#and i was like ‘…who?’ lmao. but i get it now.

[clownsuu]

Getting back into your Mob!Au for Welcome Home, but I forgot everyone's rolls in the mob! Can we get a refresher of the gang's responsibilities? I know Wally is the boss, Howdy runs the bar, Frank is financial manager, and Dusty protects the vault... but past that, I'm lost!

o h m a n its been a while since I worked, or even thought about these goobers lore wise JJHFGKSFF-- like holy moly I even forgot how to draw em (so take a test doodle lmAo)

cw bug/swarm silhouettes

But what from I remember, here's a list of their respected jobs (in order of Rank)

(for the main cast for now) (there may or may not be anything missing, or added/updated)

Wally: Obviously their most "enthusiastic" Boss. He doesn't do too much besides approve/reject orders, enforce rules, and be a casual reminder that, you are indeed, here forever*. Owns several brands ranging WILDLY (from cigs, to ovens, to baby diapers etc etc. Seemingly random, totally not a fire hazard)

Barnaby: Wally's Left-hand bodyguard. The boss isnt quite the greatest when it comes to discussions with potential clients/neighbors, so Barnaby is usually the one who does all the sweet talking for him. Usually the one who recommends "party" plans.

Howdy: Wally's Right-hand bodyguard. Due to his silent nature, he's purely there to be commanded however the boss sees fit. When not on duty as a guard, he's tending the company building's bar (open to the public on ground floor) and refilling stock.

Frank: Oh goodie look who ranked up! HEAVILY overworked however. He alone deals with all of the most boring of tasks, which include (but not limited to): Keeping every single paper file organized and up to date, calling in appointments for the boss and sometimes the family members, running errands, quality inspection in case they need to call in for second or even third party quality inspection, make online orders, make physical orders, update the decorative flora, plan events, put "party" plans into motion or reject due to budget, also cancel said planned events due to Sally, make sure the nursery is stocked and full, refill not bar exclusive fridges, haggling, getting rid of evidence, planting fake evidence, and so so so so so so so so much more! an alcoholic, and not-too recently started smoking.

Poppy: The only nurse who's available 24/7. Due to her severe insistent and persistent paranoia and anxiety, her workload has been reduced considerably (and shoved onto Frank.) On weekends, on her own accord, she likes to make everyone breakfast and serve it at the bar before everyone wakes up. Usually Howdy is awake as well and helps her whenever available.

Julie: Secondary nurse and "private" assassin. Specializes in poisons/antidotes, and organized crimes. Despite being a nurse, she's rarely doing nurse work, and instead can be found constantly reworking formulas, creating mind altering substances, and hunting for someone who's perhaps willing to be her guineapig to do test trials on (nobody ever is). Sometimes takes pity on Frank and helps him with their work. Sometimes.

Sally: "Public" assassin and a complete menace. Incredibly sloppy with her work and not completely reliable with making sure someone is dead unless she's allowed explosives (She's blacklisted from ever doing so again.) Developed a love for the next best thing: tasers. Mainly used to trash enemy bases and send a message that the mob doesn't take too kindly to their recent behaviors. Basically a physical embodiment of (and nicknamed) "Cease and Desist".

[moonsharky]

idk man i just think it's interesting how in the same episode (817) we got two visuals of eddie and symbolic disruption.

by now i am sure we all know about how eddie grabs buck's right shoulder in their kitchen fight.

as opposed to when every single other shoulder grab was on the left.

across the first four shoulder grabs, eddies touch on buck's left shoulder becomes a quiet but consistent symbol—something ritualistic in its repetition. it's always the left, and it's always tied to connection, trust, and reassurance. it happens when:

eddie entrusts buck with chris after the tsunami—offering the deepest form of vulnerability.

buck returns to life after dying and then breaks up with his girlfriend who only ever wanted to talk about his death—eddie marks it not with grand gestures, but a grounding, physical welcome.

buck comes outs as bi—eddie affirms their bond with the same familiar touch.

they're drunk and ridiculous—chaos, but still safety, still them.

the left shoulder becomes more than anatomical. it's a symbolic place—the side of openness, the heart side, where eddie reaches when he's offering something: protection, belief, affection, belonging. his hand on buck's left shoulder says: i see you, i know you, i am still here with you.

the rest is under a cut because this got really long lmao

and then comes the fifth shoulder grab. they're grieving, they're angry, and they're not aligned. it's not a random change, it's a visual break in their emotional code.

spatially, it's off. it's the opposite side, the one that's never been used, a side that carries no memory between them.

emotionally, it signals distance. instead of grounding buck (or himself) or connecting with him, eddie's touch jars—like reaching for someone and missing.

narratively, it says: this is not comfort, this is not reassurance. this is a moment when their bond is under strain.

the right shoulder becomes the embodiment of their fractured state. it's still a touch—so the connection hasn't been severed entirely—but it's misaligned, like trying to play a familiar song in the wrong key. the gesture remains, but the meaning has shifted. it's a visual metaphor for grief disrupting even the deepest connections. for how pain can make us reach for someone the wrong way. and for how easy it is, even in love or friendship, to get turned around.

and then we have sleeping on the right side of the bed when he finds out what has happened to bobby.

this one isn't as black and white as the shoulder grabs, there is a bit of nuance.

throughout the series, eddie's position on the left side of the bed becomes an unspoken visual anchor—just like buck's left shoulder. it's not just a preference; it's a symbol. when eddie is on the left, he is grounded in his identity, even when alone, even when struggling. the left side becomes a quiet declaration: this is where i belong, even if it hurts.

first appearance: alone, on the left, near the edge. a man used to sleeping alone, leaving space—both physically and emotionally—for something he hasn't yet allowed himself to reach for. still, the left side is his side.

the three times in the montage building to his ptsd breakdown: again alone, again on the left. but now he's closer to the centre—edging inward, away from the edge of the bed, perhaps unconsciously craving connection. that space on the right side of the bed remains empty but present. these shots appear as he drifts deeper int a spiral—emotionally withdrawn, but still clinging to familiarity. the left side is his tether.

the left side holds continuity. whether in grief, repression, or monotony, it's where eddie returns. it's where he makes space—whether or not he knows for whom.

in scenes where he shares the bed—first with his ex-wife, later with his girlfriend— the staging becomes a little more complicated, reflecting the emotional confusion in those relationships

with shannon: they're upside down in the bed—eddie is technically on the right, but visually, with shannon beside him, it reads as the left. symbolically it reflects the chaos of their dynamic: a shared history that doesn't quite fit anymore. she's on the edge, physically and emotionally, and he's left in between—trying to hold onto a familiar position in an unfamiliar formation. she dies ten episodes later.

with marisol: another upside down shot, but this time they're physically closer to eddie's side. she's not on the edge like shannon—there's room behind her. but that visual closeness is deceptive: emotionally they're still mismatched. this is the scene we see her officially moved in, packing boxes around eddie's bedroom, but the symmetry is fragile. she moves out at the end of the episode.

in both cases eddie never fully gives up the visual space of the left, but the blocking suggests that when others share his bed, it doesn't feel like sharing—it feels like rearranging. he's physically there, but emotionally disoriented.

1. later flashback with shannon: they're not upside down this time. chronologically this would be after the first time we see them in bed together, and before the end of that episode where she shows up on christmas day. eddie is on the left, not at the edge, not at the centre—somewhere in between. its a quieter scene, more stable, and just before eddie decides to reopen emotional space between them—for her to see christopher again. there's a softness here, but the tragedy to come lingers just beyond the frame.

then there's the final scene of eddie in bed in the 817 flashback. texas. the middle of the night. the call comes. their captain has died. eddie wakes up on the right side of the bed.

this is not just a logistical change. its a rupture in the visual language. the right side, for eddie, is foreign. it doesn't hold history, safety, or selfhood.

he's not in la. he's not near buck. he's not near the life he built for himself.

he's in texas—the place of his past, but not his home

his parents and extended relatives may be in the same state, but his found family isn't

eddie being on the right side of the bed—alone, out of place, receiving devastating news—is symbolic dislocation. it says: this isn't where i'm meant to be. not in this house. not in this life. not even in this bed in this room.

where the left side is grounding, the right side is severance. eddie on the right side of the bed is eddie adrift. it's a quiet, visual confirmation that something isn't right, that he is far from home.

both symbolic disruptions—the right-side shoulder grab and the right-side bed placement—occur in the same episode where eddie returns to la, but the irony is that even here, in the city he calls home, he doesn't feel at home in himself. the bed in texas underscores his physical and emotional disturbance; it's a visual cue that he's been living a life out of alignment. but the shoulder grab happens in la—among his family, in the place where he should feel most like eddie. and yet, in that moment, his grief fractures the instinctual connection he shares with buck. by reaching for the right shoulder, he unconsciously echoes the misplacement we see in texas—showing that the dissonance isn't just about geography. it's inside him now. this convergence of visual breaks—sleeping on the wrong side of the bed and touching the wrong shoulder—signals eddie's internal compass is spinning. he's lost not just his captain, but his grounding, and the emotional fluency he once had with the people he loves. even in la, he's still off centre because he's hurting and his best friend won't talk about their shared grief.

