#a short little thing but one I enjoyed doing. two weird women with weird powers.

[kp-alice]

The Puppy With an MAcc

Summary: Despite officially retiring as a professional dominatrix months ago, there's one client you've decided to keep. Maybe it's because of the generous amount he pays, or maybe, just maybe, it's more than that. With the lines between the two of you continuously blurring, you can't help but return every time.

AKA a hopelessly devoted accountant!sub!Yunho x hesitantly-in-love!dom!f!reader

Word count: 5 150

Warnings: non-sexual dominance (kneeling, various acts of service, pet names - Miss, Puppy, etc.), crying, implied minor age difference (like 3-4 years but both characters are in their 20s), basically just two cowards in love who are too scared to admit their feelings to each other but love to indulge in non-committal domesticity

A/N: This fic is the second part of my sub!Yunho Kinktober 2024! The event's masterlist can be found here.

A/N 2: MAcc = Master of Accountancy (I think?? if I got it wrong, please correct me!!)

Your "dominatrix era", as your close friends liked to call it, was pretty short-lived, to say the least.

Well, it's not like you intended on making it your full-time job for the rest of time, anyway. Really, at the core of it, it was mostly just curiosity you wished to sate before getting out into the real world after university. Because of this, you didn't exactly focus on "expanding your empire", keeping only a handful of clients you'd found nice enough to deal with on a semi-regular basis.

The first few months were fun, to say the least. After all, how could you not feel excited at the thought of ordering wealthy men around for money? It made you giddy just thinking about it - you, a normal uni student, making powerful guys crawl around like dogs and thank you for it at the end of each session. Not to mention how good it felt to see them enjoying it too, all that stiffness in their shoulders and the frowns on their faces vanishing a minute into your session. And though a lot of what you did could be described as sexual in nature, you never actually had sex with anyone, keeping things as professional as can be. In a weird way, all of it felt more like a therapy session than stereotypical sex work.

But, as with everything else, even your little side gig had to come to an end a little less than a year later. Because while everything was fun and paid more than enough, you really couldn't see yourself doing this work long-term. Even with just a handful of clients, eventually, taking care of them started to take a mental toll on you. You tried to separate work from personal life, you really did, but as time went on and you got to know them a bit more personally, it was just not possible anymore. Even outside of your dominatrix persona, you felt burdened with each client's struggles and stories, eventually overwhelmed to the point of quitting.

And so, after a few weeks of careful consideration, you finally sent out your goodbye letters to all of them.

Well, all of them except one.

Jeong Yunho was one of the last clients to request your services, sparing him your initial awkwardness when you were just starting out. The first thing you noticed about him was his age - in comparison to your other clients, you were surprised to learn he was just three years older than you. The next thing was his profession. Despite his relatively young age, he had already established himself as the local manager of one of the biggest accounting firms in the country, earning him both a nice sum of money as well as unbearable loads of stress.

Which is exactly what brought him to you.

Unlike your other clients, Yunho didn't overload you with random bits of his tragic past and complaints about his depressing marriage. No, no, his case was much simpler than that.

"I don't know," Yunho shrugged nonchalantly at your question, letting you tuck him into bed, "I get really stressed from making all the big decisions at work and I love powerful women. It just felt natural to combine the two."

Somehow, it was exactly that reasoning that had made you keep him even months after quitting.

You didn't tell him he was the only one left, though. Didn't want to make it weird or make him think there was something deeper to your decision. Your dynamic was perfect just the way it was, and despite its deep and stable foundations, you still didn't dare risk breaking it in any way.

Another thing that set Yunho apart were his requests. Unlike your other clients, his preferences had stayed pretty much the same since the first time you'd talked to him. He liked it when you visited his apartment instead of just some random hotel, and when you wore clothes that could pass as everyday attire rather than the stereotypical leather and latex. His scenes were nothing short of domestic, either. You always felt like a husband from the 50s, coming home to his loving and generous wife after a long day of work (classes) and letting her shower him with affection and praise.

Much like today, as you yet again found yourself on an all-too-familiar doorstep. It had been a few weeks since your last visit, and you had to admit, you'd really missed Yunho during that time. The longer pause wasn't intentional on either side, mind you. It was just a case of his busy schedule clashing with your finals week and the mandatory week-long recuperative period that followed. Now that you were back, however, you couldn't help the small smile on your lips, looking forward to whatever awaited you inside.

Not to mention this visit would mark your first anniversary with Yunho as your client (though you couldn't dwell on that too much in order to keep those incessant butterflies in your stomach at bay).

You didn't have to knock or ring the doorbell. Instead, you fished out your very own key that Yunho had given you a few weeks back. A sign of his trust and how welcome you'd always be in his home, as he'd described it.

Any other potential thoughts were quickly halted, though, as the door suddenly swung open, revealing a very excited-looking Yunho.

"You're here!" He exclaimed excitedly, flashing you a big grin. He stood like that for a second, just watching you in what appeared to be awe before suddenly straightening up again and stepping to the side. "Oh, right, sorry. Come in!"

You let out a small chuckle at his antics, an undeniable warmth blooming in your chest at the mere sight of him.

The next steps were pretty much automatic at this point. First, Yunho helped you remove your coat and hung it up for you. Then, he knelt down, letting you lean on his shoulder for support while he slipped your heels off and neatly set them aside.

"Good boy," you cooed enthusiastically, moving your hand up from his shoulder to ruffle his hair slightly. "Always so happy to see me, hm? Are you all ready for tonight or should I go wait in the living room?"

He quickly shook his head at the suggestion. "No, no, it's okay! Everything should be ready, me included. Oh, and I made you your favorite today, just how you like it! You know the one, the- the..."

You watched him try to finish his thought, but it was too late. In just a few moments, Yunho's eyes glazed over the same way you'd witnessed many times before. He was still present, yet his gaze grew a bit distant, retreating into himself to adjust to the sudden change. A change he clearly needed a lot, considering all it took for him to slip into subspace was the small ritual he'd always done to welcome you into his home.

But just as quickly as his voice trailed off and his eyes lost focus, he snapped back to reality, almost startled by the sudden clarity in his mind.

And there it was. All of his personal and work-related worries had been set aside, making his head feel almost overwhelmingly light and empty in comparison to his day-to-day state.

"What is..." He began, making you follow his line of sight, "what's that?"

A fond smile spread across your lips at the innocent curiosity in his eyes, realizing he was looking at the gift bag in your hand.

"Just a small gift I got for you, Puppy," you spoke softly, watching his eyes widen.

"Wait, for me?!" He asked excitedly, though you could sense a hint of uncertainty in his voice as if he didn't dare believe it just yet.

"Yes, hun, for you," you confirmed, unable to stop yourself from ruffling his hair again with your free hand. "But we'll get to that later, okay? How about you show me what you cooked for us tonight first?"

It didn't surprise you to find out Yunho had already eaten before you arrived. Sometimes, if he was still lucid enough, he'd eat alongside you and chat about random things that came to mind. Usually, though, he'd just eat in advance so that he could fully relax and focus on you only.

You sat at the small dining table, zeroed in on the delicious dish in front of you. Over time, as Yunho began cooking for you more and more frequently as a show of gratitude, you noticed a considerable improvement in his skills. Not that he was bad before, of course not, but now? It almost felt illegal to be paid for your services in both money and food this good.

In Yunho's eyes, though, it was all worth it. The time he'd spend cooking for you helped him ease into the scene, in a way. Even just preparing all this for you felt extremely calming, knowing how much you'd always compliment him and how appreciative you were.

Much like right now, as he sat on the floor next to your chair, cheek resting against your thigh. His eyes were closed as you ran your hand through his silky hair, muttering small words of praise every now and then. This part of your evenings was one of his absolute favorites, as he truly got to just think about nothing. No work or family issues could reach him here. All he had to do was just lean against you and focus on your soft voice and loving touch.

Sometimes (not that he'd ever admit it), when he couldn't sleep at night and felt extra lonely, he'd try petting his hair just like you always did. He'd try to think about your words of praise to force out all the negative thoughts clouding his mind. And yet, it could never compare to the real thing. The warmth of your fingertips just felt different and he could never quite replicate your voice in his head for it to be satisfying enough.

After a while of not thinking at all, Yunho liked to talk. A lot.

While he cleaned up in the kitchen, you let yourself get comfortable on his couch, propping your back up with some extra pillows since you knew you'd be here a while. Like usual, you'd put on a skirt today too, knowing it was the most convenient option considering what was in store for the two of you.

A minute or two later, Yunho emerged from the kitchen, the content smile on his lips spreading even wider at the sight of you. Without an ounce of hesitance, he walked up to the couch, looming over you with his tall self for just a second before dropping down to his knees again.

This, too, was one of Yunho's interesting, distinct traits. Whenever he could, he'd find himself on the ground, looking up at you with nothing but utter devotion.

"People always marvel at how tall I am," Yunho muttered, nuzzling his face into your hand while you finished your meal. "And it's really flattering, don't get me wrong! It's just that... sometimes, I also want to feel small, you know? Even if it means I have to literally kneel down in front of someone."

"So? How have you been?" Yunho began, flashing you a bright smile. As tentatively as always, his hands reached for your left foot, giving you enough time to stop him (even though you never did). "I want to hear everything."

You groaned. "Ugh, don't even get me started. Remember the professor I told you about last time and how he can never grade our papers on time? Guess what? We're still waiting! I swear we've collectively sent him like a hundred emails already and he's still acting like he doesn't see them."

Yunho hums thoughtfully at your words, brows furrowing as he keeps massaging your leg, going up to your calf now. "That really sucks, I'm sorry. I'm sure it's gonna be fine, though. He'll probably be more lenient because of the delay, not to mention you always ace all your classes anyways."

Your leg involuntarily jolted as he grazed a particularly ticklish spot, making him giggle. "Thanks, I really hope so too," you replied, trying to stay focused despite his skilled hands. "It's still nothing in comparison to our dorms, though."

Yunho shot you an inquisitive look, urging you to keep going.

"I mean, it's nothing too shocking, they're just raising the rent again for the second time this year. I really shouldn't be surprised at this point, but just- I wish they were at least honest about being greedy instead of making up random excuses as to why we have to pay even more outrageous prices than before."

"You know I'd love to help you with that if you want-"

"Puppy," you warned in a stern voice, making him immediately hush and drop his head. "We've talked about this, remember? You already pay me more than enough, I can't ask you for any more than that. Besides, the rent thing is an issue of principle, not finances."

"I know," Yunho sighed, halting his movements. "I just want you to be happy and pursue your dreams without having to worry about things like money."

"Yuyu," you cooed, leaning down to tuck his hair behind his ear. "I know you want to help, but please believe me when I say you're already doing more than enough. Not just because of the money, but because of your company in general, okay? I always look forward to spending time with you and I'm really thankful we get to meet like this. Seeing you happy makes me happier than any sum of money you could possibly offer."

There was silence for a moment as Yunho took your words in, still gently holding onto your foot to stay grounded. But even with his head dropped down, you could see his lips begin to tremble, fighting back tears.

It had been a while since he'd got to talk to someone so openly and vulnerably. To just say whatever was on his mind without fearing it would be somehow used against him later. To be appreciated so genuinely without any ulterior motives from the other side.

Sniffling quietly, his hands resumed their work, taking hold of your other leg to massage it as well.

"Thank you, Miss," he said in a mere whisper, afraid his voice would break if he spoke any louder.

"Of course, Yu," you muttered back. "You'll always be my good boy, always," you reassured him lovingly, giving him a playful nudge with your now-free foot. The effect was immediate as a small smile spread across his lips, lighting up his teary eyes again as he looked up at you adoringly.

Oh, how he'd missed you.

After a good while of just talking about anything and everything that came to mind, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. Yunho's hands rested on your shins while you pet his head on your thighs. His breathing had evened out over time, and you could see the way his eyelids were beginning to grow heavy. It was time to sleep.

This was usually considered the end of your sessions, where you'd help him get dressed for bed and caress his hair until he'd doze off. He always felt really sad when you left and he hated going to bed alone, so this solved both of those issues. Besides, you had to admit that the sight of someone as overworked as him sleeping so peacefully did something for your soul as well.

"Alright, Puppy," you began softly, making Yunho lift his head up, "let's get you to bed, shall we?"

Ever the good boy, he gave you a sleepy but content nod.

Happy with his agreement, you were about to stand up and lead him to the bedroom, but quickly paused in your tracks.

The softest kissing sounds echoed through the living room, one for each of your knees.

Yunho quickly sensed your tension and looked up at you in confusion, which then turned into alarm.

"I-I'm so sorry Miss, I should have asked for permission!" He rambled in panic, leaning back on his haunches to give you as much space as he could. "I guess I spaced out a little too much and forgot myself for a moment, it happened without me meaning to, I'm really sorry-"

"Yuyu," you interrupted him gently, fighting the smile on your lips, "relax, it's okay."

Yet another thing you really cherished about the man before you. No matter what, he always asked for permission when trying something new. Sometimes, he'd even ask with things you had already agreed on in previous sessions, just to be sure. So to see him get flustered the one time he accidentally got too carried away and forgot to do so? It was strangely endearing, to be honest.

Had you had any suspicions that this wasn't a mere accident, that this was simply Yunho's way of "sneakily" pushing your boundaries, your reaction would have been much more different. You weren't afraid of stopping a session mid-way through and banning your client on the spot; you'd done it before.

But seeing the genuine panic written all over the man's face, clearly scared of upsetting you? He was nothing short of adorable, looking like a small, frightened animal.

"But- but I," Yunho tried again, but stopped at your firm gaze.

"I said it's okay, you're not in trouble," you repeated. "...Besides, it was actually quite cute. Maybe I'll even let you do it again in the future."

Oh God.

After calming your precious puppy down, you walked him down the hall to his bedroom (well, you walked; he decided to crawl instead - after shyly getting your permission, of course).

"Think you can change yourself, hun?" You asked him as he sat down on the bed, patiently awaiting further instructions.

While he always tried to be good for you and not feel entitled to anything, he visibly deflated at your words. "Why? I mean- I definitely can if you want me to, but..."

It took all your willpower not to cave at his puppy eyes.

Alas, you had more important things to sort out.

"The gift, remember?"

And that was all you needed to say for Yunho to immediately jump into action.

The second time you entered his bedroom, this time with the gift bag in hand, Yunho was tucked in bed and ready to go. His clothes were neatly folded on a nearby chair, exchanged for a set of comfy-looking pajamas. He perked up at the sight of you, sitting up and making more space for you by the edge.

"Ready for your present, Pup?" You asked giddily, wanting to hear him say it out loud despite the obvious curiosity and excitement in his eyes.

"Yes, please!" Yunho beamed at you as you sat down next to him, trying to resist peeking into the bag before he was properly allowed to.

But as you finally handed him the bag, his features turned sad, a small pout on his face.

"What is it, Yu?" You asked, worried at the sudden change in tone.

He let out a deep sigh, cheeks warming. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything back. I wasn't sure if it would be appropriate and the internet didn't give me a clear answer either so I panicked. I hope it doesn't look like I don't appreciate your services or anything, that's not it at all, I swear!"

