#and I always enjoyed reading fanfic

[meownotgood]

What character did you write about/like the most before you got into CSM?

when I started writing for aki that was the first x reader fanfic I ever wrote.... I think he was also the first character I became super hyperfixated on but.... I was pretty into jjk before I read csm and I really liked gojo and toji, I also liked connor from dbh and seven from mystic messenger, and my favorite character to read fanfic about when I was young was sebastian from black butler hahaha

[ao3-shenanigans]

Shout out to all the beginning authors, don’t be afraid to write badly and to write for yourself

we will love you regardless

[myokk]

fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘

I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.

His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?

He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.

As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.

His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)

First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.

Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.

“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”

“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.

He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.

Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.

Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.

His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.

(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)

Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.

“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?

(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)

“I was looking for you.”

Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -

“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”

“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.

[luxaofhesperides]

Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?” 

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well. 

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

[eliashirsch]

God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (4/3)

More Top Gun fic recs:)) Different pairings ahead.

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

4. Honorary Mentions (4/3)

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!

Honorary Mentions

gold rush by gamerring @asimmutableasgravity

All his life, Jake Seresin has wanted to live his life as loud as possible. So that when he dies, people can place flowers on his casket. When the light hits him, sunbaked and smiling and grinning. He's whole and happy and everything he could ever want. He bites down on his teeth. Later, he hunches over the porcelain, petals falling out of his mouth, and is already one step in his grave. - Flowers, fighter pilots and the true fatality of your feelings spilling out.

Jake angst:)) And here’s another one from gamerring:

it's nice to have a friend by gamerring

"Will you marry me?" Ice is on his knees. His posture screams military, but his face is genuine. His eyebrows are furrowed in worry and a hesitant smile plays at his lips. The ring sits in a green velvet box. The band is gold and shiny, with a diamond inlaid in the middle. The rock seems to glow under the sunset, and Maverick's heart starts beating against his chest. This- it's spectacular. It's breathtaking. It's not for him. He bites his cheek for a microsecond, and then forces a smile."That's great. She can't say no to that." And a traitorous part of his soul hopes she does. - Three times Maverick should have said something, and the one time he did.

Just read the summary:) (This is canon.)

Lessons in pushing boundaries by will_thewisp

Maverick never needed lessons in pushing boundaries. Not if those boundaries are about going faster, further or screwing up on an ever increasing scale, because he'd run off the edge of the world before he'd let a thought that scared him shitless take root in his mind. It was enough that it was already in his heart. Or Maverick crashes the Darkstar and needs a very long time to learn that there's things that can and should be fixed. And that he's always had the tools to do it.

Don’t forget a tissue when reading this!

Amen by demiclar @demiclar

"What do you want done with your body when you die?" Pete Mitchell grieves his best friend.

Can you tell I love Mav angst?:)

Vanilla Milk by Specter_Ross

After the mission, Rooster is struggling to sleep so Maverick pulls some old methods out from when Bradley was a kid, in hopes of helping him.

I never get tired of reading MavDad and Bradley:)

A Perch Built for Two by chase_acow @cowsalot

Rooster is well known for keeping his own company, but between Maverick's reemergence and the suicide mission, Hangman manages to weasel his way into Bradley's attention. He's never let an alpha so close to him before, but Hangman might be the best choice - experienced and unlikely to ask for more than Bradley was willing to give. Unfortunately for him, it's Bradley who wants more, and he has no idea how to ask for it.

Another win for Hangster!

A Little Unconventional by McDanno50

Maverick didn’t know how he ended up here a month after the mission – on his back with his legs spread for not one, but two, hungry alphas. These alphas wanted Maverick so much that they no longer fought but worked together all in the name of mutual pleasure. It felt too good to be true, like a fevered dream conjured up by a broken mind. But even if he couldn’t believe his eyes, he had four other senses to rely on. A self-indulgent fic in which Omega!Maverick gets fucked by Alpha!Bradley and Alpha!Jake. That's literally it.

Mav/Bradley/Jake:)))))

Not Clamorous For Pardon by Arsenic @arsenicjade33

Okay, but what if the Navy didn't outlaw flogging as a punishment in 1896? Asking for a friend.

Another one of my favorite tropes: Mav being bullied by the Navy:(

still dangerous by cygnettine

Where was he? Jake was to his right, Bradley in front of him, the girls between their dads. Someone was missing. He was missing. Why was he missing? He was supposed to be there; that was a family dinner and he was family, he was his whole soul, why wasn’t he there? *** Maverick loses himself and wanders helplessly in his own mind until someone finally comes to his rescue.

Mav has Alzheimer's Disease:(

take a chance on the edge of life by Lacerta

It was a suicide mission. Of course they didn't succeed on their first try. - When Maverick dies, he loops back to the morning before.

An Edge of Tomorrow AU. Love this one. 

you've got the win in your bag by discosleaze @paulmezcal

“I’m going to go in and get something pierced, and if you’re a good boy, it’ll be my nipple. If you’re not, it’ll be my tongue.” Speaking of tongues, Bradley just about swallows his. “Why would that be a bad thing?” he croaks out, not enjoying how amused Jake is, mocking, even. “Well, Bradshaw, because I wouldn’t be able to blow you for weeks afterwards.” Jake contemplates a second piercing, Bradley contemplates nothing.

asdfghfghjkjhgfdsadfg. This one’s too hot for me.

How Big? by thenofutureshoe

"Most people would have had to give themselves a pep-talk, most people would have been nervous or unsure of the whole thing, Maverick Mitchell was not most people. He was a fucking power bottom and proud of it. This was not his first rodeo, pun intended. And he always got his man." Once Maverick hears the story behind Slider's callsign, it sounds more like a challenge than anything else.

This one… I never thought their difference in size could be this hot…

a dream of crashing by thefireplanet

Maverick buys a plane. Somehow, this becomes Iceman’s problem.

THIS ONE’S NOT COMPLETED! But it’s still so fun to read and the characterization is spot on!

and the bunny goes 𝒽𝑜𝓅, 𝒽𝑜𝓅, 𝒽𝑜𝓅 by Meadow_Wanderer

Contrary to expectation, he rarely measures time by the number of years he's lived without his father. Instead, he appraises in happenings. Every birthday, school graduation, and precious firsts; every milestone passing as the memory of his father becomes fainter and fainter until finally he reaches the last occasion where the end and the beginning meet, the son and the sire a breath's width apart, like reaching to touch one's reflection in the mirror. The very same one he'll face in just shy of a few hours.

Weird and fun!

you are not alone (i watch over you) by redwithlove

“Bradley, do you remember the time when you were eight and you wouldn't let me near your Pops for two days?” “What, really? Why?” “Yeah, for two whole days, can you believe it? And it all started over a can of Pringles.” Or—Bradley with Ice and Maverick over the years.

Mav and Ice and Bradley being family:) My favorite genre of topgun fics:))

PHEW! That's all the fics I've got! Thanks for reading until the end! Don't forget to leave a comment on these fics if you enjoyed them!

