me,” the villain replies coolly. “Would be unwise, letting someone roam free who can pick me out of a crowd with a glance. Perhaps I should thank you for revealing yourself. Very ill-advised. But quite convenient. You were so obvious about it, too.”

He has crossed the distance between them while speaking. Close enough now to reach out and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind their ear with his cold, slender fingers. His other hand settles almost gently on their throat, atop the magic that has slivered around their neck at some point during the conversation.

The tip of a new tendril is in the process of worming its way lower, nestling into the collar of their shirt. It laps against the crook of their neck and they cringe away from the touch as much as the magic allows. It doesn’t hurt. It would be so much easier if it did. The touch is light; it kind of tickles and, given the overall direness of the situation, the hero really isn’t in the mood for that. Or, they shouldn’t be.

Unhelpfully, their traitorous mind supplies them with a thoroughly inappropriate image of what else someone who isn’t the enemy could be doing to them with magic such as this.

“Tell me,” the villain says as the power shifts upwards, tilting their chin back with the movement, so his nails can bite into the newly exposed skin below their jaw, “is there anything else troublesome about you, or is it just the eyes?”

He looks most pleased when their breath hitches despite their best efforts to remain stoic. His grip tightens. He’s studying them intently, staring at their eyes like those are priced gems he considers adding to his collection.

Maybe, underneath the mockery, he actually does consider them somewhat of a threat. If he didn’t, why would he be looking at them like that.

It’s stupid, truly and utterly stupid, to feel flattered. This is not respect, they know, just sharp, calculating consideration. His attention promises imminent danger, might turn lethal at any second. It’s not something they should revel in. Still, it feels good, too – being seen.

Has anyone ever really seen them before?

Or perhaps that is the lack of oxygen speaking.

They struggle to focus their vision but all the twinkling Christmas lights in the trees are starting to smudge into dull, red and golden blurs. Vertigo is clawing at them.

There is absolutely nothing they can do against the villain's grip. They're so pitifully out of their depth.

They think about their bland, only half-furnished two-room apartment; their first day at the Agency HQ; their nth day – no more eventful than the first – sitting at the exact same desk in the exact same office and working on the exact same old computer; their colleagues’ looks of pity when their 14th application for a transfer to field work is being denied and their boss tells them, in stern admonishment, that their skill sets just aren’t suited to solo missions. They think about her condescending smile when she finally does assign them the Christmas market job, clearly convinced the worst thing that could possibly happen here is people getting drunk enough on punch to start throwing punches.

They think of their first split-second impression of the villain as just another guy standing by the ice rink with a cup of something steaming in his hands and a mellow, unguarded smile curving his lips.

They hope this montage doesn’t count as their life flashing before their eyes. It’s way too sad a summary of their depressing lack of accomplishments.

They think, with equal parts age-old bitterness and new-found sarcastic vindication, about their colleagues’ infantile, unofficial, end-of-the-year office rankings where flashier heroes with more impressive abilities always receive titles such as most likely to hook up with a hot reporter or most epic battle or best one-liners.

Meanwhile, all the hero has to show for are three consecutive wins of least likely to die on the job.

Which might have been a reassuring sentiment if it weren’t so clearly code for “you’ll never be a real hero”. Real heroes risk their lives on the job all the time.

Well, look at them now!

Will their colleagues manage to come up with a new title for them in time, they wonder, if the villain kills them now, just a week before this year’s poll results will be released?

Most unexpected death has a nice ring to it.

They should be trembling in terror. Might have, if the villain’s magic weren’t encasing them so – tight but soft and deceptively warm, lulling them in. The sticky heat of it leaves them squirming, stuck in a confusing limbo between gooey not-quite-discomfort and hot-bath sluggishness.

They’re drifting. Until they’re not.

It’s impossible to discern how much time has passed or when exactly the villain has released them; but their thoughts are beginning to clear and their brain catches up to the fact that there is air in their lungs again, and that the breathless, hiccuping gasps uncontrollably tumbling out of their mouth aren’t sobs. It’s laughter.

“Are you enjoying this?” The villain sounds incredulous.

They shake their head. “I don’t know,” they manage, between hysterical giggles. “Maybe. Yes?”

“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I didn’t.”

That startles a short laugh out of him.

“I’ve never” – they pant, still struggling for air – “felt this alive before.”

“That sounds ... unhealthy.”

There is a long pause in which the villain silently stares at them while they are more or less regaining control over their breathing.