You let out an amused chuckle. "Sweetheart, I'd never think that about you. You already show me enough gratitude as is. Besides, this wasn't even supposed to be a gift exchange in the first place. I just saw something online and it made me think of you so I bought it. I'm not expecting anything in return."

Whether you said something after that or not, Yunho wasn't sure. His mind had already stopped at the mention of you thinking about him outside of work.

Sure, he did that all the time when it came to you, using you as a source of comfort to cling onto whenever he had an especially hard time at work. Whenever he had to stay in his office late into the night, or heard his subordinates gossip about him, only to give him smiles and compliments the second they noticed him, thoughts of you were the only thing that could ground him again. And even when he was doing alright, he still liked to think about you, reminiscing on your past sessions and looking forward to the next. But to have you do the same with him?! Yunho's heart felt like it would leap out of his chest if he didn't calm down soon.

"...Well? Aren't you gonna open it?" You nudged his thigh with your hand, a playful glint in your eyes. "You looked so excited before, don't you want to see what's inside?"

Yunho didn't need any further enticing, flashing you a big grin before he finally reached into the bag. Inside, he found a pretty, dusty pink box with an unknown brand name embossed into its center.

With shaky hands, he lifted the lid.

"What do you think?" You asked, nervously scanning his face.

Yunho was frozen, stuck staring at the custom-made leather collar. Attached to it was a silver tag gleaming in the dim bedroom lights, the word "YUYU" engraved into it staring right back at him.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" You spoke again, trying to hide your growing concern. "We can totally return it if you don't like it, I won't be-"

All the words died in your throat as Yunho suddenly lifted his head, looking right into your eyes as his bottom lip trembled, fighting back tears. The second he spoke, however, they spilled over anyway.

"It's perfect."

"Oh, Puppy," you cooed as a sob ripped through him, bringing him into a tight embrace. The anxiety weighing down on your chest immediately dropped at his words, making you sigh in relief. His hands clutched at your shirt, almost desperately so, wetting your shoulder as he sniffled in your hold.

You stayed like that for a moment or two, soft snivels and affectionate whispers filling the room.

"I- I've never," Yunho began, but quickly stopped again, hiding his face in the crook of your neck some more. It was right then that you'd noticed the unusual proximity between the two of you, never staying this close for more than a second or two when he occasionally hugged you goodbye instead of you tucking him in. But now, it felt as though you were enveloped in him, his comforting warmth and light cologne all around you.

"It's okay, hun," you encouraged him gently, "take your time."

Yunho exhaled heavily, as if steeling himself for whatever he was going to say next.

"It's just- this is everything I've ever wanted but never actually dared wish for, and now that it's real, now that you're real, I don't even know what to say."

Reluctantly pulling away from your embrace, he reached back to retrieve a few tissues from the bedside table. "Every day, I have so many people relying on me, so many people waiting for me to make a mistake so that they could take my place, have to deal with so many awful clients while acting like none of it affects me, and it's just- it's so hard. I've always wanted to have someone who I could be vulnerable with, who I could confide in without fearing they'd use it against me later, but it always seemed too good for me. And then you appeared, and you've made my life so much more bearable, made me look forward to every day because it meant I'd get to see you soon again. No amount of words or money could ever match just how thankful I am for you, seriously."

"Yunho..."

Stunned by the sudden confession, you silently sat and processed his words. Yunho just smiled at your shocked expression, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I know this is a lot to unload on you so suddenly, so please don't feel like you have to respond to any of this right now. We can just brush past this and never discuss it again, I won't be upset. It's just something I've been thinking about a lot lately, and seeing you care for me so honestly made me finally tell you, I guess. Like I said, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but just know that if there's anything, and I mean anything, that I could do for you, just say it and I'll do it. Even if it's something small, like confiding in me the way I do with you, I'm always here for you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his offer, unconvinced. "I'm not really sure you want that, Yu. All of my problems are pretty repetitive and boring, not to mention how annoying and stubborn I can get when stressed. Wouldn't want to break the illusion you have of me, you know?"

...A hand gingerly grabbed yours.

"And what if I tell you that's exactly what I want?" Yunho challenged, a more genuine, playful smile on his lips this time. "I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know you're much more than the persona you put on when you visit me. I want to know the real you, good and bad included - if you'll let me, that is. You already have the keys to the apartment, don't you? My home is open to you anytime, even outside of our sessions."

Just as Yunho had said, this was a lot to unpack on the spot.

And yet, somehow, deep down in your heart, you already knew your answer to his confession, even if you didn't fully want to admit to it just yet.

"I mean," you began hesitantly, mulling everything over as carefully as you could, "there's no harm in trying it, right?"

Yunho's eyes lit up at your words, looking at you hopefully.

"Besides, I come here so often it feels like a second home anyway."

He gave you a thoughtful nod. "Yeah, same here."

"What do you mean?" You asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Exactly what I said before - you." His grip on your hand tightened, the other pointing to the collar sitting in front of him. "I've found my second home in you."

Silence.

It felt as though the Earth had stopped spinning for a second. Everything around you faded into nothingness, leaving you to stare into his eyes.

You don't know for sure how his lips ended up on yours, but judging by the surprised noise coming from him, it must have been you who'd initiated the kiss. Not a second later, however, he replied with matching enthusiasm, resting his palm against your thigh to lean in even closer.

In spite of every cell in your body screaming at you to stay, you eventually pulled away, giving the two of you a chance to breathe. Yunho's gaze was nothing short of reverent, looking at you like you've hung the stars in the sky.

"So? Would you like to try on your present?"

Yunho refused to believe any of this was real.

No matter how much you tried to convince him to take it off, Yunho refused to sleep without his collar. Looking at the way it pressed into his neck when he lay down, you knew there was no way it could be comfortable to sleep in. And yet, Yunho insisted that it was fine, that it actually felt nice despite the way it was smothering his Adam's apple. In the end, you had no option but to concede, tucking your overgrown puppy into bed with the collar still around his neck.

But as you were about to get up to turn the lights off, a hand grabbed yours to stop you. You looked back down at Yunho, being met with his signature pout and teary eyes.

"I know this is a lot to ask, especially considering how much I've asked of you today already, but... stay? Please?"

You gave him a long look, considering your options. Or pretending to consider them, rather, since there was no way you'd be able to deny him anything right now.

"Only because you've been such a sweet boy today, okay?" You said, trying to sound reluctant even though you weren't fooling anyone.

You quickly excused yourself to the bathroom, boldly taking one of Yunho's sleep shirts with you to change into.

Despite his eyelids growing heavier by the second, Yunho bravely fought to keep them up until you'd arrive, sighing in relief when the bathroom door opened again.

No more words were needed as you plopped down next to him, joining him under the blankets before moving to rest your head on his chest. Despite no visible reaction from him, you could hear his racing heartbeat below you, making a soft smile creep up on your lips.

Within the next two minutes, you heard his heart eventually calm down again, breaths evening out as he fell asleep. It took you a while longer to follow, mind struggling to relax with so many thoughts racing through it. What did all of today mean for your relationship? How professional will you be able to stay with him after this? You should probably tell him you haven't had any other clients for months now, shouldn't you.

No use worrying about it now, you suppose. All of those concerns can be solved only once Yunho wakes up again. And until then, you have no choice but to enjoy whatever it is that you have right now, no matter how ambiguous.

Snuggling further into his chest, you finally doze off as well.

Whatever this is, it's perfect.

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[kinkyintherealworld]

Sissification - a toxic construction of femininity or getting off on outdated social constructs?

Becca here. 😀

First… I LOVE THAT YOU STARTED THIS DISCUSSION!!!! Thank you so much @youngchastity - who wrote to us (and tagged us in a post) for some healthy discussion around the sissification kink. We’ve definitely had a few things to say about it on the podcast, as have our guests. You can read his post, that started this conversation, here

Rather than speak for both of us at @kinkyintherealworld, I’m going to jump in and answer this from my point of view.

@youngchastity I love your thoughts on gender - I totally agree. I actually reblogged a post by @necromimetics the other day that said: 

“can’t stop thinking about my friend’s cishet partner who said last night that he doesn’t think anyone is the same gender. god-tier take.”

And I agree - we’re all a wibbly-wobbly swirl of masculine, feminine, and everything in between energies, and everyone has their own unique blend. Trying to squash us into labels is lame as hell. 

I like to think I am never one to kink shame (keeping it safe, sane and consensual), and in world where I (and many other women) want to smash the patriarchy, I may be a bit more sensitive to kinks that look down on femininity - or that’s how I have perceived it to date. As someone who has struggled with gender equality issues in real life (your capitalism comment made me give a disgruntled, but amused, snort), it’s hard to not knee jerk react and feel like I need to defend womanhood/femininity. There is still a power imbalance in the world, and equality is still a goal yet to be achieved, but upon dissection, is in the bedroom, playing with kinks, even a place we need to bring this battle? A question that has been raised to me, even before your message.

It’s funny, because I have actually had your very points discussed with me, last fall with my partner, Misty (who if you have read my personal tumblr is trans-personality who enjoys both sides of the gender spectrum fluidly) - we were on a road trip discussing the two episodes you made note of in your post, episode #16 and #19. And Misty, like you, felt we were missing the mark. S/he felt that in no way does sissification for the purpose of humiliation somehow degrade/make fun of/make lesser femininity. For all the same reasons you stated. S/he and I actually talked about doing a podcast about it, to dive more into the topic, Misty felt that strongly. It should be noted that Misty is NOT into sissification or feminization for the purpose of humiliation, and still she felt that we gave the sissification kink a bum rap. 

Hearing her thoughts and yours, I think it is something that should be revisited and, for me personally, I need to take a closer look at why I find it uncomfortable.

Since you made such lovely points I want to try and address each one!

We’ve established that we both agree the trappings around what we consider to be masculine and feminine are made up (and ridiculous). I think, the kink we are talking about here is ultimately humiliation through outdated (but still most commonly accepted) societal norms. IF you get embarrassed about having those things stripped away, and “forced” into the opposite direction… good for you? I mean seriously, how fun is it to get off in weird and wonderful ways with someone who shares your kink from a slightly different perspective! The reality is, I believe, this isn’t hurting anyone. You want a person to lock up your dick, make fun of your little penis (your actual size is irrelevant), or put you in clothing that bends your mind with eroticism and makes you flustered with sexual need - awesome! Life is too short not to enjoy the kinks we have. The bigger question, if I want to dig into the piece that makes me feel uncomfortable is, “Is there misogyny in the specific kink?” - and the answer to that, for me upon reflection, is no. Misogyny comes from the person performing it. So yeah, some kinky things are done with TONS of misogynistic intent… but that isn’t concentrated in one area. Those assholes are everywhere.

To me, feminization is never something that goes hand-in-hand with sissification. My partner feminized himself (their pronouns are all over the place), in a loving way. To empower the feminine in himself. He has often described it as blooming or becoming a butterfly - his higher form of being. So no humiliation to be found, for either of us on either end. I find it hot as fuck when he is all dolled up. 

I haven't dipped my toes into the humiliation via feminization kink (...yet?), so it’s hard for me to wrap my dirty little mind around it. 

Weirdly I do have a bimbofication kink for myself… sometimes. 😁 If I am in a particular mood for the fantasy. I have never found the right time/partner/energy to explore that. Am I feeling humiliation when I go there? I don’t think so…? More the need to feel desired, trophied (yes I made up that word), and used in a deeply submissive way. I’m not embarrassed about that. ;)   I too would be interested in hearing from women who enjoy humiliating others through feminization/sissification, and how they feel about it. Awesome point! 😀

Celebrating feminization! Now that is my jam! 💗 Give me a soft cute boy, and let me make him weak with wanting to be pretty and obedient for me. To me this is a huge mind shift  - the key word “celebrating”, not shaming. Gosh, I could just sink into this topic like the perfect bubble bath. To me, this is a core element to gentle femdom. It is about making boys better… pretty, soft, sweet things that want to please - the D/s element being a key piece. The submissive to be absolutely loved and worshipped for their submission. No shame, not less than me, and certainly not shifting my own very feminine self. I love the feminine. I love to see it in men, and men embracing that side of themselves. Is this a form benevolent sexism? I don’t know. And more to the point, if I am engaging in it with my partners, writing about it on tumblr, and reblogging things that I enjoy around the topic, am I hurting anyone? Food for thought, but I am going to keep doing my thing. ;) I feel like you can look at BDSM here, and for those who wish to criticize it, could for its dynamics. But that feels like a giant, whole other post.    Another thing you mentioned in this point was the strapon, and it’s use as a symbol of power. I have never seen it that way. To me, it is my soul penis… and I love being able to be inside my partner(s). It is an act of love, and makes me want to bring them to amazing places of pleasure (while I get off too). I really don’t enjoy the pictures of women wearing strapons who look like they want to punish their partner with it. But that’s just me. I know lots of people must enjoy that because there is a shit ton of porn that looks that way.

Playing with gender. I like that - and I do it! I love being able to put on a penis!! I really enjoyed trying my hand at Drag King make up and going out as a boy (I’ll post my picture again). I LOVE seeing boys in make up and fucking gender norms right out the window. You said it in your post - gender is made up and stupid. So yeah, let’s play with it, and maybe even break the molds! Though then you’ll have to find something else to get embarrassed and turned on about. ;) Our kinks are about orgasms and pleasure. Let’s enjoy them. In the end, it is all about intent and the people doing it. Not about the kinks themselves. People who want there to be an imbalance of power between women and men will keep doing mean spirited things to keep that nightmare alive - in the streets and in the sheets.

I feel like I have answered your points (I may have jumped around a bit), and I don’t feel the need to argue any of them. Misty had already shone a light on where I may have not been seeing the bigger picture. 

I am SO HAPPY you wrote us a message, and that you took the time to write out your thoughts (that can be read here). So sorry it took me a while to see it and respond! I am always up for conversation and debating (with kindness) any of the points. 

I definitely feel this topic should be a podcast. Any chance you'd like to be on it @youngchastity? ;) 

Hugs! Becca

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Expanding on the parental feelings ask (in a non-current events direction):

What do you think about Arthur specifically? He's the quintessential jaded bastard, as you've noted, but he also has those very strong paternal feelings. But he's also constantly quashing them due to aforesaid jadedness. So how does that shake out with his people, in general and throughout time? (Like, he's trying to be a better parent to the weans post-world wars - does that translate at all into more paternal feelings for his people?)

Also, if I can ask for two - what about François? More paternal because his people aren't disappointing (sorry Mattie!), or is he just not that type in general?

So after the war, the world, but especially the west, saw a massive baby boom. It's the first time in human history that the vast majority of children grow up to become adults. Some historians theorize this allowed parents to become very invested in their children and, when paired with the suffering the war generation went through, created a contemporary culture in the anglosphere that was very family-centric. People are just popping out babies left, right, and centre. Cultural shifts affect nations the same way they affect people.

