#actually it’s better than I could have imagined

[apatheticsunday]

Batfam Eldritch Horror

AKA "inspired by that one post about Danny being a flerken and living with the Batfam" idea! Except he looks pants-shitting, "oh dear god, what is that" terrifying.

I just love slightly feral animal-like Danny in a... shape. It's not immediately identifiable as a cat or dog, maybe he has a few too many legs that kind of look like a tail at one point? And when he skitters up walls like a particularly small dog-sized tarantula, it's terrifying enough to make seasoned criminals squeal.

Let's imagine Danny had some sort of accident with a portal and was Wizard-of-Oz'd into Gotham, a literal hellmouth of a city with so many curses that it'd make John Constantine start to sweat. And this city also has... weird Ecto. (In my brain, there's a connection between the Lazarus Pit and ectoplasm, like pit waters are the sewers of ectoplasm or something.) It's enough for Danny to still exist but he can't seem to stay human-shaped. It's better than being a Blob Ghost, but not by much. His fur-scales-feathers-skin-something look dark as the midnight sky.

And who should stumble on this weird-looking Thing aside from Damian, secret animal-whisperer and passionate Pokemon collector? Damian, who known what a scared feral animal looks like and who can coax it into his arms? It doesn't matter that Danny has maybe five or six limbs. He can make himself slightly smaller at will (not in a Magical-Girl-Transformation way, mind you. When he changes shape, there's the distinct snap of bones breaking and wet, fleshy sounds of his organs, muscles, ligaments, tendons, everything shifting).

Damian has literally been trained by the League of Assassins under the Demon Head. He's likely seen more people's insides than an ER surgeon; he's killed more than enough people in incredibly grotesque and violent ways to be totally unphased by Danny changing shapes. Maybe he'll actually be sort of touched, a bit pleased, that his new Thing pet would change itself so violently so Damian could hold it.

What would Damian name it? He's outwardly violent and aggressive towards others, but pretty passionate and heartfelt once he cares for someone. Alfred the Cat comes to mind. So maybe Damian takes one look at this supposedly scary Thing and thinks, "It looks like Father."

As in, Dark as Night? A shadow inspiring fear amongst criminals? Spoken about in whispers, sometimes laughed off as a joke but still cautiously reverent, just in case?

Danny's new name is Batman.

Of course, this causes some confusion when Damian comes home to Wayne Manor and says, "Batman and I will retire to my room." In front of Bruce, who naturally and kind-of-correctly assumes his son picked up another animal while on patrol. Bruce had a hard time explaining this to a very concerned Dick, who was holding up a wooden stake and a bible (Dick totally wasn't going to kill Bruce if he turned out to be a vampire but it's always good to be prepared!), after Damian apparently made a wayward comment that "Batman refuses to eat anything besides raw meat."

And Danny is having a great time!! Sure, Damian treats him like a pet, but he gets affectionate pats on the head, incredibly expensive steak, and a soft place to sleep. He awkwardly dragged several blankets from the living room to Damian's room to make a bed in the kid's closet. (Alfred watched from behind the couch as this six-legged hairy-ish catlike Thing determinedly waddled with three blankets in its mouth, occasionally tripping on its own legs. He went back to dusting the crown moulding silently. So, that's why Master Damian requested uncooked sirloin steak twelve times in last few days. Hm.)

So, the Batfam accept there is another Batman in the family. Except they haven't actually seen Danny (aside from Alfred and Damian).

Until Dick needs to talk to Damian and goes into the boy's room. But it's empty?? He could've sworn he heard somebody talking or something in here, but maybe not? He turns to leave and then hears it again: a soft kind of thump coming from Damian's armoire. A shit-eating grin spreads across his face as his Older Brother Instincts kick in. Jason used to hide in closets and try to scare Dick when he was little; Damian, despite being a child soldier and trained assassin, was still a little kid at heart, right? The kid's clearly hiding from Dick to scare him or something.

(Damian was in the Batcave, studiously typing "Google, what non-Earth animals reside in Gotham, please?" into the Batcomputer. I like to think that Damian uses the internet like a 85-year old man who thinks a Google employee personally replies to each question.)

So, Dick creeps forward and abruptly slams open the armoire doors!! Only to let out an unholy shriek of terror as Danny, who was taking a nap, frantically skitters out of the closet looking like a Frankenstein cat-dog with bat wings. He crawls under Damian's bed as Dick scrambles into the hallway.

The cat-dog-Thing is out of the bag now. Damian looks utterly deadpan as he explains that Batman is his pet and not to concern themselves with it; Bruce, Tim, Jason, and a white-faced Dick disagreed. They need to see it to make sure the Thing won't harm anybody, especially considering it's fucking living with them!! How do they know it won't try to eat them in their sleep??

"Batman does not eat raw human meat, Todd. Why are you concerned now? It has resided with us for two months now."

"Two months?" Dick nearly faints (again).

"Yes, Batman is very well-behaved, Master Dick." Alfred, who's been feeding Danny for the last two months and has seen all the little quirks the Thing has, offers a consoling half-smile.

Ultimately, the Batfam decide to keep Batman in exchange for scary dog privileges. They'll have to think of another name for Danny considering having two Batmans in Gotham would be pretty confusing (especially if one of them decided they did, in fact, like raw human flesh).

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

mydei x reader (x phainon) where they were on a quest and they had to rest and they stayed at a hotel to rest except it was one room available with one bed, or u can make it two beds where mydei and phainon fight for whoever gets to sleep with reader heh (id perfer one bed…..) imagine them all 3 in one bed

i need more mydei x reader fanfics dont leave me hanging…….

The way I giggled and kicked my feet at this, one bed with mydei and Phainon YES, JUST YES😌

(BTW, mydei is wearing a shirt in the bed scene)

Mydei x (fem) reader x Phainon

Only one Bed

The rain had started coming down hard by the time Mydei, Phainon, and Y/N finally reached the small inn nestled between the hills. Their mission had taken longer than expected, and all three of them were exhausted. The golden glow of lanterns inside the building was a welcome sight as they stepped inside, shaking off their damp cloaks.

“I’ll go book us a room,” Phainon announced, stretching his arms. “You two just sit tight.”

Mydei scoffed. “Like I need your permission.”

Phainon shot him a grin before sauntering over to the innkeeper. Meanwhile, Mydei shifted his attention to Y/N, who was absently rubbing her shoulders as if trying to shake off the chill from the rain. Without a word, he reached over and took her bag from her hands, effortlessly slinging it over his own shoulder.

She blinked up at him. “Oh, you didn’t have to—”

“Just take it,” he muttered, looking away. “You always carry too much.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, but she didn’t argue.

Phainon returned a moment later with a slightly sheepish expression. “So… small problem.”

Mydei narrowed his eyes. “What now?”

Phainon rubbed the back of his head. “They only had one room left.”

Y/N tilted her head. “That’s not so bad.”

Phainon hesitated. “And… only one bed.”

There was a moment of silence as Mydei and Y/N processed that. Then Mydei let out a sharp exhale. “Absolutely not.”

Phainon crossed his arms. “You got a better idea, champ? Sleep outside?”

Y/N, ever the peacemaker, placed a hand on Mydei’s arm before he could actually consider that. “It’s a big bed, isn’t it? We can share.”

Mydei scowled, glancing away. “I’ll take the floor.”

“Fine,” Phainon said immediately, throwing an arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “Then I’ll keep her company in bed.”

Mydei turned back so fast Phainon barely had time to react. “Like hell you will.”

Phainon raised his hands in mock surrender. “Wow, relax! Just pointing out how ridiculous you’re being.”

Y/N sighed. “You two need to stop bickering. We can just share the bed. It’s not like any of us bite.”

“I might,” Phainon muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Mydei.

“Fine,” Mydei finally grumbled. “But you two better not kick in your sleep.”

They made their way upstairs to their room, which, true to Phainon’s word, only had one large bed dominating the center. A warm fireplace crackled in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls.

“Well, this’ll be cozy,” Phainon said, already unfastening his cloak. “Who wants the shower first?”

“You go last,” Mydei said immediately. “Or else you’ll use up all the hot water.”

Phainon placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me.”

Y/N chuckled. “I’ll go first, then.”

They both nodded, watching as she disappeared into the washroom with a towel. As soon as the door clicked shut, an awkward silence settled between Mydei and Phainon.

Phainon flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. “So. Just us now, huh?”

Mydei shot him a look before leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Don’t talk.”

Phainon smirked. “Aw, come on. You’re not still mad about the bed thing, are you?”

Mydei scowled. “I should throw you out the window.”

Before Phainon could retort, the washroom door opened, and Y/N stepped out, drying her hair with a towel. Her damp locks clung to her shoulders, and the fresh scent of soap filled the room.

Both men froze. Mydei felt his cheeks heat up slightly, but he quickly looked away. Even Phainon, who was normally unbothered, rubbed the back of his neck as he cleared his throat.

Y/N, oblivious to the effect she had, continued towel-drying her hair. Seeing this, Phainon started to reach out. “Here, I’ll help—”

“Go shower,” Mydei cut in abruptly.

Phainon sighed dramatically but relented, gathering his things and heading into the washroom. The moment the door shut, Mydei let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His gaze flickered back to Y/N, who was still focused on drying her hair. Without thinking, he stepped forward and gently took the towel from her hands.

She blinked up at him. “Mydei?”

“Sit,” he muttered. “You’re going to catch a cold if you don’t dry it properly.”

She hesitated for a moment before obeying, sitting at the edge of the bed while he carefully ran the towel through her hair. She hummed softly. “You’re really good at this.”

Mydei scoffed. “You say that like it’s hard.”

She giggled. “Still, it’s nice of you.”

His hands faltered slightly at her words, but he quickly resumed. “Just don’t tell Phainon. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Mydei’s usually rough hands surprisingly gentle as he worked through her damp locks. By the time Phainon stepped out of the shower, stretching and sighing in satisfaction, he paused mid-step at the sight of them.

“Well, well,” he said, smirking. “Look at this cozy scene.”

