#adult: *gives actual much needed advice*

[luna-the-cretar]

I think my cousin and his girlfriend think that literally all the adults in my family are being mean by telling them that, no, the gf can’t go to their ROTC competition (they’re both part of ROTC), or to school at all, because she is already having contractions, and the baby will be coming literally any time now. Last thing they want is the gf to start going into labor at school or during said competition.

And like, obviously they’re just teenagers and don’t know shit about babies and everything, but also. From the sounds of it, it almost sounds like all the adults have been trying to tell them the basics of keeping a literal human baby alive, and idk about the gf, but it sounds like my cousin is just. Not listening. Which is typical for my cousin, but also extremely concerning since we’re talking about an actual real human baby, who will be arriving in a matter of days.

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i need people to start paying me for every time they tell me "oh but ur arts so good ur wasting ur talent u need to do it professionally" wrong i need to do art to draw beautiful characters that not a single other person cares about while feeding every ounce of love i have into my work or to convey thoughts & feelings beyond words and to even think of doing otherwise is to deny my own nature "oh but u can do what u want and then sell it" why is everything about money to you why cant u just enjoy things at what point in ur life did u forget how to have fun

[helpimstuckinafandom]

Davina Claire is allowed to commit mass murder if she ever so desires. As a treat.

[lambilegs]

getting acquainted with the dildo: attempt #1

contains: sevika teaching reader how to suck the strap, dry humping (reader doing it on sev's thigh), friends with (resolved, thank god) tension, slight humiliation kink, a bit of a spit kink, teasing, inexperienced reader, implied age gap (both reader and sevika are adults), sevika calls reader "kiddo" teasingly, reader's body is referred to w/ the following terms: "pussy," "clit," "cunt"

when you tell sevika that you've never used a strap-on before, you nearly beg some higher force to let the ground swallow you whole. you two have been friends forever, but lately, it's undeniable that some sort of molten desire has been pooling at the center of what you have. maybe it was always there, and had just been in denial. but, it's undeniably present now, impossible to ignore, thick and heavy in the air, lining every interaction with a sort of hot lava.

and it's made confessions like this, ones filled with sexual secrecy and exposed desires, carry a lot more weight than they did prior. you're pretty much confiding in a woman who you're aching to have sex with about just how much experience she should and shouldn't expect of you. it's way more vulnerable, and it feels like you're spoiling her prematurely by peeling away sexual secrets that in a different circumstance, one with just regular dating, she would've discovered on her own in the context of wanting to have sex with you. but, doing it in a friendship, when you don't even know for sure what she feels, is more uncertain. it's farther away from the line of actual romance and desire, and therefore feels risker to admit. because if your inexperience deters her, maybe she'll easily dismiss and rid herself of any attraction she might've once harboured for you, since it'd be simpler to as just friends.

so, to say the least, you're scared when confessing this secret to her.

at least, that's until you see the way her lip curls up when, while laying on her couch, you confess that you're nervous about one day using the strap due to never having done it before. she seems equal parts intrigued and amused by the revelation. from where she sits, picking at one of the screws in her arm, she asks, tone low, steady, "well, do you feel ready?"

"I don't know." you stare up at the ceiling, for the thought of maintaining eye contact through this conversation is a bit too unnerving for your liking. "I mean, I'm sure everyone feels... not ready when they start using it, right?"

she shrugs. "maybe. to a degree. but, you don't need to push yourself if it really scares you." her voice has turned tentative, face absent of the initial mischief. with the way she angles herself away from you, it seems that she's somewhat uncomfortable with giving such earnest advice.

"thanks for the sex-ed," you laugh, trying to ease the mood some.

"well, considering I've actually worn the strap and you've barely touched it, you could use all the advice you can get."

you try not to visibly tense up at the casually tossed comment. you knew sevika has used a strap, of course you did. you've been at her apartment enough times to catch sight of her lube or dildos (because, yes she has several) scattered about. but, god, the idea of it taut on her pelvis, ready to be used to pump into you, has your thighs tightening.

"well, then, oh-wise-one, what would be your advice?"

she shrugs, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds before saying, "getting acquainted with it. with things like sucking, touching, you know."

"sucking?"

"yeah." the corner of her lip quirks up as she raises an eyebrow at you. "never done that either?"

you feel your face warm, feeling awfully pathetic under her pointed gaze, years of experience behind it. "no." you groan, swiping a hand across your face. "god, I'm gonna be so horrible at it when I first do it."

"then, practice."

you scoff. "with who?"

"by yourself?" she drawls, casting you an incredulous look as though she aims for you to question your own stupidity.

you huff, turning away. "I can't do it on my own, how will I know if I'm even doing it right?"

"then, I don't know," she sighs exasperatedly, lighting her cigar. "someone you trust, I guess. someone who wants their dick wet."

"the only person I know who wants to get their dick wet is you," you snap, a petulant part of you hoping you can embarrass her as much as she does with you.

her lips wrap around the tip of the cigar, that scar on the bottom one seeming to deepen. it's almost entrancing, hooking your eyes in and leaving you resistant to its power.

you only snap out of the spell when she says, "is that your way of asking for it to be me?"

the words have your lips parting before you can force them shut. what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you're well-aware of the tension that's been there between you two, of course you are. but, you never imagined that sevika would actually initiate anything. sure, she's flirted here and there, and you're convinced she's started purposely mentioning stopping at babette's for the sole purpose of making you jealous (after all, she always has such a shit-eating grin whenever you fidget or glare at her in response). but, still, it's never amounted to an actual offer, an actual step over the threshold between friendship and, well, something else.

you know it's the more responsible decision to say no, and shut this down before things get complicated. or at least until you clear up whatever it is you guys consider yourselves to be in relation to each other, and if it's something that carries as much emotion to her as it does to you.

but, part of you wants to give into the throb between your legs, the thick tension crackling in the air, the way her gaze is resting on you calmly, as though debating whether or not she should pounce. and god, you want her to, itching with curiosity as to what she'd say if you teased back.

and so, you do. "why, are you offering?"

you get a world of satisfaction from the way she coughs at the question, puffs of smoke blowing from her mouth as she roughly clears her throat. beneath it all, though, is a very apparent underbelly of nerves in your stomach, tingling in anticipation for her answer.

when she finally sets the stupid thing down, giving her lungs a well-deserved break, she says, "why, do you want me to?"

you grit your teeth, a spark of irritation set aflame from this back-and-forth. you wish she could treat you with the courage she does anyone else, just answering your question then sweeping you off your feet with no action required of you. but, no, she just has to be cautious, and hesitant, and sweet. today, of all times.

you sigh. you suppose it's on you to end this game. your chest is tight with anxiety, the words about to roll off your tongue heavy and filled with consequence. but, you push through, anyways. if you remain vague, she will too. if you say no, you may lose your chance with her for god knows how long. so, the only option is: "fine, yes."

immediately, regret weighs upon you, sinking down into your guts. you shift, eyes pointed down to your knees, trying not to panic, when a small huff meets your ears.

it's sevika. sevika chuckling.

your eyes tentatively raise up to her, nails digging into the plush of the cushioned seat you're on. her small, endearing gap flashes as she shakes her head slowly, her laughter sounding split between amused and incredulous, bordering on a scoff.

you feel nearly glued to your spot when her eyes finally rest upon you, the grey shine in them wrapping around you and pulling, pulling and pulling.

she leans back in her couch, spreading her legs out. "well, then, hop on, kiddo."

and that's how you wind up on her thigh, her arm wrapped around your torso as you fist at the fabric taut over her broad shoulders. her mechanic hand squeezes into the silicone balls of a dildo, eyes stuck on your lips as she traces the tip over them. your breaths are heaving with anticipation as she strokes the head along the inside plush of your lips, getting the bulb of it wet and slick with your spit. the experience is exhilarating, for you know she's capable of going harder than this, of fucking your throat raw. but, no, she wants to take her time with you, draw out every drop and dribble of pleasure for the both of you.

"who knew you had it in you?" she muses with a raspy laugh.

before you can even speak to protest, she slides the entire head in, capturing your voice and transforming it into a broken, wanton moan of surprise. her eyes practically gleam at that, and she slides the dildo out of your mouth's confines with a pop before sliding the tip back in. your lips latch on automatically, hugging around the head and letting it roll around the flat of your tongue. despite the sheer anxiety of having sevika's attentive eyes on you, the motions of her push-and-pull into your mouth is almost -- well, relaxing? the repetitiveness of it, the way it gives you something to direct all your five senses to as it lolls about in your mouth, your lips tightening and loosening -- it makes your brain feel softened, hazy, lost in this.

"ah, look at that," she coos, her tone hushed and sharpened with an edge of mockery. "sucking on that like that's all you're good for."

the playful degradation makes your clit fucking throb, and without meaning to, your hips automatically jerk forward, the firmness of her thigh making your eyes nearly roll back.

"oh, someone liked that," sevika mutters.

her thigh suddenly bucks up, sending you bouncing on her lap and nearly toppling over if not for her muscular arm steadying you. the pressure against your pussy makes you whine around the toy, your lips stretching open to release the noise only has her pushing it in deeper, nearly a quarter of it now sliding up and against your tongue.

"suck it in and out, just like that," she whispers, her eyes burning into your skin as she intently watches you. you try to follow her directions, but your sucks are too eager, too fast, and sevika reaches her hand up and gently grabs your jaw, coaxing it into fluid motions that has the dildo being softly pressed and released by your lips' grip, over and over and over again.

you know this is a horrible idea, a fact that only becomes more punctuated with every thrust of the toy into your mouth. you know you should've had some more self-control, and should've put a stop to this inane idea before it had manifested into a reality. but, no, you just had to think with your pussy, and now look where it's landed you? on your friend's, a good, loyal, helpful friend's, lap, practically rutting like you're in heat and sucking dick with zero technique.

"when that gets a bit too repetitive, you can lick it." she abruptly yanks the dildo from your mouth, and an embarrassing wad of spit stretches out with it, spilling thickly down your chin. your face is practically burning from the heat of humiliation, but sevika doesn't seem to mind, only smirking and saying, "now, I was gonna tell you you can get messy with it, but you're a step ahead."

now that your mouth is finally freed, at least you get to spit out, "you're such a dick," as though your pussy isn't practically leaking with arousal.

"oh, so you suck off any asshole, then?"

"maybe I will once you're done with this lesson," you haughtily snap back.

her eyes narrow at that, but she says nothing to it, smacking the tip lightly against your mouth. "open."

despite your snapping, and much to your annoyance, your mouth immediately goes slack, falling open for her.

"tongue out, now."

you obey, sticking it out.

she snorts, shifting in her seat as she raises the dick to you. "such a little sub."

you roll your eyes at her words, jerking when she grabs your jaw, forcing you to face her. "keep those eyes on me."

your pussy clenches down on nothing. god, you need her. not that you'd ever admit it -- the last thing she needs is another ego stroke.

"show me how you'd lick this."

giving you so much control causes your confidence, however little you had of it, to waver. you hesitate before tentatively stroking the flat of your tongue along the head, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. a tiny burst of pride ripples through you when you see her eyes widen imperceptibly. it's barely there, but you know her well enough to know it wouldn't have happened unless, at the very least, a small part of her was surprised, or maybe even impressed.

the reaction eggs you on, and you do it again, running your tongue along the entire length of the dildo, using the tip to trace along the bulging veins. when that's done, you lap at the head, the flat of your tongue quickly moving along it in steady movements.

when sevika speaks, her jaw is clenched, and the deep breath she takes shudders. "good."