[kkoffin]

aside from your harmful transphobic views, what did kink ever do to you 😭

literally let me choke my boyfriend if hes into it lmao

to me personally, kink fucking ruined my relationship with sex and affection. people such as yourself always seem to assume i’m just some sheltered prude who thinks “anything other than missionary is the devil���s lust taking over!!”, but i was probably just as deep, if not deeper in it than yourself, and i’m still recovering from it, after years of trying to fix things.

sex was a performance, an act on both parts. sex wasnt a matter of what felt nice, and caring for my partner, wanting to share something, and be intimate. i felt exhausted after the act - sometimes it felt awkward returning to daily life. sex wasn’t really sex. it wasn’t intimate, it wasn’t loving, it was performing. I don’t know how to be intimate anymore. i can’t turn back time, and get my first times back, and recreate them as loving, and explorative. i was reliant on porn and kink, and now i’ve lacked any libido for years. I’m afraid to be intimate with anyone. I know that if i were still dating, many people i’d partner up with and have sex with would start choking me or hitting me without asking, or even if i explicitly told them not to.

it had much worse consequences too. sometimes, or eventually, it isn’t an act. sometimes it becomes real. you can’t act like one partner is superior, and the other is indebted or lesser-than without it seeping outside the bedroom. one starts always feeling like they owe the other, they must be obedient to the other, not question them. even when the other partner doesn’t intend this at all, and even where you might not notice it. after long enough of this, i spiraled into self-hatred, and complete reliance on my partner for any affirmation of my worth.

kink affected me before i’d even had sex, too. it was popular at my school, or maybe just amongst my group of friends, to take that “bdsm test” online. from the get-go, it wasn’t “cool” to be “vanilla”. before i had ever had sex, before i ever got to explore my own sexuality, what i liked and what i didn’t, i expected my partner to hit me, degrade me, etc, because that’s what was “cool”. it’s cool for women to let their boyfriend hit them. it makes the boys like you more, it makes you more fuckable. sometimes boys were the ones being hit too, or girls would be the ones degrading others, but either way, it certainly wasn’t cool to be a “vanilla wife”. i was maybe 13 when this started.

so that’s what kink did to me specifically, but that’s not the only reason i’m against it. refer to pavlov’s dog here: do you think it’s a good idea to condition yourself to be turned on when someone’s in pain, or when you hurt someone? look at the faces of many “submissives” in porn, see the fact that “painanal” is a hugely popular category - those faces are not happy, or in pleasure, or intimate and loving, or even aroused. they’re suffering. they even cry, or the video emphasises their pain. maybe they don’t say “no” or “stop”, but there’s a reason the video takes place in a situation they can’t escape from. that’s why “stuck in the washing machine” is such a popular category. it’s so they can’t escape. it’s an unsaid “no”. do you think it’s a good idea to condition yourself to be aroused when others suffer? hint: majority of misogynistic serial killers did just that. same with majority of serial rapists.

it is like a drug - you look for the next high, or the next taboo. whatever’s bigger and badder. i believe that’s scientifically proven; that porn addicts and people who engage with kink content always end up getting more and more extreme. it doesn’t stop at choking, or light “spanking”. it ends with CP and/or murder and/or rape etc. the only thing that really ends it is a prison sentence, or giving it up. vast majority of older men in the kink community have some sort of abuse or SA allegation against them. there’s a huge portion of men in prison for possession of CP who aren’t pedophiles, it was just their next taboo.

there’s so so so so so much more to address, and if you’re truly interested i can recommend books, but this post has gotten personal enough. i doubt you truly wanted to know “what kink did to me”, but that’s a peek into it. besides me, it’s worth note that kink has killed plenty people. choking can kill much easier than one would think - you can damage veins in the neck and die days after, just as one example

[invincibledc]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁FLASH!READER X MARK GRAYSON, FLASH!READER X DICK GRAYSON . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

—DICK GRAYSON

HE ALREADY DEALT WITH SPEEDSTERS AKA FLASHES BEFORE. BUT HAVING A CRUSH ON ONE? or EVEN DATING ONE??

Now that's absurd. Especially if you’re from the Flash family, I can imagine Wally side-eyeing dick everyone he’s on his phone.

“Are you texting my cousin?” he would ask which makes dick jolts and turn his phone off. “What? No….” like that all took place during when you guys were younger….

I MEAN WHO WOULD LIKE A FREE WILD SPIRIT SPEEDSTER?

Richard John Grayson would.

When years go by, he remembers the times when you would accidentally crash on him. Landing on top of him his face turns red.

Lord, puppy love is not a joke. But either wise, you and him are so cute!

You would speed over to romantic places so quickly, just to surprise him. Maybe he expected it and smirks, already dressed before you can confuse him.

There were times when you would just dead-ass “kidnap” him to a sweet date. Yeah, he cursed you out a bit for leaving him in pajamas, but hey! That’s just love for you as a speedster.

Dick always makes you cute things to just see you vibrate in excitement, it’s just so cute seeing you speed around happily.

Uses you as a massager.

You can’t blame him. It’s quite hilarious lmao

Wally still giving him side eyes seeing you and Dick cuddle, because why tf are yall so happy in love for? 🙁

Makes him SICK

(Jk he loves you both!)

—MARK GRAYSON

Being on the teen team, you had a tracksuit hero kinda suit. You looked cool with goggles and just boots/sneakers.

Hella badass don’t you think?

No one expected you both to date because you thought he liked Eve.

WEIRD ISNT IT?!!

He loves how energetic you are, you speed around a lot. Helping others carefully.

He loves to hear you yap, he doesn’t care if he can’t or can understand you when you start to speed up your talking a lot. It’s just the way you talk with your hands a lot and even act out some actions with stories.

It’s so passionate

Don’t get him started on doing races with you, you speeding off and him somehow tackling you down. Both tumbling as you giggle, because you know he won’t ever hurt you.

I think that literally any speedy character has adhd due to fast thinking in their brains and having trouble focusing and hyperactivity (like me fr…)

Cause Mark doesn’t mind having you stimming and having you play with his fingers. He finds it adorable.

He does admire you a lot and keeps you on track. He makes sure you don’t accidentally crash into anyone or a wall.

Mark also uses you as a massage gun, I mean sure he probably won’t feel it will depend on how fast you are going to your hands.

But the moment he groans, feeling all the tension in his muscle goes. He’s falling asleep.

And now you’re just here massaging this half-alien boy with a deadpan face cause you have comic books to read, a scheduled procrastination day, watching your fixation on a cartoon or anime.

And here you are massaging your beloved boyfriend who is smiling in his stupid dream about you and him marrying.

[mintyys-blog]

dawg thinking about showing the mark variants your newest little friend, A plush version of them LMAO. Maybe they're jealous, maybe they're weirded out but idgaf if they're gonna be out saving the world at least plush mark will keep Y/n company yk?

They try to throw it and she protests with a face of pure agony. But also like THINK OF HOW CUTE A PLUSH MARK WOULD BE awe. Squishes him. Kisses his face. Tucks him in bed.

Main mark or the other variants still complainin about it FINE grabs Y/n plush. we cant throw away Plush mark now. That'd make plush Y/n sad.