So Arthur, who is rapidly losing hard power and increasingly reliant on soft power, is doubly motivated to act paternally. And that does reflect in his interactions with his people. He's always been relatively good with children as they are small and nonjudgmental and tend to like him, but a large part of that extreme jadedness that has coloured his worldview does dissipate somewhat. He wants those policies about the NHS, housing, public welfare, parks and everything else that increases the quality of life more than he ever has. He wants more education; he might even make a scholarship for Kiwi students together in Zee's name at Oxford when he downsized properties. When he's not a toff, drunk off his ass or otherwise terrifying, his citizens will just hand him their children on a train, tram, or bus like, "hold this for me while I tie my shoe, would you?" And suddenly, Arthur just has his hands full of some cranky toddler named something insanely British. Prunella or something similar. And the kid is now utterly contented in what's supposed to be a complete stranger's hold. But Arthur is the weird mascot of like one-third of an island asking, "Yes, good morning, how do you do? Rather a rude face you're making at me, little one, but it is quite early!" So the child is happy enough.

As for Francis, in nationverse, he's paternal in a very broad way. He wants his women to have babies and his schools and universities full of talented children. He wants to make the best of everything he has at his disposal. The French State was the first in the world with regard to what we would now call pro-fertility reforms. And in the aftermath of two world wars, I can see him taking a much more vested interest in the lives of his individual citizens. He's protective, he will absolutely throw shit to protest alongside them. He enjoys young adults very much, and many French university students have had an unexpected cash windfall if they impressed him. He'll move himself on the train for pregnant women or women with small children. He'll even help a tourist haul their overly large stroller down the steps because Americans never plan for facilities lacking elevators. But I don't see him enjoying time around children very much at all. Francis holds a baby fine and will find them a novelty if they're beautiful or otherwise charming babies. Outgoing, social and mature children catch his eye. Francis can engage them for at least a short while, but he doesn't enjoy and has little tolerance for any who are shy, clingy, picky eaters or otherwise excessively needy. The second a baby starts crying, it's back to its mother or caretaker. He's a fastidious man very attached to aesthetics, who likes to eat good food and drink good wine, has nice things and enjoys peace and quiet. Children are messy and unorganized, they're picky eaters, they can't exactly drink a 1997 Chateau Gilette Creme de Tete, and children break things and cry often.

[psionotic]

My Favorite Culture 2023

It's New Year's Eve, so time again for my annual post to this platform! Here are the things I experienced for the first time in 2023 though of course not all of them are from 2023.

—Books—

Tell Me I’m Worthless. There’s something rotten in the haunted house of Albion, and it’s British fascism and increasingly normalized transphobia.

Station Eleven. The world ended, but a small troupe of survivors travel the wasteland, performing Shakespeare and making music.

Friday Black. A collection of science fiction stories that nibble at our social and racial conscience. “Through the Flash” has become one of my favorite short stories.

Klara and the Sun. Another Ishiguro novel narrated by an insightful, sensitive outsider? Check. Sad robots and sick kids? Ow my heart.

Piranesi. A stately, somber fantasy about truth, memory, and identity (re-)formation.

I also enjoyed: Kaiju Preservation Society, The Many Deaths of Laila Starr

Classics I read for the first time: The Scarlet Letter, Billy Budd, Bartleby the Scrivener, Clotel, Little Women, The Awakening, Immortality, Assassin’s Apprentice, Man’s Search for Meaning, The Witching Hour, ‘Salem’s Lot, The Remains of the Day, Between Two Fires, The Leftovers

I was mixed on: Fairy Tale, You Died: An Anthology of the Afterlife

I was bummed out by: California

—Movies—

Godzilla Minus One. Yes, the best movie I saw this year is about a giant nuclear-powered monster. It’s also about found family, redemption, and reckoning with a nation’s trauma—and shame.

Barbie. The anti-Fight Club; an all-singing, all-dancing Jewel of the World.

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Come for the visual and auditory wonderlands, stay for the kinds of character stakes that more literary films can only genuflect towards.

Nimona. An adorable sci-fantasy queer allegory anchored by the punk rock snarl of Chloë Grace Moretz.

The Menu. The world’s most feted, reclusive chef (Ralph Fiennes @ maximum menace) throws an invitation-only dinner for some jagoff 1%-ers. Things get weird and then very, very bloody. Also Anya Taylor-Joy is in this and she’s maybe my favorite working actress..?

I also enjoyed: Polite Society, I Tonya, Elemental, The Marvels, No One Will Save You, Two Distant Strangers, Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3, Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

Classics I saw for the first time: The Haunting (1963), In the Mouth of Madness, Escape from New York, The Warriors, Lady Snowblood, Stalker, Sicario, Hanna, Insidious, Devil’s Pass, Edge of Tomorrow

I was mixed on: Creator, Last Night in Soho [though AT-J does her best!], The Invitation

I was bummed out by: Totally Killer

—TV—

Reservation Dogs. Succeeded Atlanta and Derry Girls as the best show about loveable weirdoes living in fraught circumstances. Now all three are over and I don’t know what to do, except say, “Love you bitches.”

Poker Face. Natasha Lyonne in a Rian Johnson-channeling Knives Out-by-way-of-Columbo joint with fun mysteries, a delicious visual sense, and delightful guest stars playing against type.

Scavengers Reign. Spacefarers separated during an emergency land on an alien world. An alien alien world with a complex, baffling ecosystem. Each is transformed by their experience. Alternatingly beautiful, horrifying, and profound.

Cunk on Earth. In this very British documentary series about the rise (?) of civilization, comedian Diane Morgan (as Philomena Cunk) asks some of the smartest historians and critics some of the dumbest questions imaginable. We’ve watched this maybe ten times this year, and it just keeps getting funnier every single one. Best line: “…they’d probably have a stroke, wouldn’t they?”

I also enjoyed: Silo, Fall of the House of Usher, The Last of Us, Harley Quinn, Scott Pilgrim Takes Off, What We Do in the Shadows, Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, Castlevania: Nocturne, Star Trek: Lower Decks and Strange New Worlds, Last Week Tonight, Taylor Tomlinson’s Quarter-Life Crisis and Look at You, Game Changer

I was mixed on: Star Wars: Ahsoka. Apparently the only nu-SW I can really enjoy is Andor and The Last Jedi…? Sad, this is.

—YT—

Folding Ideas. The best video essay channel covered the Metaverse, BlizzCon, and the GameStop stonks phenomenon this year.

Hbomberguy. The best video essay channel put out only a single video this year, the nearly four hour “Plagiarism and You(Tube)” which broke the internet and ended at least two careers.

Jacob Geller. The best video essay channel put out a half dozen videos this year, covering horror games, “Art in the Pre-Apocalypse”, the non-evolution of execution methods, and more.

Double Fine PsychOdyssey. A 32-part making-of documentary, following an indie game developer trying to build the at-long-last sequel to their most iconic game. During the seven years of development they face personality conflicts, staffing issues, artistic disagreements, the implosion of their publisher, angry fanboys, COVID, near-bankruptcy, a buy-out attempt, and a thousand other obstacles. If you’re interested in game development this is a must, but it’s also highly recommended to anyone involved with or fascinated by making collaborative art under capitalism (theater, film, etc).

—Games—

Baldur’s Gate 3. This was an incredible year for games, but nothing tops Larian Studios’ masterpiece. As good a simulation of an excellent D&D campaign as is possible in the medium, they’ve done just about everything right: deep character creation, memorable side characters and relationships, decisions with consequences that really matter, epic story moments, and satisfying tactical combat through some clever simplifications to the Dungeons & Dragons 5th edition ruleset. People will be talking about (and re-playing) this for a long, long time.

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. The follow-up to one of the most creative and joyful open-world games ever made is even better than its predecessor, with a more heartfelt story and an unsurpassed physics and building system.

Alan Wake 2. Remedy’s Stephen King-meets-Twin Peaks classic got its loooong-awaited sequel. One half survival horror, one half hallucinogenic crazy train, all disturbing surreal goodness.

Marvel’s Midnight Suns. A little X-COM, a little Fire Emblem: Three Houses, marrying satisfying card- and turn-based tactical combat with some lovely character work. I never always knew I wanted to go stargazing with Illyana Rasputin, or watch movies with Nico Minoru, and this year I did both of these. (I also went fishing with Blade and joined a book club with Wolverine, so…).

I also enjoyed: Remnant 2, Dead Cells, Marvel Snap, Dead Space (2023), Resident Evil 4 (2023), Spiritfarer, Ratchet & Clank: A Rift Apart, Super Mario Wonder, Mario Kart 8 (booster courses)

Classics I played for the first time: Psychonauts, Portal 2, Rayman Legends

I was bummed out by: Diablo 4 [congrats to my once-favorite developer for earning this spot two years in a row!]

—Albums—

boygenius: The Record. Supergroup of queer indie-rock darlings put out their first LP and it’s top-to-bottom majesty. “Leonard Cohen” and “Not Strong Enough” might be my favorites now, but “True Blue” was my song o’ the summer and I must have spun it up a hundred times.

Mountain Goats: Jenny from Thebes. The first concert I’ve seen post-COVID was the Sacramento leg of the Goats’ recent tour. “Fresh Tattoo”, “Clean Slate”, and “Great Pirates” are highlights.

Susanne Sundfør: Blómi. I think I prefer the more europop-centric installments in Sundfør’s arty europop oeuvre (Ten Love Songs is still my fave), but there are some lovely songs here in art-music land, including the title track and “fare thee well” .

I was mixed on: Janelle Monáe: The Age of Pleasure, Paramore: This is Why.

—Podcasts—

If Books Could Kill. Michael Hobbes and Peter Shamshiri vivisect nonfiction bestsellers about politics, dating, manifesting, getting rich (quick!), and weight loss. Remember kids: Gladwell is a hack.

Just King Things. Two cultural critics who loved Stephen King as teens take up the Roland-ian task of reading and discussing every King book, once a month, for as long as it takes (the current schedule goes through 2028, but Uncle Steve is still pumpin’ ‘em out, so could be a while).

Triple Click. Kirk, Maddy, and Jason’s weekly non-cynical discussions of games and pop culture is my mood-enhancer. They’re gamers, but not Gamers, you understand.

I also listen to: You’re Wrong About, Hard Feelings with Jennette McCurdy, WTF with Marc Maron, The Besties/The Resties, Strong Songs

[cloudbattrolls]

It’s Over, Isn’t It

Some Perigees Prior | Priori Poster | Clover Park

Priori looked up at the tall indigo, who’d texted her a few nights ago demanding to meet, and she shook her head.

“Erikaa.” She said, almost gently. “Why are you here?”

“Don’t you know?” Spat the highblood. “I thought you knew everything.”

The olive shrugged. They both knew that wasn’t how her power worked - especially if she didn’t want to know something. The whole point of Cherie’s meddling had been to make it controllable. More than it had been, anyway.

She did know it was best to let her former conspirator have a moment of resentment, especially when it wasn’t really Priori the indigo was angry at. A warm wind blew through the park, ruffling each woman’s hair.

“Tabula’s dead.” Erikaa finally said, after they’d both watched several trolls go by, searching for a free picnic table. The park was meant for midbloods - a troll as tall as Erikaa, with her caste and white hair, drew some attention - but no one wanted to bother an indigo in a nice suit, even one without paint.

Priori’s shoulders hunched, and her breath caught for a moment.

The white-haired woman gave her a sardonic look. “Thought that’d get your attention. Looks like she and that ghost hag did each other in. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see it.”

The wyvern troll made no noise, only stared straight ahead. Hm. Well. This made things less complicated, didn’t it?

She came back to herself, tapping her fingers against the aged and cracked wood, not really caring if she got splinters. If it were someone else, they might be lying to her…but that wasn’t Erikaa’s style. Unlike the purpleblood’s former moirail, she’d always been blunt.

“So where have you been instead?” The greenblood asked softly. “You’re a writer, aren’t you?”

The lanky troll stared at her in disbelief and disdain. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say? You clung to that maroon like she was life itself, not that she ever seemed to care. I don’t know why I bothered telling you.” She sniffed, dismissive.

“You want something.” Priori stated simply.

She didn’t mind, she only wanted to know what it was. She could tell it was something desperate, for Erikaa loathed her own needs, loathed coming to a mere oliveblood about them.

“That clinic.” said Erikaa scornfully. “Are they any good?”

The indigo didn’t have to say which one.

“For many things, yes.” Answered the wyvern troll.

“Could they fix me?” She said, deathly intent, leaning forward slightly, her pale eyes narrowed. “Could they take away this curse? I’m tired of it, Priori. I didn’t get suppression tech like you did because I was too ‘useful’. Because I could find everyone they wanted without even trying - I wish I’d had to try.”

Her pale, bony fists clenched. “I saw that medic in charge of it the other night, drawn by my power. She thinks I don’t remember her - she’s wrong. As if I’d ever forget someone like Wistim. She could have helped me. I would’ve paid her anything.”

“She was frightened of you.” Offered the olive softly. “When she was young.”

“Me?” Snorted the indigo, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s Sfinct she should’ve been scared of, back in that godawful place.”

“Mm.” Hummed the other woman, nodding in agreement. Lexius Sfinct had been a threat of many hues, all the more so because she meant well.

Erikaa looked at Priori again, really looked at her, threading her slim fingers together as she stared the much shorter troll down.

“Why aren’t you upset about Tabula? You owe me that.”

Priori Poster had never owed anyone anything, and didn’t plan on starting.

“Why aren’t you upset about Cherie?” She countered, even and mellow.

Her former conspirator’s mouth twisted. Erikaa bit her lip.

“Because they’re not fucking worth it.” She said after a moment, with a quiet spite and disdain that could have shriveled the leaves off any plant.

Priori nodded; she very much agreed.

“Your breakup doesn’t deserve to be mourned; Tabula doesn’t need to be. She should have died long ago.”

“What about you, girl who bargained with gods?” Said Erikaa mockingly. “If you’ve let your lover go, why didn’t you leave like Naeyrn did? What’s even here for you anymore?”

The mechanic gave the highblood her usual smile.

“I want to see what happens.”

The indigo rolled her eyes.

[saurons-pr-department]

Please please please cute orc headcanons

Not certain I can do cute ones, but I can definitely do you some Orc headcanons! (there is little to no logic to the order of the following list)

For context, I subscribe to the version of Orc origins that says they were formerly Elves who were captured by Morgoth and corrupted. I enjoy the messed-up-ness of it, but it also fits nicely with my thoughts on Melkor being the Vala of change, variation and all that jazz.

I believe they've retained traits from their Elvish origins. In particular a love of words. We're told that the many groups of Orcs had different speech. To me, this would suggest that they've kept their Quendi love of inventing new words. Yeah, the other peoples think their languages are harsh and unlovely, but to the Orcs themselves, they've just been inventing words that they think are expressive and interesting sounding. And due to their (probably) having shorter lifespans they just keep splintering off, linguistically.

This love of words extends to a love of puns because I love puns and what's fandom if not the place to inflict all your own loves on your fictional little guys?

Related to that lifespan mention above, I actually can't figure out what would be happening there for them... Death and leaving the Circles of the World is the gift of Men, I don't see the Orcs being given it. Yet I'm not certain of them being welcome in the Halls... Then in terms of lifespan itself, while death is a gift, looking at Númenor we can see that extended lifespan is also a gift, while shortening lifespan is a sign of corruption. Do thay have short lifespans as a result? I think this would be a major concern of Orcish philosophy. An Orc loremaster should have a good chat with Andreth on the topic of Morgoth stealing everyone's immortality. I think they would both be appauled to find out that they had something almost like common ground!