Mydei tossed the towel at his face. “Shut up.”

Phainon laughed. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Y/N smiled. “He’s been very helpful.”

Phainon waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, I bet.”

Mydei glared at him. “Do you want to sleep outside?”

Phainon held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Let’s just get some sleep.”

They all climbed into the large bed, with Y/N in the middle. Mydei made sure to keep a respectful distance, but Phainon, being his usual self, sprawled out comfortably. To Mydei’s dismay, Phainon had no problem cuddling up to Y/N, and she didn’t even seem to mind.

After a few moments of silence, Phainon muttered, “This is kinda nice, huh?”

Y/N hummed in agreement. “Yeah.”

Mydei grumbled. “Go to sleep.”

Phainon chuckled. “Night, lovebirds.”

Neither of them responded, but in the dim light of the room, Mydei’s ears burned slightly.

As the night settled in, the soft crackling of the fireplace was the only sound filling the room. Phainon, being the most relaxed of the three, had no trouble dozing off first. He had sprawled out, his head resting against Y/N’s shoulder as he nestled closer, completely at ease.

Y/N, warm and exhausted from the long day, soon followed. Her breathing evened out, her body shifting in sleep as she unconsciously adjusted. At some point, without realizing it, she turned towards Mydei, pressing against his side, her head lightly resting against his chest.

Mydei, who had been lying stiffly on his back, immediately tensed. His golden eyes flicked downward, catching the sight of her peaceful face just inches from his own. Her warmth seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt, and he could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing against him.

His heartbeat, normally steady and composed, faltered slightly.

For a brief moment, instinct told him to move away—to put some distance between them. But as he shifted slightly, her hand absentmindedly curled into his shirt, like she was seeking comfort even in her sleep.

He swallowed, exhaling quietly.

Phainon had draped an arm lazily over Y/N’s waist, holding onto her like a human pillow, his face buried in her shoulder. The sight irritated Mydei more than it should have. But Y/N’s warmth against him—her quiet presence—was grounding in a way he hadn’t expected.

His muscles, once tense, slowly relaxed.

“…Just this once,” he murmured under his breath, barely above a whisper.

Careful not to wake her, he let himself rest, his gaze lingering on the ceiling. Y/N remained nestled against him, her breathing soft and steady, and despite himself, Mydei stayed still, allowing her to stay close.

Sleep didn’t come as easily for him, but with her warmth beside him, he didn’t mind as much.

The soft golden light of morning streamed through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room. The fireplace had died down to a few embers, leaving only the quiet rise and fall of breathing from the bed.

Phainon was the first to wake, stretching his arms with a lazy yawn. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light—until his vision settled on the sight before him.

Y/N was nestled comfortably in Mydei’s arms.

Phainon’s eyes widened slightly. At some point during the night, Mydei had taken her from his grasp and pulled her against him. Her head rested against his chest, one hand lightly curled into his shirt, and Mydei's arm was wrapped snugly around her, holding her close.

But the real kicker? Mydei was awake.

And he was smirking.

Triumphantly.

Phainon gawked. “You absolute—” He huffed. “I had her first.”

Mydei raised an eyebrow, his expression smug as he tightened his hold just a little, just enough to make his point. “Looks like she disagrees.”

Phainon groaned dramatically. “That’s not fair. I want cuddles too.”

Without hesitation, Mydei grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at his face.

THWACK.

Phainon let out a muffled yelp as he peeled the pillow away, pouting. “Rude.”

“Too bad,” Mydei said smoothly, settling back into the pillows.

Phainon huffed and crossed his arms. “This is favoritism.”

Mydei simply shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Phainon squinted at him before flopping back onto the bed dramatically. “Fine, but next time, I’m stealing her first.”

Mydei chuckled lowly. “We’ll see about that.”

Y/N, still blissfully unaware, snuggled closer into Mydei’s warmth, sighing softly in her sleep. Mydei shot Phainon one last smirk before resting his chin atop her head.

Phainon groaned into his pillow. “I hate you.”

Mydei closed his eyes, perfectly content. “No, you don’t.”

[blitzbomb]

*Garland’s hot body almost makes it hard to concentrate for a moment; the tightness, the all-consuming heat. But Kai knows better than to lose his head right now, lose his focus. His fingers wrap around Garland’s cock and he finds it still half-limp. Hn. Garland can’t be blamed, he supposes… After all, Kai isn’t small, and it’s probably been some time since Garland’s had a man.* “I wonder are you sick enough to cum from this.” *He pushes back inside - feeling Garland’s walls give easier than they had before. He strokes him, slow - teasing.*

*Mariam eyeballs the chair for a moment before she sits down and has her lunch presented to her like some treat for good behavior. Ironically that’s probably exactly what this is, and she’s too damn starving to be able to refuse it.* “So it’s not people.. Ha, kinda figured that would be the sick humor you monsters would get off on.” *If it is people stew, it still smells good.*

-----

Garland chews at his bottom lip, eyes screwing shut as Kai begins to stroke him. He'd half hoped Kai would have been rough. Fast. Had this over and done with so he can go cry in the shower. Seems not. The monster actually intends to make this a mind fuck for poor Garland. And worse still, Garland's not foolish enough to think he'll ressit all this. Kai's acting every bit like a loving boyfriend. Helping hand, slow pace. Garland groans low, head hanging slightly. He hates the man so much.

Boris laughs. "No. No people. I imagine it could make you humans sick if we keep feeding you each other." Boris isn't too sure but keeping the blood pure is the goal. No one wants to drink rancid blood. "Eat as much as you can. Don't force yourself to finish." Boris doesn't intend on starving Mariam no matter how annoying she'll get. Got to plump her up a little more. He wants her body, and her blood. Starving will not give him both.

She'd tried so hard. Mariam had done everything in her power to keep herself hidden. Herself and the small group of ragtag survivors who fled the city. Only a few of them spoke English, but that's neither here nor there.. They all had the same goal. Live. And to live as they are... Not as one of them. Mariam had gone into town to get access to a convenience store. Steal some food, bring back to the camp. It hadn't gone well. She and her small party were found... And found by Kai, of all people.

With a content groan, Boris pulls himself out of his body filled bed. Paying no attention to the two female vampires feasting on a half dead human at the foot of the bed. It smells like sex and blood. Just how Boris likes it, but the night had barely started, and he’s already bored. Sex, blood, sleep, and repeat. Gaining this immortal life has been a gift from Kai, sure, but Boris isn’t half bored now they have so much of Russia under control. And soon the rest of the world. Thinking of, Boris might go give Kai a visit. Been a while since he last saw that bastard. He might have some fun things for Boris to do.

[starqualityreadings]

Who's still thinking about you ? PAC reading

pick the scene you feel called to

I appreciate any feedback & thanks for reading !

1

time and space

a person you want to talk to wants to talk to you too . there are a lot of unexpressed feelings here, it feels like two people who grew apart or had to move away from each other. there could have been a false start or things that prevented you from fully having a relationship or knowing each other. a lot of things feel like forced choices or circumstances.

they imagine you as doing very well. someone who works hard to surround themselves with the things they want in life. its almost like they don't want to bother you or disturb your peace.

they have an idealized version of you in their head. at one time you were the complete package to them or did things that were very in tune with what they wanted from a connection. you may have been more soft and nurturing than what they were normally used to.

they are definitely thinking about the times you had together and craving more. in some ways, you deeply satisfied them and no one has given them the same feeling since you. they wish you would visit them or that they could see you again.

this person thinks about reaching out to you often and looks at your social medias or checks on you in any way they can. however, they are hoping you reach out to them first.

2

give and take

there may have been a lot of arguments, a bad breakup or even a toxic relationship you recently moved on from. this person stopped meeting your standards or you saw that they were never actually capable of doing so. Maybe they were presenting themselves as better or doing things they couldn't maintain over time.

age difference or emotional immaturity that should have been corrected by their age is significant. they may be thinking they can improve themselves to win you back or have one up on you.

they may be dating someone new or claiming they've moved on but deep down they are still emotionally attached to you. this may be especially hard because they had a lot of hopes for this connection or you may have planned a lot of things for your futures together.

this person is still very much upset and possibly vindictive or petty towards you because of this. they are struggling with the idea of fully moving on and wondering if there is any way they can get your attention.

3

knowing your worth

you may have left this person or situation to protect your peace after you felt unappreciated or betrayed

this is someone who is depressed, has a lot of baggage, or is often sick. this person is likely older, could have a higher position, or just thought they were superior to you in some way

I wouldn't necessarily say regret, but this person does feel bad for how they treated you at certain times or how things ended between you

your absence made this person realize just how meaningful your presence is. they could have been a lot more grateful or gracious towards you

they have thought about reaching out but you already blocked them or they feel like you would not want to hear them out after everything

a lot of things were felt but never said here. they wish they would have listened to you more or taken what you weren't saying to them into consideration. if you were going through a harder time than they originally thought, they are more aware of that now.

[wifelivvyx]

I love your Weasley fics they’re so cute and mischievous. Could you do George and muggle reader after hogwarts? Maybe she just thinks he’s a magician at first or something whatever you want it to be. I love the trope 🤷‍♀️ if it’s already been done then ty in advance :)

Oh, I love this idea! Imagine Muggle!Reader just thinking George is some next-level street magician, completely unaware that he's actually using real magic.

Like, she sees him pull something impossible, and he just winks and goes, "Trade secret, love."

Meanwhile, Fred is losing his mind in the background because George is absolutely not correcting her HELPP

A Magician and a Muggle

George Weasley x Muggle!Reader

You had always liked magic tricks.

Sleight of hand, card tricks, disappearing acts - you could spend hours watching street magicians pull off impossible feats with nothing but a smirk and a flourish.

Which was probably why you found yourself completely enchanted by George Weasley.

You weren’t sure how you met him, exactly. One minute, you were sitting in a coffee shop, reading a book. The next, some tall, freckled guy with a ridiculous grin had made your spoon disappear right off your saucer.

“I - what?” You blinked.

George waggled his eyebrows. “Impressive, yeah?”