HEADCANONS | variants when their s/o gets a plush of them

invincible masterlist

warnings ; jealousy, pettiness, implied sex, emotional neglect

MAIN MARK

Mark blinked. Hard. Several times. “That’s me.”

You beamed, holding up the tiny plush version of your boyfriend. His little bean-shaped body was soft, huggable, and had a tiny version of the Invincible suit stitched on. He even had little felt eyebrows stitched in a slightly confused frown.

“I know! He’s perfect.”

Mark crossed his arms, staring at the plush like it had personally threatened the planet. “That is not what I look like.”

“You’re just mad he’s cuter than you.” You squished Plush!Mark in your arms and nuzzled his little felt face. “He listens. He’s always here. He doesn’t fly off mid-date to go punch a meteor or whatever.”

“I was literally saving lives—”

“Plush Mark never leaves me,” you whispered dramatically, kissing the plush’s cheek. “He’d never abandon me at Olive Garden.”

Mark stared, open-mouthed, remembering that exact night. “Okay, that meteor was headed for Pittsburgh—”

You gasped as he lunged forward, hand outstretched like he was about to snatch the plush from your grip.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, holding Plush!Mark against your chest protectively. “If you throw him I swear to God, Mark.”

The way your face twisted in agony, like he was about to murder your childhood pet, made him freeze mid-reach. He let out a strangled sound of frustration.

“This is so dumb,” he muttered. “He’s not even proportional—look, his head is huge!”

You ignored him, tucking Plush!Mark under your chin like a cherished baby. “He’s shaped like a friend.”

Mark ran a hand down his face. “Oh my god.”

Later that night, when you tucked the plush into bed beside you and kissed its forehead goodnight, Mark nearly walked out of the apartment on principle. But then— “Fine.” He stomped back to the bed. “Where’s the Plush Y/N? Huh? You don’t get to be alone with fake me if I don’t get fake you.”

You blinked at him.

Mark crossed his arms like a kid on Christmas who got socks. “What if Plush Mark gets lonely, huh? You don’t care about his emotional needs?”

You sat there for a moment, then reached under the bed and pulled out a soft plush with your hairstyle and a tiny shirt that said “#1 Streamer Girlfriend.”

Mark stared at it. “…You had one made already.”

You smiled sweetly. “Obviously.”

With a sigh of defeat, Mark flopped onto the bed and snatched the Y/N plush, cuddling it against his chest. “You know what? I like her. She’s way less annoying than the real one.”

You reached over, gave Plush Mark a little kiss on the head, and said, “He says he hopes you choke.”

SINISTER MARK

You sat on the couch, legs tucked up, totally absorbed in the task of braiding the felt hair of a very familiar plushie. The plush was detailed—shockingly so, considering it was supposed to be a toy. Black and yellow suit. Tired, embroidered eyes. Permanent little frown. Mark tilted his head, crossing his arms. “That’s supposed to be me,” he finally said, voice flat. Disgusted. Judging.

“It is you,” you chirped, smoothing the plush’s tiny cape with all the reverence of someone handling a relic. “It’s Plush Mark. I had him custom-made.”

His eye twitched. “Why.”

“Because you’re never home,” you said bluntly. “So now I have a version that doesn’t vanish for days or come back covered in blood.” Mark looked at the thing like it had personally offended his entire bloodline. “You’re mocking me.”

“No,” you said, clutching the plush to your chest, “I’m coping.”

You gently kissed the plush’s little face. He made a noise deep in his throat. “That’s disgusting.”

You cooed, holding Plush Mark up and making him “fly” through the air. “Aww, don’t listen to him, baby. You’re perfect. You would never gaslight me and then disappear to another dimension without texting back.” Mark’s jaw flexed. “You’re deranged.”

You smiled, absolutely unbothered. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not—” he began, then watched you tuck Plush Mark carefully into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin like he was the most precious thing in the world. Mark stared, unmoving. “…Are you sleeping with that tonight?”

“Yes.”

He blinked once, slowly. “Move over.”

You turned, surprised. “What?”

He walked over, peeled the covers back, and climbed into bed like this wasn’t completely unhinged. “If Plush Me gets to stay, so do I. We’re a package deal.”

You snorted. “You literally just called him ‘disgusting’ five seconds ago.”

He picked up the plush and stared at it for a long moment. Then, with absolutely no expression, he tucked it gently against your side and said, “He’s grown on me.” You stared at him. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re cuddling a stuffed war criminal.” He laid down beside you. “Don’t pretend like we’re not both broken.”

You looked down at the plush. Then at him. Then back at the plush. “…He’s still cuter than you.” Mark didn’t say anything. But you swore you heard him whisper to the plush, “If she kisses you again, I’m ripping your head off.”

MOHAWK MARK

At first, Mark genuinely didn’t care. You had this dumb little plush of him that you carried around like a comfort item, and yeah, he thought it was funny. Kinda cute, even. He’d squeeze its face sometimes or make it punch things with its stubby little arms. No big deal. Until you started kissing it goodnight. Every night. Without fail. Meanwhile, his real lips? Dusty. Unkissed. Abandoned.

He didn’t even notice at first. But then one night while lying next to you, you gave Plush Mark a gentle smooch on the forehead, whispered “goodnight, baby” in your softest voice, and then rolled over like he wasn’t even there. Mark blinked into the dark like he’d just been cheated on. “…You’re joking.”

“What?” you murmured sleepily.

“You kissed him.”

“Duh.”

“You didn’t kiss me.”

You reached back, patted his thigh, and muttered, “You’ll live.” He stared at the ceiling for five full minutes before saying, “I won’t.”

And then—then—you bought a plush of yourself. A little Y/N doll in a hoodie and fishnets, with tiny boots and a pouty embroidered smirk. You posed them together constantly. Made them “watch movies.” Made Plush You hug Plush Mark when he “got home from patrol.” You even made them hold hands on the bed while you were gone.

It was war.

So when you stepped into the shower that night, humming, leaving the plushies lying side by side in their usual Disney Channel™ pose, Mark got an idea.

An evil, beautiful, unhinged idea.

He smirked, picked up the plushies, and repositioned them—Plush Mark now gripping Plush Y/N from behind, head tilted slightly down like he was whispering filth in her ear. A perfectly executed doggy-style formation.

By the time you came out in your towel, humming and blissed out, Mark was casually lounging at the foot of the bed, phone in hand, not even looking up.

Then your gasp hit the air like a gunshot.

“MARK?!”

He looked up with all the fake innocence of a gremlin. “Yeah?”

You pointed at the plushies, mouth agape, eyes wide. “WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?!”

He shrugged. “What? It’s more accurate.”

You looked back at them. Then at him. “You’re sick.”

He grinned, lazy and smug. “You started it. You made us a weird little couple. I’m just making it realistic.” His eyes dragged down your body slowly. “You gonna pose yourself next? Or you want me to show you how it’s done?”

You threw a pillow at him. He ducked. Still smirking. “Plush Mark would never disrespect me like this,” you huffed, fixing them with a sniff.

Mark leaned back on his hands and said, “Plush Mark can’t make you scream into the mattress, babe.” You froze. Slowly turned. He was already patting his lap. “Now c’mere and let me show you the real thing.”

OMNI MARK

You were unusually quiet as Mark walked into the room. He’d just returned from… somewhere. He didn’t say. He never did. But he was here now—floating silently to the balcony, blood drying on his uniform, eyes a little distant.

He was expecting the usual routine. Your nagging. Your worry. Maybe a snarky comment about how he could at least text when he vanished for a week.

But instead… you were curled up on the bed.

Not alone.

He froze.

There, nestled in your arms, was a plush. His suit. His colors. His stupid little face, lovingly stitched with a stern expression and those sharp embroidered eyebrows.

You were hugging it tight. Whispering something to it.

He stepped inside. “…What is that.”

You looked up, slow and sleepy. “Oh. This is Plush Mark.”

He stared at it like it was a bomb. “Why do you have that.”

You shrugged and rested your chin on the plush’s head. “Because he doesn’t leave me.” Mark went very still. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or… stunned. The silence was deafening.

You gave the plush a little kiss on the nose. “He never comes back with blood on his hands. He always holds me when I cry. He doesn’t look at me like I’m weak for missing him.”