“You wouldn’t get it,” they say then, perfectly aware they must seem most unhinged. “Bet you don't even know what boredom is. Because your life is fun. Mine is not. I practically live at my stupid job, and my stupid job doesn't even pay well. No one there gives a fuck about me. And nothing exciting ever happens. So can I please just have this one damn moment without being judged?”

The villain hums, low. “And here I thought we were ruining each other’s days.” He presses a hand to their forehead. “Did the heat fry your synapses?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned. His other hand comes up to cup the nape of their neck, as if he can’t help but reach out. Just as they can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. His gaze drops, as if drawn, to their lips. “Or, are you just naturally this unusual?”

They can smell gingerbread and mulled wine on his breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” they ask, because yes their synapses are definitely fried and they do not care about consequences, awkwardness, or sanity anymore.

“Would you like me to kiss you?”

“I’d certainly much rather be kissed than killed. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats, smirking. “But we've established I’m not about to kill you. And that wasn’t a yes.”

“It’s not a no either.”

“Not how consent works, darling.”

They scoff. “You didn’t ask for consent first when you strangled me five minutes ago.”

The villain laughs again, in genuine delight judging by how his magic ripples and purrs.

“Okay, fair enough,” he whispers, shifting so his lips almost brush theirs.

The kiss that follows is sweet, surprisingly chaste, and initiated by the hero.

“So, since you mentioned earlier you have nowhere else to be today,” the villain says, afterwards, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Have you ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped?”

Pleasure, as it turns out over the course of the next few hours, is an understatement.

If anyone at the office were to find out what the hero has been up to during their first (and best) and possibly only solo field mission, not only are they guaranteed to get fired, their colleagues will also surely create an entirely new office ranking category in their honour:

First to be seduced by a supervillain.

[idkwhatever580]

You Like Me?

Pairings: WandaNat, WandaNatxreader (eventually)

Prompt: I decided to pair this prompt and this prompt together to create one big mess :)

Warnings: Poly couple, swearing, Nat being kind of a bitch, crying, a wee bit of angst I assume, fluff, soft Wanda, suggestive tones, shit writing, really im serious this writing is so shit, lmk if I missed any!

A/N: I really hope I did y'all justice because this is my first time writing WandaxNatxreader so please bear with me as I probably write a trainwreck of a story @sxlfishbrokenheart

Also don't ask what is going on with the povs I am clearly struggling throughout the whole damn thing T-T

Natasha's thoughts = Red

Wanda's thoughts = Orange

Y/n's thoughts = Purple

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Movie night at the Avengers' tower means cry night for you. Everyone in the tower has strict assigned seating so that nobody gets in a fight, even though it doesn't always keep the peace.

Everything seems to be great except for the fact that you have to sit beside Wanda and Natasha. Which isn't a problem for everyone else right? Wanda, Nat, and Y/N the towers' favorite trio...

Bestie trio, that is.

While Wanda and Nat are the perfect power couple, you're left as the third wheel that also happens to be pining for the both of them. So, while everyone thinks you love sitting with them on movie nights, you sit in agony while watching them out of the corner of your eye.

Sometimes Wanda, who sits in the middle of you and Nat, will pull you into her and claim that it's just what besties do. You of course, can't say no to her, so you end up running back to your room after most movie nights to cry about your wishful thinking.

You honestly can't even remember a movie night where you actually watched the movie. You usually just fall asleep in their arms trying to soak up the affection while you can.

But your dynamic has changed in the past few months...

Wanda is still super lovey and always pulls you in, maybe even more so than before, while Nat has become meaner and ruder towards you. So, you really feel like you're impeding on their relationship, which makes you get into your head.

Maybe Nat is being mean to me because she is jealous. Of course, she has a right to be jealous when Wands has been really close with me. I don't want to ruin their relationship. I'm not even trying anything. Maybe it is because they can sense that I like them. Oh my gosh, it is... Of course! Wanda is being extra nice because she pities me, while Nat is being mean because she is blunter and more obvious that she doesn't like me. I need to leave them alo-

You are cut out of your thoughts when a hand is placed on your thigh. That hand is none other than Wanda's, she leans in and says, "Hey, you alright?"

You quickly nod your head, and she visibly relaxes, but she continues, "Are you sure? Because we haven't even started watching anything and you look like you're zoned out on the tv that isn't even on."

This conversation peaks Natasha's interest, so she leans forward so she can see you past Wanda with an eyebrow raised. She is clearly waiting for you to conjure up an answer.

You quickly stutter out, "Oh- yeah, um, I am fine, I just- I just zoned out for a sec, you know how my ADHD can be."