You frowned. “Okay, but where is it?”

He held up his hands, empty. “That, my dear, is the question.”

You gave him a suspicious look before turning to check your seat, the floor, even your pockets. Nothing.

By the time you turned back, he was twirling the spoon between his fingers like it had been there the whole time.

You stared. “Okay, how?”

He winked. “Trade secret.”

ϑ𐑞

You had never met a magician like George.

He was charming, mischievous, and had the most insane tricks you had ever seen.

Like the time he turned your tea into hot chocolate mid-sip. Or when he made a full deck of cards shuffle themselves through the air. Or - your personal favorite - the time he conjured a bouquet of flowers out of thin air when you offhandedly mentioned liking lilies.

“I know how most magic tricks work,” you had huffed one evening as he flicked his wand (or, as he called it, his ‘special magician’s wand’) and made the sugar cubes levitate into your coffee. “But this? This is some next-level stuff.”

George leaned on his elbow, grinning. “Are you saying I’m better than all those other magicians?”

“I’m saying I have no idea how you’re doing this,” you corrected, watching the sugar cubes gently plop into your cup. “It’s freakishly good.”

Fred - whom you had only recently met - let out a choked laugh from across the table.

You raised a brow. “What?”

George waved a hand. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous.”

Fred spluttered. “Jealous - ? George, you absolute menace-”

George coughed loudly, kicking his brother under the table. “As I was saying! Some things are best left a mystery, yeah?”

You eyed him. “You’re hiding something.”

He smirked. “Oh, loads of things, love.”

Fred groaned.

ϑ𐑞...

It all came to a head one afternoon when you casually walked into George’s flat and found his teacup floating in mid-air.

You froze.

George - who had been mid-sip - looked at you, eyes wide. Slowly, carefully, he lowered the cup back onto the table.

“…Hi.”

You stared.

He cleared his throat. “So, funny thing-”

“You’re an actual wizard?!”

George winced. “Okay, yes, but in my defense, you never asked if it was real magic-”

“BECAUSE THAT’S NOT A NORMAL THING TO ASK, GEORGE!”

Fred, standing in the doorway, wheezed. “She thought you were a magician, you prat-”

“I am a magician!” George huffed. “Just… a real one.”

You ran a hand down your face. “I - I can’t believe this.”

George gave you a hopeful smile. “So… still fancy me, or did the whole ‘actual wizard’ thing ruin my charm?”

You stared at him.

Then, after a long pause, you sighed.

“You owe me an explanation,” you muttered.

George beamed. “Absolutely. But first-” He flicked his wand, and a chocolate bar appeared in his hand. He handed it to you with a wink.

“Trick or treat?”

You snatched it from him with a glare.

Fred collapsed onto the floor laughing.

[sunsbaby]

❝ de. i think i'm stuck... ❞

❝ sam will you help me! gosh... ❞

⋆ dean w. & sam w. x photographer .ᐟ reader

ever since you began hunting with the boys, their life went in a new direction. they found themselves appreciating the little things a bit more—such as taking photos, just on their phones and not a huge camera. sam had taken more of an interest than dean, following you around and secretly 'learning' from you. dean, however, he didn't care for it, but somehow he always took the best photos. albeit some are rather embarrassing, like you with pie all over your face, but they were fond memories and a way for him to relive the moment again.

"biride, hurry up. we don't have all day." dean groaned, his head falling back as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

sam stood on the side-lines, too busy in whatever lore he was reading to focus on the important matter at hand—important in your words. there was a beautiful bird high up in a tree, one that you had to climb in order to get close enough; that's how you ended up perched on a branch, camera held tightly in your grasp as you shot a look down towards dean.

"de, do not distract me or so help me god i will break this camera on your head!" you threatened in a hushed whisper as to not scare away the creature in front of you. "and you will buy me a new one."

"yea right, birdie. you won't do anything, and i'm not buying you anything." dean teased, sam let out a sigh—he gave dean 'the look.'

somehow sam thought this was the perfect moment to take a picture of, their birdie trying to take a photo of a bird. he let out a chuckle as his finger pressed the button on his phone, a snapping sound echoed through the trees when you both clicked a button at the same time. the bird flew away, but you were successful. celebrating your victory with a little dance—to which dean face-palmed at.

when you attempted to get down, you realized something was off. you quite literally could not climb down. your lips pursed and you tried to come up with a plan inside your head—which was filled with song lyrics and what else you could take a picture of. not helpful, so you resorted to your only other option. sam and dean!

"de. i think i'm stuck..." your voice was almost quiet, which dean took as an opening to tease you.

"huh? what was that birdie? i can't hear your chirping from down here." he said, that dumb grin etched onto his face—a face you couldn't wait to smack.

"sam, will you help me!" you almost yelled as a pout formed on your glossy lips—no dry lips around here! "gosh..."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

after that stressful part of the day, you settled into the backseat of baby while the boys sat in the front. people might think that you're being forced to sit in the back—no, it's actually the opposite. who wants to sit between two men, especially ones who spread their legs like they're the only ones sitting there. at least in the back you can lay down, and not think about the sexual activities that have gone down. it makes for a great way to take pictures of them with out their knowledge.

"can we stop at a gas station, i want snacks." you asked as you poked your head into the front, turning up the music in the process.

"i could go for some too." sam joked, his eyes focusing in on yours.

a soft smile played at his lips—he couldn't imagine life without you. you'd just walst into it and changed them for the better. no matter how far you went, your wings always brought you back.

"i guess, birdie..." dean grumbled, he knew good and well that he couldn't say no to you. neither could sam. "shut up, bitch." dean joked with sam, a genuine smile forming on deans stubbled face.

"jerk."

the sun faded in the background as you sang out into the sky, the wind tangling in your hair. another day spent with your boys and memories made. that was what a good day is to you.

sunny yaps! HIII EVERYONEE! 👯‍♀️ photographer!readers first little story/drabble! i hope you guys like her and pls share your thoughts and opinions! I LOVE HEARING THEM!

special tags! @bluemerakis @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @sunsettsam @h8aaz @deansbeer

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

fangirling and finances 𓂂 𓇼˚｡ •

Summary: offical merch is expensive. the men who sell it are rich. doesn't mean i won't go in a rant about it.

✿ ln x desi!reader ✦

✿ fluff + humour ✦

masterlist ☾☼

monaco glistened in the mediterranean sunlight, a playground for the global elite. y/n, though, had another purpose. no need for the designer stores; she was tracking lando norris. she gripped her phone, praying she could take a photo if she managed to get close enough. her wardrobe? a much-worn "lando 4" t-shirt, a copy she'd bought from a street stall back home in india. official f1 merchandise prices would make her cry – genuinely, who could possibly afford those prices? seeing a known face by the casino square, y/n's heart leaped. it was him! taking a deep breath, she walked over, attempting to look as casual as possible. "mr. norris, may i have an autograph?" lando grinned, always the professional, and autographed her phone case. as he returned it to her, his eyes fell on her t-shirt. "cool shirt," he said, "but why not get the official merch? the quality is so much better." that was it. the floodgates opened. "are you kidding me? official merch is highway robbery! i could practically fund a small road trip around europe with the cost of one of your official hoodies!" lando blinked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. road trips? he was more used to private jets. "uh-huh," he said, clearly not understanding the financial reality of budget travel. y/n was going strong. "see, a good official t-shirt will cost you about 80 euros, okay? that's, like, 7,200 rupees! i can buy at least five of these fake shirts for that kind of money, and they're not half bad! or, let's look at it this way, that's enough for, like, 140 big mac meals in india! imagine the food coma!" lando stared at her, confusion and fascination warring in his gaze. big macs? he lived in michelin-star restaurants. but she was so vivid, so evocative with her words; the sheer incredulity of her comparisons swept him up in their wake. "right," he answered slowly, "big macs. got it." y/n, unaware of his millionaire thinking, was only just beginning. "and those caps? don't even get me started! 40 euros for a cap? that's 3,600 rupees! i could buy a good pair of running shoes for that! shoes i could use to run away from those ridiculous prices!" lando, however, was undergoing some weird phenomenon. it was akin to "cuteness aggression," but rather than having the urge to squeeze a puppy, he simply wanted to continue hearing her. her furrowed brow, the frantic maths on her phone, the very universality of her money troubles – it was all oddly charming. casually, he suggested, "so, if money did not matter, what pieces would you most want?" y/n, without hesitation, recited her fantasy wishlist: a team polo, windbreaker, the limited-edition monaco hat, even the official team backpack. she listed the prices both in euros and rupees, not even catching lando's discreetly opening eyes at the sum. "and where are you staying?" he inquired, attempting to be casual. "how long are you in monaco?" y/n, still enthralled by her merchandise fever, replied eagerly, sharing information about her budget hotel and the last few days of her journey. lando listened intently, taking it in. "i'll… uh… i'll see what i can do with those prices," he replied with a small smile, well aware he wasn't going to negotiate with the official merchandise vendor. the next morning, an unassuming van arrived outside of y/n's hotel. a delivery man appeared, holding an enormous, unorthodox-looking package. on the inside, wrapped in tissues, were every item y/n had listed. the monaco cap, team polo, windbreaker, even the backpack. in a side pocket was stuck a tiny note, scribbled in pen: "look at the prices… adjusted ;) - lando." y/n gazed at the box contents, her mouth agape. she couldn't believe it. lando had actually… he'd listened to her rant! she messaged her friends immediately, telling them the tale in wide-eyed wonder, exaggerating the details just a little for dramatic effect. the question now was: what next? would this be an isolated act of kindness, or the start of something bigger? she had no clue, but she couldn't help grinning. this was certainly a vacation to remember.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

tf, why do i like this? dee, this is for you. anyways, i hope you like this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff ; @opastries81

[shiyorin]

#When Primarchs send dick pic to you

#Konrad Curze x F!Reader (Reader is Imperial Agent)

#Reader is very sass

#NSFW, non-con, many things

Note: Actually I wrote this as a joke so don't expect too much from it ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ

The Night Haunter felt his skin too tight, his body thrumming with an unfamiliar energy that set his teeth on edge. He'd been feeling… off for days now, plagued by urges he didn't understand and couldn't seem to shake.