That broke something in him.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” he said—too fast. Too defensive.

You blinked at him, slowly. “You think I’m foolish for loving you.”

He stepped forward, chest tightening. “You are foolish for loving me.”

You sat up, pulling the plush into your lap like a shield. “Plush Mark says I deserve better.” Mark’s mouth twitched. He hated how his chest ached at the sight of the damn thing. How it was wearing his suit. How you held it like it was soft, like he could be soft. Then he noticed something else. Another plush. Smaller. Styled like you.

Perched beside him. Their felt hands loosely stitched together. The two of them “holding hands” on your bed like some Hallmark couple. He stared at them. You followed his gaze and smiled faintly. “They keep each other company when we can’t.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Then:

“You made a version of me that stays.”

You nodded.

“I don’t deserve that.”

You shrugged. “You didn’t deserve me, either. But you got me anyway.” Mark sat down on the edge of the bed. Slowly. Almost afraid to touch you. His fingers hovered over the plush before pulling back.

“I scare you.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But Plush Mark doesn’t.” He looked at the plush. Then at you. Then at the plush again. And—God help him—he laid down. Carefully. On his side. Facing you.

“…Can I stay?”

You said nothing. Just gently reached out and tucked Plush Mark between you. Mark stared at his tiny doppleganger. Stiff. Uncomfortable. Confused.

Then your hand brushed his. The plushes’ fingers still linked between you. And quietly—barely above a whisper—you said, “He missed you, too.”

VILTRUMITE MARK

He didn’t notice at first.

Mark had just come home from a three-week mission—shoulders heavy, cape torn, and blood (not all his) dried on his jaw. He was sore. Tired. You greeted him at the door with a smile and a kiss, and he sank into it like it was the only thing tethering him to Earth.

“Go lay down,” you said softly. “I’ll bring you food.”

He nodded, too exhausted to argue, and made his way into the bedroom.

Then he froze. On the nightstand, right where his old plush used to sit, were two new ones. Still him and you—still the same colors and soft fabric—but these versions were dressed differently. Plush Mark was wearing a tiny suit. Black, tailored, with a red tie to match his uniform.

And Plush Y/N? A little white dress. Tiny veil. A bouquet of embroidered red flowers stitched into her felt hands. They were holding hands again. Mark stared at them. Silently. His throat tightened without warning. When you walked in with a bowl of food, he was still standing there. Still looking at them.

You grinned. “You like them?”

He didn’t answer right away. “…Why?”

You set the bowl down and leaned against the doorframe. “Because I want to marry you someday. And I know you’re not ready to talk about that, but—”

“I am.”

You blinked. “What?”

Mark’s jaw clenched. He looked down at the plushies. “I am ready. I just didn’t know if you were serious.”

You walked over, gently adjusting Plush Y/N’s veil. “I wouldn’t stitch a tiny wedding dress for fun, babe.” His lips twitched. “It’s… accurate.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s always dragging him into feelings.” You laughed, soft and genuine, and pressed your forehead to his chest. “He loves her anyway.” Mark’s hand came up to cradle the back of your head.

“I do,” he whispered.

That night, when you fell asleep, you found yourself cradled in Mark’s arms—real and warm and solid. And on the nightstand, the bride and groom plushies sat side by side. Still holding hands. Still waiting for forever. Together.

PRISONER MARK

He didn’t expect warmth.

After months locked in a cold, cement-and-steel cell, Mark had trained his body to live without comfort. Without softness. Without you.

So when he finally stepped into your apartment—quietly, silently, not even sure he was still welcome—he was met with something he didn’t understand.

Not at first.

The room smelled like you. Lived-in. Safe.

There were two small plush toys sitting on your bed.

One wore a red and blue suit. A little scowl stitched across his felt face. Black thread for his hair, slightly messy.

And beside him— A plush version of you. Hoodie. Soft smile. Stitched fingers linked gently with his. They were positioned carefully, like you’d done it just before leaving the room. Like you trusted they’d take care of each other while you were gone. Mark stood in the doorway, stunned. His heart felt like it forgot how to beat.

He walked forward slowly, bruised knuckles twitching, and sank down on the edge of the bed. He reached out. Touched the plush version of himself. It was warm from the sun filtering through your window. Warm, like you’d held it. Like you still loved it. He exhaled. Shaky. Shallow. “…That’s not what I look like anymore,” he muttered to no one.

His voice was rough. Tired. Like he hadn’t spoken in days. His face was sharper. His hair was gone. He was scarred—physically, emotionally, permanently. But that plush? That was him. The way you saw him. The way you remembered him when the world stole him from you.

He hadn’t noticed you standing in the doorway. “Plush Mark doesn’t leave,” you said gently. “But he still missed you.” Mark turned, slowly. And you didn’t flinch. You walked over, eyes soft, and picked up the plush version of yourself. Then gently placed her in his hands. “They took you from me,” you whispered. “So I kept you here. However I could.”

He stared down at the stitched version of you. His hands were too big, too calloused, but he cradled her like she might break. His voice cracked. “I didn’t think I’d make it back.”

“You did.”

You sat beside him, your shoulder brushing his, and guided Plush Mark’s hand back into Plush Y/N’s. Interlocked. Together again. Just like you two. You didn’t say anything else. And neither did he.

But when you fell asleep that night, wrapped up in his arms, he stayed awake just a little longer—one hand resting on the small plush version of you between your pillows. Like maybe, if he held onto both of you tight enough, he’d never lose you again.

💋 TAG LIST: @onlybatsyy

[yushiroll]

"Perv." Armin x Fem!Reader

Cw: College Nerdmin, masturbation, listening to him jerk off, very perverted armin, very horny stuff LMAO, reader and armin are both horny fucks

An: This is split into two parts! Part two might take me a while to make because Im going on vacation for 2 weeks but don't worry, I'll be posting it as soon as I can! (If you guys really want to~) This is my second time writing a long ass fic so dont expect it to be that good.

As always, MDNI

Armin Arlert had been your roommate for a few months now, and everything you’d thought about him before was now out the window. Your first impression of him was anything but perverse—you thought he was just the typical nerd type. Apparently, you were so, so wrong.

Despite his avid collection of books, dictionaries, and thesauruses, he also owns multiple fleshlights, has gooner anime figurines, and jerks off so loudly that you had to ask him to keep it down while you were writing an essay for your major. Who knew this boy would be so perverted? Certainly not you.

You couldn’t lie, though—his moaning does turn you on. The way his voice quivers whenever he lets out a moan, the sound of the fleshlight plopping up and down his lubricated cock… it gets you so riled up that you once convinced yourself you needed to record a voicemail of him moaning for “research purposes.”

Don’t even get me started on his tongue piercing. The first time he told you about it, you absolutely freaked out—and for good reason. Having a thing for tongue piercings, and then suddenly your cute, nerdy, perverted roomie gets one? It was like the universe was telling you to go bang him already.

“Min, I’m going somewhere with a friend,” you say, spraying your signature perfume on the crooks of your neck.

“Oh? I’m going out for a bit too,” he replies, looking away from his phone and letting his gaze land on you. He subconsciously bites the inside of his cheek—his eyes darting over every curve of your body before he snaps out of his trance, just as his pants begin to tighten.

“How long are you gonna be out?” he asks, bashfully fiddling with the drawstrings of his dark green hoodie.

“I’ll be out for a few hours—oh, and since you’re going out too, you have the extra key with you, right?” He nods.

“Alright, I’ll be going now, Min.” He gives you a small “bye,” which you return before exiting the room.

You come home absolutely fried and drained, your social battery at its lowest. It didn’t help that your friends made you take a few shots of whatever the fuck they handed you. Struggling to get out of your thigh-high boots, you stumble into the living room.

“Mmm. Guessing Min isn’t home yet,” you whisper to yourself.

“M… ‘mh… fuck… y-yeah… like that… just… like that… fuck… y-Y/n… please…”

It came from his room. Those loud, familiar, wet plops. The whimpering, the whining, the moaning—he was most definitely home.

And wait… did he just say your name?

You thought you misheard him. Maybe he was jerking off to an anime character with a name similar to yours…? You just had to eavesdrop.