In fact, I think they have quite a complex system of philosophy considering their origins. They were not made by Eru, like the Elves and the Men, and they were not approved like the Dwarves were. Though, how much of that they know I'm not certain. They would probably have learned a twisted version of it from Morgoth. Then we also have the fact that they are ruled by Ainur at times, yet they also hate them. I feel like they have Thoughts TM on the nature of the World.

Like all other peoples in Middle Earth they love singing and recording their own history in song. And, considering Finrod came across humans for the first time and thought that he might be hearing Orcs sing, I'm inclined to think that they are genuinely good musicians. They just happen to sound more Mannish than Elvish. Of course, since their more historical songs are going to be about their point of view, they would prove... distasteful to many of the other peoples, but then again, the reverse would also be true.

Appart from songs that record history, they also of course have fun drinking songs, songs that teach their children things and whatever else they feel like humming at the time.

Speaking of children. 1) Orc children do in fact exist. [1.5) Orc women also exist for that matter. They seem to be even more of a myth then Dwarven women!] 2) Their parents tell them scary stories about Elves and Men to get them to behave.

While the Orcs do hate both Morgoth and Sauron because, surprise surprise, these two view them as tools and not as their people, they also take a weird sort of pride in the fact that their ruler is a Vala/Maia. Like, who else in Middle Earth can say that? (Well.. Doriath, but the Orcs have a Vala while the Elves have a Maia. By the time Sauron is in charge the Elves don't even have that).

Their hatred of both Morgoth and Sauron is what's contributed to the rather decentralised society they default to whenever left alone. Having one all powerful ruler is... not fun times for them. (please mentally insert that Monty Python bit about ladies in lakes being a terrible base for government etc etc).

Much of their culture would probably be shaped by how much contact they have with Ainur. You know what that means? Holy days. Lots of 'em. A day of celebration for the killing of the Trees perhaps? A day of mourning for the arrival of the Sun? Just a general Lord Melkor/Tar-Mairon Is Great Day? Maybe Sauron has spun the sinking of Númenor as purely a positive and they celebrate that? I think they still look up at the stars and the moon and find them worthy of prayer, even if they don't know the names of Varda and Tilion. Though, those festivales are ones that came from their time away from Morgoth and Sauron, all things considered.

They are not stupid. See below points for details.

I think they have very advanced medicine that literally no one else in Middle Earth gives them credit for. Some of this comes from the book and their strengthening drink thing that they give Merry and Pippen and from their appearance in the films. I know it's meant to make them look rough and scary, but I honestly think it just makes it look like they have some advanced, though not pretty, surgical techniques. They highly value those with medical knowledge. How else do you survive your God-King using you as a meat shield??

The Elves and Dwarves love to talk about the skill of their own craftsmenship, but the Orcs literally have one of Aule's Maiar on their side (later two, but that's more the Uruk-Hai I suppose). Do you honestly think that he was letting them run around with subpar equipment?? You think they didn't learn a little something something from him?? He may have viewed them as tools but like you still need to get value out of your tools, you know? Anyway, Orchish craftsmen are amazing and everyone is too busy saying "ewwwww Orcs" to even notice how good they are.

Eh.... I could probably keep going, but I think I'll stop here.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[dank-weedchester]

AITA but it’s beat sheet

transcribed under the cut

[screenshots show a reddit post on r/AmITheAsshole, which reads:

AITA if I sleep with the guy who’s best friend I’m scamming, if I’d also be helping him through his sexuality crisis (a necessary public service) AND he’s also a huge asshole to me

Okay, before anyone says anything, I know I’m definitely the asshole about some of the stuff in here. My question is SPECIFICALLY about my relationship with this guy, which I’ll get into in a second.

Long story short, my family isn’t very nice. They ask me to help them out a lot with business, and sometimes that involves people getting hurt. These are usually bad people, or they would be if we let them get any more powerful, but it’s still not great. Right now my target is this girl, let’s call her Chaz. She’s pretty nice, but I happen to know she’s into some shady shit that directly harms my family, so I don’t feel too bad for what I’m planning to do to her. It was through this girl that I met her best friend, this super fratty guy who is kind of a piece of work. Let’s call him Chad.

I’m gay, so I mostly steer clear of frat guys, but there was something about him that drew me in from the beginning. Well. He’s extremely attractive, but that’s not all. He acts like the straightest guy ever, but it’s almost … camp, in a way? Like he’s overcompensating. And when he’s drunk, I’m pretty sure I’ve caught him checking out dudes. Plus, he’s best friends with Chaz, who’s a lesbian, so there must be something she likes about him.

This might be my ego talking, but I’m pretty sure he’s been into me since we met. He acts like he hates me, but he doesn’t ignore me – in fact, he goes out of his way to let me know how much he hates me. There’s a bit of a homophobe vibe, true, but he didn’t even think I was gay at first (I ride a motorcycle) so I know it wasn’t about that at least to start. And then he acted super weird when he found out I was gay — again, could just be homophobia, but I know homophobia, and it didn’t really feel like that. Later, he asked me if I thought he was attractive. Straight guys do that sometimes, so I tried giving him a once-over to see how uncomfortable he would be, and he turned hilariously red, like he was into it but trying not to be. I’ve tried flirting with him, and at first he’s all like “no way man!” (excuse my imitation of his vernacular) but then two days later he’ll show up at some party I’m at totally wasted and flirt back. And then immediately leave to hook up with some girl, like the most overcompensatory no-homo ever, which is hilarious. It took me a little while to notice how weird his thing about women is — he sleeps with many, if he is to be believed, but he seems to enjoy bragging about it more(?) than the act itself, and I heard from a good source that he’s known for getting girls off and then not asking for anything in return. I don’t know if he’s bi or gay or what, but something is very weird about this man’s relationship to women.

A little while ago, we were at another party (I was stoned, he was drunk) and, I shit you not, he climbed into my lap and sat there for over an hour. I timed it. Later, when I walked him home, he tried to kiss me. I know I’m not wrong about that, I’ve thought about it from every angle.

So I really feel like I could seduce him if I tried. The problem is, I’m still planning on betraying Chaz, and right now it’s nothing personal, but if I sleep with her best friend it might become personal. Chaz will be hurt no matter what (this is where I know I’m the asshole, so don’t bother explaining it to me, although I suppose I can’t stop you), but Chad was never meant to get caught up in this, and if I sleep with him and become his gay awakening, he might end up with his feelings hurt later. On the other hand, he’s already been pretty rude to me, and I know he’s gonna make me do the staying-closeted thing if I go for it, which most other men would probably have a problem with. In fact, I might be the only one around who would put up with all his bullshit long enough to get there with him, and honestly, I think it would be doing him a favor. I can’t emphasize enough how 1. ridiculously fratty and 2. obviously into men this guy is. He’s got some problems and he needs to figure them out. I’d only be helping. Also – and please try to put yourselves in my shoes here – I must reiterate that he is extremely attractive (and, lest we forget, known to be generous). Honestly, I feel like the whole thing cancels out.

Tl;dr I know I’m the asshole for scamming Chaz, but would it be unfair to Chad to sleep with him?]

[reidgraygubler]

caught in the nets (spencer reid/reader)

Title: caught in the nets

Requested: no

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut, fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrive sex, unsafe sex, public sex (public bathroom), fingering, handjob, grinding, groping, heavy petting, fucking with fishnets on, tipsy sex, possessive), hand on jaw/neck (no pressure), swearing, drinking, mentions of a gun, mentions of casework, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3,944

Summary: Spencer loves what reader is wearing while out at a bar with the team

A/N: hi guys, gals, and non-binary pals! Here’s another thing i wrote. this is another thing I was super excited to write. AND I wrote it for one of my bestest friends @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for pom’s server fic swap. I wrote it in literally two days bc I had a week to write it. But it does have a prompt and a few other things she likes in it! also quick shout out to @newportonmymind for proofreading this!! i really appreciate you! I really hope you guys enjoy this piece! Thank you all so much for the love and support! I appreciate it and you! Check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Rough cases will always be the worst. Sometimes they felt hopeless, like we weren’t able to figure out how to save a victim. In the end we were able to save the victim and arrest the unsub. But it was still rough.

So drinks were a must when it came to the end of rough cases. I know it’s a bad thing to turn to drinking in a rough time. But sometimes nothing helped more than a drink. It was easier to relax with a little liquor in your system. Well, it was easier for me to relax with a little liquor. I couldn’t say about the rest of the team.

I was the one who offered up the idea of going to a bar when we returned home. I just needed a little something to help me unwind. Luke, Penelope and Tara were the next to say they’d be coming. After some light convincing, Emily, JJ, and Matt agreed. David was quick to leave before we could get to him about it.

Which left Spencer. At first he put up a fight, arguing that he had to go home. Home to what? We have the same situation. Eventually Penelope wore him down and got him to go.

“Okay, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to change out of these clothes.” I looked down at the business attire I had worn on the plane. I really wished I had changed out of them too, and into something more comfortable.

“Sounds good, Sweetness! See you in a bit.” Penelope looked at me with a smile. I returned the smile before collecting my things from my desk, and leaving.

Part of me wanted to wear a sweatshirt and sweatpants. But I also wanted to wear jeans and a tee-shirt, just to be comfortable. I also wanted to wear something more… party like. Mostly because we’re going to a bar, where there were going to be lots of people. Mmm…

I went with the latter. My outfit ended up consisting of a plain black top, paired with short-shorts and a “comfortable” pair of heels. Under the shorts I wore one of my favorite clothing items, a pair of black fishnets. They were one of my favorite things because I always gained the attention of someone. And I usually enjoyed that attention. I just don’t know whose attention I wanted.

Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I grabbed my bag and left for the bar. I was the first to leave the BAU, but the last to show up to the bar. Even Spencer was there before me, which was a rarity.

“Hey sorry I’m late. Traffic was nuts… And I just wanted to look nice,” I laughed nervously as I looked down before sitting beside Penelope. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I tried to avoid the feeling of the stares. At first I tried to not be self-conscious, after all I was the one who wanted to dress a little more… sexy and get the attention of others.

“What are you wearing?” Luke asked after he took a sip of his beer. I looked down at my attire and shrugged.

“Wanted someone’s attention. Figured I’d get it here.” I gestured around the room towards the many groups of people. “Already got yours, Lukey-poo,” I cooed as I looked at him. He looked back at me with a weird look in his eyes. “Where’s Spence?”

“He went to get a drink.” JJ nodded towards the bar before sipping her drink. I looked over my shoulder and towards the bar. My eyes quickly identified the lanky and awkward body of Spencer standing beside the bar as he waited for a drink.

“Has the bartender been flirting with him the whole time?” I looked back at the team with wide eyes. Tara looked over at JJ with a smug smile before nodding. “No ones gonna save him?” “Figured we’d give him a try first.” Matt shrugged as he looked back at me. I let out a mildly annoyed sigh before standing up.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked as she looked at me. I smiled as her eyes very slowly lingered down my body. There was an obvious struggle, and I liked that. I was definitely getting the attention I craved tonight. Even though it’s from my superior.

“Gonna go save boy wonder from inevitable embarrassment that he will probably succumb to.” I rested my hand on the table as I looked at the team. JJ and Emily shared a knowing glance. “And I’m getting myself a drink.” I shrugged before shoving my hands in my small pockets and walked towards the bar and Spencer.

“Hey Spence!” I exclaimed as I looked at him. He looked away from the bartender and smiled. His smile, however, quickly melted away and a hungry look took over his eyes.

“H-hey,” he mumbled before looking back at the bartender. She looked between me and Spencer before muttering a few profanities and walking away. I smirked before taking the space up beside Spencer.

“You seeing something you like, Reid?” I asked as soon as I noticed him staring at me again. I leaned over the bar beside him and smiled.

“I.. Uh, I…” He cleared his throat before looking away from me and down at the counter. Well, maybe I did know whose attention I wanted…

“Anyways, I’ve come to save you.”

“Save me?”

“The bartender…” I whispered before nodding in her direction. Spencer looked down at her and we both caught her looking between us before dropping her gaze.

“The bartender?”

“Just get your drink and come on,” I laughed before standing up and away from the counter. Spencer looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. He was obviously confused as to what I was talking about. But I’ll honestly save him the embarrassment. “Oh, wait. I want a drink too!” I exclaimed as I leaned over the counter.

Once we both had our drinks, I silently led him back to the table. I enjoyed the feeling of people’s eyes on me as I walked by them. I could even sense Spencer staring at me. To be fair, my shorts were a little on the shorter side…

Maybe the attention I was getting was from the person I wanted it from the most…

Spencer and I returned to the table, and we were quick to join into whatever conversation they were having. The entertaining stories that Matt told about his kids made everyone go into a fit of laughter.

The laughter only grew the more drinks that everyone had consumed. We weren’t exactly drunk, well some of us weren’t drunk. But when someone in the bar orders a round of drinks for the table, it’s hard to say no.

JJ, Spencer and Matt were the only ‘mostly sober’ ones. Followed by Tara and me being tipsy, but sober enough to know what was happening. Penelope, Luke and Emily had enough to drink and had left the table to go dance with each other and random people in the bar.

“I wanna dance,” I muttered as I looked down at the table. Matt cleared his throat, causing me to look up at him. He was nodding a Spencer, who was looking around the room at all the other people. A small smile grew across my lips before I jumped from my seat. Spencer and JJ both looked at me with shock on their faces.

I looked right at Spencer and smiled. “You.” I pointed at him. “Me.” Then I pointed at myself. “We’re dancing,” I spoke as I jerked my thumb behind me. Spencer’s face fell slightly as he watched me walk to stand in front of him. I smiled as his eyes lingered on my body for a brief moment before landing on my face. “Come on. Let’s leave mom and dad alone.” I lifted a hand for him to take. He looked at it for a moment before hesitantly placing his hand into mine.

Once he stood, I dragged him over to the dance floor, where we both stood still. I didn’t know what was going through his head, but I wished I did. His body wasn’t tense, in fact I could tell he liked that I was being daring and the close proximity I was in.

We, and by we I mean me, hardly danced. It was mostly just me. And my dance moves consisted of me grinding on him. Which seemed to rile him up enough to entertain me. I enjoyed it more when he rested his hands on my hips and held me in front of him.

I looked around the room at all the people, watching as they continued dancing with their friends and people. Then I looked back at Spencer before grabbing his hand. His once hazel eyes were blown out black and a look of hunger and lust was settled in them. He looked like he knew what he wanted, and he was about to do anything in his power to get it too.

I looked away from him and around the room, again, looking for a familiar face. It wasn’t that I needed someone to save me from this moment. No. I needed to make sure none of our friends saw what I was about to do next.

I turned to face Spencer again and pressed my chest to his. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled them flush against his. The breath was knocked from my lungs when I felt how hard he was through his slacks and my shorts.

I grabbed his wrist and turned away from him before dragging him out of the bar and towards the bathrooms. He didn’t say anything when I pulled him into the women’s bathroom and into a stall. I’ll forever be grateful for that too because I don’t know where else we would go to.

I pulled him into a stall and locked it before pushing him against the door. His lips quickly attached to mine, and before I knew it his teeth grazed across my lower lip. And just like before, when we were out in the bar, his hands fell back to my hips and he pulled me against him. He rolled his hips to mine, pressing his bulge into my body.