Here's my google doc for all four categories! >> God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions: A Masterlist

[melkintoyou]

there's a blue light in my best friend's room

continuation of a stoner!mark ask word count: 1.5k

"Can you uh do something for me?" He whispered, trying to hold himself together.

"Mhmmm" you bit your lip and nodded.

"Can you be a good girl and touch yourself for me?" 

Silence fell around the room, air thick with desire. All you could hear was the neediness in Mark’s voice and your own heart beating in your ears. You felt shyness mixed with excitement palpitate through your body. Mouth dry, you gulped.

Looking up at Mark, you fiddled with the bottle cap between your fingers before twisting it shut and putting the bottle away. You blinked at him, trying to find a single coherent response to utter at his request. But your mind was empty.

“Babyyy show me what you like.” He added, voice still low.

Enchanted by his words, it seemed as though your hands were moving before your mouth could catch up. You began to palm your breasts and they felt heavy in your small hands. Sighing at the feeling, your hands made their way to your torso and into your shorts. It was only when your fingers grasped how wet you had become, you snapped back to reality. Sliding your fingers through your folds, you let out a shy giggle.

“Mark..” 

“I’m so wet..” You gasped, sliding two fingers inside you to really gather up all the evidence that you could. “See!” You brought your fingers closer to the camera, to show Mark how he made you feel. You separated your fingers that were still connected through your sticky arousal that glistened in the blue light. 

Mark swore he was seeing stars. “Fuck baby.. Can you taste it for me?”

He pulled himself out his boxers, still slowly stroking himself. His eyes were fixed on you, when you lazily brought your digits to your mouth and wrapped your lips around them. Letting out an “mmm” sound with your eyes shut, you did as you were told. A good girl. 

You opened your eyes to meet Mark’s hooded gaze and his hands languidly stroking his dick. You never imagined seeing him like this for the first time, through a screen. There was an ache in your core, longing to touch him, right there, in that very moment but alas, distance was your enemy tonight. 

“It’s pretty” a shy whisper fell from your mouth as you got on your knees to remove your shorts, leaving you in just underwear. Mark took his bottom lip between his teeth, holding back a smile at your comment. You could hear his breathing grow heavier by the second. 

“And so are you, turn around lemme see..” He licked his lips in anticipation. And when you turned around, sitting on your heels. Words like “dang” “baby” “fuck” rolled off Mark’s tongue and he babbled on about how pretty you look and how much he can’t wait to have you. Impatience and neediness was growing in his voice, you savoured every second of it. 

Resting your hand on a pillow, your mind had a light bulb moment when you turned to your side. You grabbed the pillow and placed it under you. Now straddling the pillow, you looked at Mark with eyes saying “Can I?” 

You could see his passive movements becoming more mindful when he gently spat in his hand and coated his heavy dick, grabbing it more intently than before. “You’re gonna drive me crazy baby..” He let out a sigh and light squelching noises filled the room with his airy breaths.

You tried to match his rhythm as you began to grind yourself onto the pillow. Heat radiating in your body, made your brain melt with each movement. Every time your clit rolled against the edge of the pillow, you felt dizzy. You let out a light sigh, rolling your hips.

Mark’s eyes scanned your body, the way you threw your head back, letting out soft moans.

“You sound so pretty baby, lemme hear you. Don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and his eyes trailed down to the strap of your tank, slowly slipping down your shoulder. Exposing your collar bones and the shape of your breast from the side.

Seeing your frame, outlined by the blue light was doing something to him. He fixated on your hard nipples, poking through the tank. He prayed for it to keep slipping further so he can get a view of your bare skin.

And, as his wish is granted, Mark thrusted up with a groan. “God, you’re so beautiful.” 

It was late at night, the world around you was covered in muted greys, blues and silence. It felt absurd to be so needy that you both had to chase your pleasure through a screen. However, when it came to your feelings for Mark, nothing made sense.

Seeing his name pop up on your phone screen, made your head spin. The way your name sounded a little sweeter, in his mouth. A little safer. The way his eyes lit up when he saw you or the way he always held your hand and kissed randomly. Even his smell. You were crushing hard and you were down bad. Your mind was full of him.

Thinking about the day he kissed you. The way his lips delicately brushed yours before his tongue hungrily entered your mouth. Your movements got harder and Mark’s mouth fell open when his eyes found your hips. The way they were illuminated in the blue light, felt like a dream. The crease where your hips end and thigh begins had all of Mark’s attention as he worked his length. He wanted so desperately to be between those pillowy thighs that he contemplated leaving the tour half way through, just to be buried inside you. 

“You’re doing so good for me baby” Mark coo’d, fucking into his fist. Mark was always so good with his words, his voice was raspy and slightly slurred from the thc and it went to your core. Your thighs gripped the pillow tighter as you fell forwards on your hands. You imagined using Mark’s chest for support. You imagined, running your hand up his chest until you reached his throat and how it would feel to grab it. Maybe give it a gentle squeeze whilst he's inside of you. Would he enjoy it? Would he twitch inside you, hitting your spot extra hard? Your mind trailed off, making you unravel by the second.

“That’s right baby, fuck yourself good for me.. show me how you cum.” Mark continued to egg you and you thought all of this could only be a result of madness. The madness of desire you both felt towards each other. Everything felt euphoric and you felt your orgasm approaching. The heat in your core was slowly rising up, making your thighs shake and your moans louder. 

“You sound so pretty baby.. keep going” Mark continued to talk you through it as he chased his own high.

You could see that he was also close when his lips parted with low moans. You watched his shoulder flex with every pump of his fist, he looked so majestic. 

“Need.. to.. feel you” finally being able to form a sentence, you were beginning to get loud.

With each motion, your breath got heavier and curse words started to roll off your tongue. “m’close” is all you can get out before a moan from the back of your throat took over your entire room and Mark’s. Finally hitting your peak, your thighs started to shake uncontrollably and more moans followed after. 

“You’re so loud baby, you sound so nasty.. wanna fill you up and make you scream my name” Mark did his best to match your rhythm until he bucked his hips up into his fist and finished with a groan.

His release, all over his stomach and hands. He was left in a daze, watching you still riding out your orgasm. And then falling onto you stomach, you were both left both panting. 

“Wow” is all Mark could muster up, trying to catch his breath.

“That was…” His lips curled into a smile and you mirrored his expression. 

“That was something” You both giggled in the comfort of your beds, feeling safe and tucked away from the outside world. A little bubble of just you and Mark.

“Babe, you should really get some sleep, baby, you’re going to be tired.” You whine, realising the time as worry creeped into your mind. 

Mark’s left hand flew to his chest, fake offended. “Wow, she only wanted me for my body. I’m texting the homies right now, letting them know I have been tricked.” He said dramatically, making you roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, get some sleep so we can do this again tomorrow, you piece of meat.” You wink, making you both laugh. 

“Alright babe, meet me by the fountain in my dreams? We’ll take it from there?” His eyes now sincere. 