He growled, raking his fingers through his tangled hair. What was wrong with him? He felt hot, agitated, like his very blood was on fire. And his cock… Konrad glanced down with a mixture of confusion and frustration. It had been hard for hours, throbbing insistently no matter how he tried to ignore it.

This wasn't normal. None of this was normal. Konrad Curze didn't get horny. He didn't feel desire or lust or any of those base, animal urges. He was above such things.

But…

His skin was flushed and damp with sweat, every nerve ending hypersensitive. When he wrapped a hand around his cock, he had to bite back a groan at how good it felt.

"What is happening to me?" he muttered, staring down at himself in bewilderment.

His cock was rock hard, the shaft thick and veiny, the head swollen and flushed an angry red. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, making his palm slide slickly as he stroked himself. It felt good, too good. Pleasure coiled in his gut, making his breath come faster.

Konrad's mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. Was this some kind of sickness? A curse? Had one of his brothers done something to him?

No… no, this felt different. Natural, in a way that terrified him. Like his body knew exactly what it wanted, even if his mind rebelled against it.

As he stroked himself, chasing that maddening pleasure, an image flashed through Konrad's mind. You, who'd somehow wormed your way into that. Into his life, if he was being honest.

The thought of you made his cock twitch, a fresh surge of pre-cum slicking his fingers. Konrad growled, angry and confused and so fucking turned on he could barely think straight.

Why you? Why now? It didn't make any sense. And yet he couldn't get you out of his head. Couldn't stop imagining your hands on him instead of his own-

"Fuck!" Konrad snarled, his hips jerking as he stroked himself faster. He was close, so close, teetering on the edge of something he didn't understand but desperately needed.

In that moment of madness, an idea struck him. Before he could think better of it, Konrad grabbed his data-slate from the nearby table. With shaking hands, he activated the camera function and angled it down at himself.

The image that appeared on the screen made him pause. His cock looked even bigger than he'd realized, angry and swollen against the pale skin of his stomach. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip, threatening to spill over.

It was obscene. Vulgar. The kind of thing that would horrify most people.

But you weren't most people, were you?

Before his common sense could reassert itself, Konrad hit send. The message went out with a soft chime, carrying that damning image straight to your data-slate.

For a moment, everything was still. Then the full weight of what he'd just done crashed over Konrad like a tidal wave.

"No," he whispered, staring at the screen in horror. "No, no, no…"

His foresight, which had been strangely quiet until now, suddenly roared to life. Visions flashed through his mind, your shocked face as you opened the message, your disgust, your anger. He saw you blocking his vox channel, saw the ripple effects this moment of madness would have on his already strained relationship with you.

"No!" Konrad roared, hurling the data-slate across the room. It shattered against the wall, but it was too late. The damage was done.

Meanwhile, lightyears away, you were enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet.

Of course, that's when your data-slate chimed with an incoming message.

You sighed, reaching for the device. If this was another emergency, you were going to lose it.

But the name that popped up on your screen made you pause. Konrad Curze? What the hell did he want?

Curiosity piqued, you opened the message. For a moment, your brain couldn't process what you were seeing. Then realization dawned, and your eyes went wide.

"What the actual fuck?!" You yelped, nearly dropping the data-slate in shock.

There, filling your screen, was a high-definition image of Konrad Curze's cock. And not just any picture, oh no. This was a full-on, close-up money shot, complete with glistening pre-cum and throbbing veins.

You stared at it in disbelief, your mind reeling. Of all the things you'd expected from the Night Haunter, a dick pic was pretty much dead last on the list.

"Is this a joke?" You muttered, zooming in despite yourself. "Did someone hack his vox channel?"

But no, as you studied the image (purely for investigative purposes, of course), you realized this was definitely Konrad. You recognized the scars on his lower abdomen, the pale skin that never saw sunlight.

This was real. Konrad Curze, terror of the night, had just sent you an unsolicited dick pic.

"Un-fucking-believable!" you groaned.

Part of you wanted to laugh. It was just so absurd, so completely out of character for Konrad. But a larger part was scared. You are scared even though you want to laugh.

"Nope." You said firmly, shaking your head to banish that thought. "Not going there. Not even a little bit."

You considered your options. You could ignore it, pretend you'd never seen it. But knowing Konrad, he'd probably show up in person to "follow up" if you didn't respond. And worse, he will flay you if you disrespect and ignore him.

You made a mental note to beef up security around the compound. And maybe comeback Terra, lord Malcador can protect you, just in cass. Because something told you this wouldn't be the last surprise Konrad had in store.

In the end, there was really only one option. With a decisive tap, you blocked Konrad's vox channel.

"Fucking Primarchs." you muttered, tossing the data-slate aside. "Can't live with them, can't shoot 'em out an airlock."

*****

The moonlight cast eerie shadows across your bedroom as you stirred from your slumber. Something had woken you, a presence that set your nerves on edge. Your eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus in the dim light.

A dark figure loomed near your bed, barely visible in the gloom. Your heart raced, your mind foggy with sleep and confusion. Who the fuck was that? An intruder? An assassin? You couldn't make out any details in the darkness.

Your hand inched towards the knife you kept by the bed, fingers curling around the cool metal. Better safe than sorry, you thought.

The floorboards creaked softly as the mysterious figure approached. You tensed, ready to swing, but then something unexpected happened. Instead of attacking, the intruder simply… climbed into bed with you.

What the actual fuck?

Before you could process this bizarre turn of events, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a broad chest. A face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning across your skin.

Your eyes flew wide, shock clearing the last cobwebs of sleep from your mind. This close, you could finally make out the intruder's features.

Oh shit. It was Konrad. Konrad fucking Curze.

And he was naked. Completely, utterly naked.

As if to confirm your realization, Konrad shifted his hips and, yep, that was definitely his cock sliding between your thighs. You bit back a startled yelp, your mind racing. What the hell was happening?

Normally he'd be all creepy whispers and thinly veiled threats, not… whatever the fuck this was. Cuddling? Was the Night Haunter actually cuddling you?

Before you could decide how to react, Konrad's hand snaked down between your bodies. You held your breath, wondering if this was about to take an even weirder turn, but his fingers bypassed you completely, wrapping around his own cock instead.

Oh. Oh no.

Konrad began stroking himself, his breath coming faster against your neck. His hips rocked, sliding his length back and forth between your thighs in time with his hand.

You lay frozen, caught between disbelief and a weird sort of fascination. This was so far outside the realm of normal Konrad behavior that you almost wondered if you were dreaming. But no, the heat of his body, the slight scratch of his teeth against your skin, the slick sounds of skin on skin… this was all too real.

It didn't last long. With a muffled groan, Konrad's body tensed. You felt his cock pulse, then warm wetness splattered across your thighs.

What. The. Fuck.

For a moment, everything was still. Konrad's ragged breathing was the only sound in the room. Then, to your utter bewilderment, he started moving again. His hand returned to his cock, which was already hardening once more.

Seriously? You thought, incredulous. What is he, sixteen?

As Konrad's hips began rocking again, sliding through the mess he'd just made, realization dawned. The weird behavior, the lack of threats or violence, the insane refractory period…

Oh no, you groaned internally. He is horny.

You'd known, biologically, that the other Primarchs would be horny. But somehow you hadn't connected that to Konrad. He always seemed so… disconnected from his more base urges. Apparently even the Night Haunter wasn't immune to biology.

Now you had a dilemma on your hands. On one hand, this was Konrad fucking Curze. The guy was seven kinds of crazy on a good day, and letting him get his rocks off while you pretended to sleep was probably a terrible idea. On the other hand… well, he wasn't actually hurting you. And if you revealed that you were awake, who knew how he'd react?

Better to let him finish and leave, you decided. Then you could bleach your brain and pretend this never happened.

But Konrad showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. His movements grew more frantic, his breathing harsh against your skin. You could feel the tremors running through his body, the desperation in every thrust.

Fuck, you realized. He's completely lost in it. He probably doesn't even know where he is right now.

Konrad came again with a choked sound, his whole body shuddering. You grimaced at the fresh wave of wetness coating your thighs. Great. You were going to need like, three showers after this. Maybe four.

To your dismay, Konrad showed no signs of leaving after his second orgasm. If anything, he seemed to curl around you more tightly, his face buried in your hair.

Oh hell no, you thought. I am not spending the whole night as a body pillow for a horny Primarch.

Decision made, you took a deep breath and spoke.

"You know, if you wanted to cuddle, you could have just asked."

Konrad went rigid against you, his whole body tensing like a coiled spring. For a moment, you wondered if you'd made a terrible mistake. Then, to your utter shock, Konrad let out a sound that could only be described as a squeak.

Before you could process that, he was gone. You blinked at the sudden loss of warmth against your back. You rolled over, half-expecting to see Konrad looming over your bed, but the room was empty. The only sign he'd been there at all was the open window, curtains billowing in the night breeze.

"Did… did he just jump out the fucking window?" You muttered, staring in disbelief.

You pushed yourself up, grimacing at the sticky mess coating your thighs. A quick glance confirmed your suspicions, yep, those sheets were definitely ruined.

You made a mental note to ask Malcador about it when you return Terra. And maybe to invest in some better locks for your windows.

[starrihan]

Smoking Weed w/ Nicholas

-> Pairing: smoker! Nicholas x afab! Reader

-> Genre: smut, kissing, neck kissing, oral (m receiving), reader and Nicho are basically strangers, slight spit play

-> Warnings: smoking

-> Word Count: 2,278

-> Notes: Ive seen 2 different posts about smoking with Nicholas/ Nicholas smoking and I find the idea so hot so here is how I headcannon smoking weed with nicho would be like (even tho its not in like typical hc format) also this is barely proofread

Also this was the inspo for this fic btw: Imagine going down on him because you’re so high and so horny and you’re trying to suck his dick but your mouth is dry because you have cotton mouth so he smirks and picks your jaw up with his finger, spitting in your mouth to make it wet again - i wrote this while i was high 

༄ ༄ ༄

You would meet him once at a party, not really knowing much about him besides his name since your friend introduced you two. You guys would chill for a bit with your friend and her boyfriend, Euijoo, until they went off on their own and you and Nicholas did the same.