Wanda squints her eyes and exchanges a look with Nat, but they let it slide. You still decide that you need to pull away from them, you can't be pretending like they are yours to love when they aren't.

So, you scooch over to the other side of the couch you three share, which isn't too far considering there is almost no wiggle room between the three of you. It still saddens Wanda regardless, but you don't see that it also saddens Nat.

The movie starts and Wanda tries to pull you in again, you consider letting it happen, but today is different. Today you pull away again, but the look of hurt that flashes over Wanda's face hurts you more than any sort of cuddling could ever.

Her expression pains you so much in fact that you get up and go to run off. Nat grabs your hand to try and catch you and see what is going on with you, but you are somehow swifter, so you just pull your arm away from her grasp and walk off.

Nobody saw you run off because your couch is in the back, but Wanda and Natasha exchange each other's glances and immediately jump up to go comfort you.

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

Wanda's pov

Y/n just ran off after I tried to cuddle with her, so Natasha and I are currently going to find her.

We are standing in the elevator waiting for it to go to our floor which is also Y/n's.

"Wanda, why did she run off like that?"

I look over at Nat and shrug with wide eyes, "I don't know, she doesn't normally do this. She pulled away earlier before the movie started but I didn't think anything of it. Oh God she didn't want to cuddle today, and I did it anyways I totally made her uncomfortable!"

Natasha cuts me off, "Hey! You're spiraling, clearly Y/n needs us to be there for her, so we have to stay calm. I am sure there is a very good explanation as to why she didn't want to cuddle tonight."

The elevator dings and we rush over to Y/n's room and before Nat bangs on the door, I lean up and hear her sniffles.

Nat hears this too and loudly knocks on the door.

I say, "Y/n? Honey? Can you let us in?"

She lets out a sob, but doesn't answer, and I am concerned for her safety, so I say, "Okay, I'm going to come in now."

I carefully pry open the door and see her sitting on her floor in tears, so I quickly make my way over to her and sit down next to her, "Darling can I hold you?"

She shakes her head, so I sigh and stay seated next to her. Eventually though, she ends up leaning into me and I wrap my arms around her. Once her tears cease, I softly say, "Can you tell us what's going on?"

She looks up at Natasha and gets scared and shakes her head. Natasha tries to ask, "Why did you run off Y/n?"

I know that she means well when she asks this, but the way it comes out is really harsh and Y/n starts crying a little bit again, and just starts shaking her head, so I hush her and lean into her ear to whisper, "Do you not want to say in front of Natasha?"

Y/n thinks about it and softly shakes her head.

I sigh and say, "I can send her out if you'd feel more comfortable."

She stays silent for a moment, and right when I think she is going to start crying again, she nods her head into my shoulder, so I lift my head up and use my powers to silently conversate with Nat in her head.

"She wants you out..."

"What?! Why?"

"Not sure."

"Then why do I have to go?"

"I know you don't get it, but she needs to feel comfortable and if that means that you have to leave then you need to go, please, I love you baby, but we have to get to the bottom of what is going on. I'll let you know after."

Natasha huffs and nods her head without another word, and she leaves the room to presumably go lay in our bed waiting for me to come and give her an update.

Once Nat leaves I go back to tending to Y/n. "Do you want to go on your bed? This floor might hurt your back."

Y/n nods softly and I pick her up and carry her to the bed. When I set her down, she sits up, so I know she is ready to talk. "Alright, what was that whole thing about? You never leave a movie night early, and you definitely don't run off crying... Right?"

The defeated look Y/n sends my way makes me realize this crying is a normal thing for her, "Oh dorogoy, why do you do this? Why don't you come to me or Nat?"

She sighs and says, "I can't go to you because- because... I- I can't tell you."

This hits me kind of hard, I don't want the woman that we love to feel like she can't come to us for anything. "Why do you say that?"

She gets frustrated and just blurts out, "Because Wanda! I-" Her face contorts to surprise at her outburst, and she quickly tries to cover it up, "I said I can't tell you for a reason."

I sigh and secretly read her mind, She is struggling because she thinks Natasha hates her.

All I see when I subtly read her mind are flashes of Nat being a complete and utter bitch to her, and that is all it takes for me to realize that she thinks Nat totally hates her guts.

I nod and say, "Okay, well I will let you figure it out, since you seem to want to be by yourself. We're always here if you need us. I am gonna go to bed I guess, Nat is waiting in our room, are you alright on your own?"