"yeah?" the clear effect you're having on her is most definitely getting to your head, and it makes you desirous to push and prod at her more. "am I being good?" you end the question with a kiss right to the tip.

almost as though sevika is tethered to the toy, she swallows hard at the sight. "yeah," she says, her voice firm. "you're doing good."

the praise has your hips bucking again, and you internally curse at the leverage you've so clearly given her, another wicked smile curling at her lips.

her thigh resumes its actions from before, pumping up to meet your clothed core as her arm grips your waist tightly, keeping you anchored as she encourages you to rub yourself on her. your body acts before your mind can catch up, hips pressing down so that your clit receives some friction through the layers of fabric. you hate to admit it, but sevika's muscled thigh is a perfect helper.

"you can flick your tongue on the tip, too," she says, her voice a lot rougher than it was a few minutes back. you derive some pleasure from it, for even if your resolve is loosening and waning in wake of her touch, at least hers seems to be too.

"how?" you ask, your voice an embarrassing pitch from the desperation accompanying the word. but, as soon as it slips from you, your mind conjures up a single image, and it drives you to ask, "can you show me?"

"you kidding me?"

"no." you bat your eyes, hoping it'll get her more susceptible.

"I'm gonna need a bit more convincing than some pretty eyes."

oh, well, never mind. you deflate physically, though something tickles your stomach at knowing she finds your eyes pretty.

"oh, c'mon, please, sevi," you say, tugging on her arm with a jutted bottom lip.

after a few moments of casting you a deadpan stare, she sighs, tentatively turning the dildo around and raising the head to her mouth. voice warm, so velvety, she murmurs, "like this."

you hold your breath as the tip of her tongue pokes out, flicking along the head of the toy, flapping over it fast and hard. she may not realize it, but she's giving you a crystal clear shot of exactly how she'd look devouring your clit. you pocket the mental image, already knowing you'll pull it out the next time you get off.

when you follow suit, lapping at the tip, your tongue's point making little zig-zag wags, sevika's hand tightens on your hip, and with just one pull, you're back to riding her thigh. the pleasure coursing through your pussy, deep and aching from the pressure, is making you lost in sensation. your eyes flutter close as your hole clenches and your clit swells up, sevika's muscular thigh hard and lovely.

meanwhile, she's easing the toy into your throat, laughing when you gag all over it, spit gushing from your mouth. she's relentless in her practice, just coaxing you to move faster on her thigh as you struggle to accommodate the dildo, pathetic whines tumbling from your mouth everytime she pushes it in and your throat seizes with a choke. it leaves you more sloppy, more wet, more nasty than you were before, saliva trailing down your chin and getting your neck cool and sticky.

sevika's hand slides up your waist, just barely grazing the side of your breast on the way up, before brushing a thumb against the corner of your mouth, wiping away the residue. the touch seems wholly intimate compared to the ones that preceded, especially when she uses the digit to encourage your mouth to open and take the dildo in again. she seems to be more cautious of your limits now, easing it only halfway in. your eyes flutter shut, sucking nonsensically at it, losing yourself to the rhythm as you jut against her thigh faster.

sevika's eyebrows furrow in as you speed up, her breathing laboured, and you nearly giggle around the toy at the evident impact you're having on her. but, that's not all there is to it, for her expression only has a series of more hot, tempting mental images bursting through your mind. her panting like that when thrusting into you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration like that while she lavishes attention all over your soaked cunt.

the thought has you bouncing faster, and sevika growls. actually fucking growls. her hand abandons your face, opting to grip your ass tightly and drag you harder against her. your bud is practically weeping with desire now, desperate to have its wants sated as you grind down harder. the weight of the toy on your tongue, the way your mind is numbed from the bodily chaos of sucking, thrusting, clutching -- it sends you rolling close to your orgasm, just barely teetering on the edge of it.

what finally sends you hurdling past it is how sevika bites her lip when she pulls you forward again, her thigh pumping up and down to meet your thrusts. she looks so concentrated on you, her dark eyes hooded and intense, and the pure want on her face makes you feel so desired, so aroused at the idea of how many ways you can get that expression on her face again. that, paired with another aggressive press from her thigh, and a tight suck on the dildo, sends your body crashing with an orgasm, walls spasming as your thighs go taut. you writhe in her arm, nearly tipping all the way back if it weren't for her catching you and holding you close. your chest presses flush to hers as you tremble like a leaf, clit sopping and stinging in sensitivity as she continues pushing against it.

you whine in protest, slightly lifting your hips, and she immediately takes the hint, slowing her movements to a stop. all the while, you keep sucking on the dildo, the shape of it in your mouth, the way it offers you something to latch onto and ground yourself with, practically addictive.

sevika watches you carefully for a few moments before gently tugging it out, a string of saliva hooked between the head of it and your bottom lip.

you moan in surprise when shr leans in and runs her tongue along your chin, curling it right at your bottom lip, swallowing down the saliva all for herself.

"you're such a mess," she mumbles, sucking languidly at your chin.

"it's not my fault," you grunt, voice raspy from all the noises you made. now that the heat of the moment has worn off, the searing burn of embarrassment begins to imprint itself on you. god, you were so loud, so desperate, so--

"you looked good."

you lick your lips, some of the nerves calming. "yeah?"

"don't let it get to your head."

"that's true, I already had my fair share of head for today."

her eyebrow raises at you in a distinct lack of amusement. "you're lucky you're cute."

your stomach sizzles with oh-so-stupid butterflies. god, why does she have this much of an impact on you? and it's so effortless on her end too, which makes it all the more frustrating for you.

"you think I'm cute?" you ask, forcing your tone to sound teasing so she doesn't realize just how earnest you are.

when she falls silent for a few moments, you tense up, wondering if she can tell how serious you are.

"who's the one leaking through my favourite pants right now?"

or maybe not. face twisted into a cringe, you grip her shoulders to stumble into a standing position, her hand still loosely hanging by your waist. "on that note, I think I'll go wash up."

her fingers dig with a bit more pressure into your skin, and to your shock, she says, voice gruff, "not just yet. just sit for now."

you let her tug you back into her lap, your arms immediately winding around her neck. "what for?"

she shrugs. "just comfortable." her eyes finally lift to you, and it's like you could plummet to the ground with how swept over her steady gaze makes you feel.

"was it not you who just made made that stupid pants comme--"

"do I need to get the dildo again?"

you burst into laughter, eyes crinkling as you shake your head at her. "is that gonna be your go-to whenever I piss you off now?"

"amongst other possibilities." her fingertips ghost your waist, and you shiver.

other possibilities? you know it's not the smartest thing to dwell on -- after all, she might've just said casually with no serious intent. but, sill, your stomach warms from something you had been trying your best to avoid this entire interaction.

hope.

but, when she touches your waist like that, and seems to struggle to remove her hand from you as you walk away, you can't resist the little part of you of that whispers, maybe it's warranted.

but, you don't want to get ahead of yourself. so, you keep it at just a maybe.

[moonlightcycle571]

Beating out the Hero Worship. The weapon? Being a child therapist / relationship Councelor to your colleagues (who may or may not be going through midlife crisis)

So I love the prompts where the Wisdom of Solomon makes Captain Marvel a defacto Therapist and Relationship Councelor (family, romantic or otherwise) to his very adult coworkers. It’s especially funny when they think Billy is an adult. Billy is very much a child. A child who is giving these sad adults free therapy. Honestly if being a child hero wasn’t enough, the amount of work he has to put into his colleagues well-being should in itself be child labour.

Black Canary, who has been the Therapist, is the only one who can relate to the struggle. Sometimes they even share notes. Well, Billy is, Dinah is here for the gossip. Bring in Barbara, and they got themselves a girls night.

It’s just so funny to me. Gets me every time.

Flash: Man, I can’t believe I’ll need to reschedule my wedding anniversary AGAIN all because of some new villain not getting the memo. Sometimes being the hero on your city takes a lot of you.

Marvel: don’t you have multiple speedsters in your city?

Flash: …

Marvel: you have multiple heroes in your corner who would gladly take over a case for you

Flash: Oh yeeeeaaah

Marvel: Don’t pull a Batman. Ask for help.

Bruce, somewhere in Gotham: something just happened

*or just*

Clark: and it’s just confusing, because Conner sees my parents as his parents making us siblings, but John sees him as his brother making him my son, but Lex sees him as HIS son. Kon even said that Lex was more of a dad to him! Lex!

Marvel: oh yeah, family is difficult. Imagine having two dads, but the hero one is the one who want nothing to do with you. At least Lex tries. When was the last time you had a casual conversation.

Clark: I- *pauses*

Marvel: or talked about hobbies.

Clark: I messed up.

Marvel: yeah yuh did

Bonus:

Billy: Dinah! I didn’t think girls night was for another week!

Dinah: … actually

Billy: … no

Dinah, sitting on the couch: so I need advice

Billy: 🥲

A few moments later

Billy: I’m sorry, GA did WHAT to Roy

Dinah: Exactly, so come Mia-

Some more time later

Green Arrow: why do I hear boss music?

Marvel, slamming open the door: Oooolllieee we need to talk 🙃

Oliver: I’m in danger

[radmista]

The thought process the people like the second to last rb have is so pathetic imo. This is how you know someone explicitly only reads fanfiction online, especially with the comment about how there should be trigger/content warnings and saying what topics will be in there. First off, books have this, it's called the summary on the back. I know that poster probably meant something akin to AO3 tags like "|Charater Death|, |uncomfortable situations|, |parents not being perfect ideal parents and being flawed people|, |mean classmates|" type shit. Which is just ridiculous. The point of books like these are to grow your mind, to expand your world view and thinking, to expose you to as many different perspectives and points of view. To portray suffering, sadness, hardship, death, betrayal, etc in safe controlled environments. It's not child endangerment or abuse to make children sad reading a sad book. You cannot raise children in a bubble away from life's unpleasantness because you don't have a reading level beyond 5th grade and only want easily digestible material.

Children sometimes need to be exposed to content that they would not pursue on their own, nor would ever learn about without required reading. The level of anti-intellectualism being spouted here is unbelievable. This whole "protect kids from the harshness of the world" is why some kids never learn about the Hollocaust or the horrific things done to minorities in the USA. I never would have learned about the Japanese camps during WWII if I hadn't been required to read 'Farewell to Manzenar'. This was an incredibly sad book to read. It weighed on me, and it was depressing. It took me forever to finish reading it because I kept having to stop. But it made me think. It literally revealed to me a side of history I had no idea about in 6th grade and gave me the perspective of a Japanese-American girl growing up in a time rampant with hatred and racism against her family. When else would I have gotten that as young as I did. Required reading also helps prepare kids for what they may be learning later in the curriculum, which was actually why it was required reading at my school, our history classes touched on this later in the year.

I'm actually really surprised people are upset about Bridge to Terabithia. Yeah, one of the main characters dies. It's not like she is killed explicitly in the book with full descriptions or killed in a horrifically graphic and violent way. No, she died in a way that was a complete accident, "offscreen" so to speak, she fell and hit her head by the river and either that killed her or she drowned. (I can see how for some kids that may be more upsetting than something outlandish and graphic since it is such a regular everyday way to die.)

The boy in the book feels rage, guilt, grief, denial, and sorrow. He goes through all the emotions a reader would also go through if they were also particularly attached to Leslie. And that's part of the beauty of reading. That's also why this book is still recommended to kids or on their school reading lists: because it's on their level. It's target audience is 4th-5th grade readers, its not anything higher level than what a child that age can digest and understand. And when it delivers something emotionally painful, we are there with the boy and his emotions and with him learn a little about life and how it goes on.