You found yourself talking to some of your other friends but eventually, the loud music was too much for you so you stepped outside in the backyard that wasn’t as occupied and where the music could barely be heard.

You lean against the fence on the deck, not paying much mind to your surroundings as you pull out your phone.

“Couldn’t stand it in there either?”

You turn your head slightly to see the stranger talking to you, before realizing that the voice belonged to the boy you met not too long ago. You sighed, agreeing with him. You were staring at the joint in his hand, watching as he bounced it between his two fingers. He noticed your eyes staring at it.

“Wanna hit?”

You looked at him, curious. You had smoked before and the feeling was rather enjoyable. Maybe it would help you feel a little better about this boring party.

“Sure, thanks.”

You respond as he hands you the joint. He watches you as you bring it up to your lips, lightly inhaling to control the amount of intake. You pass it back to him when you’re done, holding the smoke in your mouth for a bit until you feel it reach your lungs, exhaling a decent cloud as you basked in the slight burning feeling in your chest.

You did feel a little better, the act of taking a hit alone making you feel more relaxed.

“Why are you here anyways? I mean, you don’t seem like you’re having a good time.”

He says, taking another hit. His slightly messy hair and silver chains caught your attention. You couldn’t tell before with the inadequate lighting inside the house but he was really attractive under the glow of the moonlight.

“Neither do you.”

He chuckles as he passes you back the joint, this time you take a bigger hit than before. Upon exhaling, you cough, to which he hands you the water bottle that he had kept on the banister.

“First time smoking?”

You shake your head ‘no’ as you drink the water, the cough subsiding.

“I just haven’t done it in a while. Did a little more than I could handle.”

He nods in understanding, giving you a second to recover. Once you feel better, you take another drag without coughing this time, the effect of the weed starting to hit you. You ash the joint before handing it back to him, fingers brushing his as you look away, face warming up at the contact. You can tell by the way his eyes droop and the whites of his eyes slowly become redder that he’s high.

“Wanna walk with me? I’m getting tired of just standing in this spot.”

You think for a second before agreeing, grabbing your stuff from your friend and informing her that you’d be leaving.

You both walk around aimlessly, passing the joint back and forth. Your conversation was everywhere, not being able to focus on one thing at a time. You were starting to lighten up, laughing more freely around him and his jokes. He was actually pretty funny.

You went from talking about your friends, to classes, to the stars above you and even the greater meaning of the vast universe. It didn’t take long before the joint had run its course, shrinking with every passing minute until it was nothing but a mere roach.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realize how much we’d smoked.”

He says, laughing.

“Really? I’m not even that high. Do you have another one?”

You laugh with him. To be honest, you were fairly high, but you enjoyed his company and conversation and you didn’t want this to end.

“Damn, no I don’t. But, my residence hall is right there. Would you mind waiting for me while I get it?”

“Could I come with, if you don’t mind? It’s just… it’s dark out and I don’t want to be out alone…”

“Oh my— yeah you can. I’m sorry I didn’t realize what I was saying. I know better than to leave a woman alone by herself at night, I promise.”

You laugh at his rushed sentence and he loosens up, laughing with you as you both walk to his room. You take in the posters and dark sheets that lay on his bed, waiting for him to grab another joint.

“Do you wanna go back outside?”

He asks, sitting in his desk chair, quickly grinding more weed to pack into the joint.

“Actually, could we stay inside? It’s kinda cold out there…”

You say sheepishly, but he agrees.

“Take a seat on my desk,”

He says and you hop up onto the desk, sitting in front of him. Once he has the next one ready, he lights it before handing it to you.

"Ladies first~"

He says, cheekily. You laugh, taking the joint from his hand. He watches the way your fingers move the joint up to your lips, and the way your lips wrap around the end of it, finding the act hot. He looks away from you, cheeks hot, from both the weed and the blush forming on his face.

You tap his shoulder, passing back the joint as you exhale, his eyes following the cloud of smoke disappearing into the air. He places a hand on your knee, just below your thigh before taking a hit. You feel your body start to tense up, feeling warm at the sudden contact.

He was unbelievably attractive, especially when his eyes were red and droopy, looking up at you with that lazy smile. You were lost looking into his eyes. It's like your body would move before you could process what it was doing as you find yourself holding the joint up to his mouth, waiting for him to inhale. He quirks his eyebrow at you, holding your wrist in place as he takes a hit. Your breath catches in your throat, watching the way his Adam's apple bobs slightly upon inhaling.

He flicks his eyes up from the joint to your face, holding the smoke in his mouth while reaching his hand behind your neck before pulling you down to meet his lips. Your surprised yelp has him smirking into the kiss, letting the smoke migrate from his mouth to yours. You feel dizzy, head spinning at action, thighs clenching together. He rests his hand that's not behind your neck on your thigh, rubbing soothing, little circles into it.

The way his tongue ever-so-slightly glides across yours has you leaning in for more. You put the joint down on his desk, its ashes falling astray against the faux soapstone. He doesn't care though, pushing his chair back and grabbing under your thighs to move you onto his lap. You're straddling him, hands in his hair, tugging on it as you reciprocate his earlier move, swiping your tongue against his lips. He gladly opens his mouth as he rests one hand on your ass, the other traveling up your shirt to feel the skin of your waist.

"Is this okay?"

He asks, pulling away from the kiss to catch his breath. You nod, trying to catch your own breath. You're staring into his eyes as he moves his hand along your body, groping your ass. He doesn't break the contact either, enjoying the light blush dusting your face and the way your hair is slightly disheveled. You reach behind you, picking up the joint and smoking from it before putting it back down, letting it reach your chest before you pull him back in for a kiss. The smoke dances across your tongues as you messily kiss each other. You pull away first this time, moving his head to your neck as he places both hands on your waist.

He's taking his time on your neck, sucking and nipping lightly at first, hands traveling up to your chest before pulling your bra down, playing with your nipples. You gasp, arching your back and bringing you into him more. You can feel his teeth sink into your skin, wincing at the slight sting. You shift on his lap, feeling his hard length pressing up against your thigh. You take the opportunity to grind down on him, laughing when he gasps into your neck.

"Someone's riled up, huh?"

He says, smirking up at you.

"I can say the same for you. Someone's excited"

You both laugh as you stand up, kneeling on his floor as you look up at him with pleading eyes, fingers moving towards the button on his jeans. He's already looking down at you, nodding as he lifts his hips up a little. You unbutton his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until they're pooled at his ankles. Your mouth drops at the sight of his dick, perfectly long and hard. You trace the veins along the underside of his dick with your index finger, mesmerized. Nicholas can feel a deep blush creeping up to his cheeks.

You finally wrap your hand around the base, earring a yelp from him. You can’t find it in yourself to keep a straight face, a direct result of being high. He’s fidgeting, bouncing his leg at the anticipation of your hand around his cock.

“You look really pretty like this.”

You say. He's laughing as he looks away, not being able to control himself or his nerves. You take the chance to start pumping your hand up and down, mouth dry as his hips buck slightly into your hands. You lick the tip, playfully gliding your tongue along the slit. A guttural groan escapes his throat as he prods his dick into your mouth. You pull back, trying to gather enough saliva in your mouth, finding the task nearly impossible.

The cotton mouth you were experiencing was crazy. You looked around for a second, looking for a water bottle when Nicholas notices your frenzy. You look up at him, motioning with your hand that you need water. The smirk that creeps up on his face is almost evil when he quickly leans forward, grabbing your chin. You look at him, confused.

"Open your mouth"

You do as he says, slowly opening your mouth. He finds the saliva he needs, gathering it in his mouth before letting it spill it into yours. You're shocked, but your thighs are clenched together, heat rising to your cheeks. You hold his spit in your mouth as he gently pushes you away, looking down before letting a big string of his own spit travel down his length.

"That should be good enough"

You nod, dipping your head back down and taking half his length in your throat. His hands immediately snake their way into your hair, pushing back any loose strands that may have been in your way. You're focused on taking him in fully, bobbing your head up and down as his grunts fill the room. He's leaned back, completely relaxed in your hands as his hips start moving slowly to meet your movements. He's fully in your mouth at this point, tip hitting the back of your throat as you try so hard to suppress your gag reflex. 

You take a second, grounding yourself and catching your breath through your nose before continuing. The sound of your gagging is like music to Nicholas’s ears, his pace increasing as his breaths become shallow. His grip on your hair strengthens as he moves your head for you. Your hands that were once holding the chair slam down on his thighs in a bruising grip, determined to have him finish in your mouth. You let him take control, drooling all down his length and thighs. 

“Fuck Y/N… taking me so well…”

His praise has you shoving a hand between your legs, rubbing yourself through your jeans to get any sort of relief. You take the chance to lick around the base, a slight sting in the back of head from his tightening grip letting you know that he’s close. You can’t help it as you move your fingers faster over the rough material, the vibrations from your moans sending Nicholas even higher into the clouds. His animalistic groan fills your ears as his hips stall, pushing your head further down into him as he coats the inside of your throat with thick ropes of cum. You frantically tap his hand, signalling him to let go of your head. 

He notices your distress, quickly removing his hand and pulling your head off of him. He watches as you gulp down his liquids, tongue darting out to catch any remnants that may have escaped. His eyes trail down to your other hand, watching as you continue to touch yourself. He stands up, helping you stand before picking you up and placing you on his bed. He goes back over to his desk, grabbing what's left of the joint and taking another hit before handing it back to you. He captures your lips yet again, this time trailing his hands down your stomach and into your jeans, feeling the growing wet patch on your panties before rubbing slow circles over your clit. You whimper at his touch, leaning your head on his shoulder as another wave of your high hits you. 

“You did such a good job sucking me off like that, it's only fair that I return the favor, right?"