“I can’t believe you,” Spencer groaned against my mouth. I looked up at him and smirked. “Why’s that? What makes me so unbelievable?” I whispered as I pressed a hand to his front. Spencer’s body froze and a hiss came from his lips.

“You coming to this bar, dressed like that, acting like you own the place,” his voice was low as he spoke. I smiled before I looked for his belt. “Acting like you aren’t arousing every man-- and woman-- here. That’s right, I saw the way Emily looked at you,” he continued as he looked at me.

“I just wanted attention from someone. But I’m sure happy that it’s your attention that I’m getting, Spencer,” I whispered before I pressed my hips against his.

“Well… I don’t think you’ll be getting attention from anyone else other than mine from now on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re mine now, Sweetness,” he mildly mocked the pet name Penelope had given me earlier today. I stared at him, my breathing growing shallow. “And no one else’s.” Goosebumps grew like fire across my skin once I realized the honesty and reality of his words. Or, well, I should say his possessiveness. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted or believed what he said, but a moment passed and I realized… I wanted it so bad.

We both fell into a silent stare down. My hands, however, kept busy as they looked for his belt. But then a smirk grew across my lips the second I realized he still had a hard on waiting for me.

I was quick as I tried undoing his belt buckle, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But he obviously did when I began struggling and fumbling for a moment.

“Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me, Reid?” I whispered as I carefully slipped my hand into his pants and briefs. My question was otherwise rhetorical. I knew for a fact it was a gun. But I also knew it wasn’t a gun.

Spencer took a deep breath of air once my hand was wrapped around his length. I smiled as I slowly moved my hand back and forth, gently applying pressure.

“It’s a gun,” Spencer returned, keeping his voice low, “But I’m more than happy to see you. Trust me.” I could tell he was trying to be sly with his words. Because when he started talking his voice was deep and a little rough, but as he continued on talking, they got a little shaky and a little bit higher. I wanted to mock him, but I knew better than to do that.

“Oh… I do,” I whispered as I quickened my pace. My lips were hovering over his. His breath fanned across my face, and I could just barely smell the gin and tonic he had drank earlier.

My heart was beating hard in my chest because I was about to fuck my co-worker in the bathroom at fucking bar. I wondered if his was doing the same thing. I wondered if his thought process was the same as mine too.

I also wondered if he felt the same way. Maybe I’ve always wanted the attention from Spencer. He was right there, and always has been, and always will be. Plus we’ve known each other for years. So what’s the harm? Maybe he felt the same?

The grip Spencer held on my hips started to tighten as I continued to stroke his length. I could feel his tension growing the longer I went. My lips slowly curled at the corners as I realized how much I was going to enjoy this.

Then it happened. Spencer flipped our positions so I was pressed against the door. Both of my wrists were in one of his hands, held above my head. His other hand was already messing with the button of my shorts.

“You think you’re the only one who can do that, Sweetness,” he whispered before pressing his lips to my neck. It was his turn to grind his hips against mine, easily taking my breath away again.

“Spence…” I gasped once his hand was finally down the front of my shorts. I tried hard to pull my hands from his hand, but his grip only tightened.

“See, two can play at this game,” he spoke softly as he swiped a finger up my slit. I bit my lips together as he gently moved his finger around the sensitive nub between my thighs. “But unlike you I’m going to let you finish.”

“I was go-oh…” I whimpered as my knees buckled down causing my hips to grind on his hand. He smiled before carefully pushing a finger into my entrance. It was suddenly hard to concentrate as he curled his fingers just right.

“That’s what I thought,” Spencer murmured against my ear before moving his mouth to the corner of my mouth, then to my neck. A small moan fell from my mouth as he sucked a spot onto the base of my neck.

I stayed silent as Spencer continued whispering dirty things in my ear. Part of me almost forgot who I was with. Not because of what was happening, but because of what he was saying. I had no clue Spencer could say such dirty things. My train of thought was all over the place, derailing the moment I would gain a coherent thought.

Once I did eventually finish on his fingers, he pulled his hand from my shorts and looked down at me. It was a silent moment of a stare down. I was quiet because I was sure of what was about to happen. I was about to fuck Spencer Reid. I was willing to bet Spencer was calculating how long the events of everything would take. I didn’t care, I just wanted it and I wanted it now.

I broke the stare down, looking down at his slacks and the bulge that was still pressing against the fabric. I silently undid the button and zipper and pushed his pants down.

Spencer stopped me before I could do anything else. I looked up at him, my eyes staying on his face as he pushed down my shorts. Then it happened. I was expecting sex to happen like normal. Half naked.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he started getting ready. My tights were still on me properly. He didn’t forget. Man has the best mind in the world. He wouldn’t forget about my tights.

“Wait,” I whispered as I went to pull my tights off, but Spencer stopped me. His hand wrapped around my wrist before he pulled it away. “I gotta take my tights off if we-Oh…”I looked up at him with wide eyes once I realized what he wanted.

“Keep them on,” he whispered so softly I almost didn’t hear him. I nodded lightly. Truth be told, I could see the appeal in it. I did wear the fishnets for a reason. And I knew how I looked in them.

“I can do that.”

Spencer hoisted one of my legs around his waist and pressed my body against the wall. I stared at him, my arms wrapped around his neck to keep me up right. He also helped keep me up by keeping his hands on my hips. Once I was steady, Spencer ripped a hole in the crotch of my tights.

My teeth bit down on my lower lip as he dragged the head of his cock down my pussy. I almost couldn’t handle the way he teased my entrance. I wondered if he could see how frustrated I was starting to get. He’s a profiler. He should just know already how much I needed this.

“I swear to-” ‘God, Spencer.’ My words were cut off with a moan as he pressed into me all at once. It was hard to keep my head up right, and I fought for a moment before finally dropping it to rest on his shoulder. I brought my hand to my mouth and bit down.

Spencer moved a hand around to rest on my bottom. My mouth fell as his hand began massaging my flesh. That, paired with the way he began moving his hips started becoming too much for me.

He looked down at me, sweat beginning to mat down his hair to his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he picked up his pace. My leg around his waist pulled him closer to me.

“Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop,” I whined as he finally moved closer to me. My body began moving up and down the door. The cloth of my tank top had started riding up, and my hot skin was instantly touching the cool steel door.

Spencer lifted a hand to my head, placing it on the backside before pulling my face to his. His lips pressed everywhere on my face, not one spot was ignored. I pulled my hands away from his neck and grasped his shirt and tie, keeping him in his spot.

“You could’ve worn anything and I still would have wanted to fuck you. Sweatpants and oversized tee-shirt, that pencil skirt you wore back in Oklahoma… But the fishnets really do take the cake.”

“I-I knew someone would like them.” I tried to keep my voice steady. But it was so hard when pressure began growing in my stomach and between my legs.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? You here, looking like this,” his voice was almost a growl. My chest began heaving with each word he said and each movement he made. “Too damn long, that’s how long.”

Spencer removed his hand from the back of my head and dropped it to between my legs, resting it high on my thigh. His thumb moved back and forth on my leg, over the material of the fishnets. The look in his eyes drove me wild, and I loved it so, so much.

“Better me than anyone else. I’m not willing to share.” Spencer actually growled as he moved his finger to the crest of my legs. He smiled when I looked up at him with a mildly panicked look in my eyes. “Do you understand why, Sweetness?”

“N-no.”

“As I told you earlier, you’re mine,” he struggled as he tried to hold back a moan.

“Fuck,” I cried as my head dropped back down to his shoulder. I pressed a hand to the wall beside me. I gasped for air as the pressure in my stomach grew to the point of exploding.

“Only I can make you feel like this. You got that, Sweetness?” Spencer groaned, which quickly caused me to nod.

It was impossible to stay quiet as the pressure built up more. The situation was pushed more as soon as Spencer started moaning more into my ear. It was so overwhelming the second he said my name.

And then it happened. I finished before him. But it wasn’t too long after that a familiar warmth spread throughout me.

Spencer dropped his head to my shoulder, and we were both left in panting, breathless messes. My eyes were stuck open as I tried recollecting myself.

“I waited a long time for that too, Spencer,” I whispered, breaking the silence after a few minutes passed. He laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Of course you do.” I shook my head and pushed his body off mine. He looked down at me with a smirk. “What… What does this mean?”

“Could mean anything. We let things happen naturally, or we pretend nothing happened at all. I’d prefer the former, if I’m going to be honest with you.” He gently lifted a hand and rested it on my face. My nose twitched as soon as I felt something rolling down my thigh. Then my eyes widened.

“N-naturally… Yeah,” I whispered, mostly to myself, as I reached for a wad of toilet paper. I quickly cleaned up the mess that was between my legs and shook my head.

“We should go. Get you properly cleaned.” Spencer spoke up once I was done cleaning myself a bit.

“Well now we gotta go out there and pretend like nothing happened,” I whispered as I looked up at him. Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “Where did this sudden cockines come from?”

“When I realized you could have any guy in the bar… And you chose me.” He smiled before wrapping an arm around my waist. I widened my eyes as we exited the bathroom and entered the crowd of people together. People stared at us as we walked by, but I couldn’t tell if it was both of us they were staring at or just me. Spencer’s grip around my waist tightened as he pulled me closer to him. “Remember, Sweetness… I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” his voice was low. My body stiffened once the reality of his words hit me. His.

“Where were you guys?” Emily looked between Spencer and I. I looked at her with wide eyes, my expression telling her (and the rest of the team) everything they needed to know. I’m sure I looked like a hot fucking mess.

“Sweetness here was outside not feeling too well. So I brought her to the bathroom and helped her out a little bit,” Spencer lied with a smile.

Even he knew the lie was useless. But I think everyone would rather believe the obvious lie than rather just know the truth. To be fair, I’d rather tell them all a useless lie rather than the truth. “She still doesn’t feel too well. So I’m going to take her home.”

“Oh! Bummer! I hope you feel better!” Penelope was the first to speak up. I was thankful too that she played along because I really couldn’t handle that embarrassment…

“I will.. Hopefully by morning… I’ve got the best doctor I know taking care of me.” I smiled softly as I looked up at Spencer. He glanced back at me with a smile.

“Have a nice rest of the night.” Spencer nodded to the team before guiding me away from the table and towards the front doors.

“My place or yours?” I looked back at him once we were finally outside and walking towards his car.

“Mine.”

if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here

taglist: @thebluetint​ @muffin-cup​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencersmagic @90spumkin​ @jareids​ @broken-stardust​

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

F*cking up the friendship

Word count: 3501

Genre: Angst and fluff

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol (let me know if I need to add any)

Summary: You sometimes forget Nat and Wanda are dating each other but when they go off on a date you feel sad and add alcohol to the mix, unable to fully control your words around them when they come back.

A/n: I’ve been in a huge wandanat x reader mood recently so you’re probably going to get spammed with a lot of these. Originally this was supposed to be a 1k words get together fluff fic that was suggested to me but then I added angst and other stuff so I decided to make the fluffy get together fic separately. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this, I spent hours yesterday writing so I could finish it in one day. 

You sigh loudly as you flip through Netflix, finding nothing interesting to watch. Usually on a Friday night you would be doing something with Wanda and Nat but today they had told you they had a special date planned so you haven’t seen them at all. It was a completely horrible idea to fall in love with your two best friends who happened to be dating each other but your heart betrayed your brain and now you were stuck in this situation, finding it impossible to get over the two most amazing women you had ever met. Spending nearly all your time with them did not help and everyday you feel your heart break a little when they kiss each other in greeting but only give you a smile. You know you should be thankful for their friendship, and you are, but it also pains you to know that there can never be more. 

You imagine what it would be like to share kisses and wake up wrapped in their arms. One time when you had fallen asleep on the couch after staying up late watching movies with them Natasha had carried you to bed and tucked you in and Wanda had said goodnight with a kiss on your forehead. You never talked about that night because you had pretended to be asleep but you replay it over and over in your mine, wishing that it wasn’t a one time thing. They are so strong, so kind, so smart and just so amazing in every possible way. It’s fitting that they are together but it also sucks to have to watch the perfect people have a perfect relationship while you pine silently, always trying to be a supportive friend. 

You try to think positive thoughts but you can’t help but wonder what they could be doing now which ruins your mood. Nothing on Netflix looks good to watch by yourself with nobody to make fun of cringy rom-coms with or to hide your face in during horror movies. It’s almost scary how much time you’ve spent with them recently and how reliant you’ve come to be on it. Come to think of it you can’t remember the last time they went on a proper date and you start to wonder if by watching movies with them you were actually intruding upon their alone time. You hope they would have been honest and told you if you were but they have always been nothing but nice to you so it’s possible they just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. 

Giving up on watching altogether you throw the remote aside carelessly, wincing when it bounces off the couch and hits the floor with a bang, and stand up. Making your way out of the living room and over to the room where the mini bar is you push all the thoughts from your mind, focusing only on the fact that you really need a drink right now. You don’t bother to turn the lights on when you enter the room, heading straight for the bottles and pouring some whiskey into a glass, much more than a recommended size. 

Sitting down on the couch you take a gulp. It burns and tastes disgusting, you’ve never been one for drinking but tonight you enjoy the feeling, not drinking for pleasure but drinking to hopefully forget. It takes about an hour before your thoughts get all muddled and you feel more relaxed. You slowly start to close your eyes and drift off to sleep when you are woken suddenly by a thump and a stream of curse words. You startle and your hand jerks spilling the rest of your drink all over your lap. 

Natasha and Wanda are standing a few feet in front of you. Natasha is looking at you with an expression you can’t recognize in your inebriated state and Wanda is clutching her foot, looking darkly at the leg of the coffee table. 

“Shit.” You mumble loudly, both at spilling your drink and at seeing them while drunk. This wasn’t supposed to happen, they were supposed to still be gone and now you’ve just embarrassed yourself completely in front of them. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Natasha is at your side in an instant, cupping your face in her hands, “let’s get you cleaned up okay?”

Wanda is there a second later, hovering. “And then maybe you could tell us what’s wrong.”

“Nothhhing’s wrong.” You slur, standing up. “Goodnight.”

“No no no, you’re not going anywhere by yourself right now.” Natasha tells you firmly, grabbing your arm. You don’t protest, partly because you know they are both stubborn and will always win and partly because you secretly want to spend as much time with them as possible. 

“Listen to Nat,” Wanda advises, “can you walk?”

“I can walk.” You say, crossing your arms and trying to look serious

Natasha raises an eyebrow, doing a horrible job at stifling her laughter for a spy. “Show me then.”

You take a few steps forward, looking triumphantly at Natasha before you stumble, arms flailing out and grabbing Wanda to prevent yourself from falling. Wanda helps pull you back up straight and kisses you on the forehead.

“I think the correct answer to the question is no.” She tells you amused. “Let me help you.” 

She doesn’t wait for a response and hooks an arm underneath your shoulders to help support your weight. You lean into her and match her steps, frowning when Natasha hurries away in front instead of walking with you.

“She’s just going ahead to grab something.” Wanda whispers, noticing your expression. You feel your entire body shiver from the sound of her whisper in your ear. Luckily she doesn’t mention it and just tightens her grip around you and continues until you’ve reached their shared room.