Maybe I'm a stoic reader, but Leslie's death didn't wrack me with sadness. I was shocked, as I'm sure was the intention, that she died. We are delivered the news in the same way the boy is, after having a good day with his teacher and being blindsided with the death of his best friend. We are there with him in his surprise and confusion, his denial- that his parents are being cruel and lying to him. We're there with him when he runs to the river he and Leslie crossed over every day after school only to find the rope broken just like his parents said. The book quite literally does not leave kids high and dry without emotional follow through or resolution. Her death isn't the shocking twist ending that now a kid had to sit with like a stone in their stomach, forever wondering what happens. There are still chapters after she dies that you are with the boy as he tries to return to school and his normal life without her. As I recall, she dies 3/4 of the way into the book.

As I recall, he learns how to honor her memory and the things she and him created. He grows and adapts, and we, the readers, learn and grow with him. We see him form new relationships. We see the goodness in humanity as he deals with this tragedy early in his life. We leave him when he is able to go back to the place Leslie and he played, where he's built something new and treasured in memory of her. BtT leaves off on a hopeful note, I'd even say a cheerful one even if it's bittersweet. The book shows kids a life experience they hopefully won't have that young, but introduces them to tragedy and love and loss and how this boy dealt with it. Books allow us to see and live experiences we may never have, they allow us to expand our mind. These are critically important things for kids to do when their minds are still young. Books like these are how you can properly prepare your kids for life. Sheltering them from feeling sadness and negative emotions does not help them at all, and will just leave them stunted emotionally and intellectually.

[ozzgin]

Ahhh!!! I love monster streaming concept so much! If its not a problem for you can u share some hcs about it? Anything is fine to me tbh. Im really curious how their beloved monster watchers would react for y/n trying out different streaming videos (like gameplays etc idkkkk)

LizardKing5 would probably bully you every now and then. "You already died? Noob." He'll frequently suggest horror games, so he can tease you about being scared easily. He'll joke about your choices or gaming style. At the same time, he'll send you guides, buy you in-game items, and bark at anyone else who dares to critique your skills. Only he can do that.

User0385485: man, those are some piss poor skills LizardKing5: Shut your hole before I close it with my own fist, PUNK!!11 LizardKing5: Don't listen to this idiot, just focus on the tips I sent you yesterday.

SharkMan is completely clueless. He's not into gaming, as he considers himself way too old for that, but he supports you nonetheless. He'll watch all of your streams religiously and cheer on you, even when it makes no sense whatsoever. Additionally, he'll gift you ridiculously expensive and unnecessarily advanced computer parts and accessories. He doesn't know what you need, so he just buys whatever has the highest price for good measure.

SharkMan: Fantastic work, (Y/N). LizardKing5: What are you talking about, man? This dumbass scored last place every single round!!!

HornyMantis keeps suggesting adult games, or leaves out of pocket, deranged comments during your gameplays. He couldn't care less about what you're doing, as long as he can see your face (and boobs).

HornyMantis: wow nice shot HornyMantis: u know what would make this match even better HornyMantis: if u were shirtless

DefNotAStalker keeps to himself. He just quietly observes you play and never really comments. When you leave your desk, he sometimes updates the games for you, or changes some settings, or finishes a level you were struggling with. It leaves both you and your followers confused, wondering how you managed to skip over parts or beat a challenge you kept failing a moment ago.

Y/NSimp will support you in anything you want to do. He'll pretend he's knowledgeable about gaming, but in reality he's deplorably bad at it. Secretly jealous of SharkMan and LizardKing5 for hogging all the attention, either with gifts or with useful advice.

Y/NSimp: Heh...I actually beat this level in two minutes. Y/NSimp: I could give you some tips in private if you want, (Y/N). Not to brag, but I'm a bit of a pro haha Y/NSimp: Oh, I see you already ended the stream Y/NSimp: Hello??

[Monster Streaming] | [All Monster Series]

[blade-liger-4ever]

Why I think Miko Nakadai is arguably the best human character in TFP

Don't misunderstand, I know Miko was handled haphazardly throughout the series' run. That said, aside from her skipping off into the battlefield, she was actually a great character - and, in my personal opinion, the actual audience surrogate character in TFP.

Now, let me explain.

Although Miko's backstory is told and not shown - a rich daughter who had everything she could ever want, up to and including two pure-breed cats and piano lessons from age three onwards (which, coincidentally, tells us she's brainy despite her antics) - much can be inferred from what snippets of her past we get, along with her interactions with the Autobots. For one, she obviously can't stand most adult supervision, which is likely because of a few things. For one, back home in Japan, Miko would have had to be proper and polite, always restrained, and had to do what she was told. While this is normal (to an extent) in the West, in the East this is etiquette that needs to be obeyed, especially if you're as well off as she is; her actions, specifically in Japan, will reflect on her parents, but to a far lesser extent in America. Thus, when presented with the freedoms of the USA, Miko not only jumps at the chance for an exchange program that will give her the mobility she craves, she also chooses the place that has the least amount of glamor. By extension of choosing to settle in Jasper, Miko's also displaying two other traits: she's not afraid of going to a place vastly different from her home, and she isn't disgusted by a small town with very little monetary value to it.

Secondly, Miko's disregard for authority from adults but deference to the 'Bots teases us with an insecurity - namely, an insecurity that no adult ever gives her a chance to make her own decisions.

Just think about it: All the times Miko's blown off the human adults, it's when they've tried to decide her life for her. Miko has, from what we can see, had her whole life dictated, up to and including those piano lessons. She may be a prodigy at almost everything, but her preferred instrument is the guitar - and yet, she wasn't given lessons in that from the time she was a toddler. Therefore, she feels confined and controlled by the authority of her elders. And so, while Miko may be able to sway Bulkhead into getting her out of detention and consistently slip past the watchful eyes of the 'Bots, it's out of a desperate motivation to control her own life. Now, she does hold too much interest in the battles and getting to watch them, but wouldn't you have that same eagerness if Gundams or Jaegers came to life before your eyes? Yes, she knows their lives are in danger, that they couldn't come home, but there's still a fantastical element to all of this about the Autobots. And it remains so because while she loves them all, Bulkhead is the only one who, while giving her life advice and trying to keep her in check/alive, lets her make her own decisions and take control of her life and her actions.

And that's why she keeps going to the field. That's why she only listens to the reprimands with half an ear and why she recovers so fast from Optimus' near death experiences, as well as Raf's close call with death.

And that's why Miko's world shatters when Bulkhead is left in a half-dead coma from his fight with Hardshell. Because the one person in the universe who gave her freedom and care without deciding her life for her was not just seriously injured, but possibly on death's door.

That's why Miko runs around without a care until the S2 episode "Hurt": because she wants autonomy to decide her life, even if it's stupid choices that could get her killed.

And after "Hurt", we see a new Miko. Yes, she remains gung-ho and fierce, but she stops running onto the battlefield. She takes less enjoyment from the War. Because now, with the reality of war fresh in her mind, she knows the risks and the stakes involved, and she will never take that or her friends for granted anymore. This is further proved when Miko 'sneaks' along for "Chain of Command", but with a twist: she asks Wheeljack if she can come along - and if memory serves, this is the first mission Bulkhead's been on with herself present since the events before "Hurt". Clearly, Miko is still worried about losing Bulkhead - only, this time, she values the words of the 'Bots, and now seeks permission to join a mission, though she wisely asks Wheeljack for this blessing.

This is the beautiful part of her arc, crowned by her battle with Starscream and his Seekers (which is also just straight up awesome.) When she's kicked the afts of everyone, and Starscream tries to intimidate her with his usual "I killed Cliffjumper" speech, Miko's response is this calm, slightly rough, retort:

"Big whoop. I snuffed Hardshell."

In this moment, Miko Nakadai is shown to have grown from an excitable child into an unyielding, but mature, adult warrior. She no longer treats the War and the 'Bots like a game, or a release. She treats them as her friends who she will gladly risk her own life for.

And that, in my opinion, makes her the best human protagonist in all of Transformers: Prime, and Transformers media in general.

As for what I said earlier about her being the true audience surrogate, be honest with yourselves: If any of us were given the chance to meet the Autobots, wouldn't you be just as irrepressible as Miko, as eager to help as she was, and tempted to go to the battlefield to see the action/make sure your 'Bot wasn't going to die? That's what I mean when I say she's the audience surrogate - Miko acts like we would, and learns as we would about the War and the 'Bots if we suddenly came across them.

That's my two cents on Miko, and why she's the human character I respect the most in Transformers...probably of all time. If you liked it, I'm glad; Miko deserves better, and I hope I explained why well.

Til next time, folks!

"Autobots, transform!"

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 3 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: When Jake teaches you about foreplay, he also gives you a lesson in patience. Your body feels like it wants to rush through the motions, but he has a way of coaxing pleasure from you that you didn't realize any man was capable of.

Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

Your words were echoing in Jake's thoughts.

"I want you to make me feel good."

This was why he wanted to engage in small talk in the first place. To get to know you and let you see that he was capable of being more than a quickie to satisfy your agenda. He could be the opposite of the other guys, especially the ones at the bar. They wouldn't have the patience or take the time to make it good for you. But Jake would make sure you learned what you needed to know, and you'd have a smile on your face the whole time. As he gripped the globe of your ass with one big hand, he was getting more and more certain that he'd be smiling right along with you.

"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

Your lips were brushing his with every little movement and every breath you took. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been with someone so eager, and it was almost comical how unwilling you were to accept that fact. He smiled as your fingers grasped at the back of his neck while you rubbed your lace covered pussy all over the front of his jeans without much finesse. 

Not that it was unappealing. Not at all.

Just as your hand found its way down his body, ready to dip back inside his pants, he started to guide you away from his kitchen counter and your abandoned wine glass full of ice water. "Alright, Darlin'. Time to see how much you've learned so far. What was lesson number one?"

You seemed to be in a bit of a daze as he walked you backwards out of the kitchen and through the living room. "Um... don't talk about another guy when I'm touching your cock?" you whispered, eyes glued to his face.

"Very good. Now it's time for lesson number two: foreplay," he told you as he walked you backwards out of the kitchen and through the living room. You were wearing your tight tank top, a black thong, and your Converse sneakers. Your nipples were hard against his abdomen, making you all too appealing in your innocence. "And if you like the way that progresses, we can head right into lesson number three: oral sex."

Your eager eyes were wide as you looked up at him and asked, "You want me to give you a blowjob?"

He sure fucking did. He could already imagine the way you might hesitate before ultimately letting him guide you. His cock throbbed again as he thought about your excited but unpracticed moves. Shit. But truly, that's not what he'd been referring to.

"Not exactly," he grunted, mouth already watering at the scent of your arousal. You swallowed hard, your brow puckering softly like you couldn't understand his words. "We'll get there soon enough. But first..."

Jake liked to think he was good at foreplay. Whether he actually wanted to know about it or not, his older sisters were never quiet when they used to talk about guys, and he'd picked up a few vital bits of sage advice. One of them was the simple fact that women would go absolutely wild for a guy who was willing to spend the time required to really get them going. Even better if it was obvious he was enjoying himself, too.

So he got to work, but it didn't feel like work at all. Not when he had you pushed up against the wall in the hallway with his thick thigh wedged between yours. "Oh my god," you gasped, fingers tangled up in his hair. He let his lips meet yours before you finished speaking, and he kept them parted with his. One soft swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and you were rolling your hips against him.

You moaned softly as you broke the kiss, head tipped back against the wall. "Damn, you look cute," Jake grunted, and you made another soft sound as he examined your needy face. Then he licked a stripe along the side of your neck before kissing the same path and whispering, "You taste good, too. The other guys don't even know what they're missing."

"Jake." You were squeezing his thigh with your legs now as you clung to him, but he continued to casually sucked on your neck just above your collarbone. "Jake!"

"Feel good?" he asked, determined to make sure you were still enjoying yourself along the way before he kept going further. "Or you want me to stop?"