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Side note: One of the fics I read had him smoking a cigarette and I absolutely HATE cigarettes but the idea of seeing him with a cigarette in his mouth and between his fingers is so hot to me

[pricegouge]

an increase of interest and sweet, encouraging asks and also these posts (i, ii) have led me to do the unthinkable: write a little extracurricular for haul, can you even believe it?

went in a bit of a different direction here. i've gotten a lot of asks about past victims and while i don't really wanna get too bogged down in the specifics of their time with the boys, i thought it might be fun to see how different price is from simon when he's hunting so. here's a different doll not knowing what's good for her.

cw: prostitution, coercion, kidnapping. implied murder. unedited cause i'm freaking out to be touching this again lmao. MDNI

You know something's wrong with him. Beyond the pale, beyond the knowledge you could never introduce him to your mother. That you're used to, well-versed at. It's something worse, something unsettling. something that clings to you long after he leaves, the very cells he sheds infecting, spreading.

Within and without.

You'll be like on of his soon if you're not careful - that pack of rabid dogs that follow him. It disturbs you, how easily you can see yourself among them sometimes, glinting eyes and too-sharp teeth. One more desert predator, runt of the pack and yet a par of it.

Better never to know. Better to leave it like this - small doses. Better to let him fuck you in a truck stop shower so you can scrub yourself clean after, pretend you remain unchanged by him. Ignore all the evidence suggesting otherwise, the undeniable ache and the trail of come he always leaves to trickle down your thigh.

You should know better, but it's hard to remember when his thick cock is driving up into you in one slow drag, splitting you open cruelly just to hear you cry about it.

He like them, your tears. Too much, probably, but you like the drag of his tongue on your cheek too, hot even in the tepid spray of hard water. You feel the rough scrape of his beard at your temple and wonder - is he actually infectious, or were you always predisposed? Was this something you were always capable of? Letting a customer add your services to their tab? Take you out back with their to-go bags and their travel-sized toiletries? You like to think nit, like to blame John and that strange quality of his, the way he can somehow manage to make you feel less-than and wanted for it all at once, sells you some unspoken promise of betterment if you just play along.

You sweat you know better, but you've said that before. It's how you wind up back here, always back here, his bulging bicep wrapped around your throat as he grunts in your ear.

He's pressed against your back as closely as he can be, so tight you imagine the runoff can't even slip between you. But that can't be right because he's slick against you, streams of soap finding their way down your spine through the follicles of his thick chest hair, coating your skin to let him work against you in slick, slow grinds. You can feel his belly settled against the small of your back, forcing you to arch your spine just so, let him fuck in deep to the very end of you, cock head leaking against your cervix.

He'd asked you if you were on some sort of contraceptive once, much too late for it to have mattered. You'd told yourself you wouldn't take his money again when you'd caught the look of disappointment on his face, but you'd told yourself a lot of things.

It's hard to feel shame, in the moment, at least. And maybe that's the worst part - the fact that you ache for him when he's away. Empty, hungry. But if there's something wrong with him that means there's something wrong with you, right? That means the long nights spent with your fingers stuffed in your cunt just wishing for something thicker are just as bad as this: bellied up against a dirty shower stall with a strange man's cock buried so deep inside you you're sure it'll take this time, that seed of doubt that makes you want to climb in his truck when he inevitable offers. Why settle for lot lizard when you could just be his?

Of course, he never phrases it like that, never admits he'll keep you. And maybe he won't but he'd take you Arkansas, maybe, where his plates are from. North, where he's headed tonight perhaps. Usually you see him returning form out West and you wonder… He doesn't have to keep you. You don't need to hear him say it. Cause whatever's wrong with him, it's catching.

But he doesn't ask, not when he's still panting like a bellows in your ear, rocking his hips against you aimlessly as he works you both through it. He doesn't ask when he slips free and immediately cups his callused palm against your cunt, groaning when he feels his own spend leaking onto his hand. He certainly doesn't ask when he makes you lick it clean, salt and the heavy tang of grease which Irish Springs will never fully cut through. You think maybe he'll ask when he goes to shove the money in your hand, as is his usual. But he doesn't, so you do, your own stomach acid boiling up your esophagus as you try (and fail) to keep the desperate edge out of your voice.

And John, well. You did know there was something wrong with him.

"What's is to you?" he grunts, hand snapping back out of your reach when you go to take the proffered money.

"But… you said -?"

"Know what I said. Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he soothes, a balm for the fear you hadn't even been able to voice. "Just… maybe it'll look different now?"

"How do you mean?" you hedge, and John steps closer, blots out the flickering overhead light. Behind him, the door to the shower room opens and rapidly closes, the soft pad of boots treading back down the hall confirming your would-be voyeur had wanted nothing to do with this scene.

At least your reputation remained undamaged.

"I mean. I'll keep you fed. Clothed. Keep you out of the elements. You really gonna make me pay on top of all that?"

"Oh," you wilt. "I guess not."

John's eyes crinkle when he grins at you encouragingly, that same deceptively endearing quality that had first drawn you to him all those months ago. He pulls you against himself, lets you bask in the warmth of his soft, furry chest as he continues to soothe your fears. "But don't worry, not gonna let you put yourself in a bind, hm? You still got something saved from my last visit, yeah? And if you ever need some more, we'll find you some work." He swats you on the ass before you can protest, leaning away to collect his flannel. "Now get dressed. Running behind schedule and I'm already gonna have to skip a stop in Oakley."

"That why you didn't take the time to stretch me open properly?" you ask, cheeky - testing your boundaries. You're pleasantly surprised when he just huffs a laugh, leans close to grown in your ear about how he'll never have to stretch you open again.

It's surreal following him out, ducking behind his broad frame to let him weather the stare of the would-be voyeur. John doesn't flinch so neither do you, head back to your post behind the till with the same confidence you've seen among his boys. A runt still maybe, but part of the pack now.

"Where're you off to?" John asks when he sees you slinking off in the wrong direction. You wait until the other driver disappears down the hall to unlock the register, grinning at your partner as you lift a few hundred from it.

"I know what 'some work' means," you say by way of explanation, and frown when it fails to earn any sign of chastisement.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, love," John warns instead, eyes rolling warily to the overhead security camera.

You wave him off, a loose fiver fluttering free of your fist. "Take this," you order, shoving the hills into his chest. More spill free but the ducks to collect them as you pull up the feed on the laptop behind the counter. "Retired truckers don't know much about security," you impart wisely.

"That so?" he drawls, voice rich with a humor you don't quite understand.

"Yeah, word to the wise - always have a live feed backed up to a separate, private location." to illustrate the importance of this, you cut the feed and then proceed to delete all evidence of the night's recording. It won't stop Roy, the owner, from knowing who's shift if was but it would keep John safe from all but that other driver who apparently already knew enough to keep his head down any way.

When you peel yourself away from the screen, John's eyeing you with a sort of appreciation that makes your tummy flip, a low simmer of excitement building just there, just where you feel him most when he's inside you. Infecting. Spreading. "Clever doll, you are," he praises as you step back around the counter. He hands you your loot back, now properly shuffled into a neat stack. "I'll have to remember that. Now go on out to your car and get what you need. I'll just be a minute, he says, nodding to a display of beef jerky like there's nothing of more value to him in the whole store.

It seems to take him forever deciding, but when he comes back the other trucker still hasn't left.

[aquanutart]

I was talking and I mentioned that I have my old Game Boy and original Pokemon cartridge. I said, "I think they still work."

I was told, "The internal batteries on the Game Boy cartridges have run out. They're all dead."

"Oh," I said, trying not to show how crestfallen I was. I felt like I was losing nerd cred for not knowing that, although I never kept up with that type of info anyway. I'm here for the fantasy and imaginative aspects of games, and tend not to follow the competitive or technical details.

I tried not to feel anything as I went home. If they were real animals, I reminded myself, I would have had to say goodbye long ago.

But like so many other people, Pokemon was my childhood. It was all I thought about and dreamed about, and the closest thing I could imagine to heartbreak was the knowledge that they weren't real. I spent nearly all my time writing longhand self-insert Pokemon fanfiction--far more than I spent actually playing the game. My Pokemon were with me in my imagination wherever I went. I started playing Pokemon Blue when I was 5, and the last time I had played it was probably when I was 9 or 10. I remembered I had turned it on again one more time after that, not to play it, but to look at my childhood Pokemon.

It was during high school, after a move overseas that completely upended my life, and I was struggling with the crushing blow of being taken away from everything I knew and trying to make sense of anything (least of all adolescence) in another language. All I wanted was to go back to childhood and have everything go back to how it was before.

Seeing my Pokemon, just as I'd left them, had comforted me. I had looked at their stats pages, taken photos of them with my digital camera (that I don't even know if I still have), and then turned it off without doing anything.

That was probably 9 or 10 years after the games came out. It had been a long time since then. I had long since taken the AA batteries out of my Game Boy Color and left it untouched. I didn't even have AA batteries anymore.

It had worked then. But now it had been 27 years... I thought about not trying to turn my cartridge back on. As long as I didn't turn it on, I could believe my Pokemon were still there, the way I remembered them.

On my day off, which happened to be Pokemon Day, I googled and read that some people on forums and Reddit were still able to play their original Pokemon games.

Then... it was possible. I went out to buy toothpaste. At the store, I asked where I could find AA batteries.

It was a big thing for me to be able to go to the store and buy things myself. When I moved at age 13, I felt like something went wrong with growing up. It was difficult to follow what people were saying, and people didn't always understand what I said either. I had been introverted even in English, but now I had enough negative experiences that I became afraid and stopped trying to talk to people altogether.

I threw myself into video games and reliving childhood memories. The internet was where I could communicate in my first language and understand. I lived online and didn't interact with the real world. On the internet I felt like I was understood and could find people who shared my interests the way I did, but in the real world it always felt like I could get hurt if anyone knew me.

I realize now that I could have had a better experience overseas if I'd known how to adapt and socialize, but this was not something I knew even in English, and trying to learn in another language made it ten times harder. I'm sorry now for missing out on interactions that I know I could have had, but I just didn't know how. I wouldn't know how until I learned, and it took me a long time to learn.