You stare at the door in confusion. “What are we doing here?”

“Did you really think we would leave you alone when you’re drunk and obviously upset about something?” She asks rhetorically. “We want to take care of you.”

You’re glad she’s holding you up otherwise you’re afraid you would have melted to the floor from her words alone. She pushes the door open and leads you inside. Natasha is waiting and hands you a pile of clothes. You recognize the bottoms as Wanda’s favourites and the top as Natasha’s shirt. 

“For me?” You ask, confused. She had handed them to you but maybe she actually wanted to give them to Wanda seeing as it’s their stuff.

“Yes for you silly,” she says smiling, “are you able to change by yourself in the bathroom?” You nod, feeling slightly more sober now.

“Okay just be careful and call if you need us.” Wanda tells you before stepping away from your side. You already miss her warmth but you pretend to be unaffected and head into the bathroom to change. 

It takes longer than usual, in part because you accidentally tried to put both legs in the same hole at first, but you managed to undress and put the pajamas on. They’re soft and smell like a mixture of them and you will deny it if asked but you hold the shirt up to your nose and breathe it in before realizing how weird that is. Walking back out of the room you shift nervously, unsure of what to do with both Natasha and Wanda staring at you intently.

“Come here sweetheart.” Natasha says and you immediately comply, heart pounding at the endearment, sitting down beside her on the bed in between her and Wanda. “Do you want to tell us why you got drunk now?” You shake your head furiously, only stopping when it starts to make you nauseous. 

“No, I don’t really-” You get cut off by your own yawn, suddenly very tired. 

Wanda giggles. “Let’s get you to bed now.”

You start to pout, upset that you have to leave and go back to your room but before you can move she uses her powers to gently float up the bed to the pillows, pulling you with her. Natasha joins you and cuddles you from behind so you’re pinned between them. Your eyes feel so tired but you try to fight sleep, wanting to stay in the moment forever. 

“Goodnight Y/n.” Natasha says and you stop resisting and start to relax. 

“Night Tasha I love you.” You tell her sleepily. “I love you too Wanda.”

“Sleep well Y/n.” Wanda replies, giving you a short kiss on the top of your forehead. You feel so warm and safe between them and it only takes another minute before you’re fast asleep.

---

You try to move but something strong and warm is holding you down. Your eyes fly open and the first thing you see is Wanda’s face, inches from your own. Natasha must be behind you because you can feel her wrapped around you and her small breaths blowing the back of your head. It’s nice but you can’t remember how you got here so you wrack your brains, ignoring your headache. You were sad so instead of watching a movie you started drinking, then they found you and then they took you back here and after that-SHIT. Shit shit shit shit shit you had told them you loved them. 

You aren’t naive enough to believe they think you meant it in a platonic way, you never tell your friends you love them and Natasha and Wanda are both really smart and can easily tell what you’re thinking. You just hope that they don’t tease you about it because you don’t think you could handle anything but being let down gently. 

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha asks from behind you. You hadn’t realized she was awake already but somehow she noticed you are, she’s scary with how much she knows sometimes. As much as you know this conversation will be awkward and painful you know there’s no point in delaying it and it’s best if you have control over it. 

“That I’m sorry.” You tell her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She says gently, sitting up, understanding what you’re referencing. 

“No I do, I made things weird and I didn’t want to do that.” You say, hating yourself for the lump that forms in your throat. You start to untangle yourself from Wanda, trying hard not to wake her. This conversation is difficult enough with one person, if Wanda wakes up you’ll most definitely start to cry and the last thing you want is for them to feel bad or to pity you. 

“Y/n-” She starts but you interrupt her, not wanting to hear it. 

“I hope we can still be friends.” You say making your way to the door before pausing. “Please tell Wanda I’m sorry and that I need some time to myself for the day but after that I will pretend nothing happened.”

“Y/n, please-” 

This time you cut her off by closing the door. You run to your room. You don’t think she’ll try to follow and catch up with you but you don’t want to take any chances and you certainly don’t want the others to see where you’re coming from and your shame to get deeper. You are stupid, so stupid, you shouldn’t have gotten drunk and you should have kept your stupid mouth shut. Their friendship means everything to you and although Natasha didn’t seem like she would stop being friends with you over it things will definitely be awkward for a long time and you’ve seen friendships crumble because of it. 

Luckily you make it to your room without anybody noticing and you take a few breaths to calm yourself, closing your eyes. It helps for a second but when you open them again you’re looking straight into your mirror and you can see yourself wearing their clothes and immediately feel the tears start to come. You jump onto your bed and bury yourself fully under the covers, trying to stop crying because you don’t deserve to, it was your fault, and crying only makes everything worse, including your headache. 

---

Natasha shakes Wanda awake only to hear her groan and shift, attempting to fall back asleep. 

Rolling her eyes she tries again. “Wanda. Wanda. Wanda wake up.” Wanda moves slightly and lets out incoherent mumbles before waking up more and sitting straight up.

“Where’s Y/n?” She asks alarmed, remembering you were here when she fell asleep.

“That’s why I’m waking you up; she left.” Natasha tells her and Wanda frowns.

“Why?”

“Because we messed up and now she thinks we don’t love her.” Natasha explains. “She thinks that she ruined our friendship by telling us she loved us last night since we didn’t say it back and she left before I had time to correct her.”

“Oh crap.” Wanda says, thinking about how things seemed for you. From your point of view you had drunkenly confessed your feelings to people in a relationship before falling asleep with them not saying it back. 

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, “I know we weren’t planning on doing the thing until this evening but I think we should do it now, we can’t let her be upset for any longer.” 

“You’re better at talking so you should get her while I set it up.” Wanda says and Natasha nods in agreement.

“Be as quick as possible, we will hopefully be there in ten minutes.” Natasha tells her before giving her a quick peck. Wanda sighs dreamily, imagining what it’s going to be like when she is dating both you and Natasha (provided you say yes of course but Natasha is certain you will and she trusts Natasha). 

Leaving her room Natasha quickly makes her way to yours and knocks on the door. 

“Go away.” You say and she can’t stand how sad and self loathing you sound just from those two small words.

“No,” she replies, “I need to talk to you.”

“Please.” You beg, your voice cracking in desperation. You can’t see her right now, not like this. She doesn’t listen, hating to ignore you but knowing that if she talks to you she can hopefully make it all better.

“Oh Y/n.” She sighs upon opening the door and seeing your lump under the covers. “Sweetheart it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not, I fucked up our friendship Nat!” You cry out, still refusing to show your face.

“No baby you didn’t.” She tells you, the endearment accidentally slipping off her tongue in her attempts to comfort you. “Please just give me a minute to explain some things.”

“Okay.” You sniffle, both confused and curious. You hate that you’re even a tiny bit hopeful at her words and you attempt to squash those thoughts down to spare as much of your heart that hasn’t already been hurt. 

“I would love to see your pretty face when I talk to you.” She prompts, gently lifting the edge of the covers. You slowly peek out of them like a turtle, well aware and slightly embarrassed of the fact that you look like you’ve been crying (which you have but it’s still embarrassing).

“There we go, that’s much better.” She tells you smiling. Even though you’re upset you can’t help but crack a wobbly smile back at her, her happiness really is infectious. She stares at your shirt as you pull more of yourself out from under the covers and you flush when you realize that you had never bothered to change and are still wearing her shirt. 

“It looks nice on you.” She says softly, reaching out to touch the hem before clearing her throat and switching into business mode. “I think you got the wrong impression.”

“I know I never should have-” You start to apologize, scared of her shift in mood. 

“That’s exactly what I mean.” She interrupts. “You seem to think that you’ve ruined our friendship by telling out how you feel but I can assure you that’s not the case at all and we are actually both extremely happy about your feelings.”

“Why isn’t Wanda here then.” You ask skeptically. 

“Because she’s in the living room where I’m supposed to bring you.” Natasha replies. “Will you come?”

“I don’t know,” you say nervously, “are you sure that…” you trail off, unsure of what else to say. 

“Y/n,” Natasha says and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close she is to you, “it will be good I promise.” 

As soon as she finishes speaking she leans in and her lips are on yours. It’s better than any of the times you’ve dreamed and it’s the perfect mix between hard and passionate but also soft and sweet.

“Wow.” You breathe when she pulls away after a few seconds, unable to think of anything else. 

She laughs. “Wanda’s going to be jealous that I got to do that before her and as much as I’d love to kiss you again we shouldn’t keep her waiting for too long.”

You nod silently and take Wanda’s hand when she offers it as she stands up and starts to walk out of the room.

“Wait,” you say just before you leave, “maybe I should change first.”

She looks over your (well technically their) clothes. “You are not changing, I like you wearing our stuff.”

You’re surprised to hear the slight possessive growl in her voice but it makes you incredibly happy. The start to this day had to be one of the worst in your life but it’s quickly becoming the best. Feeling as though you’re floating you allow her to pull you through the halls into one of the living rooms, the one you usually use for watching movies.

Wanda is sitting on the couch looking at the door when you come in but what catches your eye is the sheer amount of stuff around her. There are heaps of all your favourite candies and chips all around her and there’s a cute stuffed bear.

“Do you like it?” She asks and instead of answering you let go of Natasha’s hand and throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her waist tightly.

“I think that means yes.” Natasha says, laughing at your enthusiastic reaction.

“I love it,” you tell them, “I love-” You stop yourself before you tell them you love them again because even after all this you’re still not sure if that’s what they want to hear. 

“We love you too Y/n.” Wanda says and you sigh in both happiness and relief at her words. “Nat do you want to give her the thing now?”

You pull away from Wanda to look over at Natasha, curious as to what the thing is. Natasha picks up a small red jewelry box from the table that you hadn’t noticed earlier in your excitement and hands it to you. They both watch as you open it, suddenly nervous that you won’t like it.

You open it up to see a necklace with two charms on it and two charms that are identical lying beside it. Upon closer inspection you gasp, recognizing the the letter charms n and w as the same ones Natasha and Wanda wore on their necklaces, reminding them of each other. The charms lying beside it are the first letter of your name, presumably for them to add to their necklace. You feel yourself tear up at how sweet and thoughtful this gesture is. 

Wanda breaks the silence first. “This is what we were doing yesterday and it took all day because they were custom made so we wanted it done by the same person so it would look the same. We thought it would be nice for us to give you this when we officially asked you out so you don’t feel like an outsider or anything because we really like you and want things to go well.”

“What she’s trying to say is will you go out with us.” Natasha says, halting Wanda’s rambling. 

Wanda smiles sheepishly. “What she said.”

You slowly look up, careful not to let any tears fall and launch yourself into their arms, pulling whatever part of them you are holding towards you. 

“I think you already know the answer by now but I would love to.” You say, still trying to get as close to them as possible. They wrap their arms around you tightly and moving together they lift you a few steps to the couch and plop you down, sitting and cuddling on either side of you.

“Today’s movie day and we’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” Natasha promises and you hum happily in reply. You don’t care at all about what type of dates you go on or even if you go on them at all because you’re dating the two most amazing women in the world and that’s a high you’re going to be riding for a long time, possibly forever.

---

Taglist: @cherryblossomskye @aaron-despair @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @redswing​ @mxxnmocha​ @king-star​ 

[rottingsparrow]

Oh boy oh boy here it is my thoughts on Lore Olympus episodes 1-10 I didn't include any pictures because I'm figuring out how I wanna do this also im tired but here it is:

Episode One: Stag, You’re It

Why the title

Minthes hair like connects to her head without a line not bad just a comment

Hades’ sharp ass nose but I enjoy the colors, not super bright yknow

Hera looks so cool but also like snatched almost unnaturally

She is a god tho so

Zeus lets goooo such a solid color imo

Im sorry but artemis’ hair is a lil ugly

Love that all the main characters are snatched /s

Episode Two: Who is She?

And Persophone is now 3 shades lighter ok

Also like i hate the dress Artemis gives persephone it ugly

Persophones hair changed lengths like 2 times but maybe im seeing it wrong

Also artemis if she doesnt wanna be here leave wtf

How is. How is hades holding his drink

Zeus changed colors king

I understand lighting and shading but like. Damn

Ok so if Poseidon hates Odysseus does that mean the events of the Odyssey already happened

Ep 3: Who is She pt 2

LMAO what is hades’ nose

Why did she have random parts w/ no color not a complaint just curious

HER FOREHEAD SO LARGE IN THIS ONE PANEL

“Short sighted” Do we ever see him wear glasses again

Zeus’ lil. Hair thingies keep disappearing

“Honestly i think she puts Aphrodite to shame” wow comparing women/hj

Seriously tho like. why

Ep 4: Who is she pt 3

Idk why she does random scenes where the characters are all like just one color. Not bad per say but weird

Gives artemis huge boobs and in one panel they are either smaller or gone

Artemis bestie if that one thing distracts you from your friend you gotta get ur priorities straight

“Hey kiddo wanna have some real fun” ew

Omg purple eros

So much hair

Did she just give her hair powers so she could draw diff styles lets be honest

Ep 5:

Aphrodites hip angle is so sharp it could kill me

“Friggin” makes my mind go to supernatural and i dont appreciate it

Omg shes a cinnamon roll shes so adorable and gorgeous and yet sexy and *i get shot*

Mother emotionally guilting her son omg its my life

The listen panel. Haunts my dreams

Why does she have so many different painting/coloring styles

LMAO LOOK AT HADES ON THE BALCONY its. Its bad

Ep 6

W hy do they stand like that persephone pls

Love demeters colors tho

This is. This is the metaphor for the maidenhood thing right

Thats how i always saw it

Wow persephone you just woke up and you look so pretty wowww woww

Rachel rachel please does her hair have bangs or not just choose

I do actually like the panel with cerberus, persephone, and hades its nice

Ep 7

Cerberus is so cute

Hades shut the fuck up

The coat is cute

Persephone get off the counter this isnt ur house

Whos minthe? Stop being nosy damn

Didnt really have much to say bout this one

Ep 8

Why are both their eyes open i know they arent in love but that so weird right

Is his dick out or is she just naked on him

“Salutiations” old man

Every second i read persephones eyes get bigger

“I would pay you a salary to barge in on every single aspect of my life” is actually cute however. You literally just met her she hasnt even introduced herself

I dont understand why he thought she meant sex idk

I like that his business card has diff names for him

SHE WAS HOLDING HERS IN HER TITTY WHY

Ep 9

Persephone giggling over that is kinda weird imo but whatever

Persephone please pic a face shape

“Come here puppy” look. Look at her face. Wtf

Train ur dogs hades smh

We never see like any of these dogs fuck you rachel i want dogs

“Let the unionize see if i care” haha so funny haha wow so. So funny. Hades ur such a character

Why is her mouth so high up in this one panel

Hehe puppy

Man in bushes

Ep 10

Why does he have so many cars he doesnt need em

The little :p panel is cute

NOT HER FACE AGAIN RACHEL PLEASE JUST LOOK ONCE MORE

Stop yelling hades

Persephones hair is looking bad rn ngl

I love the colors of the underworld tbh

Rachel please go in depth on how you travel there between realms i am so curious

Artemis randomly gains bangs

I know her hair was flowing but her bangs are too short to completely disappear

Why do his eyes randomly turn red honestly

Goodbye thank god

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC  CH 1

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie

Also posted on AO3

My requests are open!