"Don't you dare stop," you practically shouted, ending on a soft whimper as he nudged at the strap of your flimsy little tank top with his nose. His fingers toyed with the lace thong along your hips as you gasped, "I'm... I'm really turned on."

Jake smiled against your shoulder, giving your hips a squeeze. "We're just getting started."

--------------------------

Foreplay was awesome. Foreplay was your favorite thing in the whole world. You'd never experienced it before, but now that you were in the middle of it, you never wanted it to end. Your skin was slick with sweat, but so was Jake's as he worked his hands up inside your top. Your voice cracked when you said his name which just made his rough fingers knead into you a little harder. God, he was something else.

"Jake," you whispered, already feeling like you were on the verge of an orgasm. He still had all of his clothes on, but his right leg was in between both of yours, and it felt better than it did when you touched yourself. Then his hands started slowly guiding your top up, exposing first your belly and then your breasts, leaving you no time to feel self conscious. He tossed your shirt aside as you stood there before him.

"God damn it," he groaned, and his hands slid around to your butt, hoisting you further up his leg. The sensation of your pussy rubbing his jeans again had you panting and scrambling to get your arms around his neck as your breasts mashed against his chest.

He was carrying you further down the hallway with his big hands gripping the backs of your thighs, and you were sucking in shallow breaths as you managed to ask, "Are you going to fuck me now?"

"Jesus Christ," he grunted. "You know, you're pretty fucking good at dirty talk for a virgin, Darlin'." 

You were still clinging to him as you looked around his bedroom. A king sized bed, modern furniture, huge windows, en suite bathroom, and a walk-in closet. He was an adult. Jake was a thirty year old man, and you'd never wanted anything in your life as much as you wanted him. "You didn't answer me," you whispered, your lips brushing his ear before he practically tossed you onto his bed. You squeaked as you sank into the soft, white bedding, making sure you kept your sneakers from touching any of it.

He was looking down at you, eyes raking from your face to your breasts and even lower as he touched himself through his jeans. Then he yanked his shirt over his head, and you gaped at his muscular chest and abs and shoulders. "I promised I'll make sure you come. But I don't need to fuck you to make that happen." He reached for your left ankle, circling it with one hand while he untied your shoelace. "These are cute, but they need to go." He tossed your shoe toward his closet, and soon the second one joined it.

Just when you propped yourself up on your elbows, he was on top of you, kissing your lips as you muttered his name. When his mouth trailed back down along your neck, he didn't stop. You gasped when his lightly stubbled cheek found your breast, but he kept going until your nipple was in between his lips, and you spread your legs wider to accommodate his body. You gave up, letting yourself sink onto your back as his big hand palmed and teased you while he tasted you seemingly everywhere.

Your mind was swimming as you tried to figure out how he was going to make you come, but a few seconds later, you were convinced his tongue swirling around your nipples could be enough. You knew you were making needy little noises, but you felt yourself clenching around nothing, and you were still wearing your thong. Your soaking wet thong. 

"Oh!" you gasped when Jake plucked at your nipple with his lips before looking up at you while he stroked your side lazily. He kept his eyes on you as he kissed at the underside of your breast, and you just gaped in response.

"If you were anybody else," he mused, "sure, I'd fuck you right now." Your body felt impossibly warm as his pretty green eyes seemed to darken. "But you have a lot to learn about." His hand trailed down your side, over your belly and to the tiny bit of lace covering you from being completely naked in his bed. 

"Tell me what I need to learn," you whispered, and Jake slid back off the bed, pulling you to the very edge with him. He knelt on the floor, pushing your thighs apart and planting your feet on the bed. You almost screamed his name when he leaned in and kissed you through your underwear, and something like possessiveness flashed in his eyes.

"It's always about you, Darlin'," he drawled. "That's what you need to know. It's not about me. It's never about the guy. It's about you."

"What do you mean?" you panted as he reached for the lace at your hips and started to pull it down. You had to lift your butt up from the edge of the bed and raise your legs up in the air, but your damp thong was soon on the bed next to you.

Jake grunted, planting your feet in place again as you spread out completely naked for him. When he kissed your bare pussy, you bucked up off of his bed and grabbed at the duvet, trying to squeeze your legs together. His big shoulders were in the way, and his finger was running up and down your slit as he said, "It's always about you. I'm gonna come no matter what. Any guy would if you treated him to your body. So you make sure you get what you deserve before he indulges to the point of no return."

And then his mouth was all over your pussy, and it was better than anything you'd ever felt in your life. "Oh my god." It was like the breath was knocked from your lungs as he licked up and down and back up to your clit. It was as if your body was trying to fight you as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch what he was doing, and you just stared at him, mouth agape. It looked fucking hot as his glistening lips pressed against your clit before he started sucking gently, and you were already so close embarrassingly to an orgasm.

"You don't have to do this," you blurted out way too loud as Jake met your gaze. "Guys don't like doing this?" It sounded more like a question as you watched him drag his tongue in a slow circle around your clit before kissing you there. His pupils were huge, and now you were confused, because it definitely looked like he was enjoying himself as his fingers dug into your thighs.

"Men love this." His words and the way he dragged his nose through your slick pussy left you with your mouth hanging open. "But if you're not enjoying yourself, all you need to do is say so."

Your voice shook as he sucked gently on your clit once again. "I'm definitely enjoying myself."

---------------------------

You were soaking wet, your arousal slick as Jake ran his tongue along your slit. You tasted sweet and tangy, and you smelled so good, he had to bury his nose in you over and over. Just a perfect pussy. Technically you'd never been fucked by a guy before, but maybe someone else already got to taste how exquisite this was? He had to know.

He released your clit and kissed his way up your belly, watching your chest heave with every breath you took as you tried to rub against him for more friction. "Anyone ever get you off with their mouth before, Darlin'?" 

Your eyes were wide, and your stuttered response was music to his ears. "N-No."

"Nobody has ever tasted you like this?" he asked softly, as you touched his hair almost reverently.

"Never."

How was he supposed to do anything else at the moment besides guarantee that he was not only your first, but your best. Guarantee that you thought about him anytime any other man touched you here. He never wanted you to be disappointed, ever, but he needed to know you'd think about his mouth when someone else just couldn't seem to get the job done like he could.

If you thought guys didn't like eating pussy, then you must have heard that shit from some college jackasses who had no idea how fucking good it felt to lap up after an orgasm. They were the type to chase their own pleasure instead of finding out how much better it felt to cum after watching your partner fall apart at your touch. They didn't deserve to get to have you, and now he was rejoicing in the fact that he didn't let you go prancing around campus in your little leather skirt after all.

Your hands were wound up tight in his bedding, and your back was arched off of his bed as you keened and gasped his name. You couldn't seem to get control of your own body, but he didn't care. He was rock hard, enjoying every moment of this. He kissed the inside of your thigh to give you a break, and sure enough, you eased your ass back down onto the bed. But as soon as he ran his tongue back from your hole to your clit, your body jerked up again.

"Come here," he crooned, wrapping his hands around your waist, holding you gently in place. "God, you're eager for this. You ready for me to make you come?"

"Yes," you gasped as he held you down and licked his way through your pussy, each stroke more intentional than the last. Each press of his lips to your clit a little bit rougher. And you got louder again for him as he brought you to the edge. Your voice was hoarse as he sucked on your clit, your hips rolling gently in his grasp. "Oh my god, oh my god!" Your feet were digging into the edge of his bed, but he didn't let up until your legs were shaking. Then you reached the peak, and Jake couldn't remember ever enjoying himself this much.

He was never going to forget the pitch of your voice as you cried out and came all over his tongue. He lapped up every last bit of you as you panted on his bed, arms limp at your sides. He ran his nose along your thigh, and when he stood, he looked down at the little grin on your face as your eyes fluttered open. 

"Did you have fun?" he asked, and you turned your head to the side in embarrassment as you closed your legs, but you were still smiling.

"Yes," you whispered as he eased himself onto the bed next to you, and you met his eyes. "I can't believe you did that without... you know...."

He ran his thumb along your lip as he lounged on his side in his jeans. "You gonna finish that sentence?" When you shook your head and laughed he said, "Come on, Darlin'. Enlighten me."

You squirmed a bit and sighed as you whispered, "You didn't... penetrate me... at all."

Somehow those words had him wrapping his arm around you and pulling you flush against him on your side. When he kissed you softly, you gasped and tentatively licked his lip. You pulled away, eyes wide before going in for a more aggressive kiss, and Jake groaned as you tasted his mouth. "Oh," he grunted. "You like the way you taste?"

You whimpered into his mouth as you swiped his tongue with yours, and Jake let you taste yourself on him to your heart's content. The only issue he had was the way you kept nudging his erection with your leg, and holy shit, he was starting to get blue balls. He carefully guided your leg over his hip as you licked your way along his cheek with your fingers in his hair. If you were enjoying yourself this much, then he was ready to give you more.

His voice was barely a whisper as you kissed his nose. "You wanna feel a little penetration?" When you pulled your face away from him a few inches and nodded, he said, "Lesson four. My hand."

When he reached between his body and yours and cupped your pussy, your eyes fluttered closed. He kissed your pretty face as he teased your hole until you were grabbing the back of his neck and whining, "Please, Jake!"

He gave you anything you wanted. First one finger and then two. And then his thumb on your clit when you begged for that. Your hips were moving in time with his hand, and it was evident that you were still worked up from your first orgasm. "I want you to think about me," he growled as you started to clench around his fingers. "When you touch yourself, but especially when someone else isn't quite good enough. You think of me."

------------------------------

Jake was pumping two fingers inside you and easing you onto your back, and you'd be shocked if you could ever think of anything other than his soft hair and green eyes ever again. You started kissing him, pulling him closer with one hand one his neck and one on his cheek as he finger fucked you. Your body felt wrung out from your first orgasm, but he had you right there again already.

You shivered as you tasted his tongue, the feel of his sure and steady thumb on your clit making you unable to control yourself. You could feel how hard his cock was, pressed to your leg through his jeans, and you wanted to figure out how to give him a handjob or a blowjob, just like he'd done for you. If he let you try, you'd make sure you did your best, because he was about to make you come again. 

"Jake," you gasped, your teeth grazing his lip as you held him close. But he pulled away enough that he could watch you with a little smirk as you looked up at him and started whining. It felt that good, the way his fingers pumped and the way his thumb circled your slick clit. You were riding his hand as you felt yourself clench around his thick fingers, and then it was all over. You saw stars. You heard a high pitched sound in your ears. You were babbling incoherently. You were coming so hard.

Jake's lips were on your breasts, your skin slick with sweat and saliva as the cool air in his bedroom hit you there, and you almost wanted to scoot away from him as you started to feel overstimulated, but he seemed to know it was time to pull his hand from between your thighs. His fingers were glistening, but you caught his wrist before he could wipe them on his jeans.

"Damn," he crooned as you guided his hand to your mouth. "You're the filthiest virgin I've ever met."

You laughed as you let his fingers slip between your lips, and you cleaned your taste off of him with your tongue. Jake's green eyes were wide, and as soon as you let his hand slip away, his tongue was swiping yours like he wanted another taste for himself. Even though he'd had his face buried in your pussy not too long ago. You kissed him and let his hand roam your chest and up to your neck, and just when you felt him grind his cock against your belly, you couldn't hold back your enormous yawn.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, trying your best to cover your mouth with your hand as a second yawn started up. "You wore me out."

"Don't apologize for that, Darlin'," Jake drawled, and he collected you in his arms and helped you stand up on shaky legs. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He held your hand and led you into his bathroom. You glanced around the tidy space at the fancy shower and the double sink vanity while he dug around in a drawer. The room was masculine and smelled good, just like he did. And you kind of liked the way he casually kissed your cheek as he handed you a green toothbrush that reminded you of his eyes. "Here's a clean washcloth, toothpaste and face wash. Let me know if you need anything else."