I grew up online, in the company of others who had trouble fitting in with the real world, even in their own language. Those experiences shaped me, and the friendships I've made and support I've received online are invaluable to me. The internet gave me a way to live, and through it I learned how to interact with others. But in many ways, for many years, it felt like my life was put on hold and I stopped growing up.

Several years ago I moved back, to not far from where I was born, and I was able to work for the first time. I began to interact with people and feel like I had a place in the real world.

After shutting myself away for so many years, every little step I made out in the world felt terrifying. But every little thing I did on my own made me feel like I was living for the first time.

Even something as little as going to the store and buying a pack of batteries.

I was directed to a shelf at the end of an aisle, and found myself looking at a rack of lithium AA batteries. Did they not sell the old kind anymore?

I walked around to the other side and was relieved to find the familiar black and brown Duracell batteries I'd known from my childhood. I felt more confident about putting in a battery that looked the same as I remembered. The smallest pack they sold was an 8-pack for $12.99. I really didn't need 8 batteries. I didn't have any other devices that used them.

I thought, what if I turn it on and it doesn't work and I'll have wasted $12.99?

I also thought we might already have batteries. I might be able to say, "Mom, do we have any batteries?" and she'd pull out two AAs from a drawer somewhere and I'd save my money.

But somehow I felt like part of what was important about this was being an adult and being able to buy my own batteries.

Yet... what if it just ended up making me sad? Was it better not to know?

I went to the checkout with just the toothpaste and stood hesitating at the edge of the checkout line.

If I didn't get the batteries now, and it turned out we didn't have any batteries, I wouldn't try it. I knew I would just put it off until even more time passed, and then... "Are you in line?" someone asked me.

"No," I said, and I turned around and went back to the shelf.

I bought the batteries.

At home, I took out my original Game Boy Color from the drawer where I left it, the one my dad had surprised me with when I was 5 years old and that I had brought overseas and back.

I put the batteries in and turned it on without a cartridge first to make sure the batteries were inserted correctly. The Game Boy logo scrolled across the screen and it made the familiar blinging Game Boy startup noise. I turned it off again, satisfied.

I took out my original Pokemon Blue cartridge, momentarily having to remember which way it went in, and slotted it in.

I turned it on, watched the whole Pokemon Blue intro out of nostalgia, and then pressed START.

My heart leaped for joy.

MY POKEMON!!!! MY POKEMON ARE ALIVE!!! 🥺🥺🥺

My original Pokemon, that were with me in 1998 when I was 5-6 years old, are still with me 27 years later. I want to cry!!! I love the old sprites, I'm SO happy to see them again 😭😭😭 the Pokemon look so little and cheerful at the same time, which I love 🥺🥺🥺 I know there are people with many more hours on their games, who have leveled all their Pokemon to 100. But these are my Pokemon who were with me through my childhood, and I spent many more hours making up stories about them than actually playing the game. I'm so happy to see them again 😭😭😭

All I want is to see my Pokemon. My other Pokemon are in boxes. Now, how do I get to the nearest PC? Where am I?

Oh... Oh. I have to confess something. When I was a kid, I was scared of the dark cave areas, and whenever I got to them, I stopped playing for a while. (I was stuck at Mt. Moon until I was like, 7.) So I never actually beat the game.

And here I am on Victory Road, with the team of Pokemon I was taking to the Elite Four, without an Escape Rope.

The only way for me to see my other Pokemon is... to finally make it through Victory Road, after 27 years?!

[smoochsweetheart]

First of all, love your profile theme, it looks so well put together and cute!! And I do appreciate how thorough your introduction and what you are willing to write. Happy to have you in the fandom space!

For my request, if it’s all good, would you be able to do a Shadow and chronically ill (Y/n)? Such as if they’re having a day with a bad flare up and he tries to take care of them in his own Shadow way lmao. I trust you to take as much creative liberty as you would like, and I always do appreciate lengthy stuff so yap as much as you want! :)

Warning: I'm not familiar with chronic illness symptoms so I used Google and it said: chronic illness symptoms can include excessive fatigue, pain, difficulty with movements, and emotional or mood disorders. I'm not sure if this is accurate but it's all I have so be prepared for inaccuracy! Can be read as any gender and/or any relationship status

Sum. Shadow with a chronically ill reader

Notes: I think I love you ?? Tysm for the kind words!! I'm glad you like my theme I was worrying it wasn't good cuz I did it all in one day (yesterday) around 4 am - 1 pm loll and now I've been awake since heh I'm glad people are this welcoming<33

When shadow first found out about your chronic illness, he didn't think much of it. He thought it would he better to not be friends with you, thinking he'd get attached and have to suffer from your loss once again. He couldn't resist though, your charm, behavior, it was like a magnet for anyone to be attracted to. Slowly, shadow started hanging out with you; helping you walk when you had trouble with it, he knew he could get attached.

♡ When you woke up with extreme pain, Shadow knew something was up, he just didn't know what. After you explained what was happening, he tried to be as understanding as possible, even though he didn't say anything. For the whole day (or even days if it persists) Shadow doesn't let you out of bed, making you food and taking care of you was something he'd do all the time but imagine now he's an overprotective mother with a sick child.

♡ Essentially, Shadow becomes a caretaker, he doesn't want you to feel pain or lose you too, he knows he won't be able to stop every little bad thing you have, but he still wants to make you feel good! (Take that as u will) Shadow sees it fit to take care of a loved one when they're sick and you're no exception. Shadow always felt scared and fear when meeting new people; what if he gets attached and they leave him? What if—does he even get attached?— he has to watch you die? It all felt like too much, but he wouldn't dare leave you. You mean too much for him

♡ Shadow isn't by any means bad at taking care of people, even with his brooding and stubborn nature he can be a really good friend! His feelings will always be decided but he won't stop caring for you, either way, Shadow can take really good care of the people he loves, if you don't love communication and think actions speak louder than words then this is your guy! Shadow loves it when he can actually help people that care for him/he cares for, it brings him a sense of joy knowing he's taking care of a loved one. And that's all that matters to him, it doesn't matter if you're physically sick, he'll always be there for you

[infiniteeight8]

Ironstrange: soulmarks show potential/compatible soulmates and change (appear, fade, etc). Tony has one that has never changed, no matter how often he interacts with Strange. How does Stephen win him over?

I ended up doing a fair bit of mental world building to get this to work in my brain. I hope the result is interesting!

-

“Tony,” Stephen says, approaching him after an Avengers meeting has wrapped up. “Could we speak in private?”

Tony has been dreading this day ever since he spotted the mosaic decorating Stephen’s chest and realized that the design filling one of the hexes matched one of the pie slices in the circle Tony bears on his shoulder. But there’s no avoiding it, not really. “Yeah, alright,” he says, and Stephen’s brow wrinkles at the reluctant note that Tony doesn’t even try to suppress. Might as well start lowering his expectations now.

Tony leads them into a spare conference room. No point in making this too personal. Hitching one hip up on the table, he waits for Stephen to close the door behind himself and then waves for him to go on.

“We have soulmate potential,” Stephen says carefully.

“I’m aware.”

Stephen is quiet for a moment. “I take it you’re not interested in pursuing that.”

Well, this is already going better than expected. “I’m not,” Tony confirms. 

“May I ask why?”

“Sure,” Tony offers lightly and waits. 

Impressively, Stephen doesn’t seem frustrated or impatient despite being forced to ask the question again: “Why are you not interested in pursuing a potential soulmate?”

“Because I’ve been down this road before,” Tony says bluntly. “Three times, actually. Potential soulmates who come to me full of pretty promises about what our future could look like if only I’d let them in, give them a chance, open up. They push and they push and they push because they’re so sure we’re going to be perfect together, and when the mark never activates they get angry and resentful and blame me for not trying hard enough. I should have learned from the first two, but the third… The third was Pepper. At least I managed to salvage a friendship out of that one. 

“In my experience,” Tony went on, “soulmate potential doesn’t improve relationships, it ruins them. I’m not interested in going through that again.”

Stephen is quiet for a long minute. Tony waits for the argument for how Stephen is different. Maybe he’ll claim the silver mark—a platonic soulmate—on his chest means he knows how this works. Maybe he’ll argue that they have more in common, both being heroes. Maybe he thinks magic gives him extra  insight into the whole soulmate concept. 

“I understand,” Stephen says eventually. “I hope we can be friends, eventually, but I imagine you’ll want some distance first.”

He turns and opens the conference room door, and it’s then, when Tony is still staring after him in disbelief, that Tony feels the flare of heat in his shoulder.

Stephen stops, but doesn’t turn back. Tony yanks his shirt off and cranes his neck to peer at his shoulder. “Well, look at that,” he says, bemused. Stephen’s pie slice shines gold. “Apparently all I needed was for someone to respect my choice.” He looks up to find Stephen still in the doorway, shoulders tense. “Get back here, Stephen.”

Stephen closes the door and hesitantly comes back to stand before Tony. “You’re sure?” His eyes go to Tony’s shoulder and the golden mark.

“I’ve never had an activated mark before,” Tony says. “The variables have changed.” Stephen arches an eyebrow and Tony rolls his eyes. “That’s a yes. I’m sure.”

Stephen smiles. “Good.”

