#I’m not here often and I don’t feel like scrolling you can tag me in things if you want it would help or use my tag for your content 💕

[spencerreidenjoyer]

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling. 

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose. 

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom. 

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute. 

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious. 

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach. 

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you. 

“Kiss me some more,” you coax. 

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure. 

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all. 

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you. 

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs. 

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs. 

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better. 

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day. 

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him. 

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else. 

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna…”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it. 

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently. 

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin. 

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement. 

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏:𝟒𝟓𝐩𝐦

“i told ya to stay at home,” rafe says, fingers gripping the steering wheel of his truck tightly, knuckles turning white before your eyes. you don’t look up at him—your moody gaze focusing out of the window instead, staring at the trees and the pavement instead of your boyfriend.

maybe you shouldn’t have complained so much. you know he’s right, because after all, you had begged to tag along with him for the day. normally rafe can hold his own—can refuse and let you down easy with a promise to come back later and spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want, which is more often than not just crashing at tannyhill and watching a movie. you inevitably fall asleep and stay the night, just like what had happened last night. 

and then this morning, clad just in rafe’s button-up and some socks, you pad up to him and look at him sweetly.

“no, no, you’re jus’ gonna start complainin’ the second you get bored-” 

“i won’t! no complaints here, none,” you had insisted, giving him your best pout and puppy eyes. 

“i have real shit to get done today, kid, important business-”

“i won’t say anything! you won’t even know i’m there, rafe-”

rafe had given in eventually—squeezing your cheeks together with his hand before you got in the passenger seat of his car, after opening the door for you.

“when you start complainin’, i’m gonna make you regret it. hm?” you had squeaked out an agreeing noise, quickly following up with a promise to stay quiet before climbing into your seat.

that had been hours ago. in that time, rafe had stopped at several houses, gone inside and spent time talking to other people—some you recognized, others not so much—and ended up here, with you waiting, your feet on his dash while he was inside with barry. the minutes were dragging into hours at this point, your entire body feeling tired and achy from the position. the air in the car felt a little suffocating and paired with the heat of the sun pouring through the windows, nothing you could do would make you feel comfortable.

rafe’s one rule had been not to get out of the car while he was inside. in your attempt to follow his instructions, you felt yourself getting more and more frustrated, a certain crankiness bubbling up inside you, making one of its rare appearances. 

you tried to scroll through your phone and play music—which failed immediately since there was no service out here. you tried to eat the candy you kept in his glovebox, but it was melted beyond the point of remaining edible. you tried, you really did, but just like rafe had predicted, you started complaining the second he got back in the truck.

“you think, what? that i say that shit for me? no, kid, i’m saying it for you, ‘cause i know you get fed up in the car when i’m fuckin’ busy tryna make some money, being fuckin’ proactive for us-”

“but i-”

“no excuses. i told you to stay home. you gonna get an attitude with me? huh?” 

“you’re not even-”

“shoulda tied your ass to the bed. that’s what i’ll do next time.”

it doesn’t take much longer for the tears to come to the surface, your face falling into that sad look that makes him mad at himself for even ever yelling at you. you cry silently like that until he parks at tannyhill, and when he looks at you, regret washes over him. your pretty makeup all messed up, body heaving with sobs, staring down at your feet because you felt too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“hey, hey,” he starts, a hand resting on your shoulder to get your attention. it moves deftly to your chin, titling your pretty, teary face up at him. “c’mon, don’t cry. it’s nothin’.” 

“you got mad,” you say, voice broken up with a sob, blubbering on. “i’m sorry, i am. i just hate being all alone here without you, it’s the worst-” 

“come on, kid.”

“jus’ wanted to hang out with you,” you sniffle. he runs a hand through his hair. he needs to get better at not getting frustrated with you just because he’s not used to your affection.

“i know, baby. we’re home now so get inside, hm?” you comply with his instructions, walking into tannyhill and heading towards the couch in the living room, like you always do when the two of you curl up to watch a movie.

“where you goin'?” he calls after you. you stop in your track, turning around to face rafe.

“i thought we’re hanging out? the living room?”

“and i said this morning that i would make you regret complainin’. so get your ass upstairs first, now.”

[whyse7vn]

MIN YOONGI & KIM SEOKJIN

NICER:

“You know….” Jin looks over to Yoongi he’s sprawled out on a black couch thats sits in middle of the room they’re both in mindlessly scrolling through his phone. “It’s almost time to renew our contracts”

“So?” Yoongi replies his full attention still being held by his phone.

“Well, don’t tell her” Yoongi pauses “I told you this but y/ns been kinda on the fence about it all”

“About renewing her contract?”

“About being in the group all together”

Yoongi’s phone falls flat to his chest. Jin bites back a smirk.

“What?”

“Again don’t tell her i told you this but she said being in the groups gotten a little suffocating that we all argue too much and tha—”

“Bullshit”

“I’m not joking you know she comes to me about stuff why would i lie?”

Yoongi pauses for a moment. Why would Seokjin his good friend of over 10 years lie to him?

There are many reasons actually like that one time he took that sandwich out the fridge that was clearly labelled “JINS DO NOT EAT” and ate it right in his face or that other time when he tripped Jin up during rehearsals for no reason at all or that time—

“Trust me she was like really serious about it and—”

Yeah Yoongi doesn’t believe him, not one bit.

“So why are you telling me this shouldn’t you go talk to Joon about this stuff?”

“You know how Namjoon is can’t say no to her like… ever she would be gone before we know it and i thought about bringing it up with Jungkook but you also know how he is..”

“What about Jimin? Hobi? The fucking company, why me?”

“It’s just ‘cuz she said- never mind it’s not important forget i mentioned this”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing… i just i- i don’t want you to think it’s your fault or anything”

“So it’s my fault”

Yoongi now sits fully up right on the couch he was once slouched on with his eyebrows furrowed and gaze locked on Jin.

Jin bites back another smirk.

“No! not at all she just said some… stuff don’t worry about it!”

“What did she say” It’s not a question anymore.

“Well just that maybe you could uh.. be nicer or something?”

“Nicer?” Yoongi is now fully stood up one fist clenched and a head full of questions.

“Me? …Nicer?”

“That’s what she said” Jin shrugs.

Yoongi knows he isn’t the best to his fellow members often rejecting their various displays of affection and saying somewhat mean things to them on occasion. Sure he might of ‘lovingly’ punched a few of them a couple times called them some unkind names but not you! well he did call you a bitch once … or twice but you knew he was joking right? And he says sorry… sometimes, so Yoongi’s not even that mean, not at all, like it’s tough love or whatever. Yoongi can be nice. Yoongi is nice.

Yoongi stares back at Jin.

“Do you… think i could be nicer?”

There’s a pause.

“Well…”

Oh. Ok maybe Yoongi isn’t as nice as he thought he was. But it wasn’t that bad.

“…just considering she wants to leave the group because of it…”

Right. It’s is that bad.

Yoongi’s gaze drops the floor momentarily. He notices his phone that once held his attention now resides ontop of the fluffy carpet beneath his feet, but that’s the least of his concern right now. He feels a little sick and a whole lot embarrassed.

“Did she uh say anything else… about me i mean” He looks everywhere but Jin another wave of embarrassment taking over him as the question leaves his mouth.

Jin cocks his head at Yoongi in clear amusement, Not that Yoongi could catch onto it anyways too caught up in his own mind at the moment.

“How about we discuss this over coffee my treat! I think there’s a way we can sort this all out”

—

part 2 HERE

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @blairebangtan @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos

[worldsewage]

🚧 I’m carny, (he/him, 19) but feel free to call me WorldSewage, World, Sewage, Gatored, any other iteration of it, as long as I know you’re talking about me. This is a side account!

Click read more and scroll to the ⚠️ section for a FAQ!

Some of my content WILL be suggestive. Please block #suggestive (or maybe even nsfw?) if you’re uncomfortable with this content! I can’t imagine that I’ll ever be drawing sexually explicit (exposed genitalia) nsfw content but block the tags NSFW just in case…

AU content will be rolled out slowly, I am not a very fast artist, but my ask box will always remain open, so feel free to ask questions (chances are it will be answered! Albeit slowly!)

I love my mutuals, do not be afraid to talk to me! I can’t promise I’ll be super chatty, but I want it to be known that I love a good conversation. I don’t know how to convey this so often I wind up drawing your characters.

If you bastards open up a white board, @ me! I want to join! (Joking)

Homerun Au / ABOUT ME / extra art / info under the cut! 📌

My agents:

Alligator : (she/her)

Saint : (they/them)

Valentine : (they/them) (and she/her? But sparingly, they’d prefer if you would begin with they/them, you can ease into she / her.)

July : (they/them)

My tags are formatted pretty clearly, but just in case:

Homerun au - pertains to all information / art that takes place in this au, my agents are all designed to fit into this au— BUT, can be viewed as canon compliant if you want :]

Most of my character tags are formatted like “Name ( thing they are )” — (examples: “saint (Neo 3) , fido (oc) , carny (sona) , valentine (agent 8) )

Carnying - off topic posts , I don’t usually vent publicly , but most of my rambling will probably be under this tag. I also tag off topic (ie non splatoon asks) with carnying at times.

EMERGENCY EXIT - name of my Splatoon Idol ocs, I still tag their names, but this is the name of the group.

My art - is my art tag… I usually always tag the characters featured in my art.

Doodles - a not very often used tag… I use it for WIPs or joke drawings sometimes? I forget this tag exists frequently … I do use it for WIPS.

Salmonids/Octarians/Inkling tags - usually for world building or headcannons…!

⚠️ I draw on JSPAINT or on Procreate: I use primarily custom brushes.

⚠️ catch me on my Main account— @gatored , and for warrior cats content: @rendside

⚠️ here’s my artfight to those who are interested! https://artfight.net/~Gatored

⚠️ I don’t currently have a toyhouse, when I make one, I’ll link it here!

⚠️ I do not take commissions (currently.)

⚠️ I don’t know how I pick colors, I just do. I would like to make a tutorial some say, but I have no idea what I’m doing!

⚠️ art requests are ok! I’m willing to do art trades, but as of right now, I am unavailable:)

⚠️ I’m okay with fan art! Please just don’t be weird! I’m okay with oc interaction fanart but only with my splatoon ocs!!

⚠️ Please mind the ages of my characters, any inappropriate comments made towards characters who are children / depicted as children (ie. Characters who are 18+ but in the post are under age) will be killed.

⚠️ He/Him. Refrain from using “they” to the best of your ability… I’m 19– January birthday, year of the rooster. I’m the guy who draws the bipedal salmonids.

⚠️ I work in the kitchen and get paid minimum wage and I love my job and life to bits, I am not a “professional” artist, but I work quite a bit, so my drawing time isn’t very long.

⚠️ I don’t believe DNIs work, but let it be known AI / transphobes / unsolicited critiques will be blocked. I abuse the block button, at times.

⚠️ feel free to tag me! I don’t mind! If you have questions Asks are the best way! I don’t respond often to Direct Messages.

⚠️ you are required to compare my art to various foods. (Joke. but I will smile big if you do this)

——

🥩— I can’t promise I’ll update the below as of posting this (3/6/23) so please check out the “HOMERUN AU” tag for all information, but here are some quick links for those interested!

I know this au MAY seem a tad confusing, but I’m updating it as I go!

Homerun World Building: X — X

SQUIDSISTERS X — Evil Callie + “MUD” — 🐙Octavio

DEEPCUT: “Return of the Mammalians” (designs) (designs + small information) (bigman comic)

[anomaly-hivemind]

Collar ID || collaring w/Yuri Briar x Afab! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 1609

Tags: dom! reader, POC reader,flogging, latex, cock stepping, groveling, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, degradation, praise kink, squirting

I was sitting in bed, bonnet on snuggly , with a can of fruit in hand. Watching some random comedy horror that I found on netflix. It was only to pass the time while I waited for my boyfriend. It was around the usual time that Yuri would be on his way home if nothing came up. I scroll a bit on my phone when I get a notification from Yuri.

