#I’ve seen four takes and they’re still top

[stuckasmain]

Anyways if anyone has a boot with John and Courtney I’d probably cry. I saw the tour weeks ago but they live so rent free.

[salethe2]

I’ve seen a lot of takes on this scene, and honestly they’re all so interesting, so I decided to give my perspective.

Okay, starting with Armand’s costume, which Carol Cutshall absolutely nailed. Here’s what she said about Armand’s costume design:

—“One of the things about Armand is he is so ancient and so powerful that he always presents himself as very open. Whereas some of the other characters are very covered up, he’s always very open because he really doesn’t see anyone as a threat to himself. He didn’t have any predators or any reason to be on guard, or be armoured.”

Personally, I find this design choice fascinating because, despite being a predator at the top of the food chain, vampires like Armand, especially as a coven leader, would normally need to remain vigilant. Yet, he’s completely at ease, even surrounded by other vampires.

I mean, look at him here. Sure, it’s not the deep, open V-neck shirts he wears in the interview scenes, but his outfit is still loose and open. And he’s literally surrounded by a group of vampires he knows are plotting against him. He even has his back to said vampires and yet, he’s not the least bit nervous in either situation!

Even with Daniel, he’s not nervous or afraid because he doesn’t initially see him as a threat.

So, if Armand isn’t scared of his own coven—a bunch of vampires ready to kill him at the first opportunity—or Daniel, who could potentially expose all his manipulations, then why on earth does he go into full armor mode to meet a seemingly inconsequential human he’s never encountered before? He’s literally in a turtleneck, shielding his most vulnerable area for crying at loud!

A for body language—honestly, Assad Zaman deserved an Emmy for this scene. We see Armand being aloof, a little suave and condescending, employing the whole, “I’m a four-century-old vampire; you’re just a lowly human” tactic. It’s like he’s sizing her up, wanting to understand who she is while simultaneously aiming to provoke her, curious to see how she will react.

As for his questions, he frames them in the way you might expect a coven leader to interrogate a human he’s about to turn. Questions like, “How will you survive? Are you okay with killing people and being a monster?” It almost seems like he’s trying to make her reconsider her decision to turn, but it’s all a facade.

Because the question he really wants to ask is the last one, and when he finally approaches it, his entire demeanor shifts.

He sheds the suave demeanor and shifts to a more serious tone, embodying what Louis describes as his "post-apocalyptic look." He towers over Madeleine, gazing down at her in an attempt to intimidate. At this point, Madeleine's expression turns genuinely nervous, perhaps even frightened—and understandably so. Yet, she holds her ground. It's then that Armand poses the crucial question he had come specifically to ask.

“And what will you do in a few decades when she throws herself into the fire? Because she will.”

Now, why does this question seem familiar? It’s because Armand has previously made a similar statement to Louis. He had forewarned Louis that Claudia’s mind was bound to deteriorate over time. Now, Louis tearfully countered that Armand couldn’t be sure of this, yet part of him probably recognized the truth in Armand’s words, which likely contributed to his emotional plea for Armand to look after her.

Armand realized then that Louis, despite his deep love for Claudia, lacked the resolve to keep her grounded, effectively sealing her fate, which seemed all but inevitable by that point. He even assigns Claudia the role of Lulu as a way to infantilize her and further break her spirit—almost as a test to gauge Louis’ reaction. Unfortunately, Louis does nothing about it, while Madeleine clearly recognizes it for the manipulation it is.

And what does she do next? Madeleine quickly gets Claudia out of that outfit and into one more fitting for her. By doing this, she threatens Armand’s plans without even realizing it.

It’s also interesting to note that the only time Armand is ever truly angry with Claudia is when he sees her with Madeleine. This reaction underscores the threat he perceives in their bond, disrupting his control of the situation, and here is why.

When Armand posed the question to Madeleine about what she would do when Claudia throws herself into the fire, her response was:

“Or maybe she won’t. You don’t know. Maybe I’m what she needs to survive.”

And the way she meets his gaze as she says this marks a shift in their conversation. Throughout their entire conversation, Madeleine often looks away and breaks eye contact, but not in this moment. Here, she meets his gaze head-on. Even though she is clearly nervous, and likely a bit scared, she holds his gaze because she is sure of her words. This is a powerful moment where Madeleine not only asserts her belief but also turns the tables—now, it’s Armand’s turn to feel uneasy.

Of course, you don’t see it in his face, but it’s evident in his body language. The way he becomes closed off, his hand fidgeting, and his gaze fixed ahead as if deep in thought. He doesn’t even refute her.

Even with Lestat, when he warns him about Nicky, Armand doesn’t stay silent; he confidently affirms his insights, and Lestat—of all people—clearly believes him. But with Madeleine, it’s a different story. He goes silent, not uttering a word in response. He doesn’t attempt to persuade her because he recognizes that her mind is made up, her resolve unshakable. But perhaps the words that really hit home for him were “You don’t know.” This was probably the words that sealed Madeleine’s fate because the last thing you want to say to a master manipulator and control freak like Armand is that they don’t know something. Because now, all of a sudden Claudia’s death isn’t a certainty anymore and he can’t just sit back and wait for her to lose her sanity. He must take matters into his own hands now.

Anyway, one might think that Madeleine and Claudia leaving, thereby leaving Louis all to Armand, would satisfy him. After all, one of the first things he asks Claudia and Madeleine is if they’re considering returning to Paris, and you might assume Madeleine’s answer pleased him. However, her answer doesn’t satisfy him, not after what Madeleine says soon after.

Madeleine’s words confirm that Claudia indeed loves Louis, and because Madeleine loves Claudia, she persuades her to return to Paris despite her obvious and valid disdain for the city. This revelation proves to Armand, even if they leave Louis, Madeleine and Claudia will always remain a significant part of Louis’s life. For Armand, this is intolerable. To him, Claudia is a dangerous manipulator and a competitor of Louis’s attention.

So even if they all lived happy, separate lives, Armand’s nature is such that he cannot live with the doubt and fear that Claudia might draw Louis away from him. Having been abandoned too many times in his life, deeply wounded by those closest to him, and left behind for others, he cannot risk experiencing that pain again.

Thus, in that moment when he speaks to Madeleine in the apartment, he decides that both she and Claudia need to be eliminated. I believe this was the real reason Armand was there under the pretense of turning her. He needed to evaluate how much of a threat Madeleine posed to his plans, and upon realizing she was basically a live grenade, he knew he needed to act swiftly to get rid of her. Because as long as Madeleine is present, so will Claudia, and as long as Claudia exists, Louis will never truly belong to Armand.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

High Fashion

Synopsis: Valentino’s never been met with someone he can’t have. Until you.

Navigation!!

Warnings: Valentino x fem!reader! mentions of drinking / gambling! Inspired by the song High Fashion by Addison Rae!

The first time Valentino saw you, he thought you were a mirage.

Dripping in diamonds, clad in a designer dress that clung to every flawless curve, you walked through his club like you owned the place—because, in a way, you did. You were untouchable, a goddess carved from obsidian and silk, and everyone in the room knew it. Demons with status whispered your name like a forbidden prayer, their gazes lingering but never daring to reach out.

And Valentino? Oh, he was hooked from the moment you didn’t look at him.

He was used to being the center of attention, used to the way demons threw themselves at his feet for a taste of his wealth, his power. But you? You didn’t flinch under the neon glow of his kingdom. Didn’t bat an eye when you strode past him, your heels clicking against marble as if you were walking down the runway of Hell itself.

It drove him insane.

So he did what he did best—he chased.

“Y’know, sweetheart,” Valentino drawled, leaning against the sleek bar where you sat, swirling a crystal glass of top-shelf whiskey between your fingers. “Most people at least pretend they’re impressed when they see me.”

You took a slow sip, your gaze finally meeting his. It was almost cruel, the way your lips parted, the way the ice clinked against the glass, the way you looked at him like he was nothing more than background noise.

“And I’m not most people,” you replied smoothly, voice dripping with unbothered luxury.

Valentino grinned, sharp and dangerous. He liked games, especially ones where the stakes were high. “That so?” He tilted his head, his four glowing eyes raking over you. “Then tell me, doll—what’s it take to impress someone like you?”

You exhaled a soft laugh, placing your glass down with the grace of a queen. “Something money can’t buy.”

His fingers drummed against the bar. “Lucky for you, I don’t just got money, sweetheart. I got power. Influence.” His voice dropped, sultry and low. “Charm.”

You arched a brow, utterly unimpressed. “I’ve seen men richer, stronger, and smoother than you. They all think the same thing—that they’re the exception.”

That—that was new.

Valentino didn’t get rejected. Ever.

Most demons either feared him or wanted him. You? You were completely indifferent, and it only made him want you more.

He chuckled, flicking the end of his cigarette before taking a slow drag. “That’s cold, baby. Real cold.” His gaze flickered to the diamonds laced around your throat, the designer heels that probably cost more than some demons’ souls. “But I gotta say, you got good taste. Who’s the lucky bastard keeping you dripped out like this?”

You smirked. “I am.”

And that? That hit him like a bullet to the chest.

No sugar daddy, no rich bastard funding your lifestyle. You weren’t arm candy—you were the whole damn banquet. A woman who owned herself, who didn’t need anyone.

Fuck.

You were dangerous.

Valentino leaned in closer, voice like velvet. “Lemme guess. You don’t do favors, don’t take orders, don’t settle for less than perfection?”

You met his gaze, unshaken. “I don’t settle at all.”

Goddamn.

He’d never met anyone in Hell who could match his arrogance, his fire, his hunger. But there you were, sitting pretty with a glass of whiskey and a smirk that said you knew exactly how much power you held.

Valentino loved a challenge.

For weeks, he chased.

Invitations to exclusive parties, front-row seats at fashion shows, extravagant gifts that anyone else would have killed for. Valentino wasn’t just a man—he was a brand, and when he wanted something, he got it.

But you?

You didn’t play by his rules.

Each gift was returned untouched. Every invitation politely declined. Every attempt to pull you into his world was met with that same knowing smile—the kind that made his blood run hot.

Still, you never told him to stop.

Because, despite your distance, you liked the game too.

“You know, most girls would be on their knees by now,” he murmured one evening, finding you at a high-stakes poker table in one of Hell’s most exclusive lounges.

You didn’t look up from your cards. “Then maybe you should be chasing most girls instead.”

Valentino laughed, low and husky. “Oh, sweetheart. If I wanted most girls, I wouldn’t be here.”

A subtle glance, a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Then why are you?”

Because he was addicted. Because every time you turned away, he wanted you more. Because you were the only person in Hell who could look him in the eyes and not flinch.

He smirked, tipping his sunglasses down just enough for his glowing gaze to meet yours. “’Cause I like the way you make me work for it.”

The night he finally got you alone, the air between you crackled with something electric.

A private suite, overlooking the neon-lit sprawl of Hell. Valentino leaned against the glass wall, swirling his drink, watching as you draped yourself over the plush leather couch, legs crossed, diamonds catching the low light.

“You really don’t break, huh?” he mused, voice laced with admiration.

You met his gaze, slow and deliberate. “Would it be fun if I did?”

His grin was wicked. “Not one bit.”

There was a beat of silence, thick and charged. Then—

“You really think you can have me?” you asked, tilting your head.

Valentino exhaled a slow chuckle, stepping closer. “Baby, I don’t think—I know.”

Your smirk was intoxicating. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

And just like that, you stood, brushing past him with a whisper of perfume and promise, leaving only the ghost of your presence behind.

Untouchable. Unattainable. Unfazed.

Valentino let out a low whistle, watching you go.

He’d never wanted anything more.

[makethemhoesmad]

baby mama-a.f.

not proofread

if you dumbasses had looked at the poll you would have seen that part 2 has to wajt

shoutout to @cjrights for bullying you guys with me

you’re fucking welcome for this i had to go to ao3 for inspo

—

“azzi, look at this one,” i say to my girlfriend, moving my phone in front of her face. it’s playing what’s probably the seventh baby video i’ve shown her tonight, but i actually cannot get over how cute they are. 

“yes baby, they’re all very cute. is there a purpose to all of these, or do you just want me to see them?”

i blush, embarrassed. i shake my head at her, tucking myself between her and the back of the couch instead.