“Of course, as always.” You shoot him a warm smile, feeling butterflies in your stomach from your sweet exchanges. “Good night y/n. Sleep well.” Mark brings his phone to his face and kisses the camera. 

You giggle once again at his cute antics, “Good night goofy. I hope you sleep well too.” 

[clowningaroundmars]

morales twins hcs

i'm absolutely in love with the idea of miles42 and miles1610 being twins, i'm so glad most of the fandom has basically adopted 42 lmao

some of my own twins headcanons, just random stuff to add onto other ppls hcs ive seen:

☆ 42 loves his mamí absolutely but def acts the most like his dad, and haaaates when anyone points it out. it's the most obvious when 42 gets mad, he sounds EXACTLY like his father then lol

☆ in fact, the twins polar opposite personalities is probs bc 1610 takes after his mom's temperament more, while 42 is as stoic, stubborn and slightly dorky as his dad is

☆ whenever the boys made each other cry (by accident or otherwise) they did the typical little kid thing and tried immediately comforting the other. now that they're older 1610 handles his emotions better and is mature when talking about them, but 42 is the one who comforts 1610 more often

more below ↓

☆ as well as staying on top of his academics, 42 also plays basketball and trains in a couple martial arts studios after school. 1610 is taller than 42 bc of the spider bite but 42 has always been slightly bigger and more muscular than 1610 since he's the athlete. whenever the family attends 42's boxing matches, jeff gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu from back when he attended his own brother's matches before

☆ they both got thru school p okay, not many incidents of bullying mostly bc if anyone did try, 42 would put a stop to that nonsense immediately. 42 loves his bro with his whole heart and was glad to pick a fight with anyone who gave him any trouble at all. the whole neighborhood knew it too bc the only person allowed to bully 1610 is 42 himself!

☆ in fact, 42 doesn't win the lottery to enter visions in the first place, which saddened both brothers when they found out. so because they're at separate schools now, 42 makes sure his twin knows that if any fuckery is afoot at visions that he'd be more than happy to roll up and dogwalk any fool who tries it. 1610 laughs him off but knows his bro has got his back for sure

☆ 42 likes to pretend 1610 is the nerdy one, but they are both very big anime and manga nerds. every time they hit up any bookstore, they both make a beeline for the manga section and argue over who's gonna read the newest one first (they have to share cuz those books cost some moneeyyyy, man)

☆ 1610 and 42 love their uncle to pieces, OFC. they both pick up separate traits from him, even. 42 was inspired to start martial arts and boxing from watching videos on old digital cameras that aaron hung onto thru the years. they were of a much younger aaron back in his boxing days, when his family went to his matches and recorded them from the seats. 1610 was inspired to pick up graffiti and then even started doodling in notebooks bc of aaron

☆ 1610 is def the social butterfly and easily the most popular kid on the block by virtue of how friendly and outgoing he is. 42 is more introverted and keeps a small circle of friends, but everyone is cool with him nonetheless since they fuck with his twin bro

☆ since 42 stays at home the most (lol he a homebody) he picks up cooking much better than 1610 thanks to him staying in the kitchen to help his mom make dinner while they watch telenovelas together. 42 also knows how to dance bachata and salsa much better than 1610 too

☆ both twins love physics and math but 42 is more hardware-inclined. 1610 is about software, data, and formulas. 42 is good at taking things apart, putting things together, building and engineering. he kinda takes after his uncle aaron that way, and drove his parents nuts as a lil kid when he got his hands on radios, computers, clocks, etc

☆ 1610 loves softer brighter music like JID, steve lacy, smino, frank ocean, kid cudi, post malone, and nujabes. 42 is always bumping harder shit like pop smoke, waka flocka, zillakami, three 6 mafia, benny the butcher and some oldies like paul wall, wu tang clan, biggie smalls, MF DOOM and big KRIT. they tease each other's music tastes a lot since they're polar opposites in almost every way

☆ they actually have a shared playlist where they add new music they like (probs on some e-1610 spotify or soundcloud equivalent since everything is slightly skewed on e-1610 tbh). both of them check it periodically, and 42 is the more frequent contributor

☆ they both make art but 1610 is the artsier kid for sure. 42 doodles occasionally but he's not as enthusiastic about it as his twin is. they both go around the city tagging walls whenever they have any free time, though. 1610 loves colors, expressive styles and is good at coming up with cool ways to draw text. 42's lines, accuracy and technical skill can never be beat

☆ 1610 has superpowers, sure, but his fighting skills are trash! 42 was always the scrappy one, not 1610, so he shows his twin how to properly throw punches and other useful fighting knowledge. it def comes in handy in the future

☆ jeff loves his sons to death but he often finds himself butting heads the most with 42 since they're so similar, it kinda drives them both nuts. it def gets worse once aaron starts gossiping abt what jeff used to be like when they were kids, giving 42 plenty of ammo. they love each other but their relationship is just as complicated as it is between jeff and 1610, and 42 would be lying if he said he wasn't affected by the rift between his dad and uncle himself

☆ the minute the twins turn 16, 42 goes out and gets his drivers license on the first try (computer quiz AND road test aced) and rubs it in 1610's face almost constantly. 1610 likes to throw back that there's no parking space for another car on their block, so he can't even get his own car even if he wanted to anyways

��� whenever the boys really fight, the whole city seems to know. they squabble a lot obvi, they're brothers. but the very few times they've given each other the silent treatment like for real, everyone in the family tries to get them to make up since it's unsettling to see two peas in a pod be so hostile with each other

☆ and since they've always been attached at the hip, 1610 being enrolled into visions felt. weird. everyone thought 1610 was gonna take it the hardest but surprisingly 42 had a harder time adjusting since he always saw his bro in the hallways at school, and was so used to him knowing the latest gossip of anybody in their grade. without 1610 around as often, 42 becomes even more withdrawn than usual

rio looks up from the pot suddenly, glancing at the time. dinner was almost ready and she… hadn't seen not hide nor tail of her son this evening. he returned home from school a couple hours earlier, choosing to skip going to his boxing class to shut himself in his room.

fine. teenagers can be moody sometimes and rio would rather keep her moody son at home where she can keep an eye on him, rather than worry about what he's getting up to on the streets.

strange thing is, though... rio hadn't heard a single noise come out of that room all night. 42 usually liked to have at least some music playing, maybe video game noises out of his nintendo... oh, what was it called again? whatever, that nintendo thing he played on sometimes.

rio placed the lid on the pot and lowered the flame a bit before making her way over to her twin sons' bedroom door, hesitating a bit when she noticed no light was filtering out from the bottom either. okay... that was weird, too. neither of her sons ever went to bed before dinner. ever.

the one time rio dared to try and send her sons to bed without dinner years ago-- as punishment for fighting right there in the kitchen that time-- both twins hollered so loud they got concerned knocks on their front door from various different neighbors. never again, rio remembered thinking that time.

now, the bedroom door stands oddly quiet and completely hollow without any signs of life behind it. rio knocked anyways, hoping against hope itself that 42 didn't go ahead and sneak out of the house without her knowledge. if he did sneak out, he's grounded for 3 months, rio thinks to herself mostly as reassurance. she nervously picks at a nail and strains to hear anything behind the wood.

she thinks she hears a groan and decides to try her luck by slowly opening the door. hopefully he's not in there... y'know, doing teenage boy things, either. dios mío.

rio swings the door open to...