“Gonna be a bit late coming home, I got a bit of paperwork I want to finish. “ The message read and I let out an annoyed sigh. I don’t feel like waiting for him to finish work because I know that just means he's not going to get home until I was long asleep. I smile, as a mischievous idea comes to mind.

I take my oversized top off, my naked breast getting the blunt of the cold air from this bedroom. I lay on my stomach and posed so that my butt was in the view of my camera. I push my tits together and set my timer so I can take a photo. When the picture was taken I sent it to Yuri.

“Can't wait for you my pet, I miss you ;]” I sent the message right after the photo and waited.

Read.

Wow this was my breaking point. He couldn’t even dignify my unadulterated sexyness with a whiny emoji or anything!

I dropped my phone on the bed and went to my closet. I pushed past my regular clothes to where all my lingerie was. Silk was soft, coquette, not the vibe I was looking for. Lace? No, no it still had an air of delicacy.

Here, perfect. Latex. I hadn’t worn this set before. I smirk as I slip into the snug latex body suit. The suit hugged my curves tightly, had a boob window, the back out and the crotch exposed. If anything, it was a shame, I didn’t wear it as often. I sent Yuri another photo this time in my bodysuit.

“I don't appreciate you leaving me to read ):( ” I text him, and again get left on read but faster this time. What the hell is he doing?

A few minutes pass and the house opens and an out of breath boyfriend walks into the house. Yuri walks over to me with a desperate look on his face, his strong grip on my shoulders.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Yuri dropped to his knees and kissed me on my neck.

“I’ll only give you a light punishment since you came home earlier than normal.” I kept a straight face even if his kisses felt good.

“You're still gonna punish me… but I came home early.” yuri whined as he tried to give me the puppy dog eyes. Too bad for him that shit hardly works on me.

“Maybe if you beg for my entire forgiveness I'll let you go.” I smirk, my words were a set up and I'm sure he knows it. But that doesn’t matter, he was going to do what I said anyway.

Yuri dropped to his knees in front of me, he leaned down and placed a kiss on my foot. A smile grows on my face as he does, I stare at his cute butt. He looked out at me and I could see the lust in his eyes. I moved down to sit on our bed, he started to kiss up from the ankle to my upper calf.

“Strip.” I lean over to a drawer beside the and up out a dog collar, my eyes never leaving Yuri. I watch with a smile as he slowly takes off his uniform. I clip the collar around his neck, the cold dog tags make his skin shiver. He was shirtless and was making his way out his pants. He was hunched over in his boxers, his erection twitching and was practically begging for my attention. I pressed my foot against his crotch, giving his cock a light shove. He let out a little whine that made my cunt throb. I tilt his chin up so that he is looking up at me.

“So do you have something to tell me, pet?” I hold his face in place, squishing his cheeks slightly.

“I’m sorry….”

“For?” my toes pinch his balls and he tenses up, the dog tags of his collar jigging as he moves.

“Leaving you on read?” I nod.

“And” I ran my hand through his hair.

“Always co-coming home late.”

“Good boy, What do you think I should do now? Forgive you or pushish you?” my smirk grew a bit as i already knew what my little freak would say.

“My love, please forgive me, I want to taste you” he shuffled a bit closer, pushing my foot harder against his weeping dick. He whimpered from the pressure but I wasn’t going to cave. I could feel his dick growing harder under my foot and pressed my hut down harder.

“You would like that wouldn't you.” I adjusted the strap of my latex bodysuit, loosening the strings so I could move it better as I pleased. I put more pressure on his cloth cock practically stepping on him and he groaned.

“Please, my love…” Yuri moaned breathlessly.

“No. You won’t tempt me, you seducer, and I’m sick that you keep trying to get out of your punishments.

“But-“

“Hush, Pet, now bend over. I’ve had enough of this disrespect.

Yuri gulped hard, “Yes ma’am,”

Yuri walked over to the storage drawers in the closet and pulled out. A leather flog, I rubber by thumb over the braided handle of the flog I make sure to pull him fully out of his boxers.

“Baby, please.” he pouts and holds back a whimper.

“You better keep count or I'm going to start over, nut i guess I slut like you would like that.” I swing the flog over his asscheek.

“One…” Yuri made sure to say through his yelp. We repeat this fourteen other times before I'm somewhat satisfied to stop. Yuri had hot adorable tears threatening to drop down his face, it would almost make me feel bad if I hadn't known how much he enjoyed this.

He had his tell-tell signs; like how his dick was pretty much begging to cum or how he tried to hold back moans and groans with each solid impact I made on his body.

“Okay now if you can make me cum I’ll forgive your little behavior,” I said, placing one hand on my hip and the other soothingly rubbing Yuri‘s ass.

“Yes ma’am,” Yuri said, straightening up.

I laid back on the bed, spreading my legs open to expose my glistening pussy. Yuri inches closer, I could feel his breath on my folds.

“Go ahead, I know a loose man like yourself is dying without your fix,” I said and without hesitation Yuri dived in.

His tongue runs a slow stride to my clit, he was savoring the taste as he let out a pleased murmur. He was slurping up my juices like he didn't drink anything in months. Lapping up my arousal like he was on a mission and knowing my lover boy, he definitely sees this as such. He was a military man after all, working for the police and such.

But none of that was really important right now. I was too busy feeling the great action of Yuri sliding his fingers into my wetness. The way he curled his digits against my walls, made me fall back onto the bed and let out a moan. He alway knew how to get me going, how to push me closer and near to the edge. I could feel him smirk against my cunt and I pulled his hair in a quick yank that made him moan.

Yuri starts to focus more on my clit, making sharp circles on the nub, and long sucks that make my toes curl. His fingers thrusted onto my spot and I let out a short cry, he was going to make me cum any second now.

The feeling was winding up in my core, a coil ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re such a good slut, isn't that right?” I asked, running my fingers through Yuri’s hair. He hummed, against my muff the soft vibrations traveling through the mound of flesh..

As Yuri’s fingers stroked my g-spot and he sucked on my clit, something finally snapped. Warm fluid gushed from my pussy making a mess on Yuri’s face but like a good pet he lapped it up, and licked off what ran down my folds. My hips bucked from the sensitivity of having just cum, into the air and subsequently against Yuri’s face.

“Fuck. That was good.” I said breathlessly, my body sliding down so I was laying down more than sitting up.

“Does that mean all is forgiven… Ma’am” Yuri asked with his pathetic boy slut face.

“Fine, I forgive you now. But if you do that shit again I'll come up with a way harsher punishment. Understand. “ I said sternly even if I was a bit out of breath my point came across the way it was supposed to be and that's all that mattered.

“Yes ma'am.” he nods and licks his lips off my juices.

“Good now, come up here, I want to cuddle.” I pull him into a hug as soon as he gets close enough to fall into my grasp.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Burn Bright White - Chapter Five.

Thanks to my lovely Diana and Lindsey for their enthusiasm, as always <3

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,513

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don’t like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn’t tolerated here. At all. Remember, it’s fiction, not a documentary ;) It’s also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

After returning to the bar, she headed inside to wash the blood from her hands and tidy herself a little, buying another round. Sitting there, still buzzing from her altercation, it was violence they found themselves discussing firstly. She firstly learned he had a background in martial arts, but the way he delivered answers to some of her questions, well, it was certainly unique. 

He was, at times, the conversational equivalent of a broken sat nav; he could never get from point A to B without several detours, more often than not never even arriving at point B at all. Of course, she’d witnessed that in him, watching him being interviewed, knowing it was a mixture likely borne of his desire to be vague when it suited him, and surprisingly candid when it didn’t.  

“I have my father to thank for my temperamental streak,” she began, lighting a cigarette and knocking the pack across the table to him. “He always said to me, ‘Tai, you were blessed with your mother’s looks, but cursed with her small stature. But it is no matter. I will show how to be tiny, yet mighty’, and he did.” 

Niklas had indeed noticed that it was only her choice of footwear that made her tall, Taissa continuing. “He taught me how to shoot, wield knives and bare-knuckle fight. Well, when he wasn’t in prison, that is. I went from the piss-weak, skinny little kid to the one turning over the playground bullies for the money and trinkets they’d stolen from other kids fairly quickly.”  

They had a paternal common ground, it seemed. “Prison is where my father remains. He’s... well. I’m my father’s son, let’s put it that way. Except he’s much worse than I am.”  

“I think I’m probably at the same level as hostile as my dad when antagonised, except I’m not a Nazi and he is, unfortunately. I still adore him, though, that aside. He looks menacing, too. Imagine Zakk Wylde with a shaved head, but over two metres tall and covered in Neo-Nazi tattoos, and you have my papa.  

“Some might call it perverse that my taste in men is somewhat similar. I like a tall guy with more hair on his face than his head, covered in ink.” She paused, reaching to drag her finger in a slow glide down his cheek. “What’s scary to some is sexy fucking beast to me.”  

Turning his head, he bit her finger, sucking it into his mouth, Taissa’s eyes narrowing at him although a smile danced upon her lips. “What did I tell you about biting me, Kvarforth?” 

Releasing her finger, he looked mildly incredulous, reaching beneath her hair to stroke the purple bite at the side of her neck. “Bit late for that, isn’t it?”  

It jolted through her, the memory of his groan when he’d bitten her, the feel of his cock flooding her with cum as he’d pounded her against the hallway wall. The air seemed to crackle as they stared at one another, both in silent challenge of the other to look away first. 

“Did you say your apartment is two minutes away?”  

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as desire began to lap in waves through her, remembering the heat of it, having him all over her. It didn’t help matters when his fingers began to glide across her neck, the touch chasing a herd of goose pimples over her skin. “Shall we go now?” 

He looked thoughtful for a moment, standing slowly. “No. I think I’ll make you wait for it a little longer first.” 

Bastard. That wasn’t to say she’d take it lying down, though. Well, eventually she would.  

“So, tell me. Why did you choose your career path, lucrative payoff aside?” he asked after returning from the bar, placing the bottle of Never Say Die bourbon he’d been requesting down on the table. There was just under a third left, and so as not to have to suffer being inside the bar any more than he absolutely had to, he’d talked the barmaid into selling him what remained.  

“I enjoy having that power over somebody. I have what they need, and I get to profit off of that. Much like you, I am not a people person, beyond what they can do for me. I live a very good life from their addiction, their weakness. This will never cease being thrilling to me.”  

Brutal honesty. He respected that. Seldom few were the same. 

“Before I started buying from your brother,” he began, Taissa rapidly shaking her head. 

“Me. You buy from me. I stand at the helm,” she interrupted. 

“From you,” he continued, “I used to buy from a man named Stefan. I think he was probably one of the most fantastically dark individuals I have ever known. He used to have one hell of a kink, engineering it so junkies would overdose and masturbating as he witnessed them die. I went with him once, but she didn’t fucking die. Shame, I’d have liked to witness that.” 

Taissa knew exactly what he was doing, seeing if he could force some kind of shock reaction from her. She gave none. “Did you hear how he died?” 

Curiosity piqued within him. “He’s dead? I assumed he’d been arrested when I could no longer reach him. That was usually the way when he went quiet.” 

“No, he did a Michael Hutchence. Died by autoerotic asphyxiation. He was found hanging in his bedroom, cock still hard, with a twelve-inch dildo suctioned onto the floor beneath him.”  

Niklas couldn’t help but laugh at that. “This does not surprise me in the slightest. That man propositioned me multiple times.” 

Her eyebrow raised. “And did you?” 

“No, men don’t do it for me,” he revealed, sipping his drink. “I am alas a fucking slave to what you women have between your legs.”  

“Alas?” she questioned, kicking off her shoe beneath the table, beginning to slowly slide her foot up his inner thigh. “Why is that?” 

“Because you are all cunning, terrible creatures.” His eyes flitted down, seeing her red-painted toes press into his crotch. “Case in point.”  

“Guilty as charged,” she shrugged, beginning to massage his cock with the ball of her foot. “But you like it.”  

Her assertion was correct, but he didn’t confirm, shifting in his seat a little as he felt himself beginning to harden. Fuck, this woman. Tempress didn’t cut it.  

