#My Ex Boyfriend Is Back

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[istadris]

First thought watching Transformers One trailers : oh gosh they're finally making Orion Pax the feral gremlin he should have BEEN since G1

Second thought : oh fuck I need to pit this scrappy little thing against TFP Megatron

[binarisunset]

something very funny to imagine when thinking about Sejanus and Coryo in a relationship is the way each of them would treat the other’s ex - ie Sejanus would definitely become besties with Lucy Gray but Coriolanus would rather shoot himself in the head before spending a single minute with Marcus.

[moeblob]

You literally spent three hours having an ENTIRE SCHOOL (teachers included) slut-shaming a guy just for him to be a (spoiler).

[secret-smut-sideblog]

You Know Me Too Well

Gortash x F! Dark Urge

18+ masochism, power play, oral (f!), impact play, sub/dom, p-in-v, knife play, blood play, gortash being a freak (and a bottom), aftercare, some tenderness, porn w/o plot

After the coronation, she can't get the familiarity he showed her out of her mind. She needs answers, and the Archduke is more than happy to indulge her...

-

"Well, this is unexpected." He crooned, turning to lean against his desk.

She lowered herself down from the windowsill, shooting him a sharp look.

"Don't read too much into this, Enver." She hissed his name, only eliciting a wider smile from him.

As if she hadn't scaled a castle wall to crawl into his chambers. She closed her eyes in frustration. What was she doing?

"In that case, what do I owe this late night visit from my favorite assassin?"

Why was she here?

Answers. Yes, answers.

"You seem to know me. Too well, if I'm picking up the correct undercurrents."

She circled around him, noticed that he seemed to perk up at her predatory movements. Turning to look at her with more lidded eyes.

"I do know you."

"Were we together?" Her hand danced over her dagger hilt, something she found herself doing often.

His eyes flicked down to that movement. Back up to her eyes, stepping closer.

"Yes."

Something burned in her pelvis.

This close she realized how tall he was, staring down at her. Yet, she felt entirely like the one in control. There was a stirring in the back of her memory.

"I get glimpses sometimes. Your face is in many of them." She looked down now, closing her eyes.

"I have taken all of his gifts, but I don't want to be a pawn to my father. I dont want to be controlled by anyone, god or man."

Looked back up at him.

"You never tried to control me, did you?"

His eyes softened, reaching out and cupping her cheek. The bite of metal and warm calloused fingers.

"Never."

She stepped closer. Could hear his heart thumping, felt a dagger drive but pushed it down.

"I need you to help me remember who I am. Who I was."

He smiled, then leaned his head back and chuckled reverently. "What weren't you? Brilliant, bloodthirsty, beautiful. Gods, you were everything. All my scheming and bad nature paled in comparison."

His eyes meeting hers again. "We were equals, you and I. But I was wrapped around your finger, if I was being honest."

He stepped even closer, their bodies nearly flush. "You liked me under your boot."

She shivered at that. Feeling it to be true.

"And did you like being there?" Her voice husky, wetness pooling between her legs.

"Oh, very much." He purred, leaning down.

Their lips were hovered across from one another. So very nearly touching. His pupils blown wide with lust.

"Show me." She whispered. "Show me how much you missed me."

He remedied the short distance between them, enveloping her in a hungry kiss.

She pushed back into him with the same force, pulling on his collar.

Yes, she remembered this. He tasted familiar, smelled familiar. Gunpowder, musk, heat.

He lifted under her thighs and pushed her onto his desk, slotting between her legs. Pulling his finely embellished shirt off with haste, throwing it down.

She leaned up, all instict, and bit down on his neck. Her sharp teeth breaking skin.

He shivered, eyes rolling back. A low whimper escaping his throat.

She growled, feeling that deep heat rising up in her. Something that she had feared when touching others. But not here.

She lapped at the blood that flowed out for her. The iron taste mingling with his sweat. Copper and salt.

"You like when I hurt you, don't you?" She hushed, moving up to his ear. Nipping at it.

He nodded, gripping at her hips. His erection straining hard against his trousers.

"Speak, Gortash."

"Yes."

"Good boy." She licked the edge of his ear. Smiling at the way his breath caught.

She raked her sharp nails down his back with a deep satisfaction. Sighing in pleasure.

"I'm going to leave you marked. Bloody and battered." She promised, smiling.

"Gods, yes," He groaned, dropping to his knees.

She leaned back, legs still open on the desk. "You were like this often, weren't you?" Removed her blouse with an easy pull.

"You liked me here." He panted, watching her movements with ravenous eyes.

"That does seem like me." She laughed, removing her leathers, now naked on his desk.

His hips rocked subtly, drinking her in.