“aw, cmon darling, look at me. do you want one? is that what this is about? want me to put a baby in your belly?” i breathe in deeply against her neck, reminding her that im still not looking at her. she grabs my chin and forces me face to face with her, brown eyes glowing, pupils blown wide. “well? is that want you want mama?” i blush harder.

“ye-yeah az. want you to give me a baby, want you to- i just want you” azzi grins at me and pulls us both off the couch and into the bedroom.

“okay mama, i want you to strip for me, right here. i’ll be back in a second. make sure to be all ready for me, gonna put a baby in you”

i take off my pajama pants, panties, and bra, then settle against the pillows. azzi comes back, also wearing nothing, slipping into her strap.

“m’gonna make you feel so good, your gonna look so pretty with your belly all swollen up with my baby.” 

with that, she flips us and pulls me onto her lap, right onto her strap. i whimper as it pushes into me. we don’t use it very often, but its moments like these when i wonder why not.

“ah-azzi, yes, please, so, don’t stop keep going” i groan, feeling azzis hands move to my waist to keep me moving up and down on her. my head lolls back as i feel the knot in my stomach growing.

“you’re such a good girl, taking me so well mama. you look so beautiful, so amazing, so perfect”

i nearly scream out at her words, leaning forward and biting at her shoulder to muffle my voice.

“come on mama, let it all out. you’re gonna look so pretty, i’ll spoil you so good, won’t even let you walk around after four months, have to carry you”

i scream out her name as i climax, her words pushing me to the edge. she keeps moving me up and down, even after i’ve come down from my high. “azzi, please, too much, it’s too good, too good, please let me taste you”

she relents immediately, pulling me off of her and unbuckling her strap. 

“okay pretty, get on your knees and show me you deserve a baby” i listen, pushing her thighs apart and burying my face in her soaked pussy. i feel her hand on top of my head, holding me to her like i would ever leave. i flick my tongue against her clit, causing her hips to jolt. i hear her start to whine, meaning she’s about to come. i eat her through her climax, like i haven’t eaten in years.

“cmere pretty baby, let me hold my sexy baby mama.”

i crawl up onto the bed and under the blankets, slithering into her arms. 

“i love your arms, did i ever tell you that? i think they’d look real good with a baby in them” i tell her, running my fingers over her biceps.

“and i think you’d look really good as a mom pretty. i love you baby mama”

[thicknick19]

Tell No One

Part Four: Don't Let Them Take Me

The Voice

You’re asleep when the knock comes. Not a sound you’ve heard since arriving.

It’s soft. Controlled. But it’s a knock.

You sit up slowly, heart pounding behind your ribs.

No one enters without a key. No one knocks. That’s been the rule.

No contact. No warning. No escape.

You don’t move. You listen.

The knock comes again.

Then a voice, muffled through the steel.

“EXR-117. Step to the door.”

It’s clipped. Too formal. Detached.

“You’re being relocated. Please comply.”

Yesterday

You know why they’re here.

They sent you to the exercise corridor again—longer this time. Too quiet. Too open.

That’s where you saw him again.

The other subject. The one from before. The one who talks too much.

He sat on the bench near the mirrored wall, stretching like it was just another ordinary day.

No escort. No staff. Just him. Waiting.

“Hey,” he said, eyes still forward. “Still got your shadow?”

You didn’t answer.

“I’ve seen how your lights flicker. The warm meals. The extras. Someone’s watching you.”

You kept walking. You should’ve kept walking.

But he stood up and followed. One step. Then another.

“The last girl who got that kind of attention? Gone. Not relocated. Gone.”

You stopped. You turned. Your voice was louder than you meant.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t follow me. You don’t know anything about me.”

He didn’t flinch.

“I know enough,” he said. “You’re being watched more closely than anyone else. But it’s not protection. It’s observation.”

He leaned in, voice low:

“When they’re done watching you, they’ll want to see what you do without him.”

You shoved him.

Not hard. But enough.

The impact echoed—his shoes scraped loudly against the floor as he stumbled back.

And then—

Sirens.

Sharp. Short. Not deafening—just alerting.

Doors opened fast.

Two staff members entered the hallway like they’d been waiting just out of frame. They didn’t speak. They didn’t hesitate.

They grabbed him.

He cursed. Struggled.

“I didn’t touch her! I didn’t do anything! She—she’s the one who—”

One of them jabbed a needle into the side of his neck. Quick. Precise.

He went still. Limbs slack. Eyes wide.

They dragged him down the corridor by the arms, his heels scraping the floor.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

They didn’t look at you. They didn’t need to.

You’d already broken the rules.

And someone had seen everything.

The Observation Log

That night, your dinner tray comes with something extra.

A folded slip of paper—tucked under the utensils like it belongs there.

You bring it to the desk. Open it slowly.

It’s a document. A report. Not for you.

SUBJECT: EXR-117 Emotional engagement fluctuates in response to isolated stimuli. Observer interference suspected. See logs: 09.02, 09.04, 09.06. Note: Observer M22 exhibiting pattern divergence. Attachment behavior escalating.

Your skin goes cold.

They know someone is watching you more closely than they should. They don’t name him. But you know who it means.

The one behind the mirror. The one who moved your bed. The one who left the blanket. The one who hasn’t stopped since.

The Isolation Room

You don’t sleep.

In the morning, they don’t take you to the corridor.

They take you to a new room. Smaller. White. Blank. No mirror. No lights that change. No sounds. No blinking red light.

You sit on the floor and wait.

Ten minutes. Twenty.

Then you speak.

“What is this? Am I being punished?”

No answer.

You knock. You shout. You stand. Pace. Sit again. Nothing changes.

“Where is he?”

The silence eats the words.

You feel it for the first time—not just the absence of comfort, but the absence of him.

“Please,” you whisper. “Don’t make me disappear.”

Still nothing.

You don’t know how long you’re in there. Time doesn’t work in blank space.

And then, the door opens.

They bring you back to your room.

Everything is the same.

Except your bed. It’s been made differently. The way you like it.

And there's something new folded neatly on top.

A heavier blanket. Familiar weight. Familiar scent.

He was here.

While you were gone—he came back.

The Attempt

You fall asleep holding the edge of that blanket tight in your hands.

And then the knock comes.

“EXR-117. You’re being relocated. Please comply.”

You sit up slowly. Turn your eyes to the mirror.

“Don’t let them take me.”

The light blinks.

Once. Then again. Then—faster.

The Breach

The door opens.

Two masked staff. One with restraints. One holding a tablet.

“Please don’t resist. This is for your safety.”

You step back until your spine touches the mirror.

The light flares.

Then—darkness.

Not flickering. Not fading. A full blackout.

A soft mechanical shift behind the mirror.

And then—movement. Not loud. Not threatening. Just the sense of presence on the other side.

A low electrical hum. A hiss of air. A click.

Something is being overridden.

You don’t see him. But you know who it is.

Then—light. Back on. Blinding.

The staff looks to the mirror. Then each other.

“Pulling back. Subject compromised. Possible breach of observation.”

They leave.

They don’t look back.

The Message

That night, there’s no food on your tray.

Only a single piece of folded paper.

You open it slowly.

No name. No signature.

But the red light on the mirror is blinking again.

Steady. Solid. A heartbeat you’ve started to recognize.

He's not supposed to care. He's not supposed to intervene. But he has.

And now you know—he won’t stop.

Taglist: @riasturns@poppetbaby02@johnheart@bells-sturn@user1smvtysturniolo@finnickodairslut @bellxx9 @ariastur9z @sage-burrow@theylovedemi @persephonesluvs @elisebeattie@novalovesstvrz@angelsturniolo@honey-zozo@idek1234567891@darksturnioloqueen@alexisa78

[usuallydyinginside]

Dragon Age Veilgard Spoilers 👇

TLDR: I never want to hear anyone criticize Neve about “the choice” in Act 1 ever again.

I’m on my second play through for DAV, and one of the things I was most curious about was how the Act 1 choice changes the game. I’ve seen endless hate for Neve and the way she acts if you don’t save her city, and was curious if Lucanis is like weirdly graceful and forgiving about it by comparison.

lol, NOPE.

Here’s the thing, friends. Yes, Neve’s upset when you don’t go to her city, but Lucanis is so much worse about it AND HAS SO MUCH LESS JUSTIFICATION?!?

If you save Treviso:

You’re told upfront that the Venatori will take over if you don’t save Neve’s home. What you aren’t told is that their first order of business before you can even show up post-dragon is to immediately find and wipe out the Shadow Dragons. When you next visit the city, you’ll find a bit of damage from the dragon but there are literally corpses and gallows littering every street—many wearing Shadow Dragon uniforms. Every NPC that you meet at the Shadow Dragon headquarters is either dead or only shows up very occasionally for quests. The entire SD base is deserted, and they basically tell you that everyone but like four people have been killed. Keeping in mind, of course, that this is an org made up primarily of regular and poor people who are fighting against a corrupt regime to end slavery. That was their crime.

Oh, and to top it all off, Neve tells you that her own m little apartment was destroyed too. She has a whole conversation about how the Lighthouse is her only home and your team is most of her remaining family.

Even with all of this, even with how angry and grieving and hurt Neve is, she still forgives you. You can still fully romance her or raise her friendship high. You just have to work for it.

MEANWHILE…

If you save Minrathos:

To me, it sounded like it would be way worse. They put up a big show of how it’ll be mostly civilians who are harmed and how the water will be poisoned. Hence, the first time I did it, I went the other route and saved Treviso.

Except it’s comparatively not nearly as bad?!? The Crow headquarters is, by my count so far, missing only 3 people (Fletcher, Heir, and guy I am suddenly blanking on name who gives a couple quests). All the important Crows are not only still alive—they’re still exactly where you expect. They talk about how empty it is, but it’s really not very and outside in the courtyard it’s downright crowded with crows. Illario is alive and well (haven’t gotten to other surprise family member but I will be shocked if they aren’t also just fine). Teia and Viago are fine. Even Jacobus is so far just fine.

Lucanis still has a giant ass mansion, a fortune, his family, and the majority of the Crows. The Blight is presumably fixable by the end of the game (unlike the Venatori taking over), and the city shows a lot of signs it’ll recover just fine. The only corpses are from the dragon attack which would have really been there anyway despite what the game shows cause either way a big ass dragon attacked.

However, Lucanis becomes immediately dropped as a romance option if you don’t save his city. He reacts objectively more severely after losing far less.

To be clear, I don’t even mind him reacting that wqy! It makes sense if either of them do. What I mind is how many fans are channeling their internalized sexism into dissing my girl Neve.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[atinylittlepain]

Marcus Pike x f!reader

(there is no masterlist for this man, good luck to this man)

He's looking for something other than vanilla, and she is more than happy to provide such a service to him.

warnings | 18+ this is smut, pegging, rimming, sucking and fucking, sex work, lowkey sugardaddy!marcus, sweet shy marcus getting his world rocked, and then pancakes and a blackberry and a black american express card so ya know, the works.

a/n | this was written LAST MAY woof - i think originally it was supposed to be for the first round of the PMAMC (also woof) but she's here now :') special thanks to @wannab-urs for resurrecting this fucker. there is a part two... just sayin

..............................

The first thing she notices about him is that he’s nervous. He keeps loosening and tightening his tie, eyes glancing around in quick, anxious sweeps. He’s definitely never been here before, she would’ve remembered a face that handsome, strong jaw under a little scruff and big brown eyes that set a smile tugging at her lips when he finally meets her gaze. 

“Hey there, handsome, welcome in. First time?” His eyes drop down to the floor, a clipped laugh coming out as she steps closer to him.

“Am I that obvious?” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes crinkled in a shy smile that sets warmth spreading in her chest, bringing a delicate palm to his shoulder.

“Just never seen you around before, that’s all. What brings you to Pandora’s tonight?”

“Well, I, uh– I wanted to– um–” He cuts his own rambling off, jaw slack as he watches a man in head to toe latex walk by, being led on a leash by one of her coworkers. 

“Hey, don’t worry about them. I wanna know what you want. Would you feel more comfortable talking some more in one of our private rooms?” Eyelashes fluttering, spine arched, she knows exactly how to reel them in, noting the dip and bob of his throat as he nods.