Just then, the sound of gears being furiously crunched attracted their attention, both turning to see a car haphazardly shuddering up the street. At the same time, they shouted the exact same words. 

“Put it in H!” 

Niklas’s eyes snapped to her in an instant. A Simpsons fan. He rarely met them these days, it seemed. “So, not only can she quote The Simpsons, but she can recall the most obscure quotes, too. Interesting.” 

Taissa pointed to the car, the driver of which continuing to struggle. “She’ll go three hundred hectares on a single tank of kerosene.”  

He couldn’t help but begin laughing. Her impersonation of the Crazy Vaclav character was utterly perfect. “What country is this car from?” 

“It no longer exists.” They both fell into soft laughter at that, their little skit from the cartoon having them both feeling entertained.  

“I remember the first episode I ever saw, with Homer repeatedly falling down the cliff,” she reminisced, snorting with laughter. “I was about five, I think. My mother thought I was warped to find it so funny, but it’s the funniest moment for certain,” she spoke, Niklas yanking her foot away from his crotch and resting it on his thigh instead, idly playing with her toes.  

He clicked his fingers, pointing at her. “Agreed.” It was a strange juxtapose, two people who so revelled in the darker, more criminal side of life, both having an affinity for the iconic, light-hearted cartoon. “A close second is him losing it in episode based on The Shining. No TV and no beer make Homer go crazy.” 

She beamed, obliging him in continuation. “Don’t mind if I do!” Her enactment of Homer indeed going crazy had him booming with laughter, people turning to stare. It was utterly ridiculous, the black metal musician and the drug dealer, broken from the veneer of hardness surrounding them, as well as their mental and sexual teasing by the reciting of a kid’s cartoon.  

He topped up their glasses with the last of the bourbon, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, offering her one, too. All while his other hand preoccupied itself with her foot. 

“How are you enjoying my toes?” 

Looking down at the dainty foot, he then stared at her intently. “I’ll be enjoying them much more when they’re in my mouth.”  

Oooh, the wink he followed those words with. Her pussy clenched in an instant. “Got a thing for feet, hmm?” 

A thing was putting it mildly. “You could say that. Feet, feet in high heels, in nylons. Legs in nylons. My fetishes are well-documented.” Running his index finger down the centre of her foot, he rotated it a few times before returning it to tickle over her toes. “What are your fetishes?” 

“Money and power.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I meant sexual, and you know that I did.” 

“Who said money and power can’t be sexual?” Watching him, she knew from his lowered gaze, the expectance in his eyes, that he wouldn’t accept that. Well, if there was ever a time to tease a little more... “Having the weight of a man on me, feeling pinned, being held down. I’m boss in every aspect of my life, and I rarely deviate in the bedroom. Sometimes, though, I like to submit.”  

She certainly had when he’d picked her up and fucked her against his hallway wall. Then again, with the sexual force of nature that was Niklas, she’d had little choice.  

The information shared was met by a look of appreciation, his glass lifted, the contents sunk in one gulp. “Drink up, and I can make that happen for you.” 

Pulling her foot from his grasp, she slid it in a slow glide down his leg, looking out from beneath her long lashes at him. Picking up the glass, she made a show of licking her lips before tipping the warming bourbon down her throat, slipping her foot back into her shoe. “Let’s go.”  

Time seemed to move slowly as they walked to the end of the row, turning the corner, Taissa keying in her code on the front door. It felt like a storm brewing, the heat gathering thickly as they stepped into the elevator, heading three floors up, the air becoming heavy, glances stolen, the anticipation creeping over them like a fog.  

Putting the key in her door, she felt him sweep her hair from her neck, teeth biting down, the pin pricks of pain melting like icicles trickling down her spine, turning to pull him to her level and kiss him with ferocity. He herded her backwards, lifting her with ease, the open plan of the large space meaning he didn’t need to inquire over bedroom location. Clothes were shed en route, their bodies hitting the bed, mouths locked together as he pinned her beneath his weight, taking her wrists in an encircled grip and pressing them either side of her head.  

“How’s that?”  

How was that? Enough to feel the petals of her cunt begin to become slick for him, Taissa transfixed at watching the blue of his eyes almost eclipsed entirely by rapidly inking pupils. “Amazing, but it can wait.” Pulling from the grip, she pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him off of her and back to his feet. “Right now, there’s not much I need more than your cock in my mouth.”  

He hummed a chuckle, raising an eyebrow as his hand tangled in her hair, giving it a short, sharp tug. “I’m not about to stop... that.”  

The pause between words couldn’t be helped, his breath hitching, watching himself vanish completely between her full lips. She kept him swallowed back, her mouth pulsing around the very base of his cock a few times, tongue flickering the underside before slowly gliding back up his shaft. Just that, and she already had him mindless. The feel of her nails scraping down his sides only added to it. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, chest shuddering, transfixed at the sight, his hand tightening in her hair again sharply. “You look even prettier, choking on my cock.” 

Pushing further into her throat, he triggered her gag reflex, Taissa releasing him to spit on his shaft, pumping it with her hand thereafter, tongue gliding over the tip. It made lightning begin to flicker at the base of his spine, roughly forcing himself back between her lips again, grunting quietly when her fingers began to pinch and twist at one of his nipples.  

“Oh, even though it’s a little late, you’d better not fucking have herpes or anything else nasty. I’ll fucking cut your balls off if you do,” she spoke, sucking the head of his cock, Niklas laughing through his nose. He didn’t doubt she would. 

“Surprisingly, I actually don’t. I got forced into an STI test recently, so I know I’m fine.” 

She paused, her eyebrow fluttering. “Forced?” 

“Mm,” he hummed, watching himself disappear in her mouth once more. “If you bareback two patients in the same mental facility as you within the space of forty-eight hours, they make you get tested.” 

“Animal,” she quipped, turning her head to bite the side of his hip. 

“I have a feeling that is exactly what you like about me.” He wasn’t wrong, Taissa returning her mouth to his cock and once again, making him vanish. Fuck, she was too good at sucking dick, Niklas feeling himself beginning to ascend quite rapidly, fingers weaving tighter in her hair as he began to fuck her mouth, his chest starting to rise and fall more rapidly.  

Feeling him becoming firmer within her mouth gave her the most delicious little shocks of excitement, becoming dewier at her apex, imagining how it would soon feel to have him inside her, her arousal glowing like moonbeams through the very depths of her.  

That gathered excitement spurred her mouth quicker upon him, her tongue teases becoming more potent, Niklas’s hand still clutched hard upon her hair. His gravelly groans became more frequent, her lips tightening, oh, so tight around him, pleasure skittering over his tremble-wracked body.   

The embers began to crackle, glowing, ever nearing bursting into flame, Taissa sensing it, speeding her mouth up until she felt him pulsing between her lips, shooting his load onto her tongue with a guttural grunt as his hips swayed forward, swallowing back every last hot spurt. 

“Sufficiently ruined?” 

The look he gave her was all darkened lust, pushing her back on the bed, yanking her legs up and taking one of her feet, sucking her toes with a groan. “No. Trust me, though. You’re about to be.”  

She could barely wait. 

[jasntodds]

Caving In [3]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,023

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, hurt/comfort, a nightmare, flirting, fluff, jason and reader trauma-bonding, talks of abuse (it’s not super detailed), mentions of food being withheld, gar feels like his trauma isn’t “enough” (unrelated to the trauma-bonding), mentions of death, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of bruises

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: So, this is the chapter where I decided to change who the fic was about because I mean hi lol so this chapter is Jason heavy 😂 I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

The movie came to a close twenty minutes ago, Rachel already off to her room to get some sleep but Gar and Jason are still in the living room with you asleep. Gar doesn’t want to move you, he’s never been a big fan of waking people up when they’re asleep, especially when it’s obvious they haven’t slept very much. On top of that though, he’s not sure if waking you up would scare you and then you’d burn him or something. So, he figures it might be best to just let you sleep. Jason volunteered to hang out with him for a little bit anyway.

Jason looks over and his eyes just land on you. You look peaceful and kind of nice when you’re not being a snarky bitch to him. Though, he does kind of give as good as he gets not that he’d ever admit that of course. And maybe he likes that you actually have a bit of fire in your words when you talk to him. Gar and Rachel normally brush off his mean and sarcastic comments and Dick can never be bothered. You though, you play along and maybe he thinks it’s a little fun.

“Why are you staring at her, dude? It’s weird.” Gar looks away from his phone to look at Jason.

Jason shakes his head, grabbing his own phone to scroll through Twitter. “I wasn’t staring.” He mutters, his cheeks turning a bright red.

“Yeah, you were.” Gar insists. “Don’t make it weird, she’s nice and it’s cool to have someone new around.”

“I’m not making it fucking weird, man.” Jason sighs before he looks back over, glancing between Gar and you. “You gonna go for it though?” Jason raises his brows with the question, choosing to deflect.

Gar’s eyes narrow in disbelief. “I just said don’t make it weird.” Gar’s voice goes up an octave with his words. “She’s been here a day.”

Jason chuckles more to himself than at Gar. “I’m just trying to figure out the rules. You’re my friend and I don’t wanna overstep, man.” He has this grin that absolutely says he will overstep if not told otherwise.

Gar’s forehead wrinkles with Jason’s words and if it were anyone else, maybe he’d be surprised by how fast he wants this move but it’s Jason. The same guy who uses 420 and 69 (or both together) as passcodes so Gar can’t actually be too surprised. And Gar also knows that if he doesn’t answer Jason, Jason is going to do what he wants. He’s an asshole, sure, but he’s not a half-bad friend, actually.

“I don’t know.” Gar shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes. “I haven’t thought about it.”

Jason hums. “So, I can go for it then? If I want?” Jason asks and then quickly follows up with more. “Not that I do, I’m just asking.”

“Right.” Gar deadpans and you aren’t an article of clothing they’re swapping because it’s nice or something.

You’re a living breathing human being who has the right to make your own decisions. Of course, Gar knows that’s not what Jason is getting at during this or anything. He’s asking if he can flirt or try to actually get with you if you’re interested but it doesn’t make Gar feel any better. You’ve been here a day and maybe Gar just wants you to settle in before Jason jumps down your throat about it. And, to be completely fair, Gar does think you’re very pretty but he actually wants to take the time to get know you before he decides if he’d even be interested. He’s just here having fun learning to be a Titan.

“Maybe we just let her come to us if she’s interested.” Gar proposes, a partial way to get Jason to drop it. “After, she actually gets settled.”

“Hey,” Jason defends himself, but his voice is still quieter than it normally is. “It’s just a question, she seemed to be comfortable around you is all.” Jason glances to you once more before going back to his phone. “Obviously.”

“Can we drop this? She is right here.” Gar slightly shifts in his seat, not enough to wake up you.

“She’s asleep.” Jason scoffs before looking back at Gar who just looks annoyed. “Alright, damn chill out. I’ll leave her alone for a while.”

Gar nods, not having anything else to add on the topic and Jason drops it. The boys go back to their phones and have some conversation here and there about Twitter threads and TikToks they find. Nothing substantial really comes from any of it but both of them enjoy the time. Gar actually likes hanging out with Jason like this, he hasn’t had a best friend in a long time and this feels normal to him. Turning into a tiger usually makes him feel a little freakish, especially after spending so much time at Doom Manor where they were pretty much described as freaks. It was hurtful, he just wants to be normal and having movie nights with Jason and Rachel feels normal.

It doesn’t matter how much trauma any of them have when there’s a movie on and they’re just hanging out. It’s just them and when it’s him and Jason, that’s all there is. Normalcy. Even with you, a new girl, sleeping on him. In a way, it even feels a little comforting with you laying your head on him because he’s not a scary tiger. He’s just a boy.

After another half hour, Jason leaves Gar to head to the training room. Gar tried to convince him to go to bed but Jason doesn’t listen to anyone so now it’s just Gar and you. He’s getting tired himself and he’s heavily debating on waking you up so he can go in his own bed. But, the debate doesn’t last long because suddenly, you shoot off of his shoulder, heaving for air. You sit forward, eyes wide as Gar slightly jerks away from you as a reflex.