She simply nods and I ask another question, "You'll come to us if you need anything?"

She nods again and we say our goodbyes.

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

I almost run to my shared room and immediately start telling Natasha everything. "Natasha, she does like us!"

Nat furrows her eyebrows, because I only use her full name when I am mad at her. So, she looks at me and says, "That's old news, but are you mad at me? And it also doesn't explain why she was crying."

I sit down on the bed and tell her, "Nat, I am not mad at you, you are just dumb."

Her jaw drops a bit, and she says, "I'm not stupid!"

I laugh when her subtle Russian accent comes out, (she's been hanging around Yelena way too much recently, but I like it) and say, "I called you dumb, not the same thing as stupid. Anyways, Y/n was crying because she likes both of us, and she is scared she is going to split us up because you don't like her."

She frowns and retorts, "but- I do like her?"

I glare and say, "I know that, but Y/n thinks you hate her because you are mean to her! You know she is a sensitive soul; you have to try a different approach than what you did with me."

The crease across her forehead never goes away, if anything, it gets bigger, "But I am only flirting with her, you know that is how I flirt."

I laugh and say, "Oh Natty, I knew you liked me because I can read minds, Y/n cannot do that, so she can't tell that you like her if you are a bitch to her, no offense."

She looks down and realization washes over her, so she says, "So what do I do? She barely talks to me anymore, and she definitely won't let me in her room right now."

I sigh and say, "you'll have to figure it out somehow."

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

idk pov (guys I can't- I seriously don't know right now)

It has been a few days since the day you locked yourself away from everyone, and you have been avoiding both of them since.

You have locked yourself up in your part of Tony's lab and you just can't bring yourself to face them. You also skipped movie night last night and everyone was trying to see if you are okay, but you just told FRIDAY to let them know you are fine.

You are tinkering with one of your suit pieces when you realize you need a tool that you don't have, but you know Tony has it on his work bench.

So, you walk over to his side of the lab and of course none other than the Natasha Romanoff is sitting at his bench looking for something. You sigh and contemplate waiting for her to leave, but you really need this tool, and you see it right on a shelf above his desk. So, you sigh and make you way quietly over to the desk, but while you reach out to grab it, Nat also reaches up for the same tool and you bump each other's hands.

Within the blink of an eye, three things happen; Nat and you bump hands, you end up hitting the shelf, and one of Tony's weird gadgets fall onto your wrists effectively locking around your wrists and binding you together.

You groan and Nat says, "Shit, I didn't see you."

You shake my head and turn away as much as you can, and you say "It's fine, I should have made my presence known."

She starts looking at the gadget and you take a second to examine it closer and say, "Oh. My. God."

Natasha furrows her eyebrows in confusion and says, "What is it?"

You groan and say, "These are the vibranium tondricuffs Tony has been working on."

She rolls her eyes when you don't explain and says, "And what does that mean? I might be a spy, but I don't know this sciencey shit you do."

You shake your head from the soft thoughts of her perfect lips and say, "Oh- uhh it is just what he calls them, but when I say he is working on them, it means that he hasn't figured them out yet and I don't think he knows how to unlock them."

Nat takes a deep breath and says, "So, you're telling me, that since Tony can't seem to put away his stupid toys, we are locked together for the foreseeable future?"

You sigh and nod your head, dropping it the second you feel heat rising to your face at the thought of all the things you might have to do with Nat. "Who do we tell? Isn't Tony on a mission?"

Nat groans even louder at the realization and says, "I guess we should go tell Wanda, and then she will help make a plan right?"

You bite your lip at the thought of facing her, and Nat sees your hesitation, "Hey, what's up with you lately? You always want to see Wanda."

You make brief eye contact with Nat and quickly look away until she puts her fingers to your chin and pulls you to look at her. She looks deep into your eyes and says, "You've been distant, ever since..."

You sigh and say, "Sorry, I guess I don't like when people see me cry."

Nat furrows her eyebrows and says, "You're a terrible liar."

You look at her with shock and say, "I am not lying!"

She laughs and says, "Oh really?"

When you nod your head she smirks and says, "If you really didn't like when people see you cry, then why did you never shut us out before? You have cried in our arms before, and you have never done something like this."

You sigh and say, "Okay, well- maybe I have changed."

Nat rolls her eyes as you decide to continue your work on your suit, effectively dragging Nat along wherever you go, not that she minds. She keeps pressing even though you clearly want to drop the subject, "You're hiding something."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"No. I'm. Not."

"If you weren't hiding anything then why don't you tell me why you couldn't face me the other night? And why you can barely look at me today?"