“I– yeah, um, yes please.” Manners, she likes that. She slips her hand down his arm, taking his hand before turning heel and tugging him down the dark hallway, taking them into one of the vacant playrooms. It’s one of the tamer rooms, a four poster bed in the middle, red silk sheets, and a dark chest of drawers off to the side full of all sorts of fun. She guides him to sit down on the end of the bed beside her, his hands immediately going to his thighs in a nervous squeeze. His eyes are still darting everywhere, but mostly to the tops of her breasts, pressed up in the strappy leather corset she has on, though he doesn’t let his gaze linger there long before jerking his eyes back up to her face. 

“You don’t have to be nervous, baby. I just want to hear a little about why you came in, and how you’d like to be taken care of tonight, alright?” He nods, clearing his throat a few times before replying.

“I just– you gotta know that I’ve never done anything like this before, really. But, I don’t know, I guess I wanted to try something different? My, well my ex-wife, I think she thought I was too, um, vanilla. So I guess I want to– not be– um, vanilla anymore. And, Jesus Christ, you probably think I’m crazy, huh?” Somehow, he manages to still be handsome and look like a kicked puppy at the same time, and she has to resist the urge to push his flop of hair back and press a kiss to the crease between his brows.

“Not crazy at all. So when you say not vanilla, what does that mean to you?” When he gives her no answer, eyes only widening as he seems to wrack his brain for what to say, she laughs lightly, bringing a palm to his thigh and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Why don’t we start with the basics? Do you see yourself being more of a dom or a sub?” 

“I– what does that mean, dom and sub?” Oh boy, more basic than the basics then.

“Dom is shorthand for dominant, that’s the person in control in the relationship, and they’re usually the one inflicting any pain, if you’re into that. And sub means submissive, that’s the person who follows the dom’s commands, who gets taken care of.” 

“Oh, right, that makes sense. I mean, I don’t think I’d be very good at being in control like that, so I guess, more submissive?” I’ll say. She offers him a nod and smile, still trying to coax some of his anxiety out of him.

“Sounds good, handsome. If it’s alright with you, I can be your partner for the night. Let’s get some paperwork for you and then we can get started, ok?” He only nods, something she’s going to have to work on with him.

“For this to work, I’m gonna need you to always use your words with me, alright? That way I know exactly what you do and don’t like.” She says it to him over her shoulder as she rifles through the chest of drawers, getting out a waiver and a pen for him. 

“Uh, yes, ok, I can– I can do that.” She sits back down beside him with a hum, passing him the paperwork, watching his brow furrow as he reads over it.

“That’s a list of kinks we do and don’t participate in. Are there any that you’re particularly interested in exploring tonight?” Another clear of his throat, keeping his eyes glued to the paper when he responds.

“Do men– do men really like that? I mean, I’ve heard of it, but, does it feel good?” She looks over his shoulder to where his finger is pointing, her lips crooking into a smile when she sees what’s caught his attention.

“Mmhmm, it can be very pleasurable, with an experienced partner, of course.”

“And you– are you, um, experienced?” Her smile broadens into a grin at his question, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Oh baby, I’m very experienced. Is that something you’d like to try out tonight?” He seems to consider it, his eyes darting from her lips back up to her gaze a few times before he finally nods.

“Fuck it, yeah, I wanna do that. But is it ok if that’s the only thing we do on this list? I don’t think I’m really into the whole– chains and whips thing.” She laughs at that, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she nods.

“Whatever you want. Just need you to sign that waiver which basically affirms that we’re all clean here at Pandora’s, and you are too. You’re familiar with our pricing, right? It’s three hundred for an hour, and five for two.” 

“Is it ok if I do two?”

“You’re the customer, honey. What you say goes.” With a decisive nod, he ticks the box next to two hours on the form, signing his name on the dotted line before handing her back the pen and paper.

“Nice to officially meet you, Marcus. You can call me Daisy, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” As she sets the paperwork down on the chest of drawers, he lets out a light laugh, drawing her attention over her shoulder.

“That’s not your real name, is it?” Stepping out of her heels, she pads back over to him, standing right between his legs, setting down the items she grabbed before guiding his hands onto her hips.

“It’s not, is there something else you’d like to call me for the night?” He takes a sharp inhale as she drags his hands from her hips, up and up until his palms are cupping her breasts through her corset.

“I, um– Daisy’s good, yeah.” Letting her hands fall away from his, his eyes search hers, obvious in looking for permission that she’s happy to give.

“You can touch me, Marcus, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.” 

“Can I take this off of you?” His fingers are toying with the laced-up front of her corset, which she lightly bats away.

“It’s a little tricky, let me.” She makes deft work of unlacing the garment, a known path for her fingers that usually bores her, though there’s a little kick of something else, him watching her and the fine flicker of her hands. Marcus lets out a laugh at the grin she offers him, fizzling in his throat when she lets the corset fall away to reveal herself to him, standing before him in only her barely-there shorts. The heat of his hands just hovers over the swell of her breasts, and she can’t help the sigh that thrums in her throat when he finally lets his palms press against her skin. It’s not often that a client affects her like this, and she has to clear her throat to refocus on the real task at hand.

“Why don’t we get you out of your clothes? Sit back for me.” She’s undone dozens of ties, worked her fingers through miles of shirt buttons, and doesn’t even have to look to get trousers unfastened now, but she can’t shake the prickle running up her spine at the way his eyes follow every movement, and she can’t hide the shudder that runs through her when he tentatively tucks her hair behind her ear as she works his pants down his hips. 

“Have you been doing this for long?” She shoots him a look from her spot between his legs, his pants discarded to leave him in just his briefs.

“Are you really trying to make small talk?” Oh, he’s blushing now. She likes that, crawling closer and dipping her head down to press a kiss to the center of his chest before dragging her lips up and up, catching at the bob in his throat before letting her mouth just hover over his, feeling the shaky pants of his breath.

“There’s no need for that, Marcus. I’m gonna take care of you now, and I need you to tell me what you like, and what you don’t, do you understand?” His voice comes out a little hoarse, and she can feel the thrum of it where her chest is brushing against his.

“Yes, I understand.” A grin is all she gives him, ducking down before his lips can meet hers as she lets her mouth drag a trail down his torso until she’s nipping at the waistband of his briefs. 

“Can I take these off?” When all he does is nod, she gives his hip a light pinch, something between a laugh and a grunt jumping from his chest at the sensation.

“Yeah, you can take them off, I– sorry.” She smoothes her palm over the spot she pinched, smiling up at him.

“That’s ok, baby. Just remember your words for me.” He can’t be real, that’s all she can figure when she gets him totally bare before her, his cock a perfect pink that matches the flush on his chest, thick enough to set her jaw aching in anticipation, and long, pre-come smearing in the tuft of hair over his pelvis. She can’t help but wonder why the fuck anyone would ever want to leave him when he’s this pretty to look at. 

“Can I touch you? Get you warmed up for me?” He’s propped up on his elbows to watch her kneeling between his legs, lips swollen from how much he’s been biting them, slightly parted in something like wonder.

“Yeah, yes, please.” 

“Hmm, I like a boy with some manners. Just relax, Marcus, and remember, I’m here to take care of you.” With that, she presses a kiss just below his belly button, smiling against the twitch of his muscles before dipping down and letting her lips ghost over the underside of his cock. It’s involuntary, the hum she lets out when she takes him fully into the heat of her mouth, relaxing her throat like she’s learned to do, a necessary move in order to take all of him. And he’s perfect beneath her, thighs flexing under her splayed palms, low moans rumbling in his chest as she alternates between swallowing him down and lapping at his leaking tip. She knows she’s done her job, that she’s loosened him up, when those moans start to get a little louder, a little more drawn out, and he slumps down off his elbows to run a hand through his hair, eyes scrunched shut. A kiss over one hip, then the other, keeping her palm steady on his heaving belly while she reaches for the lube, his eyes squinting open to see why she stopped. 

“You ever used lube before?” 

“No, never needed to, I guess.” 

“Well it’s gonna be your best friend tonight. I’m gonna warm a little up in my palms and then I’ll let you get used to the feel of it, ok?” He hums out an mmhmm, watching her hands rub in quick circles, his eyes following the subtle shake of her breasts with the movement. And when she gets her hands on him again, slicking her palm up his cock, a hiss slips through his lips.

“Sorry, is it still cold?” 

“No, fuck– just feels really good.” She grins at that, letting her wrist flick, hand in an easy glide as she slips her palm down to cup the weight of his balls, his groan cracking and shooting up an octave, hips jolting at the sensation. 

“Has no one touched you like this before, baby?” 

“I– Jesus, no– no one’s done that before.” 

“Well that’s just not right. Feels good, huh?” A little squeeze to punctuate her question sets another moan loose in his chest as he presses his head back into the sheets.

“Y-yes, feels really good.” She nudges his thighs open a bit more, letting her hand slip down lower, not pressing, but circling, gauging how he reacts as she keeps her other hand easily stroking his cock. 

“Remember, need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t. We can stop at any time. Do you like what I’m doing right now?” His eyes are still shut tight, one hand fisted in his hair, the other tangled in the sheets, pleasure pulling his whole body taut.

“Yeah, I like it. It’s, hah– it’s different, good, different good.” His words go a bit slurred when she presses her finger forward, opening him up as he lets out another breathy moan. 

He takes it well, whimpers and moans crackling in his throat as she starts a steady thrust, only pausing to work a little more lube over her hand. 

“Doing so good for me, Marcus. You wanna try taking a little more?” He sits up on his elbows, surprising her a bit with his firm reply.

“I want more, want you to use that on me, please.” He tilts his head over to the strap laying on the end of the bed, once again catching her off guard.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” He tilts his head at her, a crooked smile on his face.

“Didn’t you say something about the customer always being right?” She lets out a real laugh at that, shaking her head at him as he just grins, clearly pleased with himself. 

“I guess so. Alright, handsome, why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me? We’ll take it nice and slow.” He seems a bit taken aback by that request, his smile going a little slack as she gets off the bed to step into her harness, though he catches himself, clearing his throat and shifting around on the bed into the position she asked for.

She can’t help herself, getting back on the bed and kneeling behind him, laying a quick pat to his very cute ass that has him craning his neck over his shoulder to look at her.

“Sorry, just looks so good I had to give it a little tap. You ready for me?” He hums his assent as she slicks her fake cock in lube, bringing one palm over his low back in a reassuring circle as she scoots in closer. 

“Just relax, Marcus, this is about you feeling good. That’s it, open up for me.” She works her strap in slow, curling over him to press her lips in a murmuring of praise into his shoulder blades as he whimpers beneath her, his hands fisted tight in the sheets. 

“How’re you feeling, baby? Is it too much? We can go back to what we–”

“No, no. I just– just need a minute, fuck– didn’t think it’d feel this good.” She’s not being professional about this, she knows it too, but she doesn’t care. A professional would be checking the clock, making sure that he gets his before his time is up. A professional wouldn’t be laying kisses over his shoulders, whispering to him that he’s doing so good, that he can take it, that he’s so pretty like this. But nothing about the way she wants him right now feels professional, the way she wants to take care of him, to make him feel good, to keep him feeling good for as long as she can.

“Just say the word. I move when you want me to.” 

Slow and smooth, nothing but patience and permission in how she fucks him, her hips slotting with his again and again and again, simmering down into a close press, her chest draped over his back and her hand working his cock in time with her thrusts when he finally unravels beneath her. He slumps down onto his forearms, a slur of curses punching out of his lungs as she runs her palms up and down his shuddering back. But what he does next is so unexpected she finds herself at the mercy of his movements. The moment she pulls her hips away from his, he turns over underneath her, still catching his breath as his hands find her hips, insistent and harsh in the way he pulls her down onto the bed. He’s certainly a sight, cheeks flushed and hair perfectly mussed up in every direction, his eyes blown dark and wide as he hovers over her.

“Can I take care of you now? Is that allowed?” A professional would say no, that his time is up, get him a towel and a glass of water and process his credit card.

She doesn’t say no.

He fumbles a bit with the straps of the harness, letting out an impatient groan that makes her giggle, quick to bat his hands away and make easy work of shimmying the whole thing down her legs. And the smile he gives her as she does is downright sheepish.

“That’s, uh, a bit tricky.” She brushes his hair back out of his face, thumb settling against the dimple in his cheek, a move that’s entirely too sweet and she knows it.