...a completely pitch-black room, save for the sliver of streetlight filtering in past a crack in the window curtains and casting an eerie yellow glow on anything it could touch. it is cold, and also deathly quiet.

rio is shocked.

she walks over to the right side of the room where 42's bed is pushed up against the corner, next to the windows. on that bed lies a big lump, buried under several layers of blankets. the lump stirs.

rio crosses her arms. "mijo, mi amor. are you sleeping? …pero qué te pasa, papí?"¹

42 rolls onto his back and glares sleepily at his concerned mother standing at his bedside. it's dark in the room, but rio's face is illuminated by the living room lights pouring in from the open door. she's wearing a tilted smile, but coupled with the worry lines on her forehead, it isn't fooling anyone.

42 slowly closes his eyes, chin still under the covers, and lets out the most world-weary sigh rio has ever heard coming out of someone as young as him. if it weren't coming from her own son, she might have even laughed.

she immediately sits down, lifting the cover off of 42's chin to check his temperature all over his face. he tries to wriggle away.

"maaaaaa, stop..." he grumbles, trying to pull the covers up higher over his head. "'m not sick, mamí, forreal… chill."

rio leans on a hand. "¿si no 'ta enfermó pues qué es?² what's wrong?"

42 doesn't answer for a bit and rio exhales through her nose. " 'moré, what are you doing in this pitch-black room all by yourself? no light, no music, no nothing. what's wrong? you look like you're on a death bed!"

42 finally opens his eyes again, and blinks a few times as he says, "nothing, ma. seriously, i'm just... tired. that's all. i'm fine."

"you don't look 'fine' 42, you look like 2 seconds away from flatlining."

another sigh from the boy. rio rolls her eyes and places her hand on his forehead again, then strokes his cheek.

"is it 1610? hmm?" rio asks 42. she asks so unbelievably gently, as if by only mentioning his brother's name she would shatter something in the room. a mirror or something.

42's heart clenches at the love and care his mother is showing around this particular topic. it was true, and he couldn't even deny it. having 1610 in the house less and less every week, not seeing him in the hallways at their local high school, receiving sparser and shorter replies to his texts... it was all building up in his chest and the dam was pretty close to bursting. especially now as his mom was lovingly stroking his cheek as she checked in with him. how embarassing. rio wouldn't see him cry, not right now. he closed his eyes and willed the tears away, for her sake.

miraculously, 42's voice didn't crack or waver when he said, "yeah. yeah, i miss 'im."

rio crooned something saccharine in spanish and placed a kiss on her son's forehead. she saw right through his cold tough guy act, as expected. with how much of a mama's boy 42 was, it would've been impossible not to. they spent way too much time together for her to miss how he dragged his feet getting ready for school in the mornings, how he's been skipping martial arts and basketball practice more often lately, and how unenthusiastic he's been in general.

rio chuckles as she lays her cheek on 42's forehead for a second before sitting back up. "ay, bendito. 42, you know your brother is just down a few blocks from here. why don't you go visit him soon?"

42 shuffles under the covers. he's unsure if he should even admit this, but he proceeds anyways. "uhm. he's not answering my texts lately, so." he feels strangely guilty about this, like he just snitched on his twin somehow even though he has no reason to suspect that at all.

rio sighs and looks off into the distance, bracing herself for what she's about to say. she looks back down. "yeah. i know. he doesn't answer mine, either. i was hoping he was talking to you, but... well. "

something in 42 stirs a bit. "i bet he thinks he's in some fancy private school, around rich kids, now he's too good for us," it's a weak attempt at a joke, but rio smiles down at him anyways.

"don't worry. the second he gets home this weekend, he's on house arrest. okay? he's gonna be chained to you the whoooole time. and i'm keepin' watch."

it's not much, but 42 still takes that little bit of hope and holds it gently in his mind.

"the second he walks through that door, i'm tackling him. i don't care." 42 smiles at the thought.

rio laughs, kisses his forehead again and stands up. "dinner is almost ready, by the way." she gives him a look. "you better eat with me tonight, because your brother is at school and your dad is doing overtime tonight. okay? okay."

42 sighs deeply to wake himself up a bit more as he sits up and scratches at his durag. "yeah, yeah. 'm comin', ma!"

¹ "but what is going on with you, papí?" (papí being a common term of affection for a boy in spanish, it doesn't always mean "dad" lol)

² "if you're not sick, then what is it?"

☆ until they get "too old" for halloween, the morales twins ALWAYS wear matching costumes. every year. every single year, no matter what. what they usually end up wearing changes every year and they aaaaaalways argue over it, of course. notable costumes so far: batman and superman (age 13), two ninja turtles (age 9) (im thinking mikey and donatello bc of personality but lbr rio most likely forbade either of them to be leonardo bc the twins would deadass get into a fist fight over it), tom and jerry (age 2), mario and luigi (age 7), woody and buzz (age 5), peter pan and captain hook (age 10), and-- rio's favorite-- thing 1 and thing 2 (age 4)

☆ 42 was surprisingly always very popular with the girls at school. in middle school, 1610 was the geeky one with braces and acne. 42 got off relatively easy in that regard and as a result was labeled "a heartbreaker" from the jump, which annoyed him. he has no interest in dating whatsoever and swore to never get into a relationship before graduating high school. he's got his mom and brother to take care of and he's going places after high school, damnit! 1610 on the other hand is a huge romantic and has a crush on a new person almost every year of school, easily

☆ the literal second 1610 set foot in the house after his spider bite, 42 was all over him asking a million questions since they both have that supernatural twintuition, and 42 sussed him out immediately. 1610 obviously had to come clean and tell his brother he was spiderman just like he told ganke, otherwise he was never gonna be able to change into his spider suit at home (plus they share a room, so. there's that)

1610 didn't even get to close their bedroom door all the way before his twin leaped up from his own bed and stalked over.

"óye, bro. what's up? what happened at visions?" 42 circled his brother, squinty-eyed in the exact same way their mom is when she's suspicious. 1610 dropped his bag next to his bed and plopped down on his sheets, trying to put some distance between them.

"uhhhh what're you talkin' about?" he tries casually, and immediately regrets it.

"uhhhhh what're you talkin' about?" 42 mocks. "don't play dumb with me. you KNOW what i'm talkin' about, stupid. first, you answer, like, none of my texts ever. then dad comes home sayin' you never let him talk face-to-face when he visited you a couple days ago. mamí has been texting and calling you nonstop, no answer either. you are a brand new person now, huh? qué te pasa, yo?"