"What would we do next?" She teased, leaning forward and cupping his chin. Pulling her hair free from its pins with her other hand. Falling free and bouncing down to her waist.

He moaned, leaning forward and catching her mouth in a greedy kiss.

Without prompting he clasped his hands behind his back.

"I see," She smiled, pulling away. A string of saliva connecting them.

She leaned back on the desk, spreading her legs.

"Eat."

He dove forward and lapped at her cunt. Crushing his tongue into her with vulgar need.

Her head fell back, a shudder ripping up her spine. Oh, she had trained him well.

"Fuck," She hissed, looking down at his dark hair between her legs.

He moaned in pleasure, looking up at her with glazed eyes.

"Slower," She moaned, hips fucking his mouth.

He nodded, tongue moving into languid devotional stripes. Coming up to suckle down on her clit then circling back down to push inside her.

She moaned, a high call. Head falling back again. Gripping his hair in her fist. Ribcage rising against the cold mahogany.

She was degrading herself to be here, a tyrant between her legs. She was far too good for him, and that made her need it even more.

She pulled on his hair, directing his eyes to hers.

"Take your cock out."

Saw his eyes lid, shoulder moving, following her command.

"Touch yourself, slowly."

She couldn't see his hand working but felt his whimper into her cunt.

That sent her reeling, her orgasm on its precipice.

He pulled back briefly to get a breath and she saw how his maw was coated in her arousal, dripping down his jaw before he leaned back in with greater fervor.

That did it, her eyes retreating to the back of her skull.

Her legs clamped down around his head, hands bracing her at her side. Moaning out in choppy cries, a great wave of agonizing pleasure ripping through her.

He continued, fucking her through it. Unrelenting.

She clenched down in pulses and he groaned, licking up her come in greedy tonguefuls.

Grabbing his hair she forced him back, panting.

"Very good." She purred, "You make a good fucktoy."

His eyes glazed over again at that. Hands returning behind his back. Cock red and weeping.

"I think I'll take you now." She lowered down off of the desk, pushing his chest.

He fell onto his back with a smile, eyes lidded and dark.

"Make it hurt." He panted.

She straddled over him, leaning down, her arms rested on his chest. Her ass high up in the air.

She opened her mouth as if about to say something, instead snapping her hand hard across his face.

He groaned, hips hitching up.

"You like that? How embarrassing for a lord." Striking him again harder, his eyes closing, groaning again.

"What if I told all of those nobles that their archduke liked getting his pretty face hit?" She hissed in his ear. Hips lowering down to grind teasingly against his length.

"That he liked being choked." Her hand coming down around his throat.

"That he liked being put in his place, hmm?"

"Please," He moaned, looking into her eyes. "Please hurt me more."

"Good boy, I like when you beg." She sat back on him. Trapping his cock flat under her, grinding down viciously.

He moaned, head turning to the side.

She drug her sharp nails hard down his chest, little pinpricks of blood bubbling to the surface along her trail.

His hands clawed at the wood floor, back arching.

"How bad do you want to be inside me?" She smiled as he panted.

"Please, I need it. I need you to ruin me." He urged, eyes wide and pleading.

She reached for her dagger, brandishing it with a satisfied sigh.

She smiled, rising up and aligning him at her entrance. "You'll bleed for me."

She slammed her hips down, sheathing herself to the hilt.

He cursed, head thrown back. Hands gripping her hips but not directing them. Holding on for dear life.

She struck against his sternum with the pommel of her blade, hard enough to bruise. Hips rising and falling in a vicious rhythm.

The wind knocked out of him, his cock twitching hard inside her.

"What a pretty bruise you'll give me." She smiled at the skin already blotching.

"More," He groaned. Hips coming up to meet her.

She held her knife against his throat, leaning forward.

His eyes widened, pupils so blown they were just black saucers.

"Open your mouth."

He did, panting hotly.

She spat between his lips.

He moaned loudly, eyes closing. Hips moving in fervor.

"You're going to come with my knife inside you."

Beyond words, he could only nod desperately.

She leaned back and started carving slow lines into his chest. Bouncing hard on his cock. Nearing her own end again.

He nearly screamed, hands gripping with bruising strength on her hips.

The blood pooling on his chest ignited the spark again, her orgasm ripping through her like an impaling spear. She shrieked, her cunt clenching down in tremendous pulses, wrenching him.

He whimpered loudly and gripped at her knife hand, holding her by the wrist. Directing it over his heart. Pushing down until the skin broke.

He shattered under her then, beating his fist down into the floor. Screaming out her name and all the curses he knew. Back arching high as he spilled into her in sloppy desperate thrusts. His spend filling her to the brim, an obscene amount already leaking out. His eyes rolling like marbles in his head.