“Just a little. I’m all yours now though.” He doesn’t waste any time, ducking his head down to press a sweet kiss over the top of her breast that turns salacious when he slides his tongue down over the tight peak of her nipple, her back arching up into the heat of his mouth as he lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin. His hands are splayed around her hips, greedy and insistent in the way his fingers curl and press into her ass, lifting her hips up to slide her tiny shorts off her legs before he settles back between her thighs, his nose brushing against her twitching stomach, dark eyes flickered up to meet hers.

“Is this ok? Can I taste you? Make you feel good like that?” He steals a move from her book when all she does is nod, his hand that’s still curled around her hip laying a gentle pinch to the swell, his grin going boyish as she huffs out a laugh.

“Can I have your words, Daisy, please?” She tilts her head at his shy question, enjoying the flushed flare creeping up his cheeks.

“Hmm, you’re a fast learner, huh? Yeah, baby, I want your mouth, Want you to make me feel good.” 

It’s not that she had been expecting him to be bad at it. But she also hadn’t been expecting him to be so fucking good either. Head thrown back, thighs trembling around his scruff, moaning his name good. He’s not precious about it, licking a flat stripe through her cunt before letting his tongue catch on her clit in a harsh press, dipping back down to lap up the slick pooling at her entrance, a continuous circuit of pleasure that has every muscle in her body tensing up. He groans low in his chest when she rakes her fingers through his hair, tugging just a bit unkindly when his teeth graze her clit. One large palm snakes up to grasp at the swell of one of her breasts, his other hand pressed across her pelvis to keep her spasming hips still as he fucks her with his tongue, the strong hook of his nose dragging across her clit with each pass. And it hits her all at once, that snare of pleasure snapping hot and hard as she comes with a stilted moan of his name, her heel pressing between his shoulder blades, keeping him exactly where he is, and he continues to work her over as she comes undone on his mouth. 

She tugs at his hair again when it becomes too much, her hips jolting at the thrumming chuckle he lets out when he finally pulls away, resting his cheek against her hip while she tries to catch her breath. They lay like that for a hiccup of time, just staring at each other, a dazed smile on his glistening lips that she knows is mirrored in her own hazy grin. Eventually she lets out a long sigh, reaching out for him and thumbing away some of her arousal that’s smeared across his jaw. 

“Do you wanna, like, get a burger or something?”

“Is that– is that a part of my two hours?” “Oh baby, your two hours were up a while ago.”

…

He’s waiting for her right outside the club, and she mentally kicks herself for having worn sweats and a hoodie in for her shift earlier, though he doesn’t seem to mind, smiling big and broad when she steps outside to join him. 

“I know you said burgers, but there’s a diner around the corner that does the best pancakes in DC. Sound good to you?” She likes this version of him too, confident, certain, a bit old-fashioned with the way he holds his arm out for her to take like they didn’t just wreck each other a few moments ago, letting her hold onto him the whole walk over to the diner, opening the door for her, the whole chivalric production.

It’s so late at night, they’re virtually the only people in the place, tucking into a cracked vinyl booth and putting in their order, pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon, the works. And they share every last bite, having both clearly worked up an appetite after their evening together.

Though he’s vague about it, she can suss out for herself that he’s some sort of higher-up government type, she knows them well, and in turn, she answers his questions about her, that her work at Pandora’s is good enough to be supporting her through college, Marcus seeming to perk up when she tells him she’d like to be an art teacher one day. He’s older than her, at least enough to have already been married and divorced, but she can’t find it in herself to care about that, too busy enjoying their easy conversation, the subtle game of footsie they have going on under the table, and the way he smiles at her, all of his attention on her. It’s so strange, so different, so starkly contrasted to the way her nights usually go, not that she minds the simple rotation of disinterested clients, but she hasn’t had someone look at her, really look at her the way Marcus is, in quite a while. 

“I have to admit, I wasn’t really expecting my night to end like this.” Plates long cleared, each of them nursing a mug of coffee as the first sweeps of dawn start to light up the streets outside, she smiles at his admission.

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” He grins at her question, leaning in on his elbows like he has the wildest secret to tell her.

“Really good surprise. I mean, I just think you’re– amazing. Fuck, is that weird of me to say?” She mirrors him, leaning in on her elbows, a smile threatening to quirk her lips.

“Hmm, no, it’s cute. For the record, I think you’re kinda amazing too.” Their faces are so close, and she realizes all at once that she hasn’t even kissed him yet.

“Only kinda, huh? Guess I didn’t do my job then.” She can almost feel the curve of his smile as she laughs at his simpering response, the sound getting swallowed when he closes the space between them, pressing his lips to hers. And he’s good at this too, his palm coming to cup her jaw, thumb stroking along her cheek as he deepens the kiss, licking into her mouth and nearly melting her on the spot. Though it’s over too soon for her liking when they get interrupted by someone clearing their throat in front of their table, pulling away to see the rather annoyed looking waitress setting their check down and shuffling away with a sour side-eye. She opens her mouth to protest when Marcus reaches for his wallet, but he waves his hand, black American Express glinting in the diner’s fluorescent lights.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, I’ve got it. It’s the least I can do after going over my two hours.” She can tell he means it as a joke, a flippant remark, but her stomach still sinks at even the suggestion of this still being a business transaction. It’s a sore spot for her, and though she’s more than comfortable with the work she does, her exes hadn’t been, nor had they been kind about it for that matter.

Busy signing the check, Marcus doesn’t notice the way her face falls, and she’s already out of the booth and halfway out the door of the diner when he finally calls out for her, further rubbing salt in the wound when the name he uses is Daisy. 

“Woah, woah, hey, what happened in there?” The hand he hooks around her bicep is gentle but insistent, and she can’t help the tears threatening to spill over when he turns her around to look at him in the faint morning light.

“Look, if that’s all this is to you, just business, that’s fine, but I have enough respect for myself to not–” He cuts her off, bringing his broad palm to cup her cheek again, his eyes wide and unwavering.

“Hey, that’s not what this is– I mean, at least not anymore. We did meet under some, ah, particular circumstances. But this isn’t business to me now, if that’s ok with you?” He thumbs away her stray tears, and she nearly goes dizzy with the relief she feels hearing those words from him. 

“I’m sorry, baby, it was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t even thinking.” Baby, it’s the second time he’s called her that. She’s never anyone’s baby, they’re always hers, but she likes it now, coming from him, finding herself smiling into his touch.

“I don’t want you to call me Daisy.” His eyes soften, smile tempering as he nods.

“Ok, what should I call you?” She tells him her real name, and with it, the last shred of her professionalism dissolves, and she doesn’t care one bit. He says her name like he’s rolling a hard candy around in his mouth, slow sugar in each syllable before he presses a kiss between her brows, lips trailing down to catch hers in a sweet smack. 

“Can I see you again? And, definitively not as, um, as business?” It makes her laugh, how quickly he shifts between confidence and constraint. She likes both. 

“I would really really like that, Marcus. Am I giving you my number or are you giving me yours?” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, like he’s surprised she actually wants that, though he’s quick to catch himself, clearing his throat and smiling.

“Uh, both? Both is good, right?” They swap phones, and she can’t help thinking to herself that of course this man has a Blackberry, stifling a giggle as she types in her number. 

“Can I walk you to your car? It’s back at the club, right?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a car, actually. Just take the bus to get around.” He doesn’t seem to like that, lips pressing into a thin line as he looks at her.

“How about I get you home this morning? Would that be ok?” Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t dream of getting into the car of a man she just met, but seeing as she’s already broken a dozen of her cardinal rules with him, she doesn’t think twice about getting into his sleek BMW that’s still parked outside the club. He keeps a palm splayed just above her knee, thumb idly swiping back and forth, a soothing lull as she gives him directions toward her apartment complex. She hates to admit it to herself, but she’s a bit reluctant to get out when he does pull up to her building, leaning over the console for a kiss that he willingly gives her. 

“So I’ll call you?” She lays a kiss to the small patch in his scruff, smiling against his skin when he lets out a huff.

“I’ll answer. Thank you, Marcus, for a really nice night, and morning.”

When she gets inside her apartment, she slumps back against the door, blowing out a long exhale and shaking her head.

“Fuck.” Her boss is going to kill her, but she doesn’t really care. 

[capnsupernova]

The Death of Batman

Four years. Four years since the streets of Gotham have seen Batman. Four years since the Justice League has seen Batman. Four years since the Robins have seen Batman.

And now he stands, in full gear, mask and cape and all, in front of a podium in broad daylight with a microphone in his face, surrounded by cameras. The audience is still. No one dares make a sound. No one dares ask why, after all this time, he is here now. No one dares to say it, but he’s different than they imagined he’d be. He is tall, yes, and his shoulders broad and sturdy enough to carry the whole weight of the world, but they see his weariness etched in the lines of his mouth, the only part of his face they have ever been able to see. For the first time, they see, not some cryptid of the night meting out justice, but a man. Just a man in a suit. No one dares say it, but he looks tired.

For a long time, he is silent.

When he does speak, his voice is softer than they expect—tinged with the first hints of age.

“I have watched this city for so long.”

The people of Gotham hold their breath.

“For so long, I have been your knight, your judge, your hero…. No, not your hero. It’s been a long time since I’ve been anyone’s hero.” He sighs and all the burdens of darkness and justice escape with his breath. “I am so tired.”

His enemies wait in the shadows. Everyone knows they’re there, waiting for an opportunity. Never has Batman announced his presence so publicly. Never has he handed himself so neatly to them, and with so many potential hostages and casualties around his stage. But they find themselves frozen. This is not the voice they know, not the gruff growl that haunts their nightmares. He is tired. They hear that, and this is familiar in a different way. They have all, villain and civilian alike, felt this exhaustion themselves. And so, they wait to see what he will say next.

“I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I don’t know if I’ve ever done the right thing. My children are hurting. I have hurt my children.” His voice catches. He takes a moment, looks up at the sky, blue and cloudless and bright. “I just want them to come home.”

He pauses, head tilted upwards before looking back at the people of Gotham, people he saved, people he fought and locked away—all of them, in one way or another, people that he has tried to help. People he has tried to protect.

“The Batman,” he says, “is retiring.”

Somewhere, a pin drops, and the echoes reverberate around the world. No one notices, but in the crowd, among reporters, a tall, barrel-chested man with dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses smiles. It’s a small smile, a twitch of the lips. He meets Batman’s eyes over the tops of the heads of Gotham’s citizens. He nods, barely perceptible, and the man behind the black mask stands just a little taller.

“That is all. Thank you.”

And just like that, Batman is gone. No one stops him as he walks off the stage. No one stops him as their Dark Knight, their strange and mysterious vigilante, disappears into the shadows and out of their lives forever.

--

The first to return is Jason. He knocks on the door with all the casual confidence of Gotham’s premier crime boss, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, eyes so green they may as well be glowing.

When Bruce opens the door, he looks the old man up and down. “I’m assuming my old room is still available?” His smile is half-cocked and arrogant as ever, but there’s uncertainty furrowed in the space between his brows. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t see it at all.

Bruce sees it. And of all the things Jason excepts—the door slammed in his face, all the security systems of Wayne manor targeting his chest and head, a lecture at the very least—what he doesn’t expect are the tears that well up in Bruce’s eyes. He doesn’t expect to be wrapped tightly in his strong arms, arms that feel so much smaller than he remembers.

“Oh my boy,” Bruce whispers into his chest. “Oh my sweet, strong boy. I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re home.”

And it’s too much. The man behind the red hood, the man who beat Tim within an inch of his life, the man who shot Damien in the back in an effort to kill his own pain, crumples. In his father’s arms he is reduced to that 15-year-old boy who died and came back to life. The 15-year-old boy who, after all this time, only ever wanted to come home.

--

The rest showed up one by one that very same day. Dick showed up first with Tim and Damien in tow, surprised—not that Jason was there—but that he had beat him home. Then Barbara, Duke, Stephanie. It wasn’t long before the house was full of every single Robin and Batgirl who ever passed through these halls. Draped over chairs and couches (or, in Dicks case, swinging from the chandelier in the foyer while Tim and Damien did their best to use him—unsuccessfully—as target practice).

Not much changed in Gotham, after that. The villains didn’t retire with Batman, just as they didn’t disappear with Batman four years ago. But neither were they given free reign of the city, for Batman had ensured so, so long ago that there would always be someone to protect his home and his people. Gotham would always have their symbols of hope, their bats of blue and red and green and purple and yellow. New symbols that filled the night with a rainbow of colors.