Quietly walking toward Armin’s wooden door, you press your ear against it.

“Mmmh… Y-y/n… goddamnit… feels… good… ngh…

t-take it, take it, take it, please… Y/n…”

He sounded so beautiful, so hot, and so fucking desperate. You couldn’t help but shift your thighs to quell that hot, throbbing feeling. You were getting riled up by the second, biting hard on your bottom lip. He was jerking off to you. Him having a thing for you had been the last thing on your mind.

Millions of possible scenarios race through your mind as you unknowingly match the muffled rhythm of Armin’s strained breaths. Your hand slowly inches toward your aching pussy, subconsciously circling your clit through your panties.

Should I open the door? What the fuck do I even do when I do that… shit, shit, shit, you thought.

You take a deep, shaky breath before placing your hand on the metal doorknob. "Fuck it.”

You open the door—and wow, what a sight to behold. Tissues littered everywhere. Clothes scattered across the floor. A finished bottle of lube lying on his desk. A picture of you pulled up on his monitor. And finally—Armin’s tear-ridden face looking at you in horror as he makes a feeble attempt to hide his cock.

“W-what the fuck?! Don’t you fucking knock or something? Jesus Chri—GET OUT!”

His voice cracks so much you lose count of how many times it breaks. He looks pathetic—face red, tears running down his cheeks from what you’d assume were the result of hours of just jerking off. And the smell of sweat and desperation in the air? God, it was intoxicating.

“Y/n, I swear to god, if you don’t get out of my room right now I’ll—”

“Is that a picture of me on your monitor? Were you… jerking off to me?” Even though you already knew the answer, you still wanted him to say it—just to milk the embarrassment from his face.

“It’s none of your fucking business. C’mon, please get out of my room…” he pleads, his voice like music to your ears.

“Excuse me? It’s totally my business since it’s me you’re jerking off to,” you say, taking a few steps closer.

Still sitting in his sweaty gaming chair, he slowly pushes himself backward, avoiding your piercing gaze. “I-I wasn’t jerking off to you, I swear! It just so happens that your Insta was pulled up on my monitor and—”

You lean in, placing your mouth so close to his ear it makes his cock throb. “Why’d I hear you moan my name then? Multiple times?” you whisper, sending a shiver through his whole body.

He looks at you shamefully, eyes glossy and brows furrowed. “Okay, okay—I was jerking off to you! I-I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have. It was inappropriate of me, a-and—”

You didn’t have time to hear him apologize—for something you jerk off to every night just thinking about. You pull him into a messy kiss, and it takes him no time to reciprocate.

He stands up, pushes you onto the bed, and kisses you again—eager to feel your lips against his. You feel his tongue slide into your mouth—the way it clashed with yours, the cold metal ball gliding between you—it made your warm cunt twitch.

He rubs his fingers against your clothed cunt, letting out a soft whimper when he feels how warm it is. “Fuck… can I eat you?”

[muletia]

Imagine having a sparkling with your yandere bot, whose genes are so strong that your kid ends up with the exact same personality as their obsessive and possessive sire. So now, not only do you have to deal with a bot who needs to be near you 24/7 because he withers and dies without you, but also with a sparkling who demands your attention 25/8 and throws the tantrum of the century when you don’t give it to them

And I see two possible scenarios here:

One — the sire and the sparkling have major beef. They hate each other and are both jealous of the attention you give the other (sparkling gets more of it, and the sire sometimes wants to yeet them into the sun or kick them into another galaxy)

Two — the sire is proud that his very own creation knows from an early age what “true love” looks like, and he actively rewards possessive behavior. Like when someone got a little too close to you and the sparkling tried to claw out their optics

Either way good luck lmao

[transformers-spike]

Hi, @squibsformers here-

For your consideration: Human taking their Car alt-mode partner to a car show to make a lil money. I could so see this going so many different ones having different reactions.

Like there was the one ive seen of a similar thing with Bumblebee where he would be loving it (loved that one, v good) But can you imagine the Hell it would be for Knock Out who LOVES attention but thinks humans are Icky. You would have to be like "Listen. You're gonna get all shiny and pretty and im really sorry but people are gonna touch you." And KO would be all "Pfft. I can deal with disgusting fleshy fingers.... No Offense." But then when it comes down to it hes like SOOOO zoned out bc this is Nice and he lives the attention and the people complimenting him and saying hes pretty... but he's silently tallying how many people have touched him and is probs gonna give you that many swats later or smth. Its a number.... that will very much suck.

Jazz?? Could you IMAGINE Jazz at one of these?? People would be all over him and also like, i feel he would be bumpin some GREAT music the whole time. He feels like its both a spy mission and also a day off so hes just like "fine by me lmao." He's gonna get worked up though. And by the time you make it home he has mass displaced in your garage and is like "Alright! Now for my end of the bargain, bend over-"

Arcee??? Hello arcee at a motorcycle show?? People would LOVE how sleek and slick she looks.

.....Hot Rod/Rodimus at a show. First off if he lost he would be salty for like the next DECACYCLE- But man. Rodders has had so many different paint styles and stuff and all of them would be so eye catching at a show. The two from Cyberverse, of course the two from MTMTE, he has so many options for "Hello 4s a 10 has arrived". And he would eat up all the praise and compliments about his paibt and how he looks like SUCH a strong car. But then when he gets alone with you, the only compliments he eats up are from his sweet little mate.

(Note: If this was TFP and the human for KO was taking him to a car show, I feel like Starscream would be staring at his human like "Well????" as if they could just. Take him to a Jet Show. He has to be let down Gently)

Anyways yeah Yappin

nghhhhhhhhh peak car show ideas omg

TFP Bumblebee is loving it and behaving himself so well, but if it's TFA he's going to transform into a bot just so he can get even more attention (whore).

Smokescreen should definitely participate even if there's a 5% chance he fucks up and blows his cover somehow (yes your car is talking. No don't worry about it)

BRO - I'M DYING OVER JAZZ RAILING HIS HUMAN AFTER THE SHOW

Listen - Rodimus being needy and desperate for comfort is peak. Please pet his giant ass head and call him your specialest little boy

KO is going to fucking ruin you if you try this with him. Yeah, he knows you're going to leave your fingerprints on him - but you're special. He can put up with you (even if sometimes he'd love to punt you), so being stroked by all those human hands is doing a number on him

Especially since he operates on exchanges. He did you a favor, now it's your turn to pay him back. Realistically it would be by buffing him and cleaning up all those nasty fingerprints. But there's a chance the second part of the deal involves overstimulation until you fall into a coma

Bro - if you bring Starscream along to watch a jet show (which he cannot participate in for obv reasons) he will be rolling his optics at the "sluggist" and "uninspired" maneuvers the pilots are pulling. Most of the show involves him hate-watching it

[automaticheartcrusade]

Okay huge huge unpopular opinion incoming…but I don’t care that much for Richie. I really could care less about him now and this is due to how the fandom has treated him/perceived him. He’s canonically an asshole (and probably sexist) and yet he’s been mischaracterized as the stereotypical “stuttering fragile soft uwu boy” you see in EVERY fandom and THANKS I hate it! Doesn’t help that most of the people who hc him as gay also push that “uwu soft gay boy” stereotype onto him as well and it sucks. Just because he’s sympathetic doesn’t mean you need to make Richie into something he’s not cause a lot of people have.

And I’ll be honest and say that my gripe with Richie also has to due with the favoritism/misogyny within the fandom. I get so salty that he’s so incredibly popular and praised for being complex because of ONE moment during a song, meanwhile characters like Grace and Ruth are 10x more layered and interesting than him, yet people would rather overly dissect Richie because of one scene rather than look at the FULL length musical number Ruth gets about her character, (which people refuse to talk about since no one likes her song) or talk about Grace and the million of things you can dissect her character on. But Grace, Ruth, and even Steph will take the backseat cause Richie is more popular and I hate that.