[callmrmorrow]

to make up for my last post, here’s what i think the invincible characters would do as content creators

mark grayson/invincible: comic book channel who analyzes and breaks down different in-world comics, particularly seance dog. very critical. has those really dumb cheesy thumbnails of his jaw hanging while he points at the new issue in blatant shock. is on youtube. think star wars theory but with less alt-right pipeline bs. has a somewhat decent following

nolan grayson/omniman: this motherfucker hates social media and thinks it is one of the most moronic things to come out of humanity. has a twitter account to post about his books, only follows his wife and son (maybe his publisher) but doesn’t like mark’s tweets bc they’re mostly complaining, flaming, or talking about comic books (average male teen activities)

debbie grayson: house hunters for superheroes, or maybe closer to selling sunset with the entire company? could sell you a house with two murder victims on the floor ten feet away from you. if it’s something like selling sunset, she’s definitely the most popular with the fans because she’s super humble, competent, and shockingly compassionate on the camera. has a couple superfans who are largely middle-aged men and the occasional teenage girl (she has to manually block them on nolan’s phone; i imagine he’s not insecure but maybe a bit possessive)

amber bennett: probably runs a tiktok account on social justice topics. might have a tumblr or some other online blog where she breaks down current events and shares petitions for world betterment. anything but performative, frequently starts or attends protests for various causes. insanely well-spoken, lots of posts about her work at the soup kitchen, and you just know she donates money to everyone who pops up on her feed. such a good person it almost makes you feel like you’re not doing enough (and that’s lowkey the point).

eve wilkins/atom eve: science tutoring on youtube. faceless, think like khan academy, but has voiceovers. covers simple to super advanced stuff in a very understandable format that made her super popular. its some shit like “atomswitheve,” and it’s wildly popular but she literally never talks about it #humblequeen. while she and rex were dating, she let him edit a video and came back to like six explosions superimposed over chemical formulas.

the immortal: fucking history channel but it’s all about things he’s actually experienced, but nobody fucking believes him. voiceovers a slideshow of images. incredibly boring, comments are full of people saying “source” and he replies “I was there.” but again… no one believes him. a couple college professors cite his videos for historical inaccuracy — and they are inaccurate because immortal has an ego, but his content is actually closer than other firsthand accounts because he survived most of the stuff (and remembers it well).

oliver grayson: debbie screens his online time so he doesn’t go all ultron (we all know this motherfucker has little care for human life). mostly posts skating stuff or gaming clips that aren’t particularly good. does not get much traction but mark is always in his comments hyping him up, but he’s always wrong about what tricks oliver performs; it’s become a habit for oliver to march up to mark and say “this was actually a nollie inward heelflip you MORON”

rex splode: runs his own fan account that has like 7 posts of the druski dance with himself and captions like “yes i’m rex splode, yes i’m the best guardian, yes i bagged atom eve, yes i can defeat omni man, did i mention i can defeat omni man?” relatively popular. does tiktok live reactions of WWE fights — since he’s not wearing his costume, no one knows who he is — or anything else that his viewers submit. got cancelled twice but nobody seems to care, least of all him.

shrinking rae: runs a youtube account that is like… emulating one of those “day in the life of a [insert occupation] student” videos where she just kind of pretends to be normal. also makes cooking videos, videos about cleaning her apartment, self-care tips and tricks for young women (can’t imagine she got a lot of advice from her gung-ho superhero parents), and study habits for struggling college students. she kind of pretends to be who she wants to be irl.

kate cha: lowkey a music producer, since all her clones just play different instruments or harmonize with each other. she doesn’t get a lot of chances to do it with her hero work, but releases nothing but bangers when she can. featured rex yelling at her for cheating on him as an intro for one of her songs (like that one guy on tiktok) and it blew up. has a lot of songs about death, which most think is odd (important to remember she’s died a lot).

cecil stedman: does NOT post on social media and i can’t think of a world where he would. but if he did, it’s probably just a fake bot account that reposts pro-government propaganda. “more funding for the GDA” “cecil was right” “lets double the US defense budget” he’s the kind of guy to like everything on his fyp just to throw off the algorithm.

i do have more but this post is getting too long for most people’s (including me) low attention spans. will do a part 2 with requested characters if this is well-received

[pickleslikesducks]

excerpt from my first published fic

again, really just trying to get my content out there😅

this fic did SO well on ao3, like wayyy better than I ever could have imagined. I'm honestly really proud of it haha

Damian’s POV    "It has been a while since I last saw you. Older Kent said your birthday has passed. You are... fourteen now?"    Jon tilted his head slightly. It vaguely reminded Damian of Titus when he was a puppy. "Uh. Yeah. I am." Damian suddenly remembered that birthdays were somewhat of an important event in people’s lives. He often forgot, considering he rarely even remembered his own birthday, and he never had celebrations as a child.    "How... was your birthday? Did you, ah, get good gifts?" That’s a normal thing to ask, right? Father said Damian was improving in his social skills, but he still got weird looks sometimes at his formal grammar and inadvertently rude behavior.    Jon smiled. That was good. "Yeah, I did!" Jon talked about all the presents he got, and the two of them chatted for hours longer than either intended.    Damian felt oddly content sitting next to Jon. He had a small sense of… admiration? attraction? for Jon. He had described this feeling to Drake once, and Tim had theorized that, since Damian was callous-unemotional, the contentment and the sense of feeling drawn to Jon was probably his body’s way of expressing romantic attraction. Damian was thankful it was dark; he could feel his face heat up slightly at the thought of having romantic feelings towards Jon. He mentally shook his head and decided to just sit and enjoy the quiet peace. 

A/N --- For reference, since Damian typically calls everyone by their last names, Jon is "Kent", Konner is "Older Kent", and Clark is "Old Kent". Ma and Pa have bribed Damian with farm animals and convinced him to call them Ma and Pa (Though he typically calls them "Ma Kent" and "Pa Kent". He's too formal for this world). Super random, but I decided to make Damian slightly callous-unemotional (often called child psychopathy). It's really mild for him, bc I didn't want to make him an actual psychopath, but it still mutes his emotions. He doesn't really feel joy, more like contentment, and he doesn't feel pain really, he just knows when he should* feel pain and plays it off as though he is hurt. He gets frustrated sometimes, but never actually that angry. He was just raised to be a violent kid, so he often lashes out bc of that mentality growing up, but he's not actually an angry person.

[ranwan-love]

Messages from "SHUNYA"

Aka lord shiva.

Hi dear kind people who came across this post of mine. I hope you all are enjoying pink of your life. I originally made this for Maha Shivaratri but due to some reason it stayed only in my drafts. Later on some good things happened 🥹, synchronicities too so I was called out to post this anyway even after festival is gone.

So you can take this reading as messages from lord shiva, divine father, universe or void as it's all same for me and i did reading from same energy.

I hope you endless growth and love, now close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose your pile!!

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Pile One

Cards: Queen of wands, six of wands, The empress

Hi dear Pile One. Welcome to your reading. Your energy is really passionate so let's dive in your reading. So first of all i saw top of mountain while channeling. Okay so according to messages I got I want to first acknowledge that you are a queen. You are already way ahead than you think. There are chances you already know that. But might be confused to change in your power, path. It seems like you are kinda curious about it because it seems unexpected. This is rather small change in your energy or surroundings which would definitely ignite a strong fire for you to discover more. Other than this everything seems fine in your element, growth, magnetism, sensual and knowing what you want. But this small change is taking you to a movement. Movement towards something better. It seems like a journey which is full of compassion, progress. It might be due to some Collab or actual travel with your people. You are being a empress from queen. Funny how cards came out which are related to spring and summer and this reading will be up during spring only. So there are chances it will start during spring and upcoming summer months. You know what I am getting so much attracted to queen card over empress and keep thinking if this queen will be empress how blessed people and her community will be. So you just don't have potential to be an empress but one of best empress.

This small change could be change in some sort of passion of yours or thought. I don't feel it's something that huge that will affect your 3D rather than your 4D which would put you in alignment to recieve more. I think you have plans to do something for people too. So just do it. You will be helped in it because it's a fated event.

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Pile Two

Cards: Seven of cups, Seven of swords, Ace of cups

Okay Pile two, along with Lord Shiva I guess your guides are present here too. What are you doing these days? Because I feel you are just daydreaming. Like I personally think day dreamers have great imagination and ability to visualise, they can probably manifest easily as well. But problem here is that you are not using your this ability for any good. You are decieting your own potential and probably betraying your younger self as well. It's like you can't even face yourself. If you have good potential but why are you wasting it so much. There's so much going on here at mental level, too much fantasy and material. It's like even if you keep daydreaming about good stuff it's not manifesting in 3D because first there's too much chaos, second your thoughts and emotions don't align. It's like you have good imagination, strong emotions but probably negative thoughts. I will say it clear that sit with yourself or you will accidentally manifest something you don't want or increase the thing which you are escaping from. You are being suggested here to ground yourself like meditate, walk on earth barefeet. Than journal, journal all you want, like first journal out emotions or excessive thoughts you are having or the ones making you restless. Then note down things you probably desire things you can do on your behalf, what needs to let go, what's taking your energy. It's like almost energy of"write till you can't". Because this reading should have been small but i keep auto writting out of control. So write till your head calms down and you ground. Like taking needed actions and working on the messages is taking you to energy of unconditional love and everlasting compassion aka Ace of cups. It will manifest both inside you and your outside world. You might also develope something in 3D which will keep giving you long term abundance.

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Pile Three

Cards: Queen of wands, Ace of pentacles, king of wands

Wassup my sexy Pile Three. First thing I channeled here was union. It can be union of yin yang inside you, or some kind of actual union with a partner or mate. If it includes other person just know that this person is exactly same as you. I don't know how to give words to it but you see you have to be equal when you are going through divine union. There's possibility this can be someone who will give you a collab or work related offer. It can be creative in nature. So if it's your own energies coming in union just know that you are manifesting something big. Almost a whole new path of abundance especially financial abundance. This time will make you pretty busy but focused with you work. Whatever will be created as a result of union the world is going to look upto it because it seems kinda big. To be honest it doesn't even seem in distant future or a long journey rather a walk to stage where you are being rewarded for what you have already done. This could possibly be result of co-creating with universe. It's like you did your work and let go. Universe did it work and here it's coming to finalizing. This is such a beautiful energy of abundance. It almost feels like you are manifesting here and there. Congratulations pile Three Good for you. It's a well deserved prize.

Okay did anyone came here from pile Two. I want to say if you feel like you are not in this energy now trust me you are doing alot of things you don't realise. If not now this energy is there for you in upcoming two-three months.

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I hope your chosen piles resonated with you. Please take actions on your guidance as well.

Do let me know how much of my reading resonated with you all. It will mean alot.

Genuine gratitude from depth of my heart🤎✨