1610 hunched his shoulders as he got up and slumped over to his desk. he was quietly weighing his options, nervously rearranging papers and sketches on the wooden table, wondering how he was going to break it to his brother that he was--

"lemme guess. you have superpowers now," 42 says easily. he crosses his arms triumphantly when big round amber eyes suddenly turn up to his face.

1610 searches his face for any hint of a joke. no... no way. did his brother just...?

"you're playin' with me. no way. how did you--?"

42's eyes widen. "wait, are you being deadass right now?" he threw his head back and crowed with laughter. "that was just a guess!"

1610 leaped forward and pushed his hand onto 42's mouth, shutting him up. "heeyyy hey hey hey hey shhhhh, man. damn, could you possibly be any louder? look," he took his twin by the shoulders and gave him a slight shake, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "mom and dad can never know anything about this. okay? anything. not a word, you understand?"

42 pushes his brother off. "ok-ay man, cool it. i promise. we can shake on it, even."

wordlessly, they did their super secret handshake they came up with and perfected in the 4th grade in lieu of hooking their pinkies together. it was the morales shake, a move that binds them to secrecy and keeping promises til death. this was serious business. 1610 relaxes a bit once they're done.

"... okay. and i mean it, pencil braids. if you even breathe a word about this, or even think about--!"

"if you don't just tell me already, goddamn."

with a meaningful look thrown at his brother's way, 1610 raises an arm silently. 42 looks back expectantly.

1610 shoots a web up. he jumps up, using the web as a bungee rope to help him flip and land feet-first onto the ceiling. once his sneakers touch their ceiling, he stands up... upside-down. he stares at his brother and his brother stares back, mouth agape.

"niiiiiiice," 42 leans back and grins up at his twin brother, spiderman.

☆ 1610 is glad he has someone besides ganke to talk to about spiderman stuff, though. his brother listens way more attentively than his roommate anyways, and even tries to help sometimes esp when 1610 needs a quick distraction so he can switch from spiderman back into his regular clothes before the parents notice

☆ 42 is surprisingly cool abt his twin bro being spiderman, actually. even when they're texting 42 is careful not to imply 1610 is spiderman, and often calls stuff in to the police station if 1610 webs anyone up and lets him know. he also gets very good at bandaging up wounds quickly

☆ 42 is a hardass on the outside and contains his emotions much better than his twin, but he's kinda different around his family, since he loves them a lot. he jokes around a lot with them, esp around 1610. they also love pranking their parents, and are p creative at coming up with ways to make everyone laugh

☆ i personally picture 42's personality being sort of like huey's from the boondocks, especially around other adults. he becomes withdrawn and speaks very clearly and directly, and is very shy around strangers. some ppl mistake that as him having an attitude problem but his friends and family know better. only difference between huey and 42 is that 42 isn't nearly as woke lmfao

☆ meanwhile, 1610 becomes a motormouth around strangers and is quick to hug and kiss random family members at family reunions. as a lil kid, he'd always be the one up at the counter ordering for the both of them and chatting with the cashiers, or bus drivers, or whoever. as he gets older and used to the spiderman thing, he chats and jokes with randoms a lil less. he has to save the good material for when the mask is on

☆ 42 is a better writer than he is an artist, actually. he has notebooks filled with poetry and lyrics he scribbles down on post-it notes just to stick them in there for safekeeping. he's also been working on a sci-fi story since he was in 6th grade in absolute secrecy; he doesn't want a single soul to see it. he'd be mortified if anyone saw the nerdy shit he comes up with

☆ even tho 1610 has never fought anyone or been scrappy with anyone else, he's very good at wrestling and dodging punches thanks to his brother.

☆ 42 is the more fashion-inclined twin, even tho they're both sneakerheads. 42 just pays more attention to accessories, the fit of his clothing, how to pair the right shoes with the right jacket. 1610 throws on anything comfortable and calls it a day, and it gets even worse after he becomes spiderman. 42 clowns his brother SO HARD after he finds him wearing yellow sweatpants with an oversized red adidas hoodie and a green puffer jacket once (it was when 1610 came home from fighting a shapeshifting lizard that tried to take over cypress hills. the sweatpants were on backwards)

☆ 1610's sense of humor is geeky and he always tries too hard with his quips and jokes. he usually gets "secondhand embarrassment" chuckles from ppl. 42's style of comedy is a mix of dry humor and unintentionally being funny. this dude will say something clever with the straightest face ever and have the ENTIRE room in stitches without even meaning to

☆ just to nail home how different they are, even tho they share a room, you can tell EXACTLY which half of their room begins and ends. 1610's half is cluttered, vibrant, covered in posters and action figures, collages and trinkets on every available surface. 42's is as clean as a hospital room, and he ALWAYS makes his bed every morning. 42 has a poster or 2 hung up but he's not much for decorating in general. he's more into alphabetizing his bookshelf and looking for more efficient storage to put under his bed

☆ when jeff looks at his sons, he sees aaron and himself and sometimes it scares him. when the boys were around 12 (the Evil Year) he made SURE to sign them up for camp trips that summer and keep them close together as much as possible. he hates to see his boys drift apart at all and is the 1st one to call it out if he sees it. he just doesn't want his boys to end up like he and his brother did…

☆ … and then other times? it genuinely makes him feel a combination of irritation and also fondness bc sometimes 1610 and 42 really really remind him of aaron and himself, esp when they were young. ESPECIALLY when they argue. in every playful slap on the shoulder, every arbitrary competition started out of nowhere, every sleepy brother slowly sliding onto the other's shoulder during nighttime car rides, he sees it. he sees them, and then he sees his past. and with every little difference between the boys slowly cracking open like a chasm with each passing day, sometimes he thinks he can even see his future.

☆ 42 is cool or whatever but i also hc he's kinda… weird sometimes. it gets worse when his twin bro goes off to visions, he keeps staring at walls while sitting in dark rooms and eating at weird hours of the day. rio caught him fast asleep practically hanging off the window sill one night, and another time jeff found him having an entire conversation with a brick wall once while on patrol. 42 refuses to answer any questions

☆ after 1610 gets into visions, becomes spiderman, tells his parents abt his plans to go to princeton, etc... 42 eventually starts feeling a type of way (a jealous way…) their parents also seem to pay attention to 1610 more whenever he's home just to add insult to injury. he knows he's not supposed to, but he often finds himself thinking about the prowler gloves and schematics aaron left behind. he managed to grab them and hide them in a gym bag one day while helping his parents clear out aaron's apartment. the tech currently lives under his bed…

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the recent ask game, i’m really curious about your take on 7 + 8 :P

for the choose violence ask game!