“Are…are you okay?” He asks, leaning back over and forward to get a look at your face.

You suck in a breath, your chest heaving with every breath and your heart pounding. You barely even comprehend you’re still in the living room when Gar asks you the question. All you can do is nod and try to breathe. This is really going to be your life now? Tortured in reality by a psychopath and now tortured in a dream state by the same fucking psychopath? How the fuck is that fair? You finally escaped only to be haunted by your dreams in a place you actually kind of, sort of, feel safe in.

“Nightmare?” Gar asks, not moving from his position.

You turn your head to the right to look over your shoulder back at Gar. “Y-yeah.” You nod softly before looking forward, shaking your head. “Sorry.”

Gar’s brows furrow. “For what?”

“Uh…” No one’s asked you what you’re sorry for before. You’re always supposed to be sorry for either getting angry or upset or having a smart-ass comment. There’s always something you’re supposed to apologize for. “Falling asleep, falling asleep on you….” You pause. “Nightmare.”

“You,” Gar leans forward some more, a little closer to you to try and offer you comfort in the only way he knows how. “You don’t have to be sorry for any of that. It’s okay.”

You glance over at him and the way he looks at you make you feel like porcelain. Fragile and weak. It’s not a feeling you like very much. But his eyes are warm and kind, so kind that they make you want to tell him your whole life story without ever coming up for a breath of fresh air. And it makes you feel warm.

“Do you wanna talk about it? Sometimes it helps.” Gar offers with a welcoming but small smile.

You look over to him again, your eyes dodging his this time. You can feel the flame in your belly flickering, it wants to go out so bad. It’s been wanting to go out the last few months, the last few months you were held. At the beginning, it was bonfire in your stomach. The second even a drop of gasoline were to land, it would all blow. But the gasoline never dripped or spilled. It sat in the corner and taunted you and the flame died down. And you’re so tired of it.

You want the fight back and maybe talking about it would help you feel better but you don’t want to feel better. You want to be pissed and angry and furious and you want the fucking fire back so you can hunt the bastard down yourself. But then you look at Gar again and he’s soft. It’s like you’re this tea light and he’s a glass lamp over you. Not burning out the flame but keeping it going just enough to function.

“Um…” You pause, leaning back against the couch. “It’s just….uh…i-it’s like I’m back there again.” You admit. “A-and he-he’s right there.” You stutter while Gar watches. “J-just f-fucking taunting me, k-knowing I-I can’t do anything. Fuck.” You swallow hard, not even realizing you were practically holding your breath.

Gar turns in his spot so he can better face you, never moving away from you. “What happened?” Gar asks calmly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Gar adds on, never wanting you to feel pressured about it.

You hang your head, then shake it. He’s going to give you the look. The pitiful look you got when your mom died. It’s the same look everyone always gives, you’re guilty of giving the look, too but it makes you shift and it make you feel uneasy. You get it, feeling bad for people who experience trauma. It’s natural but you don’t find it comforting and maybe you would find it easier if he had something snarky to say. Make it easier with humor, it’s what you do anyway.

“W-what’s the worst thing you’ve heard someone go through?” You ask, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands.

Gar sighs, thinking about it but he didn’t think very long before he starts talking, thinking maybe if you know what he’s seen and heard, it’ll make you trust him enough to talk to him. “Rachel, probably.” He answers honestly. “Her mom, who wasn’t her real mom, was shot in front of her. Then, she was locked away,” Gar says. “Only for a few hours but locked away for her powers.” He adds in. “Then,” He pauses and your brows go up in surprise. “We found her real mom who convinced her to bring in her demon dad to save my life. He possessed all of our friends and then got them to almost beat me to death in front of her.” Gar lists, reliving all of it in quick images. “Trigon,” You look at him quizzically. “Demon dad.” Gar clarifies. “Killed her real mom and then Rachel killed him.”

You sit there for a second and you really thought you had it bad. Of course, what you went through was still terrible but you do not want to play trauma Olympics with Rachel that’s for damn sure. But, Rachel seems okay, weirdly enough. You aren’t sure how long ago all of that was but Rachel does seem okay and even happy which gives you the one thing you haven’t had in months. Hope.

“Well…okay.” You nod slowly, taking in the information.

“Oh!” Gar says, remembering to add more. “We were also being chased by people who were trying to kill her because of her powers.” Gar lets out a breath, his nonchalant add-in almost makes you laugh. What the fuck?

You blink a few times. “I….I don’t even know what to say to all of that.”

“Yeah,” Gar chuckles softly. “It was pretty crazy.”

“No fucking shit.” You laugh softly. “That’s fucked up.”

Gar nods. “Yeah, but she’s okay now.” Gar assures you.

“She seems to like it. This place help?” Your eyes glance to your hands and then back to Gar.

Gar nods once more. “Yeah,” He shrugs a shoulder. “I think it does.”

It’s helped him a little bit. But, he doesn’t think his trauma is worth talking about. It’s not as bad as Rachel’s or yours. It was a disease, sure his was different, but it was a disease and people get diseases all the time. Some people live and some people die because that’s how it works. He turns into a green tiger but is that really trauma? In the grand scheme of the conversation? Gar doesn't really think so. So, he keeps the idea of the Tower and the people helping him cope to himself.

“I-it was just…hell.” You suck in a breath, deciding to tell him a little bit. “I was there for a while and this,” You gesture over your face. “Was pretty normal.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “I-I, uh, I-I thought he was gonna…kill me for a while.” You swallow. “I think he wanted to.”

“I’m sorry.” Gar’s brows knit together with sympathy and there’s the look.

You can’t handle the look, not from him. Clearly, he’s seen and heard a lot but now maybe you don’t want to burden him with your shit. He’s been through his own and clearly knows Rachel’s, you can only assume he knows some of Jason’s shit, whatever it is. To you, Gar seems like the person everyone goes to with their problems and you don’t want to stick that burden on him. Not with eyes as caring and gentle as his. It breaks your heart to even be sitting here telling him anything. So, you quit.

“Um…” You shake your head “I’m sorry, I don’t wanna talk about it.” You shut down and Gar just nods.

“It’s okay.” Gar assures you as you get up from the couch.

“I’m…I’m gonna walk.” You fake a smile at him. “Clear my head. Thanks for letting me sleep, Gar.”

“If you need to talk, you can talk to me.” Gar stands up with you, worried he overstepped. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No.” You cut him off quickly. “You didn’t…it’s not like that. I….just. It’s so fucking fresh and you….” You suck your teeth, brows furrowing together as if you’re in pain. “You make me feel normal and I don’t wanna ruin that.” You divert your eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry…thank you.” You look back up at him before turning on your heels and head into the left hallway, disappearing into the shadows.

Gar watches you disappear, kicking himself. He thinks he made it worse. He’s just trying to be there for you but he’s slowly figuring out that that’s not something you want. Not in the talking about-it way, anyway. It’s like you just want to be distracted from it all which Gar can’t blame you for. He can only really imagine what happened from his and Jason’s little bit of research and what information you did give him. His heart aches for you but he’ll never push you to tell him anything. Instead, he goes to his room but he leaves the door cracked just in case you change your mind.

You find yourself wandering the halls until you reach the training room. There you find Jason back at the punching bag. You pull out the phone Dick gave you earlier today and it’s three in the morning. Suddenly, you feel even worse about falling asleep on Gar given how late it is. But, you choose not to focus on the guilt in your stomach and instead on Jason. You stand in the doorway, confused why he would train at this hour. Is he insane?

“Do you ever stop training?” You ask, arms crossed as you’re leaning against one of the sliding doors.

Jason jumps, spinning around quickly. “Fuck, how long have you been standing there?” Jason almost yells at you.

You snicker with a shrug. “Few seconds.”

“What do you want?” He asks and he’s as snarky as ever which makes you happy. It’s like he treats you normally. Not that the others don’t but you can tell it’s like they’re tip-toeing but Jason doesn’t.

You walk in just a few feet, looking around before looking back at Jason. “Was just walking around.”

“That’s fucking weird.”

Jason didn’t expect to see you for the rest of the night. He kind of figured if you woke up, you’d just go to your room, not walk around. Or maybe, you’d be with Gar but you’re here in the training room with him. And maybe despite the snarkiness, he wants you to stay. Maybe the comments will make you want to stay, for entertainment. You seem to like the challenge.

“You’re the one punching a bag at three in the fucking morning. You’re being weird, dude.” You snark with the raise of your brows and Jason deadpans before returning to the bag.

You watch him a little longer and this is your opportunity to ask him to help you. No one else is here and you can only assume Gar went to bed so it’s just you two. He’s clearly dedicated so maybe he’ll want to help anyway. If not, you figure you’ll just hold the little bet over his head.

You close the distance, walking over toward the punching bag. “You’re so….”

“Charming?” Jason glances at you as he punches the bag. “Amazing?” He punches again. “Hot?” He flashes a cocky grin and you sigh.

“I was gonna say snippy, actually.”

“You’re fucking annoying you know that?” Jason snarks.

“Mmm.” You click your tongue a grin pulling at your lips as you point a finger at him. “There it is.”

“Seriously, what do you want?” Jason stops, facing you with annoyance.

“Train me, Dick said I’m not ready.” You hold your head up, crossing your arms across your chest.

Jason pauses, the question catching him off guard. You don’t actually look like you’re in any condition to train, not that Jason really ever agrees with Dick. Bruce doesn’t think he should be Robin but Jason knows he’s ready to get back to it so in a way, Jason understands why you’re asking. Feeling ready, but the adults want to think they know what’s best. It’s shitty. But Jason likes a good fight.

“What happened to you?” The snarkiness leaves his voice as he nods his head up at you and you’re taken aback. Jason, not asking a snarky question? Now, that’s weird.

“Why do you wanna know?” Your voice is level, eyes slight narrowed.

Jason pauses. He’s actually just curious. He knows his motive for wanting to train harder and better and faster than everyone else but what’s yours? Unless yours is going after whoever did whatever it was to you. But now you have powers so you could just take them out with those. You don’t need the combat, really. Jason just wants to know and maybe he has a little more stake in it. He does care about it, even though he acts like he doesn’t. He’s not completely heartless. Plus, maybe it’ll give him bonus points.

“Curious.” Jason shrugs, eyes glancing from your socks to your face.

“You just wanna see all the trauma?” You raise and Jason shrugs, his brows raising quickly as if to be saying ‘why not’ and his nonchalant attitude with the mix of snark gives you enough reason to challenge him a little but take the risk in having to spill. You take a few steps towards him. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You close the small distance between you standing just an inch away from him. Jason’s breath hitches in his throat for just a second as he looks to you. The look in your eyes sends a shiver down his spine and he’s ready to play the game.

“Asked you first.” Jason doesn’t move from his stance, instead he holds still, looking at you with his eyes locked on yours and he sees a grin coming to your face.

“Alright,” You take one step back. “But don’t make it all emotional or some shit.” You plop down on the floor in front of him, sitting with your legs crossed, Jason taking a breath finally.

He said he wouldn’t. He told Gar he’d leave you alone for a little while but what is he supposed to do when you initiate it? Jason is not gonna back down from that. And, he thinks it’s fun. You play the game and lean into the challenge instead of backing away. It’s only when Jason goes to play, too that you switch it up like a game of cat and mouse. It’s thrilling a little.

Jason chuckles but follows your lead. “You always sit on the floor?”

“You always in here?” You quip.

“Shut up.” Jason shakes his head but a smile still tugs at his lips. “So, spill your guts.”

“It’s not getting that deep, bud.” You scoff but match the smile.

This is what you were thinking when talking to Gar. Gar makes it feel vulnerable, talking about it. That’s not how you want to feel about it. You want to feel strong and fiery. It’s not Gar’s fault, you can tell it’s because he just really, truly cares and feels bad about whatever it is. But, Jason, it’s like he cares but only out of curiosity not because he’s trying to save you or help you.