And while we’re here…this is exactly how I feel about Paul Mathews too. Like…omg I could give less of a fuck about him I’m so SORRY lmao. Yeah he’s really funny and enjoyable to watch but that’s it for me. Paul being popular makes more sense since he’s a main character so I don’t have issue with that, but again, it does make me salty seeing how popular he is when Emma and Charlotte are right there bro (or hell, literally ANY other hatchetfield character like Tom or Becky or something, cause the majority of them are more layered than Paul is) and yet people put Paul up on a pedestal and mischaracterize him too (the fact that some people clutched their pearls when Jon said he was an asshole is proof enough of that). Like the whole point of Paul’s character was that he’s just some average normal asshole guy with no motivations or plans for the future until he meets Emma (who mind you is more interesting than him like she’s got a whole backstory, internal struggles, family issues ect) but then people took the info we had on Paul and turned him into a soft stuttering uwu boy as well, which also sucks.

So yeah sorry I was in a real ranty mood today lol but these are just my personal gripes and opinions. Please keep in mind, NO hate to the people who love Paul and Richie, as well as the people hc Richie as gay cause I’m cool with that. I’m also not denying the depth bc Paul and Richie DO have depth, I get it….this is more a callout post about the people who mischaracterize both of them as well as the fans who have internalized misogyny AND the favoritism/picking and choosing of obsessing over characters that aren’t that important or layered compared to the ones who are. And I don’t have an issue with people favoring the smaller characters as well because people are allowed to have fun! I just kinda hate that Paul, Richie, (even Gary Goldstein) are so popular meanwhile there are characters with bigger roles who deserve that same attention and recognition but don’t get any, it’s just frustrating.

[resident-idiot-simp]

Thinking about Althea dealing with them being obnoxiously in love again 😔

Althea who knows they are constantly cuddling and can hear them whispering to one another.

She hears the happy humming each time they are affectionate. The purring whenever Wade enters the room, hell the purring whenever Logan even thinks of Wade.

The constant kisses that can still stun Wade silent and have him a flustered mess

Althea has seen Wade in love but she's never experienced the tooth rotting sweetness of it all.

She knew about Vanessa but Wade stayed with Vanessa when they were together. Sure she's used to the pining.

But the obnoxious love??? No this is new and honestly it's fascinating as much as it is disgusting.

She's never experienced Wade like this It's a whole new side of him and honestly it explains a lot of why Vanessa put up with him.

As much as she's loathed to admit it Wade seems like an amazing partner to have.

@orcadork4ever:

I sent this to Canadian earlier today lmao

Al: You look at him the same way you used to look at Vanessa.

Wade: Bitch, you can’t even see how the fuck would you know?!

Al: you do the same stupid little fucking lovesick puppy sigh.

Wade: . . . Fuck

Me:

Wade when in love is truly a one tracked mind kind of person. All he'll focus on is Logan, all he can talk about is Logan.

It's constantly Logan this Logan that and Althea is honestly dumbfounded. Wade switched interests so often it was honestly hard to keep up with.

He'd move on from things so quickly, but yet months later Logan was still the only thing on his mind.

He couldn't get enough of the other man and it was mutual.

Logan was the same damn way only thing is she couldn't prove he was like this all the time. She hadn't known him long enough or known him before Wade.

But what she did know is that he was just as obsessed.

She knew they curled close every night. She knew that they were damn near always touching. She knew they hated being apart.

They we're inseparable and just now seems to be a rule of the universe. And she didn't know what to make of any of it.

She knew one thing for sure however. She knew they loved each other more than anything in the world and it was enough for her.

She love them both in one of them to be happy and they definitely were.

[callsign-rogueone]

unrelated but I was listening to juno (sabrina carpenter) and it got me thinking: which of the gfverse couples are the most kinky in bed? if any? that's all, I hope you're doing well! love your writing, btw!

top three:

it is my firm belief that sawyer and peach are absolute freaks. they’re going at it morning noon and night when they’re at riorson house. sawyer is in charge. he’s a rider and she isn’t, so he definitely has the upper hand strength wise, and she loves it. add in the fact that he’s an executive officer and looks so good in his uniform… it stays on quite often. their dynamic will change a little after his injury, which causes some physical limitations, and with him living in the infirmary for a month, they can’t really do anything. but once he can make it up stairs to her room, all bets are off. and even if she’s on top, he’s still in control. (actively working on this, hehe)

lieutenant colonel brennan sorrengail fucks. duchess is never ever left unsatisfied. he’s also in charge 95% of the time. he just has that stern, commanding but loving energy, that makes you want to be a good girl for him. but it’s also quite fun to rile him up and tease him, and then see him snap. he’s a brat tamer through and through. he’ll spank or edge you until you finally cry and apologize, tell him that you won’t do it again. but be careful what you wish for — if you beg him to let you cum, you’ll be cumming four times that night, until you’re an absolute mess and can’t take it anymore. he’ll take such good care of you after, though <3

dain and love are also at it like rabbits (how’s that gonna go for them, lmao). it’s a constant tug of war with who’s in control, and her signet often comes into play. it’s just so easy to tie him up with little ropes of air, or slightly reduce the amount of oxygen he’s getting, making him dizzy… admittedly, it took a while for dain to be comfortable with not being in control, because of the traditional view that the man is in charge etc etc, and also to build the trust necessary to be okay with stuff like being tied up. but now he’ll do anything for you, as long as you call him a good boy while he does it. he needs that validation and praise like air. also, king of body worship. let him help you undress and kiss every inch of your skin, give you a massage, and then make you cum on his tongue.

honorable mentions:

garrick and angel. similar to sawyer and peach, gare is in charge, and much stronger. he’s able to put her in any position he wants, and manhandle her a bit, which she loves. and the size difference goes crazy. he’s a literal giant, and it’s so hot to see him towering over you while you’re on your knees, or above you, taking up your whole vision. again, it’s all built on the deep trust between them, that he won’t truly hurt her, that she’ll tell him if he does, and that she has the ability to stop him at any time with a word or a gesture. which is the bare minimum of a healthy d/s relationship!

bodhi and darling are also a coin flip to see who is going to be in charge. but often times neither of them is, and they’re just each focusing on the other and pleasing them. once darling gets her wingleader title… that definitely made a few appearances in their bed. he’s also a body worshipper. he just wants to make you feel good.

soft and gentle, and/or need more time to build trust and confidence before they do anything else:

this would be a great opportunity for me to tell you about my plans for liam and spark… apart from the one dragon-induced fuck fest (courtesy of tuile), they’re soft and sweet. they both already have enough pain in their lives, and feel the need to cherish every moment that they can touch. even on that day of him helping her out with her need, he still goes slowly and takes excellent care of her, because he hasn’t told her yet, but he’s deeply in love with her, and because he’s just the sweetest.

in time, ridoc and sweetheart will get up to some kinky shit. she reads, after all. she’s just inexperienced (also actively working on writing their first time!) and needs to be fully comfortable with the vanilla stuff first. once that trust is built, and she’s less anxious, they’ll have some fun, including his ice.

aaric and sunny probably won’t be doing anything for a while, both because demi/ace!aaric is everything to me, and because of sunny’s past issues. once they finally do, it’ll be soft and loving, and he’ll let her be in complete control / on top, so as not to trigger her or make her feel pressured to do anything she doesn’t want to do.

[satorrruuu]

WAIT I’M REMEMBERING THE FIC I FORGOT TO WRITE DOWN

“I could give you a baby.”

━━ decide which jjk character it is in the poll at the end? <3

So, you’ve been in what you hoped to be your final relationship for a while now. You’re in your late 20s or early 30s at this point, and it’s always been your dream to have kids. One or two, you’re not super picky, but you really want to have that - a loving partner raising a couple of kids together in a lovely house.

Everyone knows this about you: It’s been your dream since high school to have a baby. And it’s not like you were super traditional. It’s just smarter and safer to have a kid when you have the proper funds and support, maybe even taking a few years off work. So, you’ve been saving and planning your life around making that happen.

Your current partner, whom you’ve been with for YEARS, knows this. He’s an all-around nice guy who gets along with your parents and friends, and seemed happy to be in that future-father role. Sometimes he was a bit dismissive when you would ask occasionally what opinions he had on how to make a nursery, what sort of parenting style they should use, etc. He would say, ‘He didn’t really have an opinion’ and ‘now wasn’t the right time to start executing’ and ‘he wanted to get another work promotion and vacation before doing all that’.