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how the fandom acts about them?

i'll be so honest: Jason Todd. i know there's a lot of argument of "who has the worst fans" and i think that question is flawed and impossible to answer, but i will say Jason fans irked me so deeply. because i read mostly 90s era Batfam, i admittedly didn't have a lot of exposure to Jason for a while, expect for his New-52 runs i'd read years ago. and since i never liked him based on those runs, i could not understand *what* his fans liked about him, or where they got some of their headcanons/ideas from. i've never been more baffled. it ranges from "oh i don't agree but you do you, i guess?" to "what character are you talking about i am BAFFLED". and it soured me on Jason for so long that i actually hate read *most* of his pre-Flashpoint appearances just to understand what on earth people liked about him. and now i can say, i love him dearly, but i can also say, i still don't know what character his fans are talking about sometimes. and i hate the fanon version of Jason who feels almost, Deadpool-ified? with this self-aware slapstick humor but a sad soft interior but also sassy and will kill a man it's just. it feels very hollow to me and it has made me almost tempted to block his character tag more than once over the years bc sometimes certain takes make it difficult to even like him. i just have to tune it out or yell about it for hours.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

i'm going to get particularly saucy with this one: that Dick Grayson has Eldest Daughter Syndrome. or more generally, that he was parentified. not a single ounce of Dick's backstory indicates him as being parentified. to be parentified you have to be a child taking care of other children either emotionally or physically because your parents are not fulfilling that role. and Dick was *never* a child at the time that another child was under Bruce's care. he has been an adult for the entirety he has known every other Batkid. and even then, the *only* one he was something you could akin to being a parent figure to was Damian, and Dick *chose* that. Dick was a grown-ass man in his late 20s who had the facilities and capacity to make the decision to be Damian's primary caretaker. he's never been parental toward any of the other Batkids, nor has Bruce ever forced upon him the role of having to raise them. did Bruce do a sort of questionable job with Dick? yeah. but i would argue Bruce did the best job with Dick of all the Batkids, and even if he was shitty with Dick, he couldn't parentify Dick bc there was no one for Dick to be parenting. and Dick wasn't parenting Bruce either. they just had a normal relationship of loving and caring for each other.

as for Eldest Daughter Syndrome i just.. i Do Not Like calling any male character "female coded" or "female rage coded" or "eldest daughter coded" because they're *not*. especially not in *this* medium. these are male characters, created by men, written by men 90% of the time, and written to be *male power fantasies*. nothing about Dick or Jason or any Batboy is female-coded bc they exist to be badass men. just because they show emotion and have complex relationships with Bruce doesn't make them suddenly women. Dick shows his anger in a very destructive, stereotypically "masculine" way. even if we strip it of gender, Dick doesn't exhibit most traits of Eldest Daughter Syndrome. he easily makes relationships with people his age, he has no issues telling Bruce no, he did not have caretaking responsibilities forced onto him by Bruce, he's not even really hyperindependent. Dick has a support system outside of the Bats, the fandom just ignores it. does Dick force caretaking responsibilities onto himself sometimes? can he be an overachiever? absolutely. but these are internal complexes that just come with making a character a superhero, it's a complex they all have. if i have to hear one more fan call him Eldest Daughter Syndrome-core or say he's a victim of parentification, i think I'll explode a little bit.

[ladyjune]

Maybe it is because I am Kathony fan and Polin fan, maybe I have been around this fandom too long who knows 😂 But the argument/ complaints about this season are the exact arguments people had about Kathony in S2. Like the “ To many side stories” the “not enough scenes of just them” was literally the same exact complaints people had.

S2 and S3 follow the same outline/ format, and will probably be the same format they follow for the rest of the series. ( Queen Charlotte is formatted as a limited series and S1 came out before they were renewed so they had to put a bow on the stories in case they weren’t renewed ) Do I wish we would have got more Colin and Penelope scenes? Absolutely. Are there things outside of these complaints that I wish were done differently? Sure, I am a firm believer you can enjoy something and wish things were done differently. I have had complaints about parts of every season. But this is something that is probably going to change anytime soon.

[singingcicadas]

......I never knew that Jazzprowl was a more popular ship than MegOp. Wow. I've always just assumed that megop was the default #1 ship in the tf fandom, bc, obviously, but...Jazzprowl... it's so weird. I never got the impression they had much interaction in any continuity, like, ever.

[starlightswordfight]

GOD writing friendship is making me so happy this is wonderful. friendship is the point of it all (rainbows fly everywhere like that dolphin picture)

[zombiekillerbiceps]

The First, Good Birthday

Note: this was so sweet and romantic to write. /I am ignoring resi6 and it's existence it's supposed to be fluff just work with me here/

Content: 2.3k, 18+, SFW, slight angst, fluff, mentions of drugs (a joint) and alcohol, between re2 and 4, Leon x Reader, gn reader, no y/n.

Reader gives Leon his best birthday yet.

"That is... The saddest fucking story anyone's ever told me," you say, genuinely shocked.

"No, no, it was great cause the socks were really well made," Leon insisted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, Jesus, I wouldn't celebrate my birthday either."

Leon snorted his amusement, raising his eyebrows as if to say I told you so.

What he told you was that he never really got to celebrate his birthday in his foster home. It was usually half-forgotten and rushed, gifted things likely found around the house or picked up at the gas station with the price tag still on it. The best birthday he ever had as a child was his 13th birthday. His foster parents had just gotten a huge donation, which meant he got fun necessities like... An electric tooth brush and good, wool socks.

"What about your best birthday as an adult?" You ask, hoping the story will lighten the mood. You expect some drunken, coming-of-age quest that you can make fun of him for later.

"My 18th birthday," he says. "I aged out of foster care. It was my first day in my own apartment and I went out and got a steak dinner."

"With friends?" You ask.

He doesn't answer.

"Babe, with friends, right?"

Still no answer.

"You understand we have to throw you the best birthday anyone's ever been thrown, right?"

-

When his birthday rolled around, you really did go all out, right from the minute you woke up. You made pancakes using the dinosaur-cookie cutters you were gifted as a gag one year. They were metal, and you definitely burned yourself a few times trying to flip the flap jacks. But, the result was vaguely dinosaur shaped pancakes that were too thick to cook through fully. So, that was... good.

When Leon finally padded out to the kitchen, he found you running your hand under cold water, butter burning in the pan, and a Jurassic Park-level dinosaur pancake massacre as the pancakes lost their shape and broke apart under their own weight.

He rushed over to turn off the stovetop. He pulled the spitting, smoking butter pan off the element and moved towards the sink where you were leaning, quickly avoided disaster, and put the pan on a different element. He was then at your side assessing the burn.

"I'm fine, really, I get worse burns at work," you tell him.

"What were you even trying to do?"

"I don't know, make you a cute breakfast."

His eyes drift over to the graveyard of dismembered dinosaurs.

"Nothing says cute like uh. Shapes."

"They were triceratops," you inform him as matter-of-factly as possible. "And a T-Rex."

He laughs, a surprised bark of laughter that makes the burned hands and messy counters worth it. His eyes squint up and he throws his head back as he laughs. His hair falls out of his face and catches the early afternoon light, illuminating him like a halo, and for a moment you just appreciate how beautiful he is.

"Why don't we just go out for breakfast?" He offers.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," you agree.

The two of you wind up at your favourite local coffee shop. It was a bit expensive, but their lattes truly were something special. Plus, their breakfast sandwiches were better than the under-cooked flour waiting for you at home. You take the morning slowly, sipping coffee on a warm patio, watching the world go by.