Chapter one | Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff

Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened. 

Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.

Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.

After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.

She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.

Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.

At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.

“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.

Yeah, this place was worth checking out.

The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy. 

As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time. 

She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner. 

“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by. 

“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.

Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted. 

“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled. 

“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder. 

Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away. 

Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.

She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier. 

“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace. 

Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”

She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy. 

“I call first dibs!”

“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.

They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much. 

Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late. 

Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.

She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.

 Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.

-o-

David was having a boring night. 

His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.

Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t. 

The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief. 

It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. 

“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.

“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.

The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”

David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.

“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.

“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath. 

Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.

David was not in the mood.

He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?

It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions. 

Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down. 

And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.

She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet,  falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding. 

He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.

Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David. 

Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”

The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”

Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”

The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”

David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”

She furrowed her brow. 

“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily. 

She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants. 

Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.

“Paul,” David growled a warning. 

Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.

David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair. 

“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr. 

Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”

She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”

Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body. 

He wanted more.

“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.

“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”

David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.

He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera. 

She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked. 

When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling. 

David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers. 

He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.

Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why. 

It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it. 

“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following. 

“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers. 

“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze. 

“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes. 

“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.

Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl. 

“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.

That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that. 

“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving. 

“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair. 

“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”

Another growl. 

They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it. 

“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”

With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean. 

“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”

David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”

He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”

She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.

David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”

“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”

“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it. 

“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”

“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.

“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh. 

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.

Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.

It made David just the tiniest bit jealous. 

“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her. 

“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked. 

“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.

“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”

Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge? 

David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises. 

“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk. 

“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.

“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass. 

Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. 

“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch. 

David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”

“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.

“You better share her,” Marko whined.

David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them. 

She was into all of them.

He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that. 

Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.

As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around. 

She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from? 

She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden. 

They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight. 

Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.

Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.

Odd.

The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her. 

“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike. 

“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.

“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips. 

David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”

“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle. 

David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.” 

He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be. 

“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike. 

“David’s sire,” Marko answered. 

“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned. 

“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed. 

“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”

He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. 

Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him. 

Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt. 

If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...

“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”

“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”

Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”

Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own. 

[sixstepsaway]

Having a weird time of it lately because I realized the only recent show (as in, things I watch as it airs) in the last like...ten years that hasn't ended up horribly disappointing me is Killjoys

and, like, a lot of shows would do well to take a leaf out of Killjoys' book? It's pretty clear to me that she was given two seasons to wrap things up at the end of season 3, and she didn't have quite enough time (only 20 more episodes) to tie up every loose plot thread, so she opted to let those go in favor of letting the characters be wrapped up and finished

and on top of that, at the end of the show, she pulls a total uno reverse of the usual "and at the end, this beloved character DIES! 😈" by straight up bringing back a character we were all positive died because she could. because it made us happy. because it worked.

but I was never super into GoT but I really loved Jon and Dany, and the way those two went was just... ridiculous. I tuned in for the last few episodes because of her (and him) and to watch them destroy her character and his was just... awful. You can say whatever you want about Dany (somewhere else, not on my post pls) and how she was "always meant to go evil because it's in her family lineage" (which... gross, actually) but it also turned Jon into something unrecognizable: a man who would distract the woman he loved with a kiss, just to plunge a knife into her chest and kill her. He didn't even give her a fair shot!

and then hotd decided that because people decided Daemon was the internet's boyfriend they'd talk loudly about how actually they were all stupid because he's an irredeemable villain, as though they didn't... write him as morally grey and (inadvertently, I think, if I'm honest) humanize him further by having him do things like not kill Laenor when his book version almost certainly did

let's be honest here: daemon being the internet's boyfriend is a power fantasy. abusive men are angels to everyone around them and awful to their partner and children who are trapped with them. daemon is awful to everyone around him and an angel to his wife and children and that's what makes it a power fantasy.

the power fantasy is being the one(s) he doesn't hurt, even if he's terrible to everyone else.

this weird push for everything in fiction having to say something about reality and what you really desire is fucked up, to say the least, but the idea that because a bunch of people online think daemon - who has been shown to be adoring of his wife and kids even ignoring the deleted scenes, and protective as fuck of them - is a great fantasy boyfriend that they're Stupid Women Who Want Abusive Men so they should be ridiculed when haha look daemon choked his wife, you see how stupid you were now? is painfully short-sighted and just downright cruel

how many people get the "see how stupid you were? we TOLD YOU he was abusive all along" treatment? how many of them actually deserve it? why perpetuate it into fandom? it's bullshit. and it's cruel to just go "gotcha" at people as though the characterization hadn't been written for nine episodes as daemon being unable to hurt rhaenyra and defensive of anyone and anything that did.

(also it's worth noting that assault is not the same as abuse. abuse is a pattern, it is not a single action or event, and it requires a power dynamic and an element of manipulation. you are welcome to feel that the choking was abusive, but to me it reads as a singular assault (also bad! very bad!) not a pattern of abuse involving power. if daemon abuses rhaenyra, she has the power to have him cast out, exiled or even killed - she is queen! he has very little power in that situation. to me, that is different. still terrible! but different.)

anyway, after all of that came the witcher's baffling announcement about recasting geralt and i just...? okay. it's pretty clear to me that hc had enough of the writing going so far off the books, and i get that. I haven't read the books (yet), and I enjoyed s1 and s2, but having read about the books and learned that yen's s2 plot was actually triss' in the books (or close enough) and other things they saw fit to change for no good reason, I can fully understand why hc would peace out if it gets even worse in s3 because frankly? same

and, like, i came out of killjoys feeling like i could never write anything that good ever, like i'm not exactly a bad writer but like i would never be that good

and it's weird that i keep coming out of these shows with the resonating feeling that i could do better

i am not an egotistical person, i like to think i'm pretty down to earth about these things, but i will never understand how these shows end up with writers who hate the source material and writers who instead of handing the show to someone with love for it crap all over it and then leave, or writers who just don't care and actively hate their viewer base

(i suppose we return to our regularly scheduled rerun of a tweet i can't find rn which says how there's a certain genre of tv writers who think they're writing for men, then find out their show's fanbase is largely made up of women and/or queer people and instead of embracing it, punish.)

it's just fucking weird and it's left me with a really sour taste in my mouth because idk if it's my autism, my adhd or both, but i get so invested in shows and i feel physically injured when the writers decide to shrug emoji and throw everything to the wind for bullshit reasons

if it was just me feeling like this i'd think maybe i was dumb, but it's very clear from everything i've seen and read that hc also feels this way about where the witcher went. grrm said the books will end "very differently to GoT" which...yeah. obviously. he's actually a good writer lmao.

(sometimes i wonder if this is also what happened with torchwood, if rtd realized he'd appealed to the 'wrong' audience and punished with ianto's death, but i'm not so sure about that one)

anyway i'm stuck now with such intense trust issues that i am actively dreading ofmd coming back because i cannot stand the idea of what they might do to it

especially considering it's on hbo

[toastedside]

Mothers

Damian had dinner with Talia and they talked about Batmom.

===========================================

Damian didn’t know what he should feel about this.

It’s been a very long time since he had a peaceful meal together with Talia. Or it felt like one, he didn’t know. Certainly, he had spent significant amount of days and night not having a peaceful meal together with his mother that he started to lose any strands of memories on how it should really be. Or does he never have any peaceful meal with her before? He wasn’t sure.

Should he really let his guard down? He wasn’t sure. It sure is felt wrong to let his guard down in the presence of his mother. After all, he knew her. She always had so many tricks underneath her sleeve. But it had been almost twenty-five minutes passed, and the dinner had been nothing but… pleasant.

“Hmm,” Talia made a sound. “They sure do make a great samosa. I admit your judgement is right. This is the best restaurant they have in the city.”

Damian pressed his lips together. “I am pleased to know you enjoy it as much as I do, Mother.”

Talia threw him a small smile. Or what he could considered as a smile from her, anyway. Damian did not have the smoothest relationship with his mother after all the odds happened. He certainly had seen her in different light after she had attempted to murder him with one of her clones of his own freaking self. But Damian certainly held a dear memory of days when his mother is warm to him.

She had not been perfect, but she tried, and she loved him dearly and fiercely too. In her very own twisted way, as she had tried her best to shield him from any bad influence that his grandfather is. But a powerful man of menace that he is, sometimes all of his mother’s best had not been enough to protect him from his grandfather. So, she had to send him away all across the country, gave the custody to his father, and had lived underneath the same roof with him ever since.

It certainly was a surprise that Talia showed up on the doorstep. Being civil and all, knocking the door and actually announce her presence. Not showing up out of nowhere sneaking her way into the Batcave or strike him in the daylight out of thin air. She wanted to rekindle and reconnect with him, that’s what she said, and Damian was hesitant. But Mom was enthusiastic with the idea – she had always been a very positive lady, bless her soul – and Father, surprisingly, did not opposed the idea.

Grayson did not. He was ready to throw a fit. But eventually begrudgingly agreed after a stern and long talk with Mom.

Besides, Mom and Father were supposed to attend a charity event in Star City this weekend. It’s a perfect occasion for him to have a day out with his mother while his other parents are away. God, it felt weird to address them that way. Grayson gave him a pep talk and a panic button that he certainly did not need in case things go south.

So far, things had been quite pleasant, if not good. They had stroll around the city, visited a zoo, went to a museum, and ready to end their day in this restaurant he had accidentally discovered few months ago. He didn’t even check his phone – well, once to text Grayson back and assured him that he was, in fact, very much alright – and surprisingly enjoy his time.

“If you have anything to say, then talk,” Talia’s voice snapped him out of his train of thought.

“Nothing. It had been a very good day with you, Mother,” Damian answered. He had almost forgot how straightforward his mother could be.

Talia pressed her lips together to form a thin smile. “Y/N…” she paused for a moment as if she was testing the way it rolled out of her tongue. “She had made you soft, hadn’t she? Or was it the work of your father?” Talia tilted her head to the side, studying him.

Damian didn’t say anything, but his hand tried to reach for his non-existent weapon on his pocket out of instinct. He and his mother agreed not to bring any sort of weapon on their day out together today.

“Y/N, what a bright woman she is. Too bright.” Talia’s finger traced the outline of the table. Damian braced himself for any words that would come next. “I understand why you take a liking on her.”

“You do?” the word came out before Damian could stop it. Talia’s head perked up at his question, the corner of her lips turned upwards.

“Yes. I admit she is a very likable woman. Even Jason Todd seemingly adore her, and we both know the man usually reluctant to put his guard down so easily.”

“In case it escapes your attention, Todd grew up with her.”

“And with your father too.” Talia raised a questioning eyebrow. One that she usually gave him when she questioned all of his method in training. Or progress. “Look at their relationship now. A little rough around the edges, if you ask me.”

“That’s just how they work.”

“That’s just how they work, indeed,” Talia agreed. “That’s just how it works with Y/N too.”

Damian nodded, understanding his mother’s point of view. But he couldn’t see where this conversation led them exactly, and why the matter of Mom had been brought into the table in the first place.

“You know, I only had met her once or twice. Not so much. But it certainly felt like I had known her for years. Your father used to talk fondly about her a lot back in the days when he was still in the League. Besides talking about his parents and Alfred Pennyworth, he had the habit to talk about Y/N too. Or should I call her Y/N Wayne, now that she is married to your father?”

Damian remained still. Talia waited for a few beats for him to answer, but the lack of response from his part was an enough answer. Talia shrugged it off. He knew she did. It wasn’t a first time.

“Any person would’ve known that it was love. He swore it was just a childish crush, he would say that a lot in his defence. But I know. I had always known. You should see the way his eyes shine when he talked about her,” Talia told him. Damian knew what his mother had talked about so well. He had witnessed it so many times. “Because he used to look at me with the same shine in his eyes, Damian.”

Damian’s breath caught in his throat. He remembered the early days of him arriving at his father’s doorstep, upset at the presence of another woman that he fondly calls Mom now. He recalled days of wishing his parents would just talk and reunite, before eventually made a peace with the fact that his father is very much happy with his marriage.

He couldn’t find any words to say, and Talia did not expect him to. An invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders magically. A small amount it seems, the one he barely noticed. But it was a comical amount of relief to knew that he was brought here by love his parents used to had with each other. For a short amount of time, perhaps, but it was still one.

“I am actually glad that you get to grow up with her.”

“Are you really?” Damian was a little skeptical, albeit hopeful and a little surprised.

“I am, Beloved,” Talia reassured him. Damian closed his eyes; it had been a long time since he had heard his mother addressed him that way. “There are many reasons why I had to leave you with your father, but I mainly wish you to have a better path and future than I do. Y/N had not been on the plan, but now I am glad that she is. She is capable to give you breaks and normalcy that your father used to had when he was your age. The one that I unable to give. I understand why your father had chosen to marry her; she is capable to give him the breaks he needs from his battles. I couldn’t give him that. I certainly couldn’t give that to you.”

Damian blinked. He didn’t know what to say.

“She had raised you and nurture you as if you are her own. Besides, she is bright and very well-educated. Maybe not the best fighter, if she ever learned at all.” Talia paused to formed a smile. “I like her.”

Damian let out a shaky breath he did not notice he was holding. He experienced a rush of many emotions at once, many that he couldn’t register and understand. He felt a hot prickle in his eyes, and if his mother notice there were tears welled in his eyes, she didn’t point it out.

There are few moments of silence exchanged between them. Talia was the first one to broke it off. “Let’s finish this off and I’ll drop you off at your father’s house. It’s already dark outside, and I’m certain Dick Grayson would explode if you don’t come back any time soon.”

Damian grimaced. “He tends to worry about me a lot. Sometimes I am convinced that he forgets I can protect and defend myself very well.”

“It is a good thing to have someone care about your well-being. Count it as a blessing,” Talia said with furrowed eyebrows. “Y/N told me you joined a soccer club in your school. Tell me about it on our way to your father’s house.”

Damian didn’t have any expectation on how his day would go, but certainly he did not expect to talk about his soccer club experience to his mother as they take a route back to the manor. He talked about his practice and an upcoming tournament that sadly his mother couldn’t attend.

It soon become a tradition between two of them. Talia would take Damian out somewhere whenever she could, which wasn’t that often considering her condition and line of work. Sometimes it would take days, sometimes it was a mere quick day out that last few hours. His mom and his mother would sometimes engage in a nice small talk whenever Talia visited. All of his siblings conspired that they had secrets shared with each other and had a secret girl’s night out no one knows about.

Damian didn’t want to dwell on that. He was happy and content with the life he led on now. Even though this wasn’t the initial output he had wished, he was still very much happy to receive love from two amazing women he had privilege to call Mom and Mother, respectively.

[peachscribe]

peach’s summer book list

i had a lot of fun compiling the list of books i read during the 20-21 winter, so i decided i would do a summer one as well! i still have a lot of books i own but haven’t read, so im definitely not lacking in material

if you didn’t see my winter list, how my book list works is basically like this: i read a book that i own but have not previously read, write a short summary immediately after finishing the book, write down my thoughts on the book, and then provide a rating for the book. i also might include background info on why i read this particular book/feelings about the author, but that depends on the book. that’s how each entry works

without further ado, let’s get started!

1. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

okay so i absolutely adore another book by andrew smith (written after grasshopper jungle) called the alex crow. it’s one of my favorite books of all time, so naturally i wanted to see if grasshopper jungle would make me feel similarly. just like the alex crow, grasshopper jungle’s plot is. so fucking weird. it stars austin szerba, a teenage polish kid who lives in ealing, iowa, and is often sexually confused regarding his girlfriend shann and his best friend robby. and in ealing, iowa, austin and robby accidentally and unknowingly unleash an unstoppable army of huge six-foot-tall praying mantis bugs that only want to do two things: fuck and eat. and i just have to say: andrew smith’s got an absolutely dynamo writing style. alex crow is similar, where it’s a book about kind of everything all at once, framed in a moment centering around teenage boys. it’s fantastic, and it’s more than a little gross, and i love it. this book made me feel so many things, and i thought austin was such an amazing narrator and main character to identify with. this book has it all: shitty teenage boy humor, fucked up science experiments, and poetic imagery that will make you want to cry. and explicit lgbt characters.

412/10 andrew smith what do you put in your water i just want to know

2. Burn by Patrick Ness

patrick ness has written a plethora of some of my favorite books (such as a monster calls, the chaos walking trilogy, and the rest of us just live here) so when i saw this one in the store i knew it would be a great one. burn is an alternate history fantasy that takes place in 1957 frome, washington, during the height of the cold war, and it begins with a girl named sarah and her father hiring a dragon to help out on their farm. but there’s not just dragons, farm living, and cold war tensions; there’s also a really shitty small town cop, a cult of dragon worshippers and their deadly teenage assassin, a pair of fbi agents, and a prophecy that sarah’s newly hired dragon claims she’s a part of. i think eoin colfer’s highfire was on my winter list, which also featured a story that included dragons and shitty cops, so when i first began burn i thought it was funny to have two books that had both things. you know, if you had a nickel etc etc. but that’s really where the similarities end because burn is entirely it’s own monster (dragon). burn is entirely invested in its world, and its fascinating. not only that, i had no clue where the book would take me next. there were so many surprises and amazing twists that honestly just blew me away. this book also includes beautifully written complicated discussions on family, race, and love - it features interracial and queer romances as the two most prominent romance plots which was such a nice surprise from a book i wasn’t expecting to have that kind of representation. this book is witty, fast-paced, and a very heartening read - i absolutely adored it.

9/10 dragons and becoming motivated by the power of love and friendship are so fucking cool

3. As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann

i hate this book! as meat loves salt is a historical fiction novel which takes place in seventeenth century england, which is going through a grisly civil war. the protagonist, jacob cullen, is a servant for a wealthy household and is engaged to another servant in the house. but due to certain events that are almost entirely jacob’s fault, he flees the house and is separated from his wife. from there, he joins the royal army and meets a kind soldier, ferris, and the two become fast friends. jacob and ferris’s relationship begins to bridge past friendly, and jacob struggles with his homoerotic feelings as well as the growing obsession and violence inside him. also, they try to start a colony. listen, i don’t know how to describe the book because so much happens, but it basically just follows jacob and all the terrible decisions he makes because he is, truly, a terrible person. ferris is kind and good, and jacob is scum of the earth. he sucks so bad. the entire time i was reading this book (which took absolutely so long), all i wanted was for jacob to just get his ass handed to him. i wanted to see him suffer. and it’s not like i just personally don’t like him - i believe the book purposefully depicts him as unsympathetic even though he is the narrator. i did enjoy the very in depth and accurate portrayal of what life would’ve been like in seventeenth century england, and i think it was interesting to read a character that is just the absolute worst person you’ve ever encountered and see him try and justify his actions, so if you enjoy that kind of thorough writing, then this book would be perfect for you. however, i did not see that bitch ass motherfucker jacob cullen suffer enough. i’d kill him with my bare hands.

2/10 diversity win! the worst man on earth is mlm!

4. This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab

i know ive had a friend tell me how great one of schwab’s other book series is, but truthfully i bought this book because the cover is sick as hell and it was on a table in the store that advertised for buy two get one free, i think. something like that. anyway, this savage song takes place in a future in which monsters, for whatever reason, suddenly became real and out for blood in a mysterious event nicknamed the phenomenon. august flynn is one of these monsters, but he takes no pride in that fact and only wants to feel human. kate harker is the daughter of a ruthless man and is trying her hardest to be ruthless, too, but deep down she knows it’s just an act. their city, verity, stands divided, and kate and august stand on either side - but when august is sent on a mission to befriend kate in the hopes of stopping an all out war, the lines begin to blur. this book rules. august and kate are such interesting and dynamic characters, and the narrative is familiar while still being capable of twisting the story around and taking the feet out from under you in really compelling ways. this savage song is part of the monsters of verity duology, and i can’t wait to dive into how the story continues and finishes.

11/10 sometimes you can judge a book by it’s cover

4a. Our Dark Duet by Victorian Schwab

this is the sequel and finale for this savage song and i’d figure i’d update everyone: fantastic ending, beautiful, showstopping, painful.

12/10 loved it and will definitely be keeping an eye out for schwab’s other books

5. White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi

oh boy. okay. white is for witching is about a house, and it is about the women who have lived inside of it. when her mother dies abroad, miranda silver begins to act strangely, and there’s nothing her father or her twin brother seem to be able to do about it. she develops an eating disorder and begins to hear voices in the silver family house, converted to a bed and breakfast by miranda’s dad; and she begins to lose herself in the house and the persistent presence of her family legacy. white is for witching switches perspective dizzingly and disorientingly between miranda, her twin eliot, miranda’s friend from school named ore, and the house itself. this story is a horror story as much as it as a tragedy as much as it is a romance as much as it is a bunch of other things. oyeyemi brings race, sexuality, nationality, and family into this story and forces you not to look away. this book is poetry.

(like i mentioned briefly, this book heavily deals with topics of race and closely follows miranda’s eating disorder. read responsibly, and take care of yourselves)

15/10 this book consumed me and i think i’ll have to read it another 10 more times to feel it properly

6. These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong

okay. okay. strap in for a ride. these violent delights is a romeo and juliet style story, taking place in glittering 1920’s shanghai. the city stands divided - not only between the foreign powers encroaching on chinese land, but also between the scarlet gang and the white flowers, who are at the height of a generations-long blood feud. juliette cai, heir to the scarlets, has recently returned from four years abroad and is determined to prove herself ruthless enough to lead. roma montagov, heir to the white flowers, is standing strenuously on his place as next in line due to a slip up four years prior and is desperate to keep hold of his title. and in the midst of juliette and roma’s burning history with each other threatening to combust, an unnatural monster lurks in the waters of shanghai, loosing a madness on scarlets and white flowers alike. this book has it all - scorned ex lovers, political intrigue, deadly monsters, and all set on a glamorous backdrop of the roaring twenties. i absolutely was enraptured by this book and the way it plays around the story of romeo and juliet so well that it easily became it’s own monster, but with the punches and embraces of something classically shakespearan. gong does just an absolutely breathtaking job of fitting this fantastical story amid the larger world of shanghai and the real life historical events that had shaken the city to its core. completely immersive and outstandingly heart racing.

17/10 i was chewing on my fingernails for the last thirty pages and will continue to do so until the sequel is released (our violent ends, 16 nov 21)

7. The Antiques by Kris D’Agostino

you ever heard of the american dysfunctional family story? this is most definitely that. at the same time george westfall’s cancer takes a turn for the worse, a hurricane hits the east coast, and suddenly all at once the issues of his health, the hurricane, and all three of his children’s achingly dysfunctional adult lives are crashing into each other. reunited by george’s death, the westfall siblings have to face their grief, each other, and the problems in their own lives they attempted to put on hold while planning their father’s memorial. this is a nice story about grief and loss and love and somehow finding the humor amidst it all.

(this book does include a depiction of an autistic child who does experience several pretty bad meltdowns due to ignorant people around him not understanding how to cater to his needs. im not an authority on what depictions are or are not harmful, but i do believe this depiction is ultimately loving and well-intended.)

7/10 it made me laugh and cry and was generally one of those books that somehow hit you close to home

8. Fierce Fairytales by Nikita Gill

fierce fairytales is a poetry anthology that reimagines classic fairytales from a modern, feminist viewpoint, acknowledging that the line between hero and villain, monster and damsel, are not as clear cut as the classics try to make you believe. this book also includes illustrations done by the author herself, which i think is really cool. my personal favorite story reimagining was the story of peter pan and captain hook, called ‘boy lost’ which looked at how peter and hook’s relationship began and rotted. all in all, i think this collection of stories had a lot of important things to say and said them in frank, easy to understand poetry and prose.

7/10 beautiful message and pretty prose, but at times a little cliche

and that’s all from the summer! my fall semester starts tomorrow, and overall i feel very good about all the reading i did this summer. i even read four other books not on this list for work! so i definitely feel like i made the most out of my time, and im really glad i was able to read so many stories that made me feel a variety of different things

thanks so much for reading this list, and let me know if you read or have read any of these books and tell me what you think of them!

happy reading<3

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

ok i agree w/ everything you said about those ladies besides, lwaxana gives s*xual pr*dator vibes and that is why i dont like her.

I can see that reading for sure and all things are subjective. I do strongly disagree, but hey, fandom is a space for that! Super chill.

to go a little more into this though, since it's not really so much about what any of us feel, but more about how we engage with female characters (and I'll use your example of why you don't like her - not to drag you, your dislike is totally fair, she's fictional, she won't mind, but just because it's a single line that kinda puts her in a box. And not a very nice box to be in, that's for sure...)

a little tw for mild references to some of the shadier writings of star trek vis a vis sexual assault and otherwise sexist and/or strange relationship dynamics

okay so you know how Riker has like. two? episodes that're suuuper shady in terms of his treatment of women and the rest of the time it's pretty chill. and he's one of my favourite characters, but I have gotta skip those episodes, because whatever they were trying to do, they Did Not Succeed - and there's a reading of him that incorporates those elements and if you do you've gotta contend with the character being quite probably someone who's assaulted women.

or how Worf at times espouses sexist shit that makes me roll my eyes outta my head and you're either gonna say "I don't fucking like this character" (and again, totally fair, I've seen people who don't Vibe) or you've gotta find a way to make this work for you if you want to explore that character - or both of those things, you can dislike a character and want to write about them

Or some of the weird shit the writers have Geordi do (which, Geordi is my favourite character in TNG, but sometimes ya gotta breathe and go "the writers are fucking dumb, the writers are fucking dumb")

or - the spiritual successor of Geordi, Julian Bashir (my favourite character from DS9 - clearly I have a Type). You've gotta go: This is stupid writing. I can make it work with my own read of the character, but first and foremost The Writing Is Dumb!

Or hell, Q - since we're talking about Lwaxana and I assume her interactions with Picard and Odo, let's not forget to mention Q, both in TNG and on VOY with Janeway - some of the more urgh-inducing scenes between Q and Janeway are, I think, meant to be charming and funny? And I'm a massive QCard shipper here, okay, I actually vibe so hard with him as an alien who doesn't get shit about boundaries (this mostly with Picard, with Janeway I have gone: "Hm. This doesn't feel good" a fair few times).

or how the writers of DS9 had Garak be in a very uncomfortable relationship with Ziyal, who was a teenager, then not a teenager within much too short a span of episodes (and actress changes)

or Quark. Remember the episode in which Quark tries to get Kira's likeness so he can put it in a sex-fantasy roleplay that she did not consent to? or how there are two cold opens where his female employees are told they have to sleep with him to keep their jobs

or like... Neelix (okay, I am not a fan of Neelix anyway, but for people who are fans, there are times when you've gotta wonder what in the heck the writers are thinking - not the character, the writers)

what I'm trying to say with the post I wrote is that this same graciousness isn't offered to female characters - especially female characters of colour, but in the case of Lwaxana

she's older, she's an ongoing female guest star, she's very (sometimes uncomfortably) sexual towards especially Picard and for a short while Odo, before they become really good friends.

she's also in-text several times in positions in which men are trying to control her (the episode where she gets kidnapped, the episode in which the guy who's married her is a misogynist) and she uses or tries to use her "wiles" to escape these situations.

She's really more of a faded beauty who's putting a pressure onto her daughter (in a rare interesting, complex, fraught mother-daughter dynamic that I loooove) and refuses to let go of the past, because (and here we get into my read, but mildly supported by canon) it's the only way she seems to have learned how to be loved and have relevance. She's terrified of letting that go, because where does she go next, without everything that's defined her? which is why her final episode with Odo is actually so powerful to me.

Picard is never threatened by her in-text. He's not massively fond of her (at first, she grows on him... like a mold), he would prefer to avoid her, but he's not in a powerless situation here. She undoubtedly makes him uncomfortable at times in a way that - like some of the above examples have made me go "mmmmokay" but certainly not the worst example of this in the writing.

With Odo I also don't like how some of her interactions with him go in the first episode they're in together. But once they're friends and you see how easily she accepts him ("I can swim" is always going to be one of my favourite little chuckle lines) that no longer applies. He clearly likes her and enjoys her company. There's something incredibly lifelong platonic partners in their easiness with each other.

You can argue in both cases (and argue well) that there are scenes that are kinda sus. But there are lots of scenes that offer you depth of character. She's not one-note. She's got off moments.

Some of these guys (and others - I haven't watched as much TOS and Voyager so I don't want to misrepresent anyone, but I feel sure that Tom Paris has made me squint once or twice + I've not seen Enterprise yet) have whole episodes that make me shudder.

It's really - within this fandom for sure - open how we interpret characters and I'm not saying anyone needs to read Lwaxana like this or change their minds and like her.

The point of the post is not to say you have to like any of these characters. Or even to say you have to engage with them regardless of how you vibe or don't vibe with them. It's just... I have listened to several up-until-then-enjoyable deeply analytical podcasts where at some point one of the (guys... always guys... I'm guessing white) makes a sneering comment completely dismissing their value within the series.

My point is that Lwaxana (since we're on her) has value as a character within the Trek universe. She added something important. She's not everyone's cup of tea, but it's a big series, we're not all guaranteed to like everyone.

and in the original post I used "shrill" and "cringy" on purpose, because those are descriptors I've heard. And they are absolutely rooted in misogynist dismissals of female characters no matter what shape they take (Keiko, Lwaxana, Michael, and Ezri are radically different from each other and yet all easily brushed aside regardless of screentime, personality, show, age, role/job).

I'm not making points about having to engage with or like characters. I'm just saying we need to be aware of how easily we specifically look down our noses at female characters (and specifically female characters of colour - apologies, this was just because we were talking about Lwaxana, but some of the shit I've heard about especially Michael and Keiko have made me want to bang my head against a wall... or other peoples heads against walls... you know, for a nice change)

so how much sympathy or analysis of behaviour is afforded to female characters vs their male peers. What judgements are we making and how do they compare to our readings of their male counterparts?

sidenote: I hate using male and female about star trek, my brain is just like "why anyone gender? why do this? you're in space? there are aliens? y'all can't chill with the binary for two fucking seconds?"

different post