And when their work was done, they returned to the manor, where their father would dress their wounds, mend their capes, and make them heaping piles of pancakes and eggs (“Yes, Dami, you have to finish the eggs. I won’t have some villain getting the better of you because you don’t have enough protein in your system”) with bowls of fruit and fresh squeezed orange juice. Bruce was, at the very least, a better cook than Alfred had been.

Things weren’t perfect. There were wounds that couldn’t be healed with a simple hug and a few tears. Wounds that would take years of therapy and hard talks and patience to fully close over. Bruce never told them where he’d been for those four years, and they never asked. This was the beginning of something entirely new for all of them.

But for the first time since anyone could remember, the sun shined bright and warm over the city of Gotham.

--

Writer’s Note:

This is an idea I have debated with close friends—the retirement of Batman. The main issue boils down to this: what becomes of Gotham without their symbol of hope? And to me, the answer is simple. Nothing. Because Batman is no longer their only symbol of hope. He hasn’t been for a long time, since he first took in Dick Grayson, that colorful bird of a boy. I think, in all honesty, that this is the true purpose of the Robins. Maybe Bruce himself didn’t realize it at the time, but he always hoped for something brighter for Gotham than Batman. Bruce has always been a reflection of Gotham. “The hero they deserve.” In a way, by taking in each sidekick, he adds another possibility, not just for the people of Gotham, but for himself too. A brighter future. Isn’t this what we all hope for our children?

[eggedbellies]

This is an idea I’ve RPd with people (and would love to again if anyone wanted to…) and i just cannot stop thinking about.

The idea of men, instead of carrying seminal fluid and sperm in their testicles, carried eggs. They’re small and unfertilized, but must be spent every month or they’ll grow larger and potentially cause complications. Public sex and public laying of these eggs has become acceptable.

You meet a guy on a dating website, purely for sex. He comes over, and soon thereafter you’re making out on the couch and he comes clean. He reveals a massive set of testicles, full of eggs, likely from 3 or 4 months of build up. He came over with the intention of filling you up with them. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and before you know it you’re being bent over your kitchen counter with his cock in your pussy.

It’s not long before he pauses, a groan on his lips as eggs start pouring out of him. You can feel them, one by one, as they stretch you passing through him. Your hand cradles your belly as it slowly grows with the eggs being placed inside. By the time he’s done (and you’ve cum a time or two) you have the belly of a 4 month pregnancy. You exchange numbers and he walks away.

About a week or two later, the eggs have grown and grown. You’re waddling around with the belly of a 10 month pregnancy with triplets. You feel the sexiest you have ever felt. But, the time has come to lay your eggs.

You go to a public park, set up underneath a tree in the back, and strip. You’re completely naked, legs spread open, and start to push. The eggs come one after one, much larger than when they went into you. By the time you’re done, you’ve laid 30 unfertilized eggs. A small crowd has gathered to watch you, some men slowly rubbing their cocks. And among the crowd is the man who put the eggs inside of you in the first place, ready to put another clutch in you right then and there.

(I held onto this one a while just to keep reading it ngl. god.)

I'd heard of men who did this. It had never held much interest to me, before; sure, I'd been tempted, now and again, in a few relationships, to take their eggs - but I was always a little shy. And I always had work, or maybe personal hangups... maybe that was why I'd never held a relationship for long. And those strange guys, the ones who liked their balls being packed and tender, who wanted to stretch people out... I'd never really understood until I met him.

And they'd looked so good on him, so heavy and full. Slapping against my clit with each thrust. The stretch, god, I'd never felt anything like it, and with the noises he and I were making, it felt like animal breeding. He must have loved it as much as me. How my shirts didn't fit quite right, forced to wear loose jumpers until I could get some maternity wear, the fascinated stares of people clearly wondering how I could possibly be so late term and yet not have them already...

I'm glad it's summer, because even my normal tops are rapidly becoming crop tops. It's hard work to heft my body about. Everything has widened to help with the weight. People come over and ask how far in I am and I try to be vague but not moan whenever they ask to rub and feel the clutch (and I can't help but say yes.)

As the last egg is popping out, and bystanders come to help scoop up the clutch, offer to call my partner, take me to the hospital, whatever I need, I shake my head. I know what I need. Call him from the crowd. There are murmurs, of course, but my body is still shaking with pleasure. We drop the clutch off. Waddle home. Pin him to the wall, all mouth and tongue, biting at skin and clutching at each other, drag him upstairs... and grasp his cock firmly.

Before clipping the cage around it.

Because these last few weeks, I realised just how good that felt. And I grin, even as his eyes widen in alarm. "How long did you wait last time?" I whisper against his neck. "Four months." he murmurs back. "I think we can wait for six." I grin, stroking his balls, before stepping back and admiring how good the cage looks on his thick cock. "Then we can see how big I can really get, hm?"

[twistedtummies2]

Top 6 Epic Mickey Characters

Today is the release of the new “Rebrushed” Edition of a game I loved a ton growing up: “Epic Mickey.” I was OBSESSED with this game when it came out way back in 2010, and at the time it came out, it was treated as a big deal! There was a ton of merchandising and advertisement for this title, more so than you would get for most Disney games, and it’s not hard to see why: the game promised to provide a different kind of adventure for Mickey Mouse, with a darker tone and a focus on more obscure Disney characters and old cartoons. Nowadays, in hindsight, I feel the game could have gone even further than it did (and, apparently, the creators WANTED it to go further than it did, but either due to budget constraints, corporate meddling, or a bit of both, they couldn’t), but I still have a huge soft spot for it. It’s probably my favorite thing to feature Mickey Mouse as a heroic character, and it still has a notable cult following. Ironically for a game that focused on the obscure and the forgotten, the game itself sort of faded into obscurity for a while; despite the release of two sequels (namely a console follow-up called “Power of Two,” and a portable spin-off called “Power of Illusion”), the franchise sort of fizzled out pretty quickly, and for a long time it was seen as naught but an unusual footnote in the history of Disney and its presence in gaming. To celebrate the return of this game to store shelves (and, I believe, online distribution), I decided to do a quick rundown of my Top 6 characters from the games. Why Top 6, you may ask? Simple: because after six, it all gets kerbobbled. It’s harder for me to choose and rank characters beyond that point, simply because who I favor among them changes depending on my mood and how recently I’ve revisited portions of the game. My Top 6, however, have consistently been my Top 6 - both in terms of choices and ranking - pretty much from day one, and I don’t think will ever change, so they’re the ones I feel most comfortable discussing. Also, I’m going to attempt to avoid spoilers with this list, so I’m going to keep focused as much as possible on the first game, with less emphasis on the sequels. (Fortunately, all six characters appear in the first game, though some of the Honorable Mentions are from later titles.) I'll also try to avoid giving away too many of the twists in the plot, for those who will be playing Epic Mickey for the first time via this Rebrushed Edition. With that said, let’s dive into the Wasteland! These are My Top 6 Favorite Characters from Epic Mickey!

6. Pete.

What many people may not realize about Mickey’s famed arch-enemy is that Pete is actually the single longest-lasting recurring Disney character in history. Pete doesn’t just predate Mickey himself, he even predates Oswald the Lucky Rabbit: the character first showed up as a recurring villain in the silent animation/live-action hybrid “Alice Comedies,” with his first appearance dating back to 1925. That’s a whole three years before Mickey, and two years before Oswald! It’s therefore not entirely surprising to see Pete in the Wasteland, especially since the character has had so many different guises and roles throughout his long history…a fact that Epic Mickey takes humorous advantage of. You see, there isn’t just ONE Pete in the Epic Mickey universe. Oh, no. There are no less than FOUR. “Pete Prime” (the one picture here) is Big Bad Pete, who appears to be the town sheriff of Mean Street. Next there’s Small Pete, who lives in the Gremlin Village and is comically dressed up like a little Dutch girl doll. Then there’s Petetronic, who is basically what you’d get if Pete cosplayed as Commander Sark and is the head of Tomorrow City. Finally, there’s Pete Pan: a parody of Peter Pan who flies around Ventureland, mostly spending his time annoying the Wasteland’s version of Captain Hook. Interestingly, most of these Petes seem to be relatively nice characters, rather than real menaces to toon society…but be careful: a character with such a long and checkered past may not always be trustworthy.

5. Gremlin Gus.

Of all the characters left stranded and forgotten in the Wasteland, the Gremlins are easily the most obscure of the bunch. The characters were conceived in the mind of Roald Dahl - the author best known for his works of children’s literature, such as “The BFG” and “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Dahl wrote a story simply called “The Gremlins” that was going to be transformed into a Disney movie…but for various reasons, the film never came to pass. The book itself has fallen into utter obscurity, and the scrapped project is largely unknown by even the most ardent Disney fans: I, myself, only knew of the Gremlins prior to Epic Mickey because of a paper ad for a re-release of the book in the early 2000s. In “Epic Mickey,” however, the Gremlins are a major part of the universe: since the movie was never really a thing, and the book is so little-known nowadays, the creators of the game were able to create their own twist on the Gremlins unique to this world. They are essentially the custodians of the Wasteland, performing a variety of jobs and services to keep the place ship-shape. The most prominent of them all is their leader, Gus. Gremlin Gus is a sort of “Papa Smurf” figure for the Gremlins, and acts as Mickey’s guide through the games, providing bits of advice and various hints along the rodent’s journey. Think of him along the lines of the Cheshire Cat from the American McGee’s Alice games, or one of Link’s many companions (such as Navi, Midna, or Fi) from The Legend of Zelda. In the first game, the vocal effects for Gremlin Gus were provided by veteran voice actor Bob Joles. In “Power of Two,” Gus was given a proper speaking voice, provided by none other than the Dread Pirate Roberts himself, Cary Elwes…and I can’t help but think such casting is why they perhaps gave Gus a few TOO MANY lines in the sequel, buuut that’s another story for another time.

4. Mickey Mouse.

I debated whether or not to give Mickey a place in the ranks of his own, for various reasons, but after some deliberation…yeah. I think he’s earned it in this case. As I said in the preamble, this is probably my favorite thing made to feature Mickey himself, and Mickey is part of that. This is one of those rare occasions where the premise of the story largely results from Mickey’s own actions and inactions, rather than the machinations of some other scoundrel: it is due to Mickey’s own foolery that the Phantom Blot and the Thinner Disaster are created. It is due to Mickey’s popularity that Oswald and several other characters in the Wasteland are forgotten to begin with. Now, Mickey has to essentially remember and salvage the very things that are in ruin because of him. The game plays around with this idea of saving and destroying through its chief mechanic: the magic paintbrush Mickey uses can destroy things by shooting streams of hyper-acidic thinner, or create through use of an enchanted paint. Different obstacles can be overcome by different uses of the two tools, and some can be dealt with in multiple ways: choice is a key factor of Mickey’s story, as well as the player. Originally, the game makers wanted to go even further with this idea, with the player’s decisions making Mickey more good or more evil throughout the story, but while the final result may be toned down from their initial schemes, I think it still works brilliantly. Mickey is still the fun-loving hero we all recognize, but there’s that little bit of mischief and extra depth to the character present because of this idea of choice and the way he’s depicted. The sequels continued these ideas, with choice remaining a major part of the story in “Power of Two” once more, and paint and thinner still being equally useful in “Power of Illusion.” Bottom line: move over, Kingdom Hearts. THIS is how you make Disney’s most recognizable rodent into an action-ready gaming star.

3. The Phantom Blot.

This character is the main antagonist of the original Epic Mickey, and has been referred to by multiple names: Shadow Blot, Storm Blot, King Blot, or simply “The Blot.” Whatever you call this character, I’ll always refer to him as “The Phantom Blot,” since that is who the character basically is meant to be. In Disney comics and cartoons, the Blot has been an enemy of Mickey Mouse for many years - dating back to the 1940s, in fact. Typically, he’s depicted as a campy supervillain; a costumed criminal mastermind garbed in an inky cloak and cowl. However, in “Epic Mickey,” the Blot is reimagined as something far more monstrous: a creature made of ink, accidentally formed by Mickey when he meddled with some magic in Yen Sid’s workshop, the Blot is the cause of all the misery going on in the Wasteland. This Blot eventually turns out to be bigger than a castle, and able to send out swarms of “bloticles” to literally drain the life from the Wasteland. The Blot is intelligent, but not complex: he has no purpose other than to destroy, and longs to take Mickey’s heart, since only toons with hearts can leave the Wasteland. With that power, he can venture forth and continue to devour other worlds of their energy and life. I had heard of the Phantom Blot before Epic Mickey, but I really didn’t know much about the character: this radical reinvention, for a kid, was quite the introduction. And while I’ve since looked into the ACTUAL Phantom Blot and found great joy in his exploits, I still enjoy this reimagining. In my opinion, the Blot is one of the best video game villains of all time; more a force of cruel nature than anything else, he is a terrifying beast few players will ever forget.