"Alright, what time is it?" You ask, stretching your arms above your head. Leon checks his phone.

"Noon," he tells you. "Have something else planned?"

"Not until later," you say. "I thought we could hit that independent book store down the street."

"When you said this was going to be my best birthday ever, I really expected more fanfare," he teased you.

"Can it, or I'm getting the socks."

He laughed with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you walked. It was a beautiful day out. Bright sun, clear skies, and a cool enough breeze to fend off the heat. Leon smiled easily, his body relaxed for once. Even if it wasn't a big, flashy birthday, you thought that giving him an afternoon where he could just relax with you was good enough.

The bookstore was inside an old house. Doors were taken off hinges so former kitchens and bedrooms could be turned into the Paranormal Mystery and Erotic Thriller sections. Bookcases overflowed with worn paperbacks, books cluttered half-open across tables, and novels spiraled up the staircase until there was hardly enough room to go up and down. A kindly old woman manned the check out counter with her bespeckled face buried in an Agatha Christie mystery. Her wife, a sturdier old woman rearranged a stack of scientific non-fiction. A big golden lab with a white muzzle laid on the porch and happily thumped his tail in greeting, licking Leon's hand as he passed. A fluffy, one-eyed cat stretched out across an open copy of Moby Dick like she was reading it.

You and Leon took your time picking through books, occasionally picking one up and dramatically reading the back or a choice passage to one another. You got to learn a lot about him. He liked poetry books, but pretended he didn't. He hated thrillers. He was interested in architecture, hovering around their section for longer than you anticipated, but you didn't mind. Least surprising was his love of classics.

In the end, you two left the store with only a few books. One by Trevor and Chamberlain titled Eastern European Castles and their Effect on the New American Rich, as well as a copy of Don Quixote, and an annotated pocket poetry book from the 1800's that you pretended not to see. You wouldn't judge him for it, but if he wanted to keep his love of poetry secret, you'd let him.

"This was a really nice birthday," Leon said, kissing your temple as the two of you left the bookstore feeling undeniably a little dusty.

"Was? It's not over yet!"

You insisted on getting some food that you could eat while walking on your way home. Dinner wouldn't be until late. You settled on vegetable kebabs and fresh squeezed lemonade.

"Go shower," you told him almost as soon as you got home.

"Are you planning on joining me?" He asked, hands playfully pulling at your hips. You blushed, giggling while you swatted him away.

"I've got a few more things to do. Hurry up, we don't want to be late."

You cleaned up the kitchen and sent off a few, final texts verifying everyone would be there. You prepped up a few things for dinner, and then since there was still time, you hopped in the shower with Leon for just a few minutes. Not long enough to do anything fun, but you cherished the quiet intimacy of washing his back and shoulders for him. Kissing the freshly clean skin when you were done.

The next hour or so happened in a blur of responding to texts and getting ready and playfully teasing Leon about the upcoming night he knew nothing about. Finally, wearing accidentally matching black button ups, you and Leon left the house. He insisted on taking the motor cycle. And he insisted on taking the scenic route, meaning he showed up late to his own birthday party.

The venue was a semi-upscale whisky bar. It struck a balance between modernism and industrialism, giving it a cool (but kind of snotty) vibe. You led him in by the hand. When the door swung open, you were greeted by a live jazz band and, almost immediately, a cheering chorus of voices.

Most of Leon's coworkers leaned over at the bar, raising their glasses in greeting of him. Leon left you to greet them, grinning and laughing with them immediately. One of them raised a glass to you, and you gave a lazy two finger salute back.

"Hey! Kennedy!" Emerging from the bathroom was an absolute behemoth of a man, Chris Redfield.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Leon cried. The two hugged tightly, patting each other on the back the way men did. Not too many men could make Leon look small, but Chris sure did.

A feminine hand gently touched Leon's back, and you watched him light up for the third time that night as he recognized Claire. Leon wrapped her up in a hug that lifted her off the ground. You smiled to yourself, watching as the three of them immediately get swept up in reminiscing. Leon's coworkers surrounded them, loudly talking and joking amongst themselves.

It was about an hour before another woman joined Leon at the bar, earning a surprised cry from Leon and his coworkers.

"Hunnigan!? Who got you to leave the house?!" One of them asked. Hunnigan shrugged, then tilted her head over to where you sat, half watching the party and half listening to the band. Leon beamed at you from across the room and you instantly got butterflies.

You got a text about twenty minutes later.

Meet us outside.

You approached the crowd to take Leon by the hand. He immediately turned and kissed you so passionately it took your breath away. You stepped away from him to a wave of oooooohs. In front of all his friends? Embarassing. And flattering.

"One more present," you tell him. He looks at you like he doesn't believe you.

"What more could you possibly give me?"

"Well, Hunnigan is the one that pulled this one together. You owe her big time. C'mon." You led him outside by the hand.

The cool night air was a welcome reprieve. You didn't realize how warm the bar was until you stepped into the night. Waiting outside was a nameless suit in front of a rich black car. He held a letter.

You gestured for Leon to take it. He did, cautiously, his eyes quickly serious and observant. You didn't miss how his hand hovered over his empty hip. You wondered if he was even aware of doing it. When he took the letter, the suit got back into the car and they drove off.

Leon read the letter. Then again. Then again. Tears started to well in his eyes and your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Babe, I'm so sorry, I thought it would be a nice-" he cut you off with a crushing hug. He buried his face into your shoulder and held you until your hands went numb.

"I don't know how you pulled this off," he said. "But, thank you."

You kissed him on the cheek and separated yourself from him.

"Why don't I go get Claire?" You offered. He smiled at you, and you took that as good enough.

You went back inside to get Claire. Leon showed her the letter, and her eyes widened, looking between it and Leon in disbelief.

"A letter from Sherry?" She asked. Leon nodded, and you headed back inside to let the two have a private moment.

You took the opportunity to get to know Leon's friends. Hunnigan complained about his attitude, his friends told embarrassing stories about him, and Chris alternated between praising Leon and solidifying some sibling-like rivalry between them.

Leon and Claire eventually came back in smelling like good weed. You assumed Claire brought a joint with her, as she was known to do at parties. All of you drank and chatted and joked. Laughter came often and in great, thunderous roars. At one point Leon dragged you onto the dancefloor, and when he got tired, Claire happily took his place.

-

Chris received a text from Jill and had to excuse himself to "tend to the missus." His leaving signaled the beginning of the end, and slowly the party thinned out until it was just you and Leon again. You two decided to walk home, too intoxicated to drive.

You two chatted the whole way home, gossiping about this person and that event. Leon was practically bursting with energy. His stomach growled and you had to soothe him with promises of one last present.

"Hey," he stopped in front of the door of your shared home. He took your face in his hands, gratitude plain on his face. "Thank you for tonight. Especially Sherry's letter, I have no idea how you-"

"Again, Hunnigan. I think I owe her a life debt now."