Surprise, surprise, the dude was happy that you were treating him like your Provider Baby Daddy before he was one, and since you were so on top of creating plans and driven to make something of your own, he was ready to just coast through life on your hard work. — Maybe that was a mean take on it, but you really were frustrated! He told you, to your face, that he had hoped you’d change your mind about wanting to be a mom. He felt comfortable with you, and because this was the only setback, he wasn’t willing to end the relationship over differing opinions.

So you broke up with him—thank god it was before you both bought that house you were looking at together—and now you’re back to square one.

This is basically all you’ve been telling your friend since you sat down at your monthly coffee meet-up.

It’s all so ridiculous! He wasted your time! This is the window you’ve been planning for, where you were financially ready to have a baby. Even though you still wish to have that extra savings cushion, a partner could give you that if anything were to go wrong or if you’d just like to take more leave from work.

Your body is healthy, and you’ve been researching and preparing to be in your best shape and diet for so long to make it easier to have a smooth and relaxing pregnancy.

God, it was all coming apart. Now you are worrying about your age. You weren’t at the limit by any means, but the longer you wait, the more at risk you are for complications in your life and body. And your parents are getting older, and you really, really wanted them to have a chance to play with their grandchild before their bodies started slowing down.

And fuck, it’s not like it’ll be easy to find the perfect match to commit to spending the rest of your life with - or even just dealing with, if you ended up separating.

But maybe you didn’t have to stress about all this stuff. Because your dear friend had been listening wordlessly through your entire rant, and when you finally went silent, he says to you, dead serious,

“I could give you a baby.”

Poll’s duration will be long because I really want you to think about it lmao. I’m kidding, I’m just busy finishing up a project on my main, I just had to get this idea down before I forgot again. I think I’d write a little teaser recapping all this information first, but I don’t imagine the fic will be super long—it’s a quick-read mini-series at most. There will be baby-making, of course. Love you, thank you for helping me!💕 + Those pretty dividers were made by @/saradika-graphics !

[wordsofwhimsy]

HI tall reader anon here... I think Lensless would be great💞 Stupid ugly little masochist with a big and strong gal I WANNA PUNCH HIM AND BEAT HIM UP HRRRGRRG

𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚 (𝙤𝙧 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩)

Pairing: Lensless/No Goggles!Mark Grayson x tall fem!Reader

Warnings: Gets a little heated at the end, not NSFW tho. Lensless is a freak but we all know that

Tags: ummm, sorta enemies-to-????, not really enemies tho he just gets on your nerves LMAO

Word Count: 1,338

Synopsis: Mark’s been following you like a shadow from the moment he saw you, and dammit it if he isn’t persistent. Maybe you’ll throw the guy a bone (or against a wall).

a/n: shout out to you my lovely anon!!! i didn’t know if you wanted smut or not so i decided to play it (sorta) safe buuut i hope you enjoy this!! <3 love your tall beautiful ahh

“I could’ve lifted that.”

You don’t look up. Just keep dragging the crushed bit of scaffolding across the floor, boots crunching over debris. “You could’ve, but you didn’t. I got it.”

Mark hovers just behind you, blood still smeared across one cheek. He’s been following you around all morning, shoulders visibly tense, like he’s waiting for something to happen.

“You’re strong,” he points out dumbly, floating alongside as you drag the wreckage toward the debris pile.

“Uh-huh.”

“Like, really strong. For a human I mean.”

You pause, eyebrows lifting. “Is that your version of a pick-up line?”

He grins. “Would it work if it was?” he pressed, landing beside you.

You drop the metal with a clang. “Not into short guys, sorry.”

That does it. His smile falters like he just got smacked. “Short—? I’m not short.”

You hum, unimpressed. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I’m literally six feet tall!”

You give him a once-over. “Still shorter than me.”

Mark’s eyes narrow, but quickly lit up again as he casually started floating once more. Just a few inches. Enough to make up the difference. Now he’s eye-level.

He crosses his arms, smug. “How about now?”

You stare at him for a beat before snorting and looking away. “Oh, cute. You’re cheating.”

“It’s not cheating,” he huffs. “It’s called adapting. Something tall people clearly don’t have to learn.”

You turn away, lips twitching—but he follows again. Still hovering. Still in your space. Like a very bloodied, very persistent, superpowered gnat.

“Are you seriously gonna keep doing this?” you snap finally, whirling on him. “Following me around, trying to flirt your way into my pants just because I’m taller?”

Mark shrugs. “Not just because you’re taller. Also because you threw a Lizard League grunt into a concrete wall with one arm last week. That was hot.”

You groan. “You are so—”

“Annoying? Yeah. But I’m also strong. I can handle you.” His voice drops, eyes gleaming. “Wanna test it?”

Your jaw clenches. And before you know it—you shove him.

Hard.

He slams back against the wall with a heavy thud, eyes going wide. Dust falls from the ceiling. His boots touch back down on the ground from the impact.

You expect him to get mad. Or fly off.

Instead, Mark looks up at you like you just handed him the meaning of life. Chest rising. Mouth open slightly.

“…Shit,” he breathes. “Fuck yeah. That’s the stuff.”

Your brows shoot up. “The what now?”

“Do it again.”

You stare at him.

He grins, lazy and dangerous. “C’mon. I know you wanna. What else are those arms for, baby?”

You lean in, crowding his space. “You really want someone who could break you in half?”

Mark leans back just a little—just enough to let you loom over him—but his voice doesn’t waver.

“Desperately—but also, you couldn't.”

Mark’s still pressed to the wall, grinning like he’s just tasted heaven. You on the other hand are already halfway across the warehouse again, muttering under your breath as you heave up another beam.

“That’s it?” he calls after you. “You shove me into a wall and just… walk off?”

You don’t look at him. “Should’ve braced harder.”

“Oh my god.” He sounds genuinely breathless. “Are you my dream girl?”

You let out a short, dry laugh. “Didn’t I just tell you I’m not into short guys?”

Mark lets out a long, theatrical groan—then zooms out the busted window and vanishes.

You shake your head, hoping he’s finally given up.

He, in fact, has not.

Five minutes later, you’re dragging a piece of a broken pillar across the lot when a loud CRACK shatters the air behind you. You whirl—

—and see Mark, bare-handed, hoisting an entire collapsed support wall over his shoulder like it’s a sack of flour.

“Hey!” he yells, chest heaving. “Did you see that?!”

You stare.

“…Mark, what the hell are you doing?”

“Helping!”

He turns on his heel dramatically and launches the crumbled wall into a neat pile a hundred yards away. The ground trembles when it lands.

Then he flies back over, too fast, barely missing your head as he lands in front of you.

“I can do more,” he says. “Watch this—”

“Aren’t you one of the ones who fucked all this up in the first place?!” you snap.

He pauses just a beat. Then he shrugs, grinning. “Yeah. But that was before I saw you.”

He lifts his hands and makes a heart with his fingers.

Right in front of his face.

You glare. “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he says brightly. “But I’m an idiot who just carried an entire wall to flirt with you. That’s gotta count for something.”

You roll your eyes so hard it might count as exercise. “I’m going back to work.”

But you don’t tell him to leave.

And he knows it.

Mark hovers next to you in smug silence for a second, then plucks up a truck axle with one hand like it weighs nothing.

“…You are kind of strong,” you admit quietly, just once.

His smile was blinding.

—

It’d been over a week since he started following you.

Not in a creepy way. Not exactly. Just… there.

Always.

Floating beside you during cleanup shifts. Showing up “coincidentally” wherever you grabbed lunch. Offering to carry everything—even when you were already holding it just fine. He’d pop in with dumb nicknames, smug grins, and zero shame.

You told yourself it was annoying.

You told yourself you weren’t entertained.

You definitely told yourself he wasn’t attractive.

And yet here he was once again—sitting on your front steps when you get home from work, legs stretched out across the concrete, leaning back on his elbows like he’s the leading role in some bad romance movie. The sky above him is a bruised purple, streetlamps flickering to life.

His face lights up the second he sees you.

“Heyyy baby girl.”

You bag falls off your shoulder, barely catching on the crook of your arm. “Don’t call me that.”

He sits up, propping his chin on his fist. “How was work?”

“Shitty.”