2. The Mad Doctor.

So, here’s something interesting to note: out of all the “forgotten” characters featured in Epic Mickey, I actually knew almost all of them when the game came out. Some of them I knew pretty well, others I didn’t but I had at least heard of before the game’s release. The one exception to this rule was this guy: the Mad Doctor. The Doc was the titular antagonist of the Mickey Mouse cartoon “The Mad Doctor” from 1933 - one of the few Disney cartoons that’s actually managed to fall into the public domain. Many consider it to be one of the darkest Mickey cartoons ever made, and in “Epic Mickey,” the infamous mad scientist has not mellowed much with age. It’s explained that the Mad Doctor, when he first came to the Wasteland, was seemingly a friendly figure, and became an ally to Oswald. He was considered one of Oswald’s best friends, in fact. However, it’s ultimately revealed that the Mad Doctor was always just as wicked as he was in the cartoon; biding his time till he could make a grab for power. When the Blot came to the Wasteland, in the wake of the Thinner Disaster, the Mad Doctor turned on the good people of the kingdom, creating an army of cartoon cyborgs called “Beetleworx” (part toon, part machine) to help conquer everything. There’s a lot more I could say about the Mad Doctor that makes him interesting - especially in regards to the sequel games and a few twists in the launch title - but since I’m trying to avoid spoilers, I think it’s best I save a lot of that for another time. Suffice it to say, this was a great introduction to a great villain and a great cartoon, and I’m glad that Epic Mickey was able to give a little bit more attention to the Mad Doctor for modern audiences.

1. Oswald the Lucky Rabbit.

Oswald was the main reason I got so interested in Epic Mickey so long ago, and was, in fact, more or less the reason the game happened to begin with. One of Walt Disney’s earliest creations, Oswald - who was the inspiration for not only Mickey himself, but also Bugs Bunny of WB fame in real-life - was the world’s first major cartoon star. After copyright issues led to Walt Disney breaking away from Universal Studios, and forming his own company, Oswald rapidly declined in popularity, and eventually pretty much vanished off the face of the Earth. In the real world, when Disney bought the rights to Oswald back from Universal many years later, this immediately transitioned into using him in a big (marketable) way, which led to the idea of Epic Mickey. Warren Spector (head of the team behind the game) became interested the instant Oswald was mentioned, being a huge animation buff, and as production went on, Oswald became a richer and richer character. In early concepts of the game’s story, he was actually going to be one of the main villains of the story, but by the time the game came out, he had transformed into the secondary protagonist. In the fictional story of the games, Oswald is the ruler of the Wasteland…but unlike others who are more or less happy with their existence, Oswald’s feelings of dejection have steadily consumed him. He is portrayed as Mickey Mouse’s long-lost brother; he resents the fame and fortune Mickey got, while he was basically left to rot. He is so obsessed that he creates a place called Mickeyjunk Mountain, where he spends countless hours brooding over his failures and his lost family, surrounded by remnants of Mickey’s fame that span decades; everything from bubble gum machines to NES game cartridges. The adventure in the Wasteland gives Mickey a chance to not only connect with his past and save the world, but to reconnect with and save Oswald, too. It’s the relationship between Oswald and Mickey, beyond all else, that makes the games so powerful, and Frank Welker - who provided Oswald’s vocal effects/voice in all the games - gives probably one of my favorite performances in his entire career. And keep in mind, this is the guy who played characters like Megatron, Garfield, Mr. Mxyzptlk, Fred AND Scooby from various takes on Scooby-Doo, and more “creature voices” than you can shake a stick at. To call this among his best is saying a LOT. For both his fictional prominence and historical significance, it’s no surprise that I name Oswald the Lucky Rabbit as My Favorite Epic Mickey Character. Case closed.

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

The Three Little Pigs.

Horace Horsecollar.

Gremlin Prescott.

Clarabelle Cow.

Captain Hook.

[pearlescent-poppies]

Hello Hello Hello!!!!

And welcome to my 12 Days Of Christmas event!!!

What is this?

Well I’m so glad you asked!

I have four wonderful, incredible, and amazing friends (@theseusmc, @tazzomi, @valeriistars, @starrysilv3rse) I was trying to figure out how to give Christmas gifts seeing as they’re online and I came up with this: For the 12 days leading up to Christmas I’m posting a fic of one of their top three favourite (mcyt, because you know how we do it over here) ships! Each fic also has a “prompt” and they’ll get more and more Christmasy as time goes on!

I felt so smart coming up with this, and honestly I still think it’s brilliant. 12/4=3 after all so really it couldn’t have been more perfect! Whoever said gays can’t do math was clearly wrong (lol).

To my friends: I sincerely hope you all enjoy this, it was so fun for me to create and despite how absolutely suspicious I’ve been I hope you didn’t catch on too much. I’ve been excited to start posting this since right before Halloween when I came up with it on a call! I mean- it only felt right to give you guys a bunch of silly fics since I’ve become a much better writer thanks to your help. And- I know I say it all the time, but I really do love you guys so very much and I hope this silly little thing I put together can further prove just how much I mean it. You all mean the world to me <3

To everyone else: I hope you enjoy the Christmasy fics and the excitement of daily posting which is crazy! So crazy actually! Any support means the world to me and if you did enjoy, I would really appreciate either comments or reblogs on here or on AO3. Share your thoughts with me! I live for that.

Anyways, without further ado I give you:

GemPearl: Snowball Fight

For: @tazzomi

I hope you enjoy this Tazz! And if you don’t, don’t tell me /vsilly

(Fic underneath the cut)

“Pearl, Pearl, Pearl, Pearl!” Gem runs up to her girlfriend excitedly. The Christmas season is getting underway and Hermitcraft has just seen its first snow. Snow has always been the elf’s favourite weather, and she wanted to celebrate the first snowfall with her favourite person in the whole world.

“Yes, Gem?” Pearl giggles. She’s been waiting for Gem to come bug her all morning.

“It snowed! It finally snowed!” she shouts excitedly as she bounces on her heels.

“It did!” She matches Gem’s enthusiasm. Pearl watches lovingly as Gem waves her hands around in her elation. The avian thinks her girlfriend looks especially pretty in this moment, cheeks flushed pink from the cold and bundled up in her green coat. She’d foregone her usual skirt and swapped it for brown trousers, though she looks as beautiful as ever.

The red head takes a deep breath, the air cold in her lungs; when she breathes out it’s with a white puff. “Come celebrate with me?” she asks.

“Of course! I don’t think my base is the place for it though,” Pearl smiles and reaches out to intertwine their hands.

“My base then?”

“Sounds perfect,” Pearl agrees and connects their lips for a chaste moment before they begin their short walk.

———

They had been enjoying the scenery for a while now, hand in hand as they meandered down the paths of Gem’s little kingdom. It’s gorgeous like this in the snow but well- the peace could only last for so long.

Pearl gives her girlfriend an inquisitive look as she lets go of her hand. The taller watches with a small smile as Gem walks off the path and into a much snowier area. When she bends over, back to Pearl, and reaches down, she figures it’s so Gem could feel the snow in her gloved hands.

Colour Pearl surprised when Gem whips around and throws a snowball at her. It hits right in the dead center of her chest just as Gem doubles over in laughter at her shocked expression, “Ha! I got you!” She teases with a shout.

After she recovers, Pearl laughs and darts somewhere opposite Gem, “Oh you’re on,” She starts to make a snowball as fast as she can, but not quick enough before two more hit her in rapid succession.

Then comes Pearl’s first snowball, barely making her mark. It hits the elf’s arm and causes her to squeal. The avian’s wings flutter with her laughter, oh this is so much fun, she thinks; and quickly sets to making more snowballs.

———

They run around pelting snow at each other for a whole half an hour. Smiles never leaving their faces and bright laughter ringing through the area. It’s the best way to spend a day. In the company of their other half, causing chaos, and laughing so much it hurts.

They finally pause, looking at each other with eyes full of adoration as they come down from the rush of the last while.

Though- Pearl does have one last trick up her sleeve. She inches her way steadily towards her girlfriend, trying to will her wings to keep her inconspicuous, as she throws one final snowball with all her might.

Gem doesn’t notice till it’s too late, and the thing is making contact with her face. She falls to the ground, blinking a few times from the impact. It hadn’t been quite hard enough to knock her to the ground, that was the shock more than anything. She’s giggling again soon after though, laying on the ground and letting the cold snow dampen her hair.

“Oh stars! Gem! I’m so sorry!” Pearl shouts and runs over to where the elf is lying on the ground.

As soon as Pearl is close enough Gem pulls her to the ground with her. With Pearl now over top of her and looking more concerned than she should, Gem giggles softly as she cups her face in her hands, “It’s okay! You didn’t mean to. It was fun regardless.”

“But I-” the avian frowns, the tightness of her little headwings giving away just how sorry she is.

“Nuh uh,” Gem says with a fond roll of her eyes. She connects their lips shortly after, a much longer kiss than the one they’d shared over an hour ago. The contact is a warm contrast to the cold surrounding them on all sides. It’s nice, and they both melt into it until it’s broken by too broad smiles and… the trickle of something wet?

Pearl’s mouth forms an o shape as she takes in the sight of blood trickling from Gem’s nose.

“Oh my stars, Gem you’re bleeding,” she whines and wipes at the trail.

“I’m fine! It could’ve been from the cold too, my nose gets dry. You know that!” She brushes it off.

“I think that means it’s time to go inside,” she Pearl sighs and gets off of Gem.

Once they’re both standing and dusted off of snow, Pearl sweeps her into a bridal carry, ignoring Gem’s surprised squeak.

“Pearl! I’m fine!” She laughs even as she wraps her arms around her neck.

“Well what if I just wanna hold my girlfriend then, hm?” She inquires with a raised eyebrow and a partly mischievous grin.

“Guess I can’t complain then,” she sighs and tries not to wipe at her nose, knowing it’ll stain the white gloves she’s wearing.

“Your place?” The brunette asks as she begins walking.

“Mhm, that sounds good. Oh! We can have hot chocolate! Only way to end a snow day y’know,” she hums and lays her head on Pearl’s shoulder. Just because she’s a very strong woman, thank you very much, does not mean she doesn’t want to be carried around by her equally strong girlfriend. That would be silly when Pearl is so warm and comfortable, god she’s gay.

The red head giggles to herself at her own thoughts and winks when Pearl asks her about it. She mutters something along the lines of, ‘Oh just you’, and settles in for the short walk to her castle.

———

Once inside Pearl sets Gem on the couch, then briskly walks to the kitchen. Once there, she fills a kettle with water and sets it on the furnace (which had already been lit) to boil. She also dampens a towel before rejoining Gem who from the looks of it, had just taken off her coat and shoes.

Even with blood running from her poor nose she’s the picture of beauty and elegance. Red curls tied in a braid that falls over her shoulder just right and her off the shoulder shirt that shows off the milky skin of her collarbone and chest area. When she gets closer, she sees the little gold snowflake necklace she’d gifted her girlfriend a while before they’d joined Hermitcraft. She loves her more than words can describe.

“C’mere,” Pearl calls softly, still in the throes of her admiration as she sits down next to Gem. She uses one hand to cup Gem’s face, and one to delicately wipe the blood from her face with the damp towel.

They both sit there in silence, just enjoying the quiet and each other’s presence. Gem’s the one to break first, “Thank you,” she murmurs, “For hanging out with me today and just- well for everything really. I love you Pearlie.”

“I love you too Gemmy, and you don’t need to thank me. I do it because I love you,” she giggles and sets the towel down so she can lean in.

Just as their lips are about to connect again, the kettle starts whistling. Pearl groans dramatically and stands, “We’ll continue this in a second,” she giggles.

After re-entering the kitchen, Pearl expertly takes two matching mugs from a cupboard and pours boiling water in each. Next, she takes chocolate powder mix and stirs both of the drinks together. After topping with marshmallows, they’re good to go!