When he started to walk away, you said, "Wait." He turned back, green eyes on you as you asked, "You want me to stay?"

Jake shrugged and said, "Only if you want to. You've still got a lot to learn. Or I can drive you home instead."

His eyes looked a little guarded now, waiting for your response. "I'll stay," you whispered, and he nodded with a little smile.

You yawned again as he exited the room and pulled the door closed softly behind him, and when you looked in the mirror, you did a double take. It wasn't that you looked different exactly, but maybe you did. Jake hadn't even fucked you, but perhaps you looked a little older now. You laughed, knowing you were full of nonsense as you brushed your teeth. Then you washed your face and used the toilet, biting your lip at the way your body felt kind of sore after two delicious orgasms.

When you walked out of the bathroom, Jake was pulling the duvet back, wearing just a pair of boxer briefs. His cock was still hard, and you desperately wanted to show him some appreciation, but you couldn't stop yawning.

"Climb in, Darlin'." You were about to stay the night with a thirty year old man you just met a few hours ago, but you didn't feel apprehensive at all. Even though his mouth had been all over your body, and he knew what you sounded like when he made you come. 

You ducked your head as you climbed under the covers, and Jake surprised you by leaning down and kissing your forehead. When he stood up again, you started to scoot over, but he turned toward the bathroom. "Are you coming back?" you asked softly.

Jake nodded and said, "Yeah, I just need a minute." His voice was strained, and as he turned off the lamp next to his bed, your gaze drifted to one of the huge windows and the stars in the late night sky. 

"Can you hear the ocean from your room?" you asked with another yawn as your eyes closed. 

"Sure can," he replied with a chuckle. You heard him slide the window open and felt the cool breeze on your face. Almost immediately, you dozed off to the sound of the ocean and the feel of Jake's fingers on your cheek.

-----------------------------

Jake had to be out of his mind for inviting you to stay over, but the last thing on his mind was booting you out like a random tag chaser. And besides, he wanted to spend more time with you. There was something about you that he really liked. You were a smartass, and you were funny. And your body was sweet and sensitive, and as a result of all of those things, he had a problem he needed to take care of.

He watched you curl up in his bed with a smile on your face as you listened to the sounds of the ocean, and then he rushed into the bathroom. With less finesse than he showed you, Jake yanked his underwear down and wrapped his hand around his cock. He was aching with need, your taste still on his tongue as he jerked off. You were in his bed. His room smelled like your arousal. "Shit," he grunted, stroking himself quickly. 

When you asked if he wanted you to give him a blowjob, he should have said yes. The idea of you on your knees for him, practically oozing sweet innocence with your lips parted in invitation was too much. But he wanted to spend hours working you up, fucking you until you screamed his name. He wanted to teach you so many things and be the first one to do all of them. He'd already taken you to the brink of overstimulation and exhausted your body, and now he just wanted to do it all over again.

As soon as he pulled up the memory of your hand wrapped around his cock in the kitchen, Jake came. Hard. He was panting your name, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he leaned against the wall. Exhausted and finally sated, he yawned before he cleaned himself up and brushed his teeth. When he walked back out into his bedroom and found you snuggled up in the middle of his massive bed, he slipped in next to you.

"Jake," you moaned softly, rolling to face him and wrapping your arm across his chest. He held you close as he listened to the sound of the ocean in the darkness, and then he was asleep too.

------------------------------

I think she probably needs a few more lessons.... I'm going to let her have a few more lessons. What would you want Jake to take the time to teach you? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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[narxcisse]

★ — Mama's boy Jason Todd headcanons

Jason Todd x Mother/Mother figure!Reader

CW: mention of Jason's death (+reader blames Bruce for his death), fluff, I did my best to keep it canon without romanticizing or fanonizing anything. 😭

English isn't my native language

Jason met you before his days as Robin, back when he was still living on the streets. You were one of the rare adults who didn’t look at him with pity or disdain but instead treated him with quiet respect. Maybe you ran a small diner, a shelter, or worked as a social worker with no patience for bureaucracy.

The first time Jason came into your life, he wasn’t looking for help. He was scrappy, full of fire, and incredibly proud, but you saw past the bravado to the hungry, clever kid beneath. You offered him food without strings attached, and from then on, he kept coming back.

When Bruce took him in, you were one of the few people he trusted enough to talk to. He didn’t tell you about being Robin outright, but you noticed he’d sometimes show up with bruises or a limp, his explanations half-hearted at best.

Jason sought your advice on everything—from school troubles to navigating the strange dynamics of the Wayne household. You often found yourself acting as a translator for his emotions when he struggled to articulate them.

He valued your opinion deeply. If you told him to apologize to Bruce for a fight or to take a break when he was pushing himself too hard, he’d grumble but almost always listen.

Even as Robin, Jason was fiercely protective of you. If he thought someone was giving you trouble or you were in any danger, his sharp instincts kicked in. “No one messes with my mom,” he’d mutter, even if you insisted you could handle yourself.

Jason’s growing disillusionment with Bruce often spilled into your conversations. You tried to mediate, understanding both sides but always prioritizing Jason’s feelings.

When he died, it broke you in a way you didn’t think was possible. You immediately blamed Bruce for letting him take on so much danger, not even letting him explain everything that happened. (Over time you apologized to him for what happened and understood that he was just as devastated as you were by Jason's death.)

When Jason came back as Red Hood, he avoided you for a long time. He didn’t think you’d accept him, not after everything he’d done. But when he finally worked up the courage to see you, he was stunned to find you opening your arms to him without hesitation.

“You’ve been through hell, Jason. I’m just glad you’re alive.” Those words stuck with him more than anything else anyone had said since his return.

You didn’t sugarcoat your disappointment in his methods, but you also didn’t try to control him. You understood that his pain and anger needed to run their course. Instead, you focused on reminding him that he still had someone who believed in him.

Jason acts tough, but around you, he’s a little softer. He loves the comfort of having someone who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than himself.

He calls you more than he calls anyone else. Sometimes it’s to rant, sometimes it’s just to check in. “You eat yet?” he’ll ask, even if he’s halfway across the world.

Whenever he’s in Gotham, he always makes time to visit you. He’ll bring little gifts—books he thinks you’ll like, a weird trinket from some mission, or your favorite snack.

Jason craves your approval more than he’d ever admit. When you compliment his growth or tell him you’re proud of him, he practically glows, even if he rolls his eyes and pretends to brush it off.

He’s fiercely protective of you, more so than anyone else. If he even suspects someone’s giving you a hard time, he’ll show up unannounced, ready to “handle” it. You usually have to calm him down before he goes full Red Hood.

You’re one of the few people who can challenge Jason’s darker impulses without him lashing out. “You don’t have to agree with me, but at least think about it,” you’ll say, and he actually does.

When he’s struggling with his identity—whether he’s a hero, an anti-hero, an anti-villain or something else entirely (bro seriously thinks he's Barbie. 😭🙏)—you’re his anchor. You remind him that he’s more than his past, more than his mistakes.

Jason often credits you for keeping him grounded. He’ll never say it outright, but you’re one of the reasons he hasn’t spiraled further.

Jason fixing things around your home without being asked—tightening loose hinges, replacing lightbulbs, and even rebuilding your bookshelves because he “didn’t like the wobble.”

Late-night phone calls where he opens up about his fears and frustrations, his voice quieter and more vulnerable than usual.

Cooking together when he visits, even if he claims he’s “not great in the kitchen.” He loves hearing your stories as you work side by side.

The rare moments when he lets his guard down completely, resting his head on your shoulder or letting you ruffle his hair like he’s still the scrappy kid you first met.

Jason may be a complicated, broken man, but with you, he finds a sense of peace he doesn’t get anywhere else. To him, you’re not just a mother figure—you’re his family, his safe place, and the person who never gave up on him.

The first sign something was wrong was the way Jason entered your apartment—quiet, almost hesitant. He was usually a storm of energy when he visited, slamming the door behind him and announcing his arrival with some sarcastic quip. But today, he just slipped inside, set his helmet down carefully on the counter, and stood there, staring at nothing.

You didn’t need to ask if he was okay. You already knew he wasn’t.

“Jason?” you called softly from the couch, setting down the book you’d been reading.

He didn’t respond right away, just shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chair. His movements were slower than usual, less precise. It was like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders, and for once, even his stubbornness couldn’t hold it up.

You stood and approached him carefully, giving him space to come to you if he needed it. “Rough day?”

He let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Something like that.”

You waited, not pressing him to elaborate. Jason had always been like this—he’d open up when he was ready, and not a second before.

For a moment, you thought he might brush you off entirely. But then, with a deep sigh, he turned to you, his expression a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “I don’t know. I just…” He trailed off, raking a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

That admission made your heart ache. Jason, who always acted like he didn’t need anyone, who carried his pain like armor, had come to you because he didn’t know what else to do.

Without a word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened for half a second—old habits, you supposed—but then he melted into the embrace, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I’m just so tired,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmured, rubbing slow circles on his back. “I know.”

He held onto you like you were a lifeline, his broad shoulders shaking slightly. You didn’t push him to explain, didn’t try to fix it. You just held him, letting him unload the weight he’d been carrying for who-knows-how-long.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Time didn’t seem to matter. Eventually, Jason pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes red but a little clearer.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He huffed out a small laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Yeah, well, don’t go getting used to this. I’m not turning into a softie or anything.”

You smiled, tapping his chest lightly. “Don’t worry. You’re still the toughest guy I know.”

Jason rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned into your touch again, letting his head rest on your shoulder. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to just be—a son needing his mom. And you were more than happy to give him what he needed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AN: I wrote this for my bestie, I hope you liked it. 💗🤺

[raven-dor]

I saw your recent Edmund fic and I’m obsessed!

Could you do one where Edmund gets super jealous/overprotective with reader? I love possessive Edmund!

mine all mine

the four times in which edmund discovers that he is overprotective of his wife, and the one time she proves to him she can take care of herself

PAIRING: edmund pevensie x wife!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, overprotective nature, sword fighting, typical Narnia violence, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

AN: This is set during the Golden Age, so all of them are adults!! also your title is fair, as in an adjective for just, not at all a description of what the reader looks like!!

part two (mine, all mine, all mine)

one.

He hadn’t meant to listen in to his wife’s meeting, really. But when he noticed Lord Eluna raising his voice, he couldn’t help but linger outside of the door, his hand on his sword's hilt. Y/N’s constantly calm voice interrupted the seething lord. “While I understand the importance of this situation, it does not warrant you to act poorly towards your queen, Lord Eluna.” 

The man scoffed. “By marriage. A marriage which could be easily annulled, seeing as you have not produced his grace any heirs.” 

Y/N laughed, seemingly not phased by his comment. “We are not in desperate need of any heirs, my lord. If you haven’t noticed, we have a plethora of rulers. Unless you are planning something that would warrant the need of heirs.” She paused, and Edmund could only assume the look on her face, the one she typically made when she was proving him wrong. "Are you?"  

“How dare you insinuate-” 

Edmund forced down a laugh, barging into the room. “My lords.” 

The table of twelve men stood, bowing to their superior. Half hearted ‘Your Grace’s’ were thrown Edmund’s way, but he could not care less. He looked at the man who was still glaring daggers at his wife. “Lord Eluna.” 

“Your Grace.” He tore his eyes from the young queen. “We were just-”

“Yes.” Edmund raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I heard. And while I appreciate your obviously kind and thoughtful concern, my wife and I do not need your advice on that particular matter.” 