Finally, he collapsed into the floor. Chest heaving, face red and blotchy.

She stared down at her work, the tapestry of cuts and bruises adorning him from neck to belly.

She pulled off of him, and he reached for her as she retreated. "I'll be back." She smiled, finding a wash basin in the corner of the room.

She brought the bowl and a few fresh wash cloths over, kneeling over him.

Gently beginning to wipe him he stared at her, bewildered.

"You are different." He marveled.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked, pausing.

"No, this is nice." He sat up slightly, still not at full strength.

She wiped away the blood, discarding the cloths as they got soiled. The basin dark red by the time she was finished.

"Thank you, for loving me before." She hushed, putting a cool palm on the angry skin. "I don't think I'm the same person you knew, but I can still feel it."

"I think you're still you, just a little softer." He mused. "Afterall, you still want to shed blood."

She sighed in admittance. "It's a burden. The power is incredible, it feels right. But I don't know if it's worth being subservient to my father."

She shook her head, playing with his fingers absent-mindedly. "I want to be free. I need to be my own master."

"If anyone can defy a god, it's you." He encouraged, sitting up and taking her face in his hand again.

"I have the utmost confidence in you. Do what you need."

She held his hand to her cheek, closing her eyes. "Thank you."

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"My assassin, my muse. No matter your nature, you will always be a part of me. Thank you for coming back to me."

~

[oswinthegeek]

🩷🤎🩷🤎🩷🤎

[emily-mooon]

You know when I hear people say they want more messy relationships in ST, I’m tempted to point my finger to the corner where Stonathan sits.

[allamericanb-tch]

HELP ok do i text him or not

[skrrtscree]

Akishinji to me feels like being in love with your best friend in middle school, finally admitting those feelings in your first year at highschool, never feeling so right before everything is wrong again. He disappears afterwards and doesn't even say goodbye, or say your over. Even when you find him, he's distant. Of course he would be, he believes he's a murderer, that he'll hurt anyone that comes too close. You wish he'd come back home with you and ask for your help but he doesn't.

You're stubborn so you keep coming back but he's equally stubborn so he continues you push you away. You're both stuck in this cycle, neither of you want to give in to what the other says so there's not much you can do. You both don't mention what you ha(d)ve, it never comes up. You both stay like this, no new teammate enticing him back until him.

He's still plagued with gulit, he knows this won't help him but the least he can do is protect the kid he unintentionally orphaned. And all of a sudden, you have him back. And it's like he never left. Sure, there is some awkwardness, some things left unsaid between you, he still has problems problems you don't even know about at first and he refuses to elaborate on them but you don't care too much for now. You have him back and you won't lose him again. You can't lose him again.

But the universe isn't kind, you've known this for a long time yet you keep standing strong, you can't falter because then everyone else will.

But he slips away, and you crumble.

[paupersnail]

My little queen of hell, my malkavian Nyx.

[ellie-tarts]

my temeraire summer exchange gift for @udaberriwrites ! i enjoyed drawing jane and edith together i love them <3

some process stuff under the cut

major ref for edith’s outfit and also my doobles and notes about jane’s outfit, references from dressed to kill british naval uniforms masculinity and contemporary fashions

[ramayantika]

Okay but the life of the legendary Shovana Narayan altered my brain chemistry, a superb academic record hold, a maestro in kathak and then also a civil services officer with a long distance marriage and motherhood

If she could do this in the 50s and 60s, wtf is stopping me from doing so, when I have never wanted just one thing to define me

[iwanttobepersephone]

Y'all ever get obsessed with a fandom despite never interacting with the original thing and basing your understanding of it purely off of what the common consensus among the fandom is?

And then, years later, your brain decides to briefly get obsessed with it again, but instead of going and watching the original content, you just base everything off of your now even more vague understanding of canon? And then, eventually, you end up just creating your own thing that's slightly based on the original concept?

Yeah, that's me with Sanders Sides right now

Anyways, here's some doodles

[symphonyofsilence]

Learning about the Yunmeng Shuangjie and the Nieyao drama through Wei Wuxian's and Nie Mingjue's points of view.

[widowshill]

BURKE DEVLIN & ROGER COLLINS. — It isn't really amazing if you know what love is about. — Well, yes, I suppose I don't know anything about love. I guess that's why she married you ten years ago and not me. — I'll go one step further. I think you've gone beyond the point of even knowing what it is.

[can-i-get-a-yippee]

There’s an alternate universe where the 911 writers didn’t murder Shannon, and she, Buck, and Eddie get to have a similar dynamic to Micheal, Bobby, and Athena