This seems to break you, her constant nagging is really pissing you off and you just slam your tools on the work bench and say, "Alright fine! You really want to know why I have been avoiding you?"

She nods her head, "yes please do enlighten me."

You groan and turn to her completely and just blab everything, "Because! You clearly see that I like Wanda and you are mad so you have been really mean, which is understandable, because she is your girlfriend, but what you don't know is that I like both of you and I know you probably hate my guts even more than before, but I really needed to get that off of my chest and-"

Before you can let any more word vomit fall out of your mouth Natasha's lips are on yours in an instant. They shut you up really well.

Your eyes widen and you push her away as much as you can, given the fact that you're still handcuffed together.

"Nat what are you doing?!"

She looks at you, "Is that not what you wanted this whole time?"

"Well, yes, but what about Wanda?"

She realizes that you don't know that she and Wanda knew, "Oh! Right! Wanda knows you like her. And I knew I just didn't know how to flirt. I am apparently a really shitty flirt when I am being genuine. I can fake flirt, but when I have a real crush, I turn into an asshole. It worked for Wands, but I realized it didn't necessarily work for you huh?"

You shake your head with wide eyes. Still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that both of your crushes like you back. Before you can fall deeper into your thoughts, Nat asks, "Wanna continue what we were doing?"

All you can do is nod, but her lips are immediately locked on your own. The feeling burns but it burns so so good. You two continue to swap spit until you hear someone speak, "Am I interrupting something ladies?"

You both pull away and look to see Wanda standing in the doorway. You freeze, still unsure if she is okay with you kissing her girlfriend, and she starts to step towards the two of you.

Once she gets up really close to you, she gives you a soft look and walks by you to kiss Nat pulling away to say, "Hi baby."

They exchange some small talk, and you are really uncomfortable because you have no idea what to do. They are just acting like you're not there and that you and Nat weren't just kissing.

Then, they both turn to you and Wanda leans closer to you, "Tell me Natasha, was it your intention to keep this sweet thing from me?"

Your eyes widen as Nat shakes her head aggressively letting out a soft 'no'.

Who knew Natasha was a bottom... they even acted like she was the top around me. Impressive.

Wanda lifts your chin a bit to look at her and she smirks, "What is going on in that pretty little head of yours, y/n/n?"

You snap out of it and whine a bit, and Wanda smiles and says, "Do you want a kiss too?"

You nod your head.

"Words sweet one."

"Y-yes please."

She smiles and looks back at Natasha briefly saying, "This one has good manners. She knows her place well. We've known her for all this time and yet we're just finding this out. Oh, we're going to have so much fun with her Natty."

Nat nods her head, and Wanda turns back to you to say, "Now... about that kiss."

She leans in, and you meet her halfway to interlock her delicate lips together with yours. It is likes soft pillows meeting sparkling fireworks.

You get lost in the kiss and try to push a little more for a deeper one, but Wanda pulls away with a soft smirk. As much as you want to pout for losing contact with her, all you can do is send a dopey smile her way.

Wanda exchanges looks with Natasha and they both look back at you. Nat speaks first, "So, now that we have that out of the way, Wands and I were wondering if you wanted to be our girlfriend?"

Your eyes widen and Wanda speaks up a bit, "Don't feel pressured to give us an answer right now. We understand it's new, and you might be feeling overwhelmed, we just want to put the offer on the table."

Then she leans closer to you and speaks in a low tone, "Although we don't like to be kept waiting."

Her silky voice makes you blush a bit, but you clear your throat and say, "Date both of you? At the same time?"

They both nod their heads and you say, "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

They both smile as you kiss each of them multiple times.

Natasha sighs and says, "Alright, what do you want to do as our official girlfriend now?"

You smile and say, "As much as I would love to go watch movies to make up for the last two movie nights that I missed, I really would like to get this thing off."

You hold up both Natasha's and your connected arms up to show Wanda the tondricuffs.

Wanda's eyebrows raise, she's probably wondering what happened to get that locked onto you. Natasha sighs in defeat and says, "Oh, right... that." You softly grab Nat's hand.

Wanda is about to ask questions, but you cut in and say, "Ask questions later, find Tony now. Please."

Safe to say there was a lot to discuss, but it will all work out now that you have your girls.

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

A/N: I'm so terribly sorry for how long this took me to write... I genuinely thought it would be quick and easy, but college is kicking my ass, and I really didn't want to leave you with nothing. So, it's a little shitty, but it's something!

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