“Mom was killed by the Joker,” You start, gauging Jason’s face as you talk. “Dad’s a meth addict, a great parental figure obviously.” You say sarcastically. “Went into foster care, Jerry.” You grimace with his name and you try to dodge the feeling of agony and fear when you say his name. “Was my foster dad if you can even call him that.” You scoff. “He wanted to make superhumans. He used me as a test subject, I think for himself to see if anything would work. I had so many things injected I lost count over the year. He kept me chained in a basement and because none of that was quite bad enough, the fucker decided to beat me, too when I didn’t show signs of powers. He’d withhold food, all that shit. I survived mostly off of chicken noodle soup. He beat me so bad, I guess he thought I was dead and dumped in an alley and now I’m here.” You keep your voice nonchalant and steady, listing off your past like some recap of a sitcom.

Jason keeps his eyes on you and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s rare to get him speechless but here he is, without a single word in his head. How is he even supposed to respond to that? It just sounds terrible and horrifying.

“How long did he keep you like that?” He settles on the question, knowing talking about the events in Gotham is a sore spot for him.

“A year, I think. Lost track a bit.” You answer with a shrug, silently begging him to have something snarky or sarcastic to say because now it’s all too real and you wish you could turn back the clock and not say anything.

“That’s fucked up. He’d just experiment on you and fucked you up cause he could?” Jason asks as if not really believe what he’s hearing. People are terrible.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“Fuck that guy, he’s a piece of fucking shit, alright?" There’s a fury in his voice this time and it makes you smile just a little bit. He’s not sorry, he just thinks Jerry is a shitty person.

“No shit.” You huff.

“It worked though, he gave you powers. Why the fuck wouldn’t you have used them?” Jason’s expression changes to confusion. “I’m not blaming you.” Jason defends his words, feeling like it might have come off a bit like victim blaming. “I’m just curious.”

“I was afraid he’d kill me knowing that it worked. I…uh, I learned how to stay calm when he’d come at me so I pissed him off really bad a few days ago. The calmer I was, the more angry he’d get.”

“You got him to do that to you on purpose?” Jason practically yells.

He’s not sure what he expected, really. He kind of just thought it got too bad one day. It lead you to that alley. He didn’t think you actually got someone to do that to you.

You nod, a feeling of shame taking over. “I couldn’t escape any other way. I knew if I could piss him off really really bad, he’d come at me like never before. I could pretend like he killed me or put me into a coma, caused a massive brain bleed, ya know? Something, he would dump me somewhere. It was that or he was gonna kill anyway.” You pause. “Backfired a little, he did come back and I guess thought throwing a few more punches would wake me up.”

“You just played dead the whole time?” There’s a pain in Jason’s voice and he thought this could turn into something of fun, quick-witted jokey conversation but he just feels like you kicked off a cliff. 

“Oh, no, I was actually knocked unconscious most of the time while all of it was going on.” You nod casually.

“Fuck.” Jason lets out a breath before continuing. “That’s kind of badass though.” Jason states giving you a grin, you shaking your head and jerking backward in confusion. “You just took him beating the fuck outta you. That’s fucking crazy.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah, dude’s got a hell of an arm and a kick, a-fucking-parently.” Jason’s brows raise as if to be asking for context. “Found more bruises when I showed today, got a nice boot print on my back.” A scoff leaves the back of your throat.

“Fuck that guy, alright?” Jason says, growing angry at the conversation. Who does that to someone for no reason? He kicks ass every night in Gotham as Robin but those people deserve it. What did you ever do to this guy who was supposed to protect you and keep you safe? It’s not right. “He’s a piece of shit and you didn’t deserve that shit. I'll hunt the monster down for you if I have to.”

You furrow your brows. “That’s a kind offer.”

“I’m fucking Robin!” Jason tosses his hands out, gesturing into his chest and outward again. “It’s my job to hunt those dickweeds down!”

You let out a genuine laugh. He is pretty funny actually and he’s not the Robin that let the Joker kill your mom. You actually think Jason would kill the bad guys if he were allowed to. “Mhm.” You hum. “Which is why you’re the best Robin.”

“You think so?” Jason asks, the joy in his voice makes you giggle. “I know I am but Dick and Bruce...” He pauses for a second. “They don’t think so.”

“Well, Dick and Bruce don’t know shit.” You hold your head up high, and you truly think Jason is the better Robin. You’ve seen the YouTube videos.

“Thanks.” Jason offers a sincere smile. “That why you wanna train? Hunt him down yourself kind of deal?”

“Yeah, if I ever see the piece of shit I don’t wanna give him the satisfaction of knowing it worked. I wanna beat the fuck with my bare fucking hands like he did to me.” There it is, the fire you’ve been looking for. You want him to suffer at your own hands. No one else, just you and him and you want to watch everything he worked for crash around him. You want him to be bloody and bruised and beaten like you have been for a year.

“Good, he fucking deserves it. Dick will probably hunt him down if you tell him.” Jason informs you. “He used to be a detective and he worked a lot of cases with shitty parents. I think he went out as Robin and kicked their asses.”

You smile. “Good, people who beat kids deserve what’s coming.” You laugh softly, stretching your legs out beside Jason’s and leaning back on your hands. “Your turn.”

Jason nods, pulling the leg furthest from you up so his foot is on the floor and his knee is bent while he leans back on his hands. “Dad was killed by Two-Face, mom’s a smack addict, uncle drank himself to death.” Jason rambles off as if it were nothing and your eyes squint for just a second. You’re nonchalant because it’s easier that way. Is it easier for him to be like this, too? “Gotham, right?” Jason scoffs, looks down and away from you.

“Special kind of fucked up there.” You say, not looking away from him. “I’m really sorry.” You say, your heart aching for him, something you didn’t really expect given the banter between you. “How’d you get here then?” You ask, instead of asking for details about those he lost knowing you don’t like to talk about it and assuming he probably doesn’t either.

“Caught stealing the hubcaps off the Batmobile.” Jason chuckles, his cocky grin back on his face as he looks to you, clearly proud of himself. He expects you to be impressed with his courage to steal from Batman of all people. But that’s not what your face is telling him.

Your eyes narrow and then you look up before squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Hubcaps.” Your voice is exasperated, eyes closed before looking back at him. “Fuck.”

Jason laughs, knowing what the expression is now. “What? You robbing cars?” He shakes his head. “Nah, you gotta get the hubcaps, more likely to get money from that. Less likely to get caught, too.”

“Fuck you. You got caught, too!” You glare at him.

“Because it was the fucking Batmobile.” Jason tilts his head back with a laugh. “He didn’t wanna press charges, instead, he took me in.”

“Oh, to have been so lucky.” You snark with the roll of your eyes.

“Yeah…” Jason sucks in a breath. “Sorry.”

“Nah,” You scoff with a smile. “I wish I would have been smart enough to rob the Batmobile!”

“Everyone says it was dumb.” Jason scoffs.

Bruce said it was dumb, the cop said it was dumb, Dick, Gar, Alfred, everyone but every single one of them completely neglect the need to survive. Jason's been in and out of the system his entire life. He got lucky that he didn't end up like you in all of the time he was in the system. It was lucky. He lived on the streets, no job, no GED, no diploma, he had nothing. Stealing the hubcaps off cars was how he got money for food. The Batmobile? He knew he'd get more money for it. No one wants to talk about why he did it, just that it was "dumb".

“Well, you got to move in with Batman and even if you succeeded, you would have gotten money. That’s a win-win.” You give him a smile and a laugh because you really wish you would have done it. You get it, you’re the one who gets it.

“What I said!” Jason defends.

“So, that it? Parents and guardians suck?” You pause. “So…why're you here then? I think you're a great Robin, seems a bit weird you're here." You question because you want to know what he did. If stealing hubcaps wasn't Bruce's red flag, what was it?

Jason’s face grows something sad and you’re watching, not sure what he would be sad about. He seems so happy about being Robin. What is there to be sad about? Dick said Bruce wasn’t the best, but was it that bad? Is the guy who dresses up as Batman every night actually a horrible person? Is it all just a show?

“He’s making me take a break.” Jason looks to the ground, his face settling somewhere between annoyed and sad.

You nod. “Ah, what’d ya do?”

“Well,” Jason sighs, running a hand through his hair. “There was the joyrides in the Batmobile and then riding a motorcycle in the manor.”

“I-you…I don’t know what to unpack first. Batmobile or the motorcycle. Why? For both, I guess?” You question.

Why would he risk that? Getting thrown back to the streets or worse? You run the questions through your head but you don't need to ask him because you know. It's what he does. It's what you do. You’re asking Jason to go behind Dick's back, knowing that Dick doesn't have to let you stay. It's a risk and sometimes the risk is worth it. Maybe it's genetic, to be some sort of fuck up. Or, in this case, maybe it's just environmental.

Jason shrugs. “Seemed fun, I guess.”

“You know what I think.” You point a finger at him and Jason deadpans but gestures a hand out for you to proceed. “I think he doesn’t give you enough attention.”

“You a fucking shrink now?”

“Fuck no.” You chortle. “Just an observation. Seems like you like a lot of attention.”

"And why the fuck do you think that?"

"You're a smart-ass." You chuckle as if it should have been obvious. "The risks you take, the fact everyone has something to say about you tells me you intentionally start the shit so they do talk about you. Talking about you in any context is better than being forgotten." You explain and Jason just watches you growing annoyed. He thinks he's so hard to figure out but you have him pegged in five minutes.

"Fuck you." Jason huffs. He does not like being analyzed.

"No one wants to be forgotten." Your voice is quiet and the annoyance suddenly leaves Jason with your tone. You notice the way he looks at you, not with sympathy or pity but with a genuine understanding and you deflect. "And if you keep saying fuck you, I might take you up on it." You wiggle your brows at him and Jason's jaw opens slightly, feeling as if he's just gotten whiplash.

He can play this game. He won't let you get one over on him. This is Jason's game to play and win.

"Fuck. You." Jason taunts you, leaning forward slightly.

You think it's funny. You’re just messing with him but the way he doesn't even bat an eye at it, it energizes your blood in every way. Talking and messing with Jason makes you feel so normal. He doesn't do that little dance thing that Gar does, where he's so worried about stepping on your feelings. Jason just blurts shit out and calls your bluff. It's fun.

"Tell me how you really feel." You challenge him.

Jason wants to go there because he doesn't think you'll commit to it. Maybe you'll pull away or laugh but he'll have won because he didn't back down first. It's like this silent game you're playing and Jason can't tell who the ringmaster is. He swears up and down it's him, but you take the challenge and maybe he's a little worried you'll win.

You make him feel....not useless right now. He has felt useless since being sent here. Dick didn't want him to stick around and help but he kept Rachel and Gar around. He couldn't stop Trigon, he never even stood a chance. But, with you, you don't know any of that shit. It's just you two with no expectations of anything. It's the two of you and your trauma bonding and this little game. He wants it to be a long game though, drag it out and see who wins then.

"I don't think you like attention." Jason states, your brows furrowing and you didn't expect him to be the one to back down.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re awake when no one else is. You choose Gar to hang out with. I'm guessing you did a lot of the crime at night and not just because it was easier. It's Gotham, day crime is also pretty fucking easy. Guessing you haven't told anyone else what happened because you don't want them to look at you.” Jason explains in the same way you did but this time, with a bit more bite in his voice.

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe you’re also a bit transparent around him. “Mmm who’s the wanna-be shrink now?”

“Fuck off.” Jason chuckles. “Have you told anyone else? About what happened to you?”

You shake your head. “No, uh…” You furrow your brows, shaking your head once more. “I almost told Gar but….he makes it….too…”

“Real?”

“Yeah and vulnerable. Dick’s too serious about it and I haven’t talked much to Rachel. You always have a smartass comment though. Makes it feel more like a joke. And....we have Gotham in common, ya know?”

Jason nods with understanding. He doesn’t really like talking about any of it either. None of it really. It’s why he always says it so nonchalantly. It’s easier to brush it all off than boil in the feelings of sadness and regret. It’ll eat him alive if he thinks too much about it.