Y/N turned bright red, widening her eyes when all the lord's jaws dropped. “Edmund-” 

“I’m sure whatever you were meeting about can be postponed.” Edmund looked around the table, waiting for an answer. “Well?” The lords clambered, nodding quickly in agreement. He smirked and walked over to his wife, holding out his arm for her to hold. “My love.” 

She rolled her eyes but still hooked her arm through his. “You are quite dramatic.” 

He laughed, ignoring the prying eyes around them. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” The couple walked out the doors, giggling when they knew the lords could no longer hear them. Edmund frowned, rubbing her arm comfortingly. “Do they always treat you so horribly?” 

“You cannot keep doing this, Ed.” She sighed.

“What am I do-” 

She glared at him. “You know what you’re doing. They will never learn to respect me if you keep coming to my defense.” 

“It’s been two years. They should have respected you the minute I married you. Actually-” He scoffed. “They should respect you because it’s the right thing to do.” 

They walked into their chambers, collapsing onto the bed. Edmund wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in as she traced shapes into his chest. “You're a gallant and honorable man, Edmund, much more than your lords. But you know as well as I that those old malcontents will never respect me until I give them a reason to.” 

“I wish it wasn’t so.” He leaned down, kissing her temple. “You are a much better leader than me.” 

She scoffed, leaning into his touch. “Not true.”

“Yes.” He nodded, staring at the ceiling. “You are.” 

“If I am..." She appeased him. "It is only because I’ve watched you and your siblings rule with kindness and justice for so long. Please do not put yourself down for my sake.” She stretched up, kissing him gently. “Never put yourself down; you are too perfect for that.” 

“If you insist.” He smiled, feeling lovesick. How could he not? The most beautiful woman in all of Narnia, or, more accurately, the universe, lay beside him.

Of course, he felt lovesick.

two.

“Happy Birthday, my love.” Y/N smiled mischievously at her husband. “How old are you now? Eighty?” 

He glared, kissing her cheek softly. “What a charmer you are.” 

She nodded and took a deep breath, straightening her dress as they prepared to enter the ballroom. “Well, you didn’t marry me for my baking skills.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Your baking skills are perfectly adequate.” 

She scoffed, looking up at him once more. “Don’t lie to me, Edmund Pevensie.” She fought the smile that threatened to break her act. “You flatter me too much, I think.”

He felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her senselessly. He had that urge constantly, but it was especially difficult at that moment. “You are a true beauty. Have I told you?”

She blushed, turning her face back towards the grand doors. “Behave.” 

He nodded, still looking at her in awe, enjoying the way her flushed cheeks complemented her dress. He had always loved her in the color blue. “Yes, ma’am.” 

The ushers opened the doors, and they stepped forward. “King Edmund the Just, and Queen Y/N the Fair.” 

The room exploded into applause for the Just King, and the pair descended the stairs, focusing on not falling in front of all their subjects. Peter, Susan, and Lucy sat on their thrones at the bottom, smiling brightly. Lucy gestured toward the Maestro, and Edmund led his wife to the middle of the ballroom. “I do wonder what they'll play.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Y/N's smile grew as their wedding waltz’s familiar intro echoed through the hall. “This isn’t fair.” 

He laughed at the irony. “Why not, my love?” 

“It is your birthday, not our anniversary.” 

He spun her around the room, whispering. “I happen to like this song.” 

“Edmund…” She blushed again. “You should have chosen a song that you love.” 

“I did.” The waltz ended, and he bowed. “It reminds me of you; why wouldn’t I love it?” 

Her eyes were watering, and he suddenly felt horrible, his stomach twisting. “I’m sorry, did I-” 

She leaped up, kissing him soundly. The crowd gasped, but Edmund didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned back, their foreheads touching. “I don’t deserve you.” 

His heart felt full. “Quite the opposite, really.” He kissed her once more, nuzzling his nose with hers. “I love you.” 

Lucy clapped her hands, pulling the crowd's attention away from the happy couple. “Thank you all so much for attending my brother’s 24th birthday ball!” The room erupted into cheers. Lucy smiled. “Help yourselves to the buffet, or take to the dance floor. Happy Birthday, dear brother.”

The crowd dispersed, and the pair walked up to the thrones, sitting beside each other, still holding hands. Peter muttered, smirking. “Couldn’t have waited until later?” 

Edmund rolled his eyes. “Just because you don’t have a love li-” 

Y/N scolded her husband. “Ed.” 

Peter glared playfully at his brother. “My love life is none of your business, thank you very much.” 

Susan laughed. “How is she?” 

Peter blushed. “She has a name.” He straightened his posture, looking out into the crowd for who Y/N could only assume they were talking about. “As perfect as ever.” 

Lucy giggled. “Have you tried talking to her?” 

Peter closed his eyes, leaning his head back against his throne. “I am getting attacked from all sides, it seems.” 

Y/N smiled. “I think it’s sweet. You seem very in love.” He smiled back, looking longingly at the buffet table, where a gorgeous maid stood handing out desserts. Y/N nudged him lightly. “You could ask her to dance.” 

He laughed, and when he realized his sister in law was not laughing, stopped. “I fear she would not like the fuss.” 

“Ah.” Y/N looked over at the girl again. “I will be right back.” 

Edmund whined. “Where are you off to?” 

“None of your business, Edmund.” She kissed his cheek quickly. “Do have fun at your own birthday party.” 

He sighed as she walked away. “How can I when you’re leaving?” 

The fair queen glided across the floor with the intention of making conversation with the girl the High King was infatuated with. She had almost reached Peter's love when a hand wrapped around her waist. She gasped, pulling herself out of the stranger’s hold. The visibly drunk lord bowed teasingly. “My Lady, would you care-” A hiccup interrupted his question. “Would you care to dance?” 

She smiled politely. “I’m afraid my card is full for the night. But thank you for the offer.” 

The man tried to speak again, but she turned around, walking back towards the maid. 

Edmund had seen the entire interaction, gripping the handles of his throne tight enough to break the solid stone. Peter whispered. “Edmund, don’t do anything rash-” 

“He just-” 

Peter gave him the stare, that older brother stare that he tried to reserve for hard moments. “He will be dealt with, trust me, but you need to be subtle-” 

Edmund stood up, stalking over to the drunken lord. Peter sighed once more. "He will be the first to give me gray hairs.” 

Susan rolled her eyes. “You are twenty-seven, Peter. You’re not graying anytime soon.” 

Edmund grabbed the lord’s arm, dragging him out to the balcony. “A nice night, isn’t it?” 

The lord was in shock, nodding. “Yes, Your Grace.” He grinned. “It is truly an honor to have been invited to your-” 

“It was a nice night.” The young king smiled condescendingly. “Until you harassed my wife.” 

“I-” The old man stuttered. “I meant no disrespect.” 

“Don’t lie to your king.” Edmund seethed. “If you ever do that again, I will rue the day, believe me.” He took a deep breath. “You will apologize to my wife, and after that, you will leave immediately. You are fortunate that I don’t ensure you are barred from the castle grounds.” 

The lord looked upset. Good, Edmund thought, serves him right. “But Your Grace-” 

“Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes.” The old man nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.” He stumbled back into the ballroom, making a beeline for Y/N. Edmund watched from afar, smiling as she smiled, actually genuinely smiled. Then he frowned when she let him kiss her hand. Oh, how he wanted to have him banished. 

Y/N made her way to the balcony, shaking her head at her proud husband. “What have you done?” 

“Nothing. Why do you assume-” 

“Edmund.” She crossed her arms. “You must stop.” 

“What?” He laughed. “Stop protecting you?” 

“Yes!” She yelled, exasperated from his constant watching eye. “I had it handled.” 

“He harassed you.” 

“Thank you Edmund.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, something Edmund did not appreciate at the moment. “I wasn’t aware.” 

“My love.” He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “As long as there is air in my lungs, I will protect you. It pains me to see you go through these things.” 

She smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. “You are a good man, Edmund.” 

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But if we make a fuss about every lord who gets handsy while they’re drunk, the ballroom will be empty.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Good. Get rid of the whole lot of them. I would rather it just be you and I anyhow.” 

Y/N gasped, smacking his chest lightly. “Edmund!” 

“No one should have to deal with that.” 

“Well, I agree. But you can’t-” 

“Good.” He nodded, ignoring the fact that he just interrupted her. “Who were you talking to after that incident?” 

“Peter’s love.” She smiled. “That girl is quite kind. Spirited, too.” 

Edmund laughed, pulling Y/N in. “Perfect for Peter then.” 

She hummed, leaning her head on his chest as they looked back into the ballroom. “Perfect for Peter.” 

three.

It had been Edmund’s idea to go on an afternoon ride. Y/N had reminded him of the recent attacks that they were investigating, but he’d ignored her. Their horses galloped through the fall woods, leaves falling as they flew through. Phillip muttered. “Her horse is much younger than me, no wonder she keeps beating me.” 

Y/N’s horse, Vilja, laughed. “Perhaps you are simply slow, Phillip.” 

Y/N fought against the laugh that threatened to spill out. “Now Vilja, play nice. Remember, Phillip has to hold Edmund and his ego.” 

Edmund scoffed, shoving his wife playfully as they slowed. “What happened to playing nice?” 

They tied the horses beside each other, walking through the woods leisurely. “It is perfect outside, is it not?” 

Y/N nodded, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It is.” She smiled as the lantern came into view. “It’s been too long.” 

Edmund hummed. “We’re happy here.” He looked down, his heart beating fast. “You would tell me if you weren't happy, I hope.” 

“Of course, Edmund.” She smiled. “I'm very happy here. I only meant we’ve been here for a long time. After all, it has been thirteen years.” She looked back at the lantern, pulling Edmund along with her. “I wonder how long it’s been there.” 

He laughed, kissing her temple gently. “Who cares?” 

“Edmund…” She leaned into his touch. Feeling mischievous, she pulled out of his hold, sprinting further into the woods. 

Edmund groaned, chasing after her. “This was funnier the first time.” 

The nymphs giggled as they watched the couple run through the woods. Edmund spun in the clearing, squinting as he tried to find his wife. “Y/N, you know I’ll find-” A piercing scream broke the joyful nature of their fun, and his heart sank. “Y/N?” He waited for her response, another scream echoing through the forest. He ran towards her, unsheathing his sword. “Y/N!” He broke through the woods, finding his wife backed against a tree, a wolf growling in front of her. Edmund stood in between them, pointing the sword at the wolf’s head. “We don’t want to harm you.” 

The wolf simply growled. Odd. Edmund whispered. “Stay still, my love.” He stepped forward, addressing the wolf once more. “You have one more chance to leave us. We won’t harm you if you do so, you have my word.”

The wolf leaned back, lunging at Edmund, and he slashed his sword, killing the animal in a single blow. Y/N stood silent behind him, staring at the ground. “I thought all animals spoke in Narnia.” 

“So did I.” Edmund knelt beside it, checking for any witchcraft of any sort. 

Y/N smiled sympathetically, kneeling beside him. “She’s gone.” 

“He was wild. There had to have been-” Edmund was silenced by a gentle kiss. He blushed. “What was that-” She kissed him once more, smiling. 

“Edmund, she is gone. For good. And you saved me.” She mumbled. “Even though I could have reached for my sword-” 

He rolled his eyes, standing up and extending his hand. “Let me guess? You had it handled?” 

four.

She was radiant in that blue dress, Edmund observed from afar. After he had expressed his love of her in the color, she had ensured that almost all her dresses were that light blue. The rest of her dresses were her favorite color, which Edmund loved on her almost as much. 

Unfortunately, others enjoyed looking at his wife as well. Lately, in Edmund’s opinion, her sworn guard had been looking at her for much too long. He was a conventionally attractive man, Edmund could admit, but he didn’t like that the young knight was looking at his wife the way Edmund himself looked at her. 