She takes the mugs in her hands carefully and walks back to where Gem is still sitting. Her girlfriend's eyes light up as she claps excitedly causing Pearl to smile wider. She hands her mug as soon as she’s close enough, and before settling in herself, her mug goes on the coffee table so she can grab a blanket. The fireplace is already burning strong, but the extra fluffy blanket will be a nice layer anyways, especially seeing as they were out in the cold for so long.

Pearl lifts Gem slightly as she sits down. Once her girlfriend is comfortable in her lap, blanket covering both of their legs, and limbs all tangled together, Pearl loosely settles her wings around the both of them. She places a kiss on her cheek and finally takes her own mug in her still cold hands.

Gem hums at the taste of her hot chocolate and melts into Pearl behind her. “This is perfect, I love you,” she says with a smile.

“I love you too, and yeah, it really is.”

They stay like that for the rest of the day, empty cups long discarded in favour of cuddling closer. Warm and safe in the arms of their lover.

[scarscribblesstuff]

Shadows and Shades

Fandom: Redacted Audio

Characters: Elliot, Sunshine

Pairings: Elliot/Sunshine

Song: https://open.spotify.com/track/4fIAZ5bNlwg2Xpsrt1MqmC?si=eZY7NZ1ZSoSXxrjZ6jv_xQ

Cw: description of Sunshine experiencing a panic attack!

This piece also touches on stuff covered in The Balance and how it's been left so far, just to bear in mind if you're not fully caught up.

Please do not feed to AI, claim as your own, or repost to other platforms without my permission. The characters belong to Redacted Audio and this is a fan work.

(Fic below cut)

They’re not sure what set it off. They’d never been particularly afraid of the dark before. But ever since their roadtrip with Elliot, it's like a switch had been flicked on in them overnight.

Elliot still wasn’t home from his big meeting with one of his clients. A vampire king apparently, which didn’t sound real to them, but hey who were they to judge. They could laugh about it with Aaron another time. Now, however, they were alone in the dark of the house; it felt like no matter how many lights were turned on, the shadows remained.

It was becoming suffocating and the ringing in their head was only becoming more distorted, like an unholy screeching in their mind. Their heart seemed seconds away from tearing through their sternum, breath catching in their throat as if it were being slowly dragged out. It is just so dark. And they are so alone.

Hearing the key in the front door wasn’t a comfort. The panic blinding them to its meaning, just that noise was being made and soon they would be seen. Their breaths dragging and burning their way through their chest. Hands and feet going numb - were they saying something? The pounding of their heart had spread to their head now, circling around their skull like a funeral drum, blocking out anything they might be saying.

“-shine?”

Warmth, familiarity, company. Find him and don't let go.

“Sunshine, can you hear me?”

They weakly nod, eyes scrunched shut.

“Can I take your hands to help with your breathing?” His voice is stable, assuring. He’s been here with them before. Even before they started dating he was always there for them; arms outstretched.

And they reach out for him, hands trembling but willing to risk the journey to him. And he doesn’t leave them waiting, giving their hands a squeeze as he catches them.

“Can you breathe with me baby? In for six, hold for four, out for eight. I’ll count, okay?”

Gulping oxygen as best they can, they feebly try and follow along. Stumbling at what feels like each step; but he’s there, counting, encouraging, the whole time.

“In for six now, you got this - 1, 2, 3, 4, keep going, and six. Now hold for me. That’s it. Aaaand out again., steady. Like you’re blowing out one of those terrible candles Aaron’s partner got for his birthday last month.”

A small laugh breaks through the dark and they feel the tightness lighten slightly.

“That’s it,” he encourages, “let’s go again, ready? In for six counts.”

Grasping onto the counts a little easier now, they gradually ease into the calm he’s inviting in. As they finally slump forwards he catches them, cradling them against his chest.

“Eli…” they manage to whisper through the tears.

“Shh, I’ve got you Sunshine.” He murmurs against their head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of their head. “Let it all out, I’ve got you.”

How long the two of them are sat on the floor is anyone’s guess. But finally Sunshine raises their head to look at him, wiping their tears with a sniffle.

“I’m sorry I ruined your fancy shirt.” Is the first thing they manage to say, and Elliot chuckles.

“It’s a shirt, I really couldn’t care less. It can be cleaned or replaced any day.”

“Well don’t just be reasonable about it.”

“Oh I apologise Sunshine,” he says, eyes barely concealing his relief at their more stable state. “I can complain about the little bit of snot and tears on my objectively least favourite shirt if you’d like?”

They snort, “No… I’m not sure where I was going with that. If you did I’d probably cry again.”

He moves his arm from their shoulders to rub rhythmic circles on their back. “Wanna talk about it?” He asks quietly after a moment, searching their face carefully as he does.

“...it’s silly.” they mumble, resting their face on his chest again.

“Try me.” He offers.

It takes another few moments before they are able to answer, not proud of the way their voice cracks as they do.

“It was too dark in here, and you were just gone. It felt… it was almost like I was reliving a nightmare, but that doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t had a nightmare in years, let alone one with anything to do with the dark, or you being missing! I just…”

They pause to exhale carefully, not wanting to work themselves up too much again.

“Remember when you came to visit my dream that night after our first family game night with Aaron and his partner?”

He nods, not ceasing the gentle strokes of their back, giving them his full attention. Pocketing the small thrill his heart gave out at them calling it family game night.

“You said you missed me. Like you had been missing me for a while. Well, this felt like that.” They finish, smiling weakly up at him. “If that doesn’t sound too silly.”

“Not at all Sunshine.” He shakes his head, looking serious. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“Not your fault, you were meeting a King, mister fancy pants.” they tease as best they can with dried tears still on their face.

“Yes, but I want to help, I want to be here for you. King or not, you know you’re my priority. No king can substitute the treasure I have here in my arms.” He cups their cheek delicately. “Can I give you a kiss Sunshine?

“Yes please.” They whisper, leaning into his hand.

“Thank you.” He murmurs against their lips before pressing his to theirs fully.

“Now,” He says, pulling away - still holding their cheek carefully. “You must be exhausted Sunshine… bed? And I can make sure no nightmares make their way to you.”

“Can we go to the rooftop again?” They ask in a small voice. “Only if you’re feeling up to it.”

He beams at their request, “I'm always up for dreaming with you Sunshine. There wasn’t much magic use in the meeting today, it was mostly just talk, so don’t worry.” He says helping them up slowly, guiding them to the bed. “Plenty of stars for us to see tonight.”

And the two clamber under the covers, entangling themselves together, inseparable.

[callsign-joyride]

Yankee Rose | J.H.S. | 1.3

Summary: Getting called back to Top Gun couldn't have come at a better time for Erica "Miami" Kazansky. This was her fourth time being called back to Top Gun, and the failing marriage made her as excited as ever to go back. As one chapter ends, another one begins, but the connotation of that statement is up to interpretation.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Erica "Miami" Kazansky (OC)

Content Warnings: More smut, breeding kink

xiii. Dancing in the Moonlight

SERIES MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Thursday

“Are you sure you have everything that you need? You know we gotta leave early and I don’t want to miss the flight,” Jake said. Erica put her suitcase by the door and turned to look at him.

“I’ve never seen you have so much anxiety. My God, it’s like you’re the one getting married. Yes, I’m sure I have everything. Well, everything that can’t go in my carry-on, that is. It’s not gonna take me that long to throw in my phone charger and an extra book.”

“An extra book? How long is the one that you just started?”

“Four hundred pages. I’m a speed reader and I really don’t want to have to use my phone.”

“It’s a three-hour flight.”

“Yeah, so you can see why I’m bringing an extra book for the trip back.”

The only reason that they went to bed so early was that they had to be at the airport at four in the morning. Jake wanted them to be there two hours before the flight took off, but there wasn’t going to be a line at TSA until it was a reasonable hour for people to be awake. Erica left the house-sitting responsibilities in the hands of Phoenix, so they weren’t worried about anything happening while they were gone. Jake couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he watched Erica get comfortable in the lounge and doze off. She woke up shortly before they were able to actually board the plane. After they took off, Erica grabbed one of Jake’s hoodies and her earbuds before getting her laptop out.

“I thought you were gonna read,” he said.

“It’s too early for that. My brain is still buffering because you acted like we didn’t have time to get coffee.”

“I don’t even - okay.”

Erica turned on one of the movies that she had downloaded before falling asleep on Jake’s shoulder. He woke her up before they started to land so that she could put her things away and buckle her seatbelt. Once they landed and got off the plane, Jake waited by the baggage claim while Erica got a rental car for the two of them. The drive to Jake’s family’s house was almost two hours because of traffic. As the scenery became more rural, Jake glanced at Erica to make sure that she was awake before he started talking.

“My older sister is gonna ask you a ton of questions. The whole family knows about you but they’re gonna act like they don’t. I told them not to talk about the divorce, though.”

“Uh, okay. Now I’m a little nervous but I’ll be fine. Maybe.”

The house was everything that Erica thought it would be. The land that it was on was beautiful, and she kind of wanted to stay there forever. Jake unloaded the car and they started to walk up the steps of the house.

“Looks like mom is the only one here right now, which is kind of a good thing because I’m sure you want to take a nap.”

“You know me so well.”

They walked in and were instantly greeted by his mom. Erica smiled as the smell of coffee hit her nose. It was still fairly early, but there was always time for coffee. Jake’s mom could tell that they both needed it, so they left their luggage by the door as they sat in the kitchen and talked. It didn’t take very long for the coffee in Erica’s cup to be gone, and that was when Jake knew that she was probably ready to go upstairs and start to get settled in. 

“That’s a nice dress,” he said as she hung up the dress for the wedding on the back of the door to the room.

“I hope it’s not a fuck me dress. I love you, but we’re not having wild sex while we’re at your family’s house.”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Oh my God.”

Jake let out a laugh before helping Erica unpack the rest of her things. Once everything had been unpacked and the chargers had been plugged in, Jake pulled her into his arms and they laid on the bed. Erica fell asleep like that, and he couldn’t really move without waking her up, so he set an alarm before placing his phone on the nightstand and nestling into her. They woke up about three hours later, and Erica was definitely feeling more refreshed.

Hours passed and dinner time rolled around. Jake’s dad had gotten home, and he was watching TV in the living room when Erica and Jake walked down the stairs. 

“I hope you’re okay with Sloppy Joe’s,” Jake’s mom said. Erica smiled and grabbed a plate of food before sitting in front of Jake’s dad.

“So, Jake says that you’re a pilot,” he said.

“Yeah! We actually met a few years ago when we were first at Top Gun, actually.”

Dinner went well as Erica talked to Jake's dad about everything. She even helped his mom with the dishes even though she didn't have to. Jake opened the window to his room when they went upstairs for bed. His room always got hot during the summer, and sometimes it felt like the fan wasn't doing enough. 

“My sisters and my nieces are coming over for dinner tomorrow. Ellie's pregnant but the girls don't know yet. I don't even think they would really understand, but don't say anything about it.”

“Wait, so how old are your nieces?”

“Emily's five, Nora’s two. I have a feeling you’ll love them, though.”

“Yeah, I hope it goes well. I haven't been around kids that little in a while.”

“It’ll be okay.”

Friday

Erica and Jake were sitting on the couch when the front door opened. The squealing of small children made Erica put her book down before they both stood up. 

“Uncle Jake!” Emily said as she ran up to him. Erica smiled when Jake picked her up. 

“You're really pretty,” the little girl said. 

“Aw, thanks, hun. And so are you,” she said. Emily giggled and put her head on Jake’s shoulder. Erica waited a few minutes before going over to introduce herself to Jacqueline, Jake’s older sister. They talked for a while as the kids ran around the house with Jake. The conversation got cut short when Nora came up and tugged on Jacqueline’s shirt.

“I gotta put this one down for a nap. Hopefully, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Erica nodded her head and refilled her water bottle in the kitchen. Right as she was walking back to the living room, she heard Emily ask Jake if they could all color together. The question made her smile.

“Oh, of course we can, sweetheart.”

While they were coloring, Jake’s mom quickly took a picture of the three of them. No one realized how much time had passed until Jake’s dad walked in and turned on the evening news. Once dinner was ready, everyone got up and sat at the table. Serving plates were passed around and everything had been going smoothly. That is until Erica saw Jake start to freak out next to her.