“Yeah, you make it easier, too.”

“Was that something nice you just said?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jason groans. He nods his head up at you quickly. “How bad are the bruises?” You raise one brow at him. “I’m not a complete fucking asshole, alright? I don’t actually want you to get hurt.”

He’s thinking of caving. He gets you and you get him. Jason doesn’t have confidence about where this will go by any means but he’s confident he can trust you. If it were Jason, he’d never fucking quit if he were told he couldn’t train. He’d be training recklessly if he had to. You, at least had the brains to come and ask him for help. You’re not dumb, you’re desperate and Jason gets it. But he doesn’t want to contribute to your injuries if they’re that bad.

You think for a few seconds. They’re not great. Most of them are a deeper shades which means they’re further away from healing but you have a few older ones that have turned lighter in color. You know those aren’t the ones him and Dick are concerned about. And you could lie to him, it’s not like he’s going to pin you down and check for himself. But that doesn’t really feel right. Especially with him being nice to you and honest.

“What’s your definition of bad?” You ask, just trying to see how well you need to answer his question.

“Do they hurt?” Jason asks, not sure how to answer it.

“Well, yeah they’re bruises.”

“You know what I mean.” Jason groans.

“Yeah, they hurt. Like walking kind of hurts and bending certain ways hurts.”

“And you wanna fucking train and make it worse?”

“Do you ever rest? If you get hurt being Robin, do you rest or do you train?”

“Fine.” Jason groans, knowing he’s lost the battle. “But you know you’re not gonna run into the guy this week, right? The tower is secure so you don’t have shit to worry about.”

Jason caves. Training helps him deal with the bullshit. It makes him feel like he has a purpose. Being Robin is the one thing he does really well and it makes him feel like he belongs somewhere, something he’s never felt before. All the bullshit that happened before, it doesn’t matter when he’s Robin and when he’s training. He wants to give that to you.

“I know but I wanna be prepared. I wasn’t prepared last time.” You answer honestly. You will never let anyone do that to you again.

“You’re fucking crazy, ya know?” Jason chuckles softly.

“So are you, bud.” You get up. “Well, good talk. Lots of trauma bonding, but I’m gonna try to go tot bed.” You opt to end the conversation just in case he changes his mind but you’re a little disappointed. You do enjoy talking to him. Just like this.

Jason pauses for a second, looking up at you. You’re a human person and you have similarities in your traumas. It’s a little refreshing in a fucked up kind of way. No one else really gets it because it’s different, having a parent actively abandon you is different than dying. In a way, Jason thinks it’s worse. His mom picked drugs over him. He wasn’t good enough to love, by his own mother, and the only one who’d actually get that here is you. But, he knows that you might also benefit from actually talking about it with someone who can offer some actual support about it. It did help when he talked to Gar about it once.

“You should talk to Gar.” Jason says from the floor as you were on your way out.

“About?” You turn to look at him.

“What happened to you.” Jason gets up from the floor.

“Why?” You think it’s a bit weird to bring that up and now. You both just said it’s weird making it feel vulnerable and real.

Jason shrugs. “Might help, dealing with it.” He sucks in a breath as if it’s hard for him to even say. He hates talking about it but Gar will just listen. He’s the one person Jason has actually had a heart-to-heart to about it.

“Afraid I might…break him.” You laugh softly. “Ya know? Like he’s already seen some bad shit and he is…. unfathomably kind. I don’t wanna ruin him.”

Jason huffs but there’s a smile peaking onto his face. “He looks at the ligature marks on your wrists whenever you’re not tugging on your sleeves. Whatever he’s imagining happened to you is always going to be worse than what actually happened.” Jason says, his voice a bit flat and you can see this is a struggle for him to say and you wonder why.

“Like in horror movies. Choosing not to show the violence because what we imagine will always be scarier.”

“Yeah, I’m just saying, he’s a good listener if you just wanna be pissed about it.” Jason chuckles. “He’ll let you bitch about it.”

You smile at him and shake your head. Everyone here wants to talk so much shit about him which hey, maybe he deserves usually. But, you see through his bullshit because you do the same shit. It’s not cold-hearted, it’s a coping mechanism. A way to protect yourselves from getting hurt again. You get him, you get it and it makes you happy because he gets you, too.

“You’re not so bad, Jason Todd.” There's a genuine sweetness to your eyes as you say it and Jason doesn't believe it.

“I am the best.” He opens his arms, palms up, the arrogant smile beaming.

You roll your eyes, feeling bubbles and butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah, sure, goodnight, Jason.” You emphasis his name as you turn to leave and it sends Jason’s heart spinning.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” His voice is actually kind as he watches you leave.

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[regal-rosebuds]

Hello again. This is a past anonymous. I'm sorry for constantly bothering you here (if that's the case). I mean, since I'm new here, I ask quite a lot of questions, even banal ones. Of course, I try to figure everything out with the help of independent searches, but it doesn't always work out so well, alas. So, I just wanted to know. You have some special blogs (you know the same regressors, maybe dreamers, educators) and special people with whom you have already established close contact in this… Is it a community, if that's what you can call it? I understand that this can be quite personal information, so if it's too much, then you don't have to answer. It's just that because I'm new and I keep coming across different places, posts, blogs, even in my searches, but I don't really know how to do it… to start… Are there acquaintances here? I'm sorry if it sounded crumpled, I honestly don't know how to express my thought more clearly and clearly.

It can also send a double message, I'm sorry if that happens.

ꔫ No worries!! No need to apologize, my blog is here to answer questions like these! Don’t feel like a bother when you’re just trying to learn.

ꔫ Maybe you want to use an emote signifier so I’ll know it’s you each time!

ꔫ But I digress.

ꔫ Many of my friends in agere or carers are people who I already knew elsewhere but taught about regression. I have met a good few friends from agere discord servers though!

ꔫ I used to be really active in the regression discord community, but it got a bit stressful with my other life factors.

ꔫ As far as Tumblr goes, I don’t have many, if any, close friends on here! Much of my posting is replying to randoms. I do have a few mutuals, but I don’t often go out of my way to become mutuals with others or talk very often with them simply because I’m not too educated on how that part of Tumblr culture works!

ꔫ TL;DR I’m pretty much flying as solo as you are!

ꔫ People like you with kind messages or likes or reblogs are pretty much the only way I know that my posts are coherent!

ꔫ For me, it was better to create an agere lifestyle off of social media with the help of close friends. That way you have an anchor and kind of know what content you’re interested in/looking for.

ꔫ When I’m not posting here, I’m just scrolling through tags or being taken care of by my Knights while I’m regressed.

ꔫ It’s best not to over complicate it in my opinion!

ꔫ P.S. it is 5 am, so sorry if some of my sentences don’t make complete sense!

[delicatelystrangepolice]

I said it before and I’m saying it now: Young Royals fandom only claims to be SO POSITIVE AND LOVING when in fact it’s one of the most toxic fandoms that I’ve ever been in

It’s very unwelcoming when it comes to the critique and different opinions

I understand the mechanism of feeling protective over the things you love. I also know that every fandom (every community in fact) is made out of individuals and it should be transgressive, and changing as it goes. The excuse ‘yeah, people on the internet are like this, there will always be individuals who are toxic’ just doesn’t work for me. No, individuals make communities and those communities can only work and grow when there’s enough space for all sorts of different behaviors and opinions. You would think that Young Royals fans would be understanding of that – always so eager to scream about social injustice. (I guess Lisa’s message that you can’t change anything ever was effective in the end. Congratulations.)

Last year there was a lot of lamenting: I can’t believe it’s going to be over after s3, what’s going to happen to the loveliest fandom then??? And then every time anybody tried to say anything other than widely accepted headcanon people raised and screamed: oh, don’t spread the negativity! Always in an exaggerated tone: I’M SO TIRED OF THE NEGATIVITY CAN’T WE JUST PLEASE LOVE EACH OTHER?? No, we can’t.  We can’t and stop silencing people because you are killing this fandom.

People are leaving (and left before) not because the show ended, not even because the third season was a fucking disaster, but because they feel like they can’t say anything other than lovey-dovey gushy mushy bullshit.

I understand that the critique is more accepted when it’s beautifully written and coherent

Tumblr however is also a blogging platform where people process things individualistically.  You don’t have to follow people who don’t share your opinions. Hell, you can even block them. You shouldn’t however go into their blog and write them mean anons because they dared to say something on their blog. (Yes, even if it was in your beloved tag or you saw that accidentally. Learn to fucking scroll past things) Your input that you think this particular person’s opinion is stupid and should be taken down does NOTHING to spread your beloved positivity. It only makes people shut down and you know what that is going to result in? A bland, weak fandom made out of people in an echo chamber.

Communities can grow because of the negativity

Even if the show ended, there will be people in the future who will watch it and love it and maybe love it enough to want to go on Tumblr and seek others to share the love. Among those people, there will be also the ones who won’t love every single thing about the show and they will seek others to share some disappointments too. If you want this community to stay alive and growing, there must be space for some fucking negativity.

Fandoms are often about finding your niche. This fandom, this fake fucking positivity almost killed the enjoyment of the show for me. I was lucky enough to find my niche but imagine if the people I found left before I got there. Maybe you’d be happy that I’m not here, spilling some hard to accept truths. Maybe you like your fandoms to be small and cliquey. I don’t. I found my niche because I wasn’t afraid to speak about my negative experiences.

Another helpful tip to some people here: don’t make personal claims when you are trying to argue with somebody

I’ve seen enough of ‘you must be (something negative or personal) to think this’:  ‘you must be too young to understand’ ‘you must be racist’ Hell, on one horrible occasion I’ve seen ‘you must have been abused to have this take’ HOLY SHIT. You on the other hand must not be as welcoming and accepting as you claim to be to say something like this to a person who was just writing about a fucking tv show.

I think it’s very ironic that people celebrate the ending of the show: yeah, you should leave the toxic environment if it’s hurting you and then in the fandom people are leaving because they are being attacked.

Yeah, I’m talking about a small group of people who do it. They are very noticeable and the community is accepting of them. If you think I’m talking about you then great, I’m happy you’ve read it to the end. My ask box is open, but don’t think you’ll change my mind if you try to tell me things about me. I know how to delete things. I know how to ignore things. I hope you can too, and maybe you can also take a little critique from someone who’s been in many fandoms before and never felt as unwelcomed and as uncomfortable as I felt in Young Royals fandom.

[ladybeug]

was scrolling thru your art tag enjoying your comics when i suddenly discovered you were the one that wrote strangers in the bright lights. having gotten into miraculous only very recently, was tickled to experience a very small identity shenanigan of my own

incredible fic btw; i love it soooooo much. brilliant, hilarious, sweet, poignant. out of curiosity have you read much postww1 modernist stuff? i adored the usage of free indirect discourse for the narration, drunken and in motion and alive, almost reminded me of virginia woolf in a weird way lol. sorry if this is weird

Hello!! I'm about to get long-winded and self indulgent in this reply, fair warning :)

here goes:

Wow!! I don’t know how you found strangers in the bright lights if you got into ladybug in any time frame that can be described as “very recently”, I wrote that in 2018 when I was digesting some personal stuff and in a fantastic ladybug renaissance (of which I have now had several, I think I’ll die in this fandom).

But I’m so glad you somehow did. I only write every couple of years when I get really specific ideas, and the time I spend on it turns into memories of who I was when I wrote it. I feel like that must happen to actual writers too, ones who write often, but I haven’t written “often” since like 2009 and have never asked, so there you go.

But I guess that’s all to say that I am very attached to that story and it’s also one of the only things I’ve written that still feels like it hit the chord I was aiming for. It is so cool that anyone still reads it!!

To actually answer your question: I have never read virginia woolf, and the only modernist stuff I've read was years ago for school classes. I have to admit none of the style was inspired by classics, but instead inspired by the weird disassociation of trying to be alone in a crowd.