He hadn’t brought it up to Y/N, not wanting to be called overprotective for the hundredth time. So he watched from afar, making sure that the knight didn’t make any untoward actions towards her. 

They were currently in the garden, and Y/N was smelling the flowers, laughing and making polite conversation with Ser Ellington. The young man laughed back, reaching out to stable her when she stumbled over a root. Edmund clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm. 

It was his job after all, to make sure his queen was safe.

But when he reached out and grabbed a flower, extending it to the kind woman, Edmund snapped. That was not his job. He practically stalked forward, interrupting whatever conversation the two had been having. “My love.” He called out. “You look radiant.” 

She blushed. “Edmund, I thought you had your meeting.” 

He nodded. “I did, but we finished early, I thought I would accompany you for the rest of the day.” 

“Of course.” She looked over Edmund’s shoulder at Ser Ellington. “You are excused for the day. Thank you, Ser.” 

The knight bowed. “My Queen. Your Grace.” 

Edmund watched suspiciously as the young knight walked away, only turning back to his wife when he turned the corner. Y/N smirked, tilting her head just so. “You have no need to be jealous, my love.” She turned back to the flowers, smelling them. 

Edmund smiled guiltily, following after her like a puppy. “Can you blame me? Ser Ellington is not exactly unappealing.” 

She nodded, still not looking back at him. “He is. But I am not married to him, nor do I sleep in the same bed as him every night.” Edmund turned bright red. “Am I wrong?” 

“You are not, but you have to understand. You’re a beautiful woman, I can’t help but worry that someone will steal you away.” 

She rolled her eyes, turning around. “Do you really think I would hurt you so?” 

“No-” 

“What have I done to make you assume so? I love you; I made a vow to you.” She crossed her arms. “Am I just a prize to you that you desperately need to cling to?” 

“Of course not.” He grabbed her hands in his. “I’m madly in love with you, and the thought of you leaving me, the simple thought…” He pulled her closer, whispering. “Drives me mad.” 

“Edmund.” She glared, pulling out of his hold. “You are exaggerating.” 

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her gently back to him. “Do you really think I do not love you?” 

“I never said that.” 

He laughed. “You act as if we were not a love match. Like we didn’t discover Narnia together. I love you; I think I have since we were young.” He kissed the back of her hand delicately. “I know that I am too overprotective, and I am sorry for that…” 

She smirked with satisfaction. “Good.” 

“But can you blame me? You are a treasure, surely any other man would act that same way.” 

Y/N nodded. “Perhaps. But you are not any other man. You are Edmund Pevensie, and I know you know deep down that I can handle myself. I do not need you to watch over me like a mother hen.” She raised an eyebrow. “I also fought the White Witch, I also helped you form peace treaties, I also-”

Y/N stopped, becoming more irritable by the second when she realized Edmund wasn’t listening. He stared at her so lovingly it made her sick, and she scoffed. “I am going to the library.” 

He nodded, following after. “I shall accompany you.” 

She shook her head. “I would like to go alone.” 

He frowned. “Are you-” 

“Edmund, please.” She sighed. “I love you, but I need to be alone with my thoughts.” Without a second glance, she walked out of the garden, leaving Edmund helplessly staring at her. 

the time she proved him wrong

They had been gone for too long, Y/N thought as she stared at the woods. They had been gone for hours longer than they said they would. She should have gone with them; who knows where they were, where Edmund was. 

She tried to calm herself down and reminded herself that neither Edmund nor his siblings would leave her in Narnia alone, but it was difficult when all of the hunt’s participants were speaking to her at once. 

“Where are they?” Lord Eluna’s voice sounded over the rest. She tried not to glare at him; she could tell the man was enjoying the sight of her under pressure. 

“I understand everyone’s worries; I have them myself, but we all know that the Kings and Queens would never leave their subjects so suddenly. Have no doubt that they will return. I am certain High King Peter and King Edmund dragged their sisters along a trail of the deer’s tracks.” Light laughter echoed through the crowd, relieving her stress slightly. Her stomach fluttered, and she pressed a hand to it, rubbing it slightly. “Does anyone else have any immediate causes for concern?” 

The crowd erupted into chaos once more, and she took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “I will take meetings with all of you individually in the main tent.” 

meanwhile...

Edmund sighed, staring at his older brother as he tried to convince himself the deer was nearby. “Peter, we’ve been gone for hours. If we haven’t found the deer by now, who’s to say we’ll find it later?” He practically pleaded. “We should return to camp.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just because you want to get back to your wife-” 

“Peter, Edmund’s right.” Susan interrupted. “This deer isn’t important, and Y/N is there alone with the entirety of the court.” She frowned. “If it were me, I would be rather overwhelmed.” 

Edmund fell into his thoughts, staring at the ground. Lucy whispered, nudging her brother lightly. “Edmund, don’t-” 

Edmund tightened the reigns on Phillip, racing back towards the camp. Peter sighed, riding not far behind him. The dark-haired king didn’t look back; his only thought was that he had left Y/N alone with the egotistical lords of the realm. Phillip slowed, and Edmund jumped off, running towards camp. 

Everything was fine, almost too fine. It was quiet, with a slight buzz of chatter but no worried voices. He stalked toward the main tent, whipping it open. 

There sat his radiant wife, talking calmly with Lord Dolitmov. The older man saw Edmund and immediately stood, bowing. “Your Grace.” He looked back to Y/N, kissing the back of the queen’s hand gently. “Your Grace.” 

Y/N smiled, waving as he walked out of the tent. Edmund tilted his head, smiling. “What happened?” 

She laughed. "The better question would be, what happened with you?” She hugged herself, rubbing her stomach once more. Edmund made a mental note to address that later. “You were gone for so long I assumed you had returned home.” 

He shook his head, frowning as he realized how stressed she had been. “I’m sorry for the worry we caused you; I fear Peter was too fixated on finding the white steed.” 

She nodded. “I wondered.” 

He took her hand in his, rubbing the back with his thumb. “I’m sorry that I worried you. But I must say, it is rather calm here.” 

She smirked. “I told you I can handle myself.” 

He laughed. “I believe you. Truly I do.” he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back gently. “I love you.” 

“And I you.” She walked into his arms, burying her head in his chest. “I would have died from heartbreak if you had left me.” 

“I would never.” He kissed her temple. “You know that.” 

She nodded. “I know you would never leave us.” 

He nodded back. “Correct. I would never leave-” He paused, tilting his head. “Us?” 

Y/N looked up sheepishly. “I-” Her eyes started to water. “I’m pregnant, Edmund.” 

“What?” Edmund grinned, staring at his wife in disbelief. “Really?” 

She nodded, and Edmund grabbed her waist, spinning her around the room. Y/N cackled, smacking his shoulder. “Put me down; you’re going to hurt the babe.” 

“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I can’t help it.” 

She laughed, kissing his lips softly. “I love you.” 

Edmund leaned down, kissing her soundly. “And I you.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos

[thesummerestsolstice]

Things that Absolutely Happened while M&M were Raising E&E:

Maglor keeps an ever-growing list of all the weird things they do and tries to figure out whether they're because the twins are part human or part maia. He is frequently wrong.

"Wait, how much do half-elves need to eat?" "I, uh... hmm."

All of the Feanorian followers get really attached to the kids. They regularly argue about who gets to babysit. This is the origin of Elrond's Feanorian Murder-Elf Posse™️.

"Maedhros you cannot give them real swords!" "Why not?" "They're eight!"

The entirety of Amon Ereb freaks out every time the twins get sick. Even if it's just a cold. Yes, they've had human healers tell them it's nothing serious. No, that does not reassure them.

"Just do what I did!" *the twins stare up at him* "Actually no that's terrible advice don't do that."

M&M waking up late at night to see one of the twins, eldritch, glowing, levitating a few inches off the ground and freaking out, only for the kid to be like "dads I threw up :("

E&E shapeshift and all the Feanorians panic because "Oh Eru we lost them!!" Only for them to emerge a few hours later, very confused about why all the adults look so worried

Maedhros makes dad jokes you cannot tell me otherwise

"Well on the other hand... oh wait!"

E&E also hide in Maedhros's cloak all the time

And of course

"NO OATHS!"

[abowlofsourcream]

💫⏳ The Switch-A-Loop AU Guide ⏳💫

In this Au, Everyone Loops except Siffrin! This Au will focuses more on the party’s dynamics outside of just Sif. They try their best to figure out what is going on with the help of the mysterious Loop. They will find out more about the curse, the king, and most surprising their lovable rouge! Whether they want to or not…

Have fun!

Special Memories Here!

v The Characters v

- Mirabelle, The Chosen Heroine: Chosen by the Head Housemaiden, She first believes that the loops were the work of The Change God. A silly idea if you knew what she knew but a pleasant idea nonetheless! Besides, this way, she may be actually able to prove herself! This blessing would somehow give her the change she needed! At least… That’s what she thought… So why are they still here? What more does she need to prove? Maybe, the Head Housemaiden would know what happened to the world… Oh, if only there is a way to ask Siffrin what she said to him?

- Isabeau, The Beloved Warrior: You know it’s funny, he always thought that defeating the king would be more impactful. Like in those books you read as a kid! The hero goes on this incredible journey, growing stronger, falling in love, all that jazz! But boy, these Loops took the wind out of his sails! Like, he barely try’s to confess to Sif anymore (not that he feels any less about them). However, now knowing that beating the king wouldn’t stop the loops, the next best thing is to try other ways! Now he doesn’t like to brag, but he’s a pretty smart guy. Siffrin has something to do with what’s happening, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. Maybe, there is a way to help them help the others! It just might work!

- Odlie, The Wary Scholar: Well, this turns out to be quite more than she signed up for. Not to say that she entirely regrets meeting any of them, they are quite the enjoyable lot to be around… However, it seems these Loops are taking a toll for the lot of them. Fortunately, she is ready to find out what exactly is going on. Luckily, she has taken the time of taking notes, oh she loves her notes! Although, there is a part of the puzzle that at every angle doesn’t quite fit. Siffrin. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, they are in the middle of all of this Somehow… The fact that they don’t remember the loops, the way the king talks to them, even when he talks to the Housemaiden. The other’s try tell Odlie that it’s probably nothing, that Siffrin is in just as lost as the rest of them. But she just can’t let this go. She will find out why this is happening to her family, whether Siffrin is guilty or not…

- Bonnie, The Pure Hearted: Now, they may not understand what is happening and why all the adults are scared. But that is okay! The party snack leader is here to keep everyone safe, especially Frin. Frin can’t remember like the rest of them, so Bonnie has to make extra sure that he’s okay. Making sure he avoids all the tears, not to hit their hip against that counter, not to eat the pineapple and all that stuff! After all, it’s the least they can do. After what they did to… Anyway, they already somehow got Frin to let them hug him and sometimes he even call them “Bon Bon”! So, the other’s say that Firn and the king might be from that country that everyone forgot or something. Maybe, if you can get the King and Frin to talk… Maybe the King will help them! Like, What’s the worst that can happen! :)

- Loop, The Starstuck Guide: It’s Loop! The incredibly helpful and informative guide to this party! The only one that seems to know all about the loops. The party is unsure about what Loops wants out of this, and all the advice they give is weird/confusing! Also, they are kind of mean? Like, they try to comfort the party the best they can. However, when it comes to Siffrin… They don’t say anything out front about Sif but they do say things about him. Like pointing out all of his deaths or mistakes, lightly insulting him and making fun about how forgetful he is. It’s not great! Like who do they think they are. They just don’t know Siffrin like the rest of the party do… However, there is something familiar about this stranger.