“Are you okay?” She whispered into his ear.

“Yeah, hold on. Mom, I thought you were gonna make that mac and cheese bake? You know how much I like it.”

“You’re an adult and you have the recipe. You can make it later if you want.”

“Okay, well-,”

“Calm down, Malibu Ken,” Erica said.

“Oh, I like you!” Ellie exclaimed.

The comment made everyone laugh at Jake’s expense. As dinner wrapped up, Erica got up to help with the dishes. She was surprised when Jake’s dad told her that she could make a drink out of anything on the counter. There were a lot of options. She made three drinks before calling over Jake and his dad.

“Now, I call this a Cowboy Confusion. It just sounded the best. It’s equal parts whiskey and tequila. This might be really horrible, actually. Anyway, cheers.”

As they each downed a shot, Jake looked surprised.

“Actually, it’s not that bad. I kinda want another one, but like a full drink.”

Erica smiled and grabbed some drinking glasses. They stayed up later than everyone else, but they stopped drinking a while ago. Erica didn’t want to get drunk in front of Jake’s family, and his dad wasn’t a particularly heavy drinker. Everyone was in bed by two, and it wasn’t until after they were both in bed that they started to talk to each other before falling asleep.

“Jake, I want you to be honest with me. Do you want kids?” She asked. He sighed and thought about it for a minute.

“Well, I love you, and I don’t think I want to be with anyone else. I’ll be just as happy if we didn’t have kids. Besides, you didn’t want kids when we started going out and I don’t think I would’ve stayed if I was all hard and fast about it. Would it be nice? Yeah, but I don’t need to be a dad. And I don’t want you to think that you need to be a mom, either.”

Erica rolled over and wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck.

“I think I might want kids, actually. I’d have to talk to my doctor to see if I’d be allowed to fly while I’m pregnant, but it’ll probably be fine. Plus we’ll have some pretty damn cute kids.”

Jake chuckled before giving Erica a sloppy kiss. He started to cup her breasts and grind into her hips until she pushed him off.

“Not when we’re right down the hall from your parents,” she said.

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

“Um, no, you’ll just have to be quiet. You moan like a pornstar. I’m serious.”

She wasn’t wrong. She had to cover his mouth multiple times because she knew he was about to moan. He rolled them over so that he was on top, and turned his moans into groans and grunts as he pounded into her. He came fast and hard when she started to scratch the back of his neck and his shoulder blades. He stayed inside of her for a few moments, trying to catch his breath, before rolling over and reaching for some tissues.

Erica took a sip of her water and said that she was going to take a shower. Jake nodded his head in acceptance and leaned his head back before closing his eyes. When she came back and got back in the bed, he asked her if she was actually serious about wanting kids.

“I was. I mean, I told you that I’d go off of my birth control and I’d coordinate with my doctor about flying. Why?”

“I don’t know. Part of me wants to make sure that this is definitely real. And the other part, the part that knows it’s real, is like, well, we should get married first. But only if that’s what you want! I’m not really in a rush for that, surprisingly.”

Erica nodded and the room got quiet for a second. She looked at Jake, and leaned over him before saying, “Well, if you wanna get married before we have kids, we should do that.”

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501 @avengersfan25 @genrockstar @kmc1989 @hiireadstuff

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

[jabberbaird]

hi I’m back with chapters twenty-one through twenty-three of sotr!

tag list: @theballadofthesunandthestars @please-help-this-little-lesbian @ameliaandreas3 @professionalwaterbender @username0derogatory0

Chapter Twenty-One

“I ditch my pack in a patch of katniss.” — KATNISS ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ 

okay despite being on borrowed time to save the Newcomers, Haymitch and Maysilee are really funny figuring out how to distract the porcupine. The sibling banter is fr.

RIP Buck, Chicory, and Hull :(

THEY’RE HIDING IN KATNISS. KATNISS!!!!!!

The pact of District Twelve…to be the worst Victor Panem’s ever seen…

Maybe I’m wrong then in my previous yappings? About why Haymitch is so beaten down? Dear Lord I hope I am and now I’ve found some hope to cling too ✌️ 

Chapter Twenty-Two

OH WOW THAT WAS FAST.

Gamemakers in the arena…hello behind the scenes. Though I gotta question that, because surely the Gamemakers knew there were Tributes close by…I propose: they were trying to off Haymitch again by relying on the District “reputations” of being aggressive towards Capitol people so they could bomb them. Because that bomb happened FAST

Though they weren’t able to track Haymitch and Maysilee…that might be a wrinkle in my theory.

“nothing they can take from you was ever worth keeping” — SCREAMING

oh I KNOW Snow’s been stricken with several heart attacks by this point lmao

Chapter Twenty-Three

Brief pause.

Alder: i have no fear

“When you’ve been set up to lose everything you love, what else is there to fight for?” — on the back of my book.

Alder: i have one fear. *stares fearfully at my previous ramblings*

The way this chapter ignites the memory of reading that little tidbit about Haymitch’s Games in Catching Fire…I know what’s coming. I know what awaits me.

Haymitch and Maysilee immediately checking on each other after hearing the canon :(

FUCK I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT. MAYSILEE. MAYSILEE NOOOOOOOOO

:’(

I swear if we DON’T get that shot of Haymitch’s face through the claws of the hovercraft as it lifts Maysilee’s body in the movie…I’m rioting.

Oh no Wellie is still out there…oh no please don’t Rue us again…I’ve already gone through Ampert PLEASE NO

The pure joy Haymitch describes for Seam kids to find a bike… :(

Oh. Oh. That end…gut punch. Haymitch quietly dropping down some chocolate to a crying Silka after caring for Wellie…wow. That’s going up there with Lenore Dove screaming in the rain, Haymitch facing down Snow at the parade, and that image of Haymitch’s face through the claws of the hovercraft after Maysilee. Top four favorite scenes. Perhaps there’s a fifth waiting for me.

[mentohol-blog]

Chronological thoughts on this week's Smackdown now that we were finally able to watch.

Wade and Tessitore are practically sitting in each other’s lap.

Did they have to start the show by hurting us? Kevin’s tough. But still. Heartbreaking. I’m sure it’s a scary and uncertain time for him and his family. Wishing them all the best.

Take your shirt off, Aldis! You’re obviously still hella ripped.

Randy’s a true company man. This VIVIDLY brought the lyrics of “16 Tons” to mind. And now I’m picturing him as a coal miner.

Are we gonna get Solo v Randy at Mania? Please? Pretty please? (I want it even more now that I’ve seen a ton of folks online complaining about the possibility).

Raquel is GORGEOUS.

The top is off, Maxxine can’t be stopped now.

Nevermind 😭

Kayden and Katana 😍 They’re so incredible. I wish they would win, but I know they won’t. Honestly not feeling Bayley and Lyra.

I won’t get my hopes up that Michin and B-Fab will win, but a person can dream.

I am so incredibly pumped for this Damian/ McIntyre fight! Also, I think Drew might be a crow with all this jewelry hoarding.

Sometimes I like to think about how, if you were to fully buy into kayfabe, WWE is such an unsafe workplace. No way are they passing an OSHA inspection. Also, HR needs to be sacked.

Fénix is so impressive. Really fun to watch!

Naomi looks fantastic, but I do have to say that middle school me would have paid the big bucks for all those razor blade accessories.

Please tell me this match being at Smackdown doesn't mean Street Profits don't get a Mania match. Dawkins and Montez deserve their moment.

What do you think Knight’s cup size is?

When will my beloved (Tonga Loa) return from the war (injury)?

We also bought nosebleed tickets to Smackdown before Mania during the show, so it's gonna be four straight days of wrasslin and I can't WAIT. 4 days until we start the drive to Vegas!

[cocogum]

My honest reactions of episodes 5 and 6 (part 2)

PART 1 : HERE

(‼️ SEASON 4 SPOILERS ‼️)

.

.

.

.

.

.

Okay I just HAD to devote the full Alibert inn scene from episode 5 here CUZ WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT YUGO GOING BACK TO EMELKA!! I know I already mentioned Chibi and Grougal (as well as the tree Tofu tower) in part 1 but part 2 will basically be about all the rest of the inn scene cuz tumblr couldn’t let me have more than ten images per post (I know the site apparently lets u have more but I always use the phone for it so shush.)

But first, we finally get to see Alibert again after all those years 💕

Alibert. Sweetie. Baby. You can take care of two (technically four) kids with the addition of a freaking INN, you COOK for the customers, AND, ON TOP OF ALL THAT, you’re the MAYOR of EMELKA, that same place where you run the inn and take care of your adopted sons.

You do much more than just “taking care of an inn”, you got three jobs AND you’re still sane. You’re three in one, a whole package, props to you king. He’s such a boss ass man I love him 💕💕

NAH MAN

Not these ppl trying to avoid the inflation 😭😭 I don’t blame them tho. I would’ve said the same thing lol.

(Also is the wine a call back to Gustavio? Plz it would be so funny if the reason why Alibert is angry is cuz these ppl are saying how “bad” it is just so the prices can stay the same but also because he’s mad that they’re calling Gustavio’s wine “disgusting” even if they were all just trying to make him not raise the prices!)

Love how Yugo doesn’t say that same shit to Ruel after all those years of cooking for his ass and never getting anything from him.

Like even the whole Brotherhood calls Ruel a “cheapskate” but the only time where we see Yugo say that same shit is when he says that to his own CUSTOMERS?!?

Gurl bye Yugo’s such a silly little hypocrite!! 😭😭

OMG THE WHOLE FAMILY’S BACK TOGETHER!!

Adamaï get your stupid lizard ass over here.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen these two just laughing and hugging like this 💕💕💕

Also, Ankama tried being very slick with Az and his wife.

Nah cuz how can you not see these two and not think about Yugo and Amalia?? Does the thought never come to mind or what??

They literally give off the same energy, how did no one say anything before???!!?

THESE LITTLE TOFUS ARE OBVIOUSLY A SILLY PARALLEL TO THESE TWO AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE.

Okay now the next part of the Alibert inn scene is very important to me so listen.

Recently, I came scrolling on @moths-are-better’s recent posts about Yugo and I came up on the one where he drinks the “milk” that was in the cup in the scene below.

But like-

@moths-are-better STOP LYING TO YOURSELF THIS IS CLEARLY WINE!!!

Look at all the other people drinking in the inn before they left: they all had that same kind of cup, insinuating that they were drinking wine (and also cuz they confirmed it was wine while trying to avoid any possible future inflations with Alibert).

I just love how Ankama deliberately shows us small scenes like this to remind us that Yugo can do adult things even though he looks like a kid. Because THIS is one of those scenes! Just look at how Alibert quietly pulls the cup of wine away from Yugo as soon as the guy starts ranting about his problems.

That’s clearly not milk lol I just love your delusions @moths-are-better 💕💕

But not only did this scene made me realize that nothing can stop Yugo from doing adult things despite how he looks, it also helped me realize that Yugo is the type to only drink when he’s having problems. We clearly see him about to drink more while ranting to Alibert before he carefully pulls the wine away from Yugo cuz he KNOWS Yugo would drink more just for that.

That level of attention to detail is amazing and I’m so glad I managed to catch up to the hints early on.

Alibert be looking like Yugo’s bartender AND therapist in just that moment alone lol

Ngl I would’ve loved to see a drunk Yugo if he had been able to drink more before Alibert intervened.

‼️ EVERYONE ‼️

👏 BE👏 LIKE 👏 ALIBERT 👏 ❤️❤️

This is making me wanna have kids too man….

His caring and calming attitude towards Yugo and the way he just treats him, cares for him, and acts like a responsible parent during all these years really makes me wanna do the same thing someday. Alibert is so good at his job(s) that he’s even beating a freaking goddess. Let that sink in. (actually any good parent like Alibert would beat the Eliatrope goddess’ parenting easily lol)

Alibert is genuinely so sweet, patient, thoughtful, and understanding of Yugo. Like even though he just heard Yugo say he finally found his true family, Alibert doesn’t take his words as insults and would rather just let him spill out all of his words to him.

When I said I missed these two like this, I really meant it. This inn is not only where Yugo was raised in but it’s also Yugo’s comfort place.

My ass knows this is foreshadowing.

It just knows.

Older Yugo where u at? We need to talk.

Ankama’s gonna ruin this family and laugh about it while eating some croissants.