I have a final self-indulgent thought, it is a fun fact I realized as I was going down memory lane about this:

I associate ‘strangers in the bright lights’ with a friendship I made that stands out as one of the luckiest and rarest friendships I’ve made – I went to a mountain goats concert alone, and stood up at the front early, and met someone else who had gone to the same mountain goats concert alone and had stood up at the front early. It was one of the fastest and most comfortable connections I’ve made, and we liked each other so much we stayed in touch, even after they moved away. We are still in touch every so often, and as far as I’m concerned in a few years they’re going to publish the best fantasy novel you’ve ever read, so watch out for that.

The fanfiction is in part inspired by that beautiful feeling of meeting someone new that you want to talk to, and they want to talk to you, and a drink or two has propped up your self esteem and you don’t have to worry about who you are tomorrow, just who you are right now. It’s escapism. You feel important, and carried by that feeling, for as long as you are there. Lonely who? Not me. Trapped by past versions of myself, who? Not me.

Anyways the fun fact is - I found out this morning that concert was a year AFTER I posted this fanfiction. I didn't know about that moment of my life as I was writing this. The two are so connected in my mind that this is genuinely surprising, but the concert was in September 2019 and I published the fanfic a year beforehand.

In the words of mr. mountain goat himself: we held on to hope of better days coming, and when we did we were right!

[tourniquesence]

Juuust making a pinned post since tumblr is basically my primary form of social media now and I’m going to try and have an actual presence on this site lol

im melanie , 20+ and any pronouns are fine for me

Haven’t been as active as I’d like to be with it but I do occasionally post art here- you can check the #my art tag on my blog. Might post some personal project stuff here as well- placeholder tag for that rn is #my projects. Also, random rants/personal posts will be under #rambles

I reblog 18+ content at times, please don’t follow me if you’re underage-I’ll block you if you do. I can be pretty liberal with blocking people in general, most of the time it’s really not personal at all and just me cultivating my dashboard

Also, if you harass people over fiction/shipping… plz just block me. that would be the most productive outcome for everyone. I don’t post about it often, and I do try to tag more obvious triggers where I can (can’t promise I’ll be consistent there) but I appreciate a lot of “dead dove” content. If that’s not your thing, totally fair! But I’d recommend not following me🤷

At the moment,I mostly just reblog fandom stuff and the occasional funny/old man yells at cloud post on here- I try to tag spoilers where I can but can’t promise I’ll be able to be consistent about it so…scroll at your own risk

Things I post/reblog about more often about than others:

Visual art

Umineko

Revolutionary girl utena

Type-moon

Gravity falls

Monster

Homestuck

Undertale

Twin peaks/david lynch content in general

The sopranos

Hannibal

Aaand a *whole* lot of content about random movies, visual novels , video games , anime/manga and tv shows and ship art

If you’d like, feel free to shoot me a message! I’m happy to talk with people but not always the best at responding

Welp, that’s all I feel like sharing about myself for now lol

[riality-check]

Advice for New Fans

AKA: Things I Wish I Knew When I First Started Out

Disclaimers

I’m by no means an expert. 

This list is not comprehensive. Please add your own thoughts to it!

I’m approaching this from a lurker/fic writer perspective, so artists/gifmakers etc. might have different perspectives. 

I’m also really only on tumblr and ao3, so different advice might apply to different sites. 

This advice will not apply in every single case; it is just broad generalization that I have found to work most of the time.

General

Protect your personal information! I’m going to sound like my mother for a minute, but be aware of how much you’re sharing online. Don’t make yourself easier to dox by sharing personal information like names, locations, etc. Be careful. The internet is more good than bad, but bad still exists. Please protect yourself, especially if you’re a minor.

Respect people’s boundaries! For example, if accounts say “minors do not interact,” don’t interact if you’re underage. It sucks (I’ve been here personally), but it’s better for everyone if you scroll away. Boundaries like that are in place for people to curate their own online experiences for whatever reason they see fit. You don’t have to understand a boundary, but you do have to respect it. Be mature.

Don’t be afraid to create! If you’re debating over whether or not to hit the post button, do it. Just do it. If you had fun making whatever your creation is, and you want to share it with people, DO IT. This kind of stuff is supposed to be fun, and it’s all about collaboration. There’s an audience for everything, so someone will absolutely see what you put out and love it, even if you just made it for yourself.

Don’t feel ashamed for not creating! If you’re nervous or unsure about making something, but still want to participate, that’s totally fine! There are so many ways to do that, and I’ll talk about them later in this post. But even if you’re not creating, you’re still a vital participant in fandom (I remember all of my regular commenters!)

Two cakes! Just because it’s been done before doesn’t mean it’s been done by you. No one can make what you make in the way you make it, so even if it is similar to something that already exists, go for it! Chances are, people want more of that thing and will be happy to see it.

Don’t be afraid to join fandom spaces! If you see a link for a Discord server you’re interested in (and you meet requirements set by the mods), join it! If you see an event you want to participate in, participate in it! Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and talk to people. More often than not, you’ll make really awesome friends, and you’ll have a lot of fun. We’re all just people, there’s nothing to be afraid of.

Tumblr

Don’t be afraid to change up your blog! I’m going to be honest: most people won’t care about your blog title. Make it as silly as you want and change it on your own time. Your url isn’t permanent (though it is more recognizable), so feel free to change it whenever and however you see fit. Icon, layout, anything else, change it up. Nothing here is set in stone, so make it what you want!

Curate your experience! “Unfollow” and “block” should be your best friends. Don’t like something? Unfollow. Still keep seeing it? Block. Poof, all gone, you’re done. Don’t pick fights. Don’t waste time energy on fighting when you could be making something or doing something that makes you happy. Follow who you want, like what makes you happy, and, most importantly, REBLOG.

Reblog, reblog, reblog! You gotta do it. It’s how this site works. If you enjoy something enough that you want to show another person, hit that reblog button. It’s how more people see the post, and it makes creatives super happy to see. Likes are for storage, reblogs are for sharing.

Tag your stuff! I really, really wish someone had told me this earlier because now my blog is an absolute wreck. Use tags to make your life easier and your blog more filterable. They don’t have to be funky custom tags like some people use. Fandom tags are a good place to start, and then you can add character, ship, and personal tags if you’re feeling fancy. But please, please, please, tag your stuff, it’s going to make it easier to find it all in the long run. You’ll thank me later.

Talk in the tags! In addition to being organizational, the tags are a fun little place for you to share your thoughts, and only OP (original poster) and the person you reblogged it from. As a writer, I love seeing people’s thoughts in the tags, so don’t be afraid to share them, weird or incoherent or long as they may be!

Yes, and! tumblr has a really, really cool “yes, and” culture. Meaning, if you see a cool little post and have your own ideas that you want other people to see, reblog and add on to it! Just go for it. You’re not stealing anyone’s post or ideas, you’re adding your own thoughts, and, chances are, other people are going to find that pretty cool (and may even add some thoughts on your thoughts, and down the line it goes!)

Post your stuff! I seriously wish I had done this earlier. For a long time, I only posted on ao3 and didn’t really bother with tumblr, which I kind of regret. For example, have you written a snippet you can’t fit into your fic? Post it! Posting to tumblr is a really fun way to get engagement on stuff you may not be ready to post to other sites, like ao3, or it is the final site you had in mind. Whatever the case, go for it! Tag with your fandom, characters, ships, any personal or additional tags, and send it out into the world. More people are going to love it than you think, I promise.

AO3

Titles! Don’t sweat the title too much. Most people don’t read it. They’re going to pay a lot more attention to the summary and tags of your fic. If you are struggling with a title, I recommend song lyrics or a phrase you really like from your fic.

Summaries! This is what’s going to draw your reader into your fic. Don’t just say “I’m bad at summaries,” that’s not going to interest people. Either summarize your fic in one sentence or take an engaging excerpt from it and copy it into the summary box. No matter how bad you think that is, it’s better than no summary at all.

Tagging! Honestly, same principle as tumblr, but for a different reason. Tag your stuff so that people know exactly what’s happening in your fic. Most people filter by tags, meaning that what you put ensures that they get the best reading experience possible. Best advice I can give: tag major romantic and platonic relationships, characters, dynamics (ex: Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson), and themes of the fic (ex: fluff, angst, pwp, etc.). Better advice: go find the fics you like that are similar to what you’re writing and see how they tag.

Format! This is the biggest one, and it’s the thing that made me want to create this post in the first place. Please, do not give me a wall of text to read when I click the link to what looks like an amazing fic. It hurts my soul. The best advice I have for format is to read actual books and see how they’re formatted. Briefer, more simplistic advice: start a new paragraph every time someone new speaks or the focus changes. You also don’t have to indent on ao3, and if you’re in Rich Text, it’ll put spaces between paragraphs for you. Also, there’s a horizontal line button in rich text, so you don’t have to spam the underscore key to manually create one.

Comment! I personally have to get better at this, but comment! If you liked the fic, share your thoughts, even if it’s just a little heart emoji! Writers spend so much time on their fics, and they love feedback that’s a little more in depth than a kudo (although kudos are always appreciated)! If you’re able to, comment. You’ll make a writer’s day, I promise. If you’re a writer, don’t feel pressured to respond to every comment. If you want to, go for it! If you don’t, that’s okay, too. You’re all good either way.

Conclusion

Please add on to this with whatever you wish you were told when you were first starting out! And new fans, welcome! We’re happy to have you here, and we hope you have fun!

[lady-bess]

Just A Date - Tim Rockford

Part of the LadyBess Valentine's special! 8 Characters; 8 Dates 💜

Detective Tim Rockford x GN!Reader Mature/18+ (Minors DNI Please✨) WC: 1.2k Notable Tags: References to gun-holsters being used in the bedroom, Yeah we're starting off strong, Valentine's Date Ruined, Backup Date, Chinese Takeout, References to Alcohol, References to Sex, Kissing, Swearing, Fluff, SFW (nearly).

To say this detective only got a mere 48-seconds of screen time, he’s very quickly become a favourite in the Pedro-verse! And man, with gun holsters like that, I can see why…

Anyway!

We don’t know much about Tim, so I’ve taken a fair few creative liberties with this one! I hope that I still do the man justice!

“Rockford, I’m sorry, but this case needs working tonight. A lead has opened up, and if we don’t act now we might not get a chance again,” his boss said. Tim sighed, knowing this would definitely derail his plans with you tonight, but he understood the need.

“No worries, sir. Let me just call my partner though, alright? I’m sure you can appreciate we did have plans tonight,” he said.

“I thought you might, and I’m so sorry. I’ll tell you what, I’ll throw in an extra day of paid leave in for you for making you miss your plans tonight,” he offered.

“Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, smiling faintly before pulling his phone out to call you.

It had been a bummer for sure when Tim cancelled, but you were understanding. His job was demanding, and you knew from day one that his rank within the force meant he often had to prioritise work over his personal life. Tim had never minded so much, and outwardly he never complained. But you knew, deep down, that it irritated him.

At the end of the day though, he loved his work, and what he did kept the streets a much safer place. You’d sacrifice all your nights with him if it meant that he got to continue his good work. At least he now got to come home to you.

Moving in together had been the best decision you’d made, and it had made a lot of sense in the end. Both your jobs kept you tied to your desks for longer than you’d both ever like to admit, so at least now you got to spend some more time together by sharing the same bed every night. Your relationship had only gone from strength to strength ever since that day you were given a set of keys to his place.

The front door to your apartment opened several hours later. You were lay on the couch, idly scrolling through the TV channels, seeing if there were any films being showed that you fancied watching. Sure, you had streaming services, but something about watching a film ‘live’ hit different.

“Sweetheart?” Tim shouted from the door.

“In here!” you called out.

Tim smiled at the sound of your voice, the sound instantly making him feel like he was well and truly home. This had been where he lived for many years, but until you came along it hadn’t felt like somewhere he wanted to put roots down.

He slipped his coat off and hung it on the back of the kitchen chair, then headed through to you in the lounge. In his hand he held a white plastic bag, filled with his vague attempt at making up for tonight.

You smiled wide as he appeared in the doorway, his tie already loosened around his neck, brown curls ruffled and dishevelled. Tim smiled over at you, his eyes creasing behind his thick framed glasses. You could tell just by looking at him that he was exhausted, but behind the fatigue was a happiness to see you.