- Siffrin, The DAMNED Traveler: ………………….. It’s all their fault………… just you wait……

[haveihitanerve]

Alfred Pennyworth is to Blame

Okay first- let me start this by saying I love Alfred Pennyworth. He is the one who raised the great Bruce Wayne, hes a badass, and hes a killer Grandfather. But thats just it. He’s a good grandfather. Not a good father. I see so many people giving Bruce shit for how he treats his kids and then praise alfred as the savior, the only good responsible adult in the world, the one who should have taken all the kids and left Bruce because he ruined them and Alfred would have done better. But thats not true. I fully believe all of the kids would have suffered under just Alfred’s care because, well, he doesn't get it. Bruce’s prime motivator for almost al of his children is that they have shared pain and grief and he helps them work through it. Alfred? So many people have said being a grandparent is easier than being a parent- and its true. Because you don't have to deal with actually raising this child. You get to be the “fun one”. You don't have rules, you spoil them, you give hugs and advice. The actual parent is the one who has to criticize and raise you and punish and teach everything. Do I think Bruce could have raised his kids on his own? Probably. Do I think Alfred definitely helped raise them to be as amazing as they are today? Hell yeah! But Bruce, and I firmly believe this, is such a “terrible” dad, because Alfred was his. Alfred, who doesn’t call Bruce son or even Bruce because first and foremost this boy is his charge, his master, not his child. Bruce was not raised on much affection from the butler, because thats who he was- a butler. Alfred does his best, its not his fault- this was a job that unwillingly turned into a lifelong dedication of suddenly raising a child, but its not enough. And people need to realize that. Maybe, Bruce isn't that great at communicating because he was raised by a mostly silent butler. Maybe Bruce doesn't say I love you quite that often because Alfred never did. Maybe Bruce is so strict because he was raised by a man from the military. But, lets take a look at his kids. Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson is arguably one of my favorite Batfam members, and he became the man he is, overcoming his trauma and being nice and funny and joyous, because he had Bruce in his life. “Robin needed to help take down the man who murdered his parents. ‘So he could turn out like you?’ So that he wouldn't.” Because Bruce took him in and helped him overcome his trauma, Dick became better. Dick is what Bruce would have become… if he had had a Bruce in his life. But he hadn’t. He had an Alfred. 

Anyway, just my thoughts. It makes me so mad when people are so quick to serenade Alfred and shower him with love and then shit on Bruce so hard… when its fucking alfreds fault. Well, not fault thats not the right word but still. Bruce is, unfortunately, my favorite DC person ever and its a hard battle to fight and defend but I’ll do it gladly everyday. Please stop hating on Bruce only to turn around and applaud Alfred. No. Thats not how this works. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. 

[yasemei]

Aventurine, Jing Yuan,Sunday, Blade and Wriothesley celebrating teen!reader’s birthday!!

🪷 Genre: Platonic + Found family

🌸 a/n: its my birthday so I decided to actually write something today!! :) english is not my native language so please excuse any errors

🪻 father figure characters / topaz, dr.ratio, yanqing, robin,kafka, silver wolf, elio and sigewinne mentioned / reader is a prisoner at fortress of meropide in wriothesley‘s part

~ Aventurine ~

Aventurine probably didnt celebrate many birthdays, including his own, but he really cared for you and wanted to make yours special.

He would buy something you really wanted, no matter how expensive it is, he is going to spoil you rotten.

He would also buy a very sweet and expensive cake for you, he always takes note of your preferences and likes, so he buys the most suited cake and gifts for you.

He tries to get a break from work to celebrate with you, if he cant manage to you would just celebrate at his office.

He has no problem if you want to celebrate just with him, but if you want more people and not feel lonely, he would try to get dr.ratio and topaz to celebrate with you. (with a lot of effort)

Ratio would be hard, but if youre a student of his and Aventurine manages to convince him enough, he would buy you a small gift and text happy birthday to you.

Topaz wouldnt mind celebrating your birthday, despite her not being too fond of Aventurine, it wouldnt take too much convincing to get her to celebrate your birthday. She would buy you a nice gift and personally wish you a happy birthday.

You two spend the all night having fun. He personally tucks you to bed when you get sleepy. (He might even carry you)

Seeing you grow up and enjoying your youthful years satisfies him than any gamble could ever do. He follows the path of preservation, he would do almost anything to preserve your youth and happiness— something that sadly wasnt done for him.

~ Jing Yuan ~

Jing Yuan is used to celebrating birthdays, he celebrates Yanqing’s every year after all.

He also buys you great gifts and cake. Like Aventurine he makes sure to remember your likes and preferences.

He is also pretty busy, but he would make time for you since its your birthday.

Yanqing would celebrate with you as well.

He tucks Yanqing and you to bed before going back to the endless paperwork on his desk.

He has a big soft spot for you and Yanqing, watching you two grow up makes him bittersweet, knowing that you two are going to be adults one day and not spend as much time with him as you do now.

But he believes that you two will be good and responsible adults thanks to his guidance.

~ Sunday ~

Sunday would be make extra time for you, also inviting Robin for your birthday

He would buy you a gift from a very luxurious store in Golden Hour, he even orders a special birthday cake for you.

Robin would personally sing happy birthday to you with her angelic voice

Sunday already has a tendency to dote on you, but not directly since he is busy, he leaves random gifts during the day and has bloodhounds watch over you to ensure your safety while he is busy working.

But for the sake of your birthday; you, him and Robin had lots of fun together.

~ Blade ~

Blade wasnt too sure what to for your birthday, ever since he adopted his new identity, he has been disconnected from people, only living as a weapon.

But you were special to him, he always felt the need to protect and care for you. Maybe you had bringed out the fatherly instincts that he didnt even know he had.

He goes to Silver Wolf and Kafka for advice.

He ultimately decides to make you a handmade gift, he used to make weapons after all, his crafting skills are incredible, maybe not as much as it was when he was still Yingxing, but he is still talented.

Kafka buys the cake and some accesories or clothing as gifts

Silver Wolf would hack into a rich persons account to get you something you really wanted.

Elio doesnt give you any missions, you and your fellow stellaron hunters celebrate together when they come back

Blade would carry you to bed when you get tired, he would even tuck you in if you ask nicely

~ Wriothesley ~

Wriothesley would buy a cake and gift for you from the overworld

You two and Sigewinne celebrate together by drinking tea and having cake

You and Wriothesley already spend a lot of time together since you work directely under him

Seeing you grow up safely makes him happy, even though you are a prisoner, he has a huge soft spot for you

He would also tuck you in, but he would do it secretly so the other inmates dont see him being a massive softie, he has a reputation to uphold after all and cant have the inmates misbehaving or maybe even using you against him

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hey do you give advice for writing romantic relationships between characters? If so, any tips on how to write a organic transition from friendship to romance. Any help would be appreciated thank you in advance:)

Writing Notes: Friends-to-Lovers

Two characters have maintained a relationship long enough to grow it from acquaintances to friendship. They have things in common. They respect each other. Consider…

Why are they only getting together now? Are they settling? Is it a timing thing? These have to be the two least romantic options in the history of romance.

What could be better than having someone know you for exactly who you are and deciding you’re irresistible? There is actually an answer to this, and it’s this: being able to trust your heart to someone who has already proven they’re worthy of it.

With enemies-to-lovers, the characters start out not liking each other. In friends-to-lovers, it’s a given that the reverse is true.

However, in the latter, it may not be enough for the love interest to be just likeable.

If your story is going to document someone’s exit from the friend zone, they also need to be desirable.

Consider some sex appeal here. You don’t want your readers picturing little Johnny or Jenny from next door who they always knew they should like. You want them picturing the person they thought they couldn’t like.

Example: Hugh Jackman’s playboy character in Someone Like You. While Ashley Judd was viewing him as undateable, the audience had time to properly fall in love with him. We knew we could trust him long before she did, and we were thrilled when her eyes were finally opened to his good qualities.

Why couldn’t one friend like the other before, but they can like them now?

With enemies-to-lovers, there are two things that need to happen. There’s the event that causes them to be at odds, and then there’s something that brings them together.

With friends-to-lovers, the transition can begin with a single change.

All you need is a reason for one person to see the other through new eyes.

Is one of them suddenly single? Did one of them dive into a pond Colin-Firth-Darcy-style, emerging with their shirt see-through and clinging to their unexpectedly well-defined abs? Did one-too-many tequilas work their magic?

It may be much easier to turn friends into lovers you can believe in and root for than it is for two characters who have been treating each other poorly.

All of our friends have characteristics that initially attracted us to them. As writers, all we have to do is deepen that attraction.

The stakes must be set.

With enemies-to-lovers, this is usually built into the story. Whatever has put the characters at odds can generally be relied on to test the relationship. But what about friends?

How do we raise their stakes? It can, of course, be built into the story just like with an enemies-to-lovers storyline.

But the cool thing about friends-to-lovers is that we have their entire history to mine from as well.

We also have a shared social circle to work with.

The stakes for friends-to-lovers feel more realistic and pressing.

A sexy fling with an enemy can be laughed off the next day, but a failed romance with a close friend can change the landscape of your life.

D.A. Stinson et al. (2022) examined how romance develops, as well as how studies have covered the progression in a piece entitled “The Friends-to-Lovers Pathway to Romance.”

They begin by recognizing that although there are multiple pathways to romance, the science of relationship study does not reflect this variety; instead focusing primarily on romance that builds between strangers as opposed to friends. They note that this type of concentration might make sense if friends-first romances were atypical or unfavorable, but note that their research reveals the opposite.

Conducting a meta-analysis of seven samples of university students and crowdsourced adults, Stinson et al. found that two-thirds described being friends first, which was also the preferred method of initiation among university students. Taken together, their studies affirm that although overlooked by relationship science to some extent, being friends before the initiation of a romantic relationship is not only prevalent, but preferred.

Pathway From Platonic to Romantic

Stinson et al. note that relationship scientists recognize at least 2 kinds of intimacy.

One is friendship-based,defined as “a cognitive and emotional experience comprising psychological interdependence, warmth, and understanding, related to the companionate love that nurtures long-term intimate bonds.”

The other is passion-based intimacy, defined as “a primarily emotional experience comprising romance and positive arousal, related to the passionate love that typifies novel, and often sexual, relationships.”

Stinson et al. also note that the dominant dating script proposes men’s passion as the sensation that sparks initial interaction between potential paramours, after which time passion-based intimacy and friendship-based intimacy develop concurrently. But does this reflect reality? Apparently, the answer is a matter of perspective and perception—of the individuals involved, as well as interested observers.

Romantic Rumors

Many cross-friendships spark more than romance; they spark rumors. Researchers have found that celebrity websites often promote the idea that men and women cannot be “just friends.” Andrea McDonnell and Clare M. Mehta (2016) explored this issue in a piece entitled “We Could Never Be Friends: Representing Cross-Sex Friendship on Celebrity Gossip Web Sites.” They note that although psychological scholarship is mixed on the topic of cross-sex friendship, media representations often reflect the homosocial norm, which asserts a preference to spend time with members of one’s same sex, implying that cross-sex relationships are necessarily sexual in nature.

Regardless of individual views on the homosocial norm, many employees can relate to McDonnell and Mehta’s observation that cross-sex friendships can spark suspicion and scrutiny by others who assume such relationships are romantic or sexual. This is true even in a day and age where they are not only common in general, but commonplace in the workplace.

For coworkers, neighbors, or “just” friends who find themselves wondering if there might be the potential to move a relationship to the next level, slow and steady positive development of trust and common interests often evolve not just in the presence of friends and family, colleagues and coworkers, but with their full endorsement. As demonstrated by many couples who have successfully navigated this “dateless” path down the aisle to the altar, easy, comfortable, relationships often develop into healthy romantic, lifelong partnerships of love and respect.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hope this helps with your writing :)