"You." Leon insisted. "You had the idea. You made it happen. You made everything happen tonight, and I don't know how to thank you."

"It's a birthday party, you don't have to thank me."

He kissed you, slow and gentle. He held you close in his arms while he did. You felt how much he loved you then, maybe more than any other kiss he'd ever given you. Eventually he pulled away, the affection in the softness of his gaze making him look like a younger, more hopeful man.

"One more present," you insisted.

You lead him inside the house and set him up in front of the TV while you cooked dinner. It went off without any of the prior disasters, luckily. Then you set up the table with the fanciest tableware you had. When you called Leon in, he could only chuckle in disbelief.

"One fancy steak dinner for one Monsieur Kennedy," you announced with quiet bravado, pouring a glass of Malbec.

He sat down at one end. You sat at the other. The two of you were starving and the meal went down pretty quickly, but not unsavoured. When you were done, Leon took your hand in his.

"A nice steak dinner shared with the love of your life," you said, gesturing with your free hand. The dying candle light warmed Leon's complexion, capturing his blonde hair in an orange glow. The flame danced in his blue eyes. He looked at you with nothing but love and appreciation. He looked beautiful. "Happy 25th birthday, my love."

-

[zhimaqiu]

Snow muffles everything. It's early morning, Miri still sleeps soundly in her room, neatly tugged in a thick blanket. Her mouth probably opened wide, a trickle of saliva going down her cheek. Even with a window ajar in the living room, no sound comes from the outside. Everything's quiet except for hissing of a pan in the kitchen.

Rei tries to flip a French toast with one hand, the other still hangs lifeless at his right side. He curses under his nose when another attempt ends with a splash messing up his hoodie and the countertop around him. Kazuki looks at him, his eyes wide and innocent, from his breakfast work.

"Need help?" But no response follows. He puts down the knife he's using. "Come on, it won't harm your pride if you say it. Here, let me."

He walks over, stops close to Rei, just behind him, and gives his assist with his right hand and a fork he found on the side. He counts to three and then they flip the toast together. The mixture bubbles a bit, so Kazuki's hand immediately lands on the cork to lower the heat.

"There you go." His words come out gentle, in a similar tone in which he soothes Miri when she's got a nightmare. They sound just next to Rei's right ear as he focuses his gaze on the pan. He continues while doing that: "Nothing scary, right? It's not like it's impossible to do it with one hand, but some toasts are stubborn. You'll get it."

He stays close for a couple more seconds, but reflects himself and walks away, leaving Rei starring blankly at the spot where just a moment ago he saw a red sleeve substituting the arm he had sacrificed. His heart feels softer, like if it was dipped in a sweet coating, but beats so terribly fast he has to take in a sharper breath.

"Thanks," he murmurs as his features melt in the fond feeling that appeared in his chest, not for the first time.

He thinks back to the conversation with his father, when he brought up all the little things that made him fall in love with his newfound family. He also remembers holding Kazuki up in the kitchen back then, their blood mixing as they supported each other.

I knew my partner would come to save me. And he did.

Yes, if something was on, he knew his partner will indeed come to save him. Even if it's just flipping a toast.

[meetmeatthecoda]

Halcyon by meetmeatthecoda Fandoms: The Blacklist (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Chapters: 7/7 (complete) Words: 117,335 Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen, Raymond Reddington, Agnes Keen, Dembe Zuma, Harold Cooper, Charlene Cooper, Alina Park, Donald Ressler, Aram Mojtabai, various OCs, Lizzington - Freeform, Agnesgate, AU, post-8.22, Fix-it fic, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Angst, Lots of Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, briefly, in the start of chapter 3, and an equally brief discussion of them in chapter 5, some sexual content, Nothing too explicit, and last but not least, no Redarina, no relation at all ever between red & liz, obviously

Summary:

Halcyon - adjective:

denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.

noun:

a tropical Asian and African kingfisher with brightly colored plumage.

a mythical bird said by ancient writers to breed in a nest floating at sea at the winter solstice, charming the wind and waves into calm.

origin:

from Greek alkuōn ‘kingfisher’ (also halkuōn, by association with hals ‘sea’ and kuōn ‘conceiving’).

An AU post-8.22 fix-it fic, wherein Liz survives her shooting - unbeknownst to everyone - & flees the country in an effort to protect those dear to her, living a solitary, lonely existence on a loch in Scotland & coping with the only outlet she has, a hobby begun as a coping mechanism during a traumatic childhood & kept since then as a closely-guarded secret: art.

“As with all things in her life, it was born from fire.”

☕️ Buy Me a Coffee ☕️

🎶 Playlist below the cut! 🎶

Meant To Be by Ber & Charlie Oriain

Rockland by Gracie Abrams

Walking On The Moon by Ruelle

graves by Purity Ring

32 Floors by Lapsley

Rolling Like a Ball by Ludovico Einaudi

Brush Fire by Gracie Abrams

Much Too Much by Lennon Stella

You Hold Me Up by The Bones of J.R. Jones

As The World Caves In by Matt Maltese (cover by Sarah Cothran)

Men On The Moon by Chelsea Cutler

you broke me first by Tate McRae

Games by Lennon Stella

Save Us by Lennon Stella

Takeaway by The Chainsmokers, ILLENIUM feat. Lennon Stella

Best by Gracie Abrams

Where do we go now? by Gracie Abrams

Amelie by Gracie Abrams

85mm by Ludovico Einaudi

ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine

Through the Eyes of a Child by AURORA

Edge of the Dark by Emmit Fenn

Blinded by Emmit Fenn

Memories by Emmit Fenn

Spectrum by Andrew Belle

I Can’t Believe I Had You by Emmit Fenn

Far from Here by Emmit Fenn

In Between Breaths by SYML

Two people by Gracie Abrams

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🌸 !!CHAPTER SIX POSTED!! 🌸

Title: Four Walls

Tags: Slow burn, domesticity, friends to lovers, smut, pining post sias/pre am era

Summary: Disillusioned with LA and on the heels of a breakup, Alex goes to stay with Miles in London.

[novelconcepts]

the other side of someday [complete]

When the Yellowjackets’ plane crashes in the Wilderness, they aren’t the first. Another team has already been here. Other girls have already died here.

As Taissa discovers when she awakens with a long-dead goalie sharing her body, dead doesn’t mean gone.

chapter 1/4 - head

chapter 2/4 - hands

chapter 3/4 - hips

chapter 4/4 - heart

M; 49k words

A blink of the eye, and graduation is here again. She’s packing up her dorm for the last time, smiling gently—if a bit awkwardly—at half-remembered girls who try to catch her eye down at the local watering hole. Her parents are embracing her, excited beyond words for the progress their daughter has achieved in only a few years. “Just think,” says Van lightly, “four years ago, your plane fell out of the sky. And now you’re Columbia-bound. You should take your story on the road, use it to spread hope across the nation.” Taissa very subtly flips her off in the reflection of her drink. Van beams. “Seriously, dude. Proud of you.”