“Hey, you,” he said, “Sorry I had to stay late. I’m hoping this might make it up to you?” he asked, raising the white plastic bag. You furrowed your brow, sitting up on the couch and squinting at the logo on the bag.

“What is it?” you asked, and Tim slowly headed over to you. He set down the plastic bag on the coffee table, then sank down onto the couch next to you.

“Chinese takeout. It ain’t much, but I felt it was the least I could do after ruining our plans for tonight,” he said, a slight sigh coming from his lips as he relaxed into the couch. You smiled and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the cheek, just above the scruff of his beard. Tim smiled as he felt the warmth of your kiss seep into his skin, and turned to look at you.

“You haven’t ruined anything, Tim. You’re a great detective, and I’ll never hold it against you that sometimes work needs you more than I do,” you said, “I love you”.

“I love you too,” he said, reaching forward to caress your cheek, then softly kissed you. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to relax into his hold, all the pressures of your jobs disappearing at the contact of your skin on one another. “Come on, let’s eat before this gets cold!” he said.

You smiled and nodded, moving away from Tim to begin your assault on the plastic bag of takeout. It was always a bit of a wild card whenever Tim collected food, but there was always one guarantee: Chow Mein. Sure enough, you found a box of it tucked into the bottom, and giggled to yourself.

“You’re so predictable sometimes,” you said, getting the boxes out and spreading them out onto the table. Tim stood to his feet.

“Oh, shush!” he chuckled. “Now, fancy some wine with it too?” he said, heading over to the wine rack at the other side of the room.

“Only if you’re having some. Aren’t you working tomorrow?” you asked.

“I was, but not anymore! Boss gave me tomorrow off for fucking up tonight’s plans,” he said, pulling a bottle of red wine out the rack and then heading to get some glasses.

“Oh, brilliant! Shall we watch a film then, if we can be up a bit later?” you asked, opening up the takeout boxes and beginning to separate the chopsticks provided. Tim came back into the room a few moments later, a generous glass of wine in either hand, and he came to sit next to you.

“We sure can! Although, I’ll be frank, once we’ve eaten all of this there’s only one thing I wanna do tonight,” he chuckled, kissing your jaw once he was settled back into the couch as his hands worked away at his tie. You giggled, blushing bright red, and had to hide the wide grin across your face. Even after all this time of knowing each other, he still managed to reduce you to a complete puddle.

“Stop it, you!” you teased, jokingly slapping his thigh. “Get those gun holsters off and have your dinner with me!”.

Tim sat up, grabbing you around the waist, and buried his head in the crook of your neck. His lips danced along your ears delicately, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end. Large hands spread out across your torso, keeping you pinned to his chest as he continued to tease you.

“I thought you liked it when I kept the holsters on?” he whispered, chuckling under his breath when you whimpered in pleasure at the thought that ran across the forefront of your mind.

Safe to say, it was the fastest either of you had ever eaten dinner in your entire life.

For more from this series, check out the Just A Date Masterlist! For more works from me, here's my main Masterlist! ❤

LadyBess xox

[supernovaa-remnant]

I heard about this Shubble person recently, I stayed out of drama as much as I could but, what happened now??? You even wrote this in one of your tags "#I really did love him a lot (parasocially)". I was busy this week so I don't know what is happening now.

I highly recommend people watch Shubble’s vod on her twitch channel (I don’t have a link but I can’t imagine it’s that difficult to find). Be mindful though as the vod does talk about abuse which is a very triggering topic, so make sure to be taking care of yourself. I’m gonna put the rest of the post under the cut, so people can easily scroll past this if they want to.

As a little summary, Shubble streamed yesterday and talked about her abusive ex. She didn’t name anyone, but she also wasn’t hiding who it was, and contrary to what some people may say, a lot of the dots being connected are stuff we know from past streams and comments from friends and not leaked info.

So, the incredibly most likely case is that it was Wilbur. I’m not gonna get into everything Shelby said because she said it on her stream, but the signs do point to Wilbur, and you’d have to reach significantly further to claim she was talking about someone else. There’s not a lot of British male ccs who have a bigger audience than her who have a history of biting people and have reason to be going on long travels (tour) where they wouldn’t see each other often.

Listen. I was a certified dreambur blog, okay? Everyone who glanced in my direction knew that I was a Wilbur fan. Everyone knows that I loved him so fucking much. But that’s not an excuse to bury my head in the sand and ignore everything, y’know?

Anyway, this is gonna be the last time I talk abt this publicly (I’m sure my friends will hear more in DMs though sorry <3), so I’m gonna throw a bit more stuff here abt my blog going forward.

I will eventually talk abt c!wilbur again. I’m still gonna write my silly little c!dreambur aus, I’ve just put them on the back burner. regardless of cc actions, I genuinely do love so many of the characters on the dsmp. I’ll probably be focused on some other fics for a while, but c!wilbur’s my cat and I don’t think he’s leaving my brain soon. I just need a little time.

I think cc!wilbur is someone who needs help. and I genuinely do hope he gets that help. but having mental health struggles isn’t an excuse. and I just can’t see myself engaging in his content in the foreseeable future. you’re not gonna see me post neg about him. you’re just likely not gonna see me post anything about him at all.

I’m happy to know Shubble has an amazing support system. I’m so sorry she had to go through something so horrible. I’m wishing her nothing but the best, and everyone should check out her YouTube channel!! I haven’t watched her newest video yet, but I did watch Lizzie’s pov of the collab, so I know it’s a fun concept

If people have questions that this post doesn’t answer, then I’m happy to answer them in DMs, but I don’t wanna talk abt this publicly anymore. (I reserve a right to change my mind though if I for some reason feel the need to post abt it again)

Anyway, take care of yourselves. Love is never ever wasted, okay? And all that love belongs to you. And it’s always a good thing to put more love out into the world. Never feel guilty for loving, okay? 🫂

[walmartpika]

My Little Introduction :3

Hiiiii!

I’m Pika! <3

I’m a Female digital artist and media obsessed nerd. (She/her)

I’m from a land far far away (my first language is not English), and I’ve come here to bless you with my fun art and movie/series insights. (don’t take anything/most things seriously :3)

I’ll be here to post whatever comes to mind.. this counts, doodles, art, random thoughts (most fandom related :3) or writing! (Literally, anything)

A common topic that im working on right now is the TrafficLightTrio, which I have with my two friends @ghostlydorito and @nyxxistic . This means, we’ll be sharing a lot of persona related stuff, stories, head cannons, and the universes we have created! (We travel…a lot..through the multiverse..)

Fandoms that will definitely be sharing is:

* Supernatural

* Lisa Frankenstein

* Stranger things

* Good omens

* Our flag means death

* Whatever other thing that gets my attention…

Warnings for content will be mostly said on the art itself. I don’t tend to draw things like gore or suggestive themes, as I myself am still a practicing artist. If this changes, it will be posted here or a new message!

Tags where you can find me:

Any fandom tag..

“Pikaart” for my doodles and sketches

“TLT” for TrafficLightTrio relates

“Pikasmutters” for texts posts and random rambles

“Pikafandom” for my fandom, movie, series and media related items.

Also feel free to check the TLT out on YouTube: https://youtube.com/@Thetrafficlighttrio?si=43Lw5N7wVGSSUyqu

(You can find all our personal channels in the description of the shared channel :3 )

Please don’t repost my art and things anywhere else without clear credit and/or asking. Thank you! :>

Please don’t expect consistent and often posting!!

I tend to forget Tumblr exists for weeks on end, so don’t expect too much :3

Okay, I think that’s it, happy scrolling!! <3

[waywardstation]

I love the train of thought au! I hate Tumblr though, especially mobile Tumblr. Had to scroll for 30~20 minutes to reach the bottom of the tag. (Mobile Tumblr reloaded at least a few times and I almost threw my phone. I think I cried twice in frustration.)

I am absolutely foaming at the mouth because I've always liked the way Ingo and Emmet get presented, the characterizations are just so... Mwah 🤭.

For some reason the only thing I could think about after spending an entire night reading that wall of posts was the concept of big brother Ingo.

Sorry if I'm ranting here, it really has nothing pertaining to the au at all but I hate this concept, especially the societal concept that the older brother takes care of the younger one. Twins especially since they are usually born minutes from each other and that really doesn't mean anything different in experience.

Yes, Emmet is younger but I've always pictured him as the headstrong one that stands up for Ingo more often than not. (Honestly that's the vibe they give off collectively). I like to think of them as not in a big brother, little brother dynamic but a "we been through so much shit together we support each other fully" dynamic. I do understand why people like using it though.

Wait, what was this post about again? I swear I'm not trying to negatively rant right after bringing up stuff that plagued my mind while reading. I guess all I want to say is thank you for hosting this wonderful community au on your blog.

Expect Tumblr crabs in your blog later on. This is a warning.

Hey there OP! Glad you like it, I do too!!! (Still working on that masterpost ^^;) and apologies with tumblr mobile, I know it’s not the best with optimization!

I’m putting a readmore below because I got a lot more detailed than I intended to, regarding Ingo and Emmet’s sibling dynamic.

I like your views because it really isn’t as black and white (ha) as all that. I am a twin myself, the younger between us (and also by a few minutes) and throughout our lives it certainly has gone back and forth with us, but there’s really no definite position of looking after the other, just like with any other sibling relationship.

Given how Ingo and Emmet are, I imagine their dynamic very similar to what you’re talking about, being each others’ full supporters. Multiple lines in Masters EX show this, like these few from Emmet:

"Ingo and I are twins. We're both Subway Bosses, and we're each other's closest rival! We always challenge each other to get better. That's the kind of relationship we have! It's always a lot of fun when we're together!"

However, I feel like Ingo might feel… I don’t want to say obligated, because it’s certainly not work, and he knows very well Emmet can fend for himself, but perhaps inclined (pressured? By himself??) to carry through with what’s normally expected of an older brother. He might feel like he should look out for Emmet when he can:

“My younger brother, Emmet, would always entertain passengers on the Battle Subway... Now he is enjoying being a host here on Pasio. However, he's still new to this style of hospitality. Would you mind keeping an eye on him?"

And this might be somewhat spurred by the fact that Emmet looks up to Ingo, which I am sure Emmet has made Ingo aware of - he just might not want to let Emmet down:

"Do you have any siblings? I have an older brother, Ingo. He's verrrry strong. He hardly ever loses in Pokémon battles. Even though I also hold the title of Subway Boss, I really look up to him."

I do feel Emmet is very ready to support Ingo as well, seeing as how in their story event in Masters EX, Emmet was trying very hard to help Ingo with a project of theirs:

"I want to make Ingo’s idea a reality! Please, let me do this!"

And regarding your thoughts that of the two, Emmet is more headstrong, I feel similarly, and think he would always very clearly stand up for Ingo when needed.

I do headcanon that growing up, Emmet was more outgoing than Ingo (and that this led him to meeting Elesa, the new exchange student at their school, and taking her over to Ingo to introduce her to him, since he was more reserved and shy - not terribly so, but more so than Emmet)

ALL IN ALL - both Ingo and Emmet fully support and help each other out whenever they need it. And while Ingo might feel pressured by himself to look out for Emmet as the older brother, Emmet naturally does it for Ingo just as much, if not a little more, simply due to his outgoing nature

To try and tie this back to Train of Thought AU, I’m sure Akari and Irida would see a lot of moments expressing this dynamic of theirs in the many memory traincars throughout the mind station.

AND MG Emmet himself is pretty much a monument to this. MG Emmet is doing everything he can to keep Ingo safe from the Remnant and to protect him, even at his own expense to some degree. MG Emmet might only be a mental projection of how Ingo sees his brother, but the fact that MG Emmet is doing that means Ingo knows Emmet would do things like that for him, and he would.

Thanks for your ask OP!!! Very glad you like the AU, and happy you gave me a chance to go into all of this - I did not expect to dissect things like I did haha.

(And tumblr crabs? oh boy!!! Those would be my first!!)