“Ooooh. One of those days, huh?” He grins wider, like he’s actually excited about that answer.

You brush past him and unlock the door, but you leave it open behind you. Just a few inches.

He sees it. His eyes flick up the sky like he had to say a quick prayer before vanishing inside behind you. He's already sliding out of his boots like he lives there, and you don’t notice at first. Too busy fixing yourself a drink in the kitchen. But when you turn around.

He’s close.

Close enough to breathe your air. Close enough you can see the fading mark on his jawline—lord knows from what.

He looks up at you, soft and amused, and says, “You wanna hit me?”

Your breathing catches.

“You wanna take it out on something?” he adds, stepping closer, tilting his head like he’s inviting it. “I can take it.”

Something in you snaps.

Faster than you can think, you grabbed the front of his shirt and shoved him back into the nearest wall. The hanging pictures shift on their nails.

His mouth parts—but he doesn’t protest. In fact he looks giddy. “Ohh fuck,” he murmurs, grinning like a lunatic. “Yes. This again.”

You kiss him hard—teeth hard—biting the bottom of his lip just to make him flinch. His hands hover, unsure whether to touch or not. You don’t give him the chance.

You slam him again. Hands pinning his wrists up by his head.

“You said you could take it?” you growl.

He nods, breathless. “I meant it.”

You grip his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “You’re stronger than me.” He nods again. “But you’re gonna let me pretend you’re not.”

His eyes flutter. “God, yes.”

You kiss him again, rough and unrelenting, pouring every ounce of your anger, your exhaustion, your need to take control into the motion. And he lets you. Takes it. Gasps under you, matching your movements without ever once trying to take over.

He could flip the script in an instant.

But he doesn’t.

Not when you shove him onto the couch. Not when you straddle him. Not when you keep him exactly where you want him.

“...Not bad,” you mutter against his mouth.

He exhales shakily. “You’re incredible.”

[wisteria-bae]

THE FATU CHRONICLES - 1

Paring: Naomi x OC! (Deja) x Jimmy

Divider by @cafekitsune.

Summary: Porn, no plot. Used as practice for 3somes (2am ovulating hits hard).

A/N: I am so terrified rn, but as promised, here you go @charmed-dreamssss ! Now, there are two more scenes that I couldn't fit, so I may make a part 2 and 3, depends on my anxiety lmao. Speaking of, I'm gonna go log off for the rest of the week now, bye 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

SMUTTY ASF, MDNI <3

DEJA was flat on her back, writhing against soft white sheets, her thighs twitching with every flick of his wrist. Her brown eyes fluttered shut, then flew open again, only to fall closed once more - lost in the waves of pleasure crashing through her.

This was all her fault.

Had she remembered to switch back over from her private tab, they wouldn't have seen all the saved videos on there. They would've just looked up a restaurant on Google like planned, and been on their way. Hell, Deja could have even been knocked out by now, deep in La La Land.

But no, she fucked up and now she had to pay for it.

A wet slap echoed in the room, jolting her back from her spiraling thoughts. Her hips jerked upwards as a sudden sting prickled between her legs. Looking down, she locks eyes with Jimmy who stared up at her like a man starved - wild, dark-eyed, pupils blown wide with lust. He didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed his two thick fingers back into her now slightly red and stinging pussy.

Deja arched from the mixture of pain and pleasure that was overwhelming her senses, gasping with a sharp breath, "Oh my God, yes!"

He was making music with her pussy; he flexed and scissored them slowly before curling deep with precision. The slick, obscene sounds filled the air, getting louder the more he skillfully moved his hand.

"I'm touching my pussy?" He asked, voice a deep rumble in his chest that made her wall clamp around him like a vice. “Hm? I’m all up in my pussy, ain’t I?”

“Yes, baby,” Deja moaned, slurring the words, “Ooo you all up in there, so fuckin’ deep.”

Jimmy gave a low hum of approval before glancing down at the floor, “Not as deep as my dick in her throat.”

Below him was Naomi, on all fours, leaned in close, lips sealed tight around his cock. She moaned in response to the praise, sucking harder, hollowing her cheeks. He rewarded her with a few quick, brutal thrusts, making her choke just enough to earn a gleam in his eyes.

He reached down with his free hand, grabbed Naomi by her hair, and pulled her mouth off his dick with a clean, filthy pop.

Taking the opportunity, Jimmy spit straight into her mouth. Naomi swallowed it eagerly, her tongue immediately sliding along his length again - slick with spit, warm, hungry. She didn’t miss a beat, swirling her tongue around the head before taking him deep again, all the way to the base.

Jimmy exhaled hard, his eyes fluttering shut. “Ohh, yeah. She’s takin’ it real deep. I’m talkin’ all the way, baby.”

He glanced over at Deja, who was already staring up at him, lips parted, chest rising quick, hanging onto his every word.

“You can take it all the way too, can’t you, Pretty Girl?”

Deja nodded with her bottom lip poked out, eyes full of heat and need. That look alone made his cock twitch hard; Naomi gagged again around him, but Jimmy was already shifting focus, leaning forward, spreading Deja’s thighs wider with one hand.

“Yeahhh,” he growled, “Let’s take it all the way.”

He shoved his fingers back into her with a speed that made her jerk, the sudden stretch dragging a loud cry from her throat. Deja’s pussy squelches and gushed at the action - slick, swollen, and so damn responsive. Puffy pink lips fluttered around his knuckles, struggling to keep him out, but already giving in. Juices were slowly trickling out and onto the bed, making a small wet spot.

Jimmy wanted to make that spot bigger. He wanted to make her squirt right then and there - he could have done so easily. But, then the memories of what Naomi found on Deja’s phone came flooding back and he had to close his eyes to pace himself. He could make her squirt in the morning, tonight they were fulfilling her desires one fuck at a time.

Jimmy’s fingers plunged in and out of her relentlessly, dragging over every sensitive ridge inside her. Deja’s moans came in broken, breathy bursts, her hips twitching with each stroke. Her curls stuck to her damp forehead, chest rising and falling like she’d just run a mile.

“Look at you,” he murmured, eyes locked on her soaked center. “So fuckin’ messy for me.”

Deja bit her bottom lip but couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped when he twisted his fingers inside her, pressing up into that soft, spongy spot that made her toes curl. Her thighs tensed around his hand, and she reached down, blindly gripping at the sheets as if to ground herself.

“Jimmy,” she gasped, “I can’t- baby, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he cut in, his voice firm but low, coaxing her toward that edge. “You gon’ come for me right here. All over my fingers. I feel it, shit, she’s fuckin’ creaming.”

Deja’s back arched again, her body betraying her best efforts to ignore pleasure just for a little longer. Her pussy clenched down hard, a desperate rhythm, fluttering around his fingers like it was trying to pull him in deeper.

He leaned over her, pressing soft and wet kisses all over her stomach and pussy mound. “Don’t hold back, baby,” he mumbled into her skin, “Let go. Daddy's got you.”

Deja’s breath hitched as she tried to hold on until she just couldn't.

Her whole body jolted: legs trembling, stomach tightening, and a high, desperate moan pouring from her throat as she came. Her pussy squeezed his fingers in pulsing waves, wetter than ever now, creamy slick dripping down the crease of her ass. Jimmy never slowed, working her through every second, pushing her through the aftershocks with more hot kisses until she was squirming and crying out again from oversensitivity.

He pulled his fingers slowly and gently, staring down at her wrecked body with pride.

“Look at you,” he said again, softer now. “My pretty girl.”

Deja lay limp, lips parted, breath shuddering. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, glossy and dazed, still caught in the afterglow. Jimmy looked back down at Naomi, his fingers still glistening with Deja’s slick. He offered them to her without a word.

Naomi’s eyes lit up. She opened her mouth and took them in, slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact with him. Her tongue curled around each digit like she was savoring a treat meant just for her. When she pulled off with a soft pop, she hummed low in her throat.

“There you go, mamas,” he praised, dragging his wet fingers down her chin before turning his attention back to Deja.

She was still laid out, breathless and glowing, her thighs slightly parted like her body hadn’t figured out how to close again. Jimmy leaned over and kissed the inside of her knee, trailing soft kisses up the length of her calf, slow and reverent now.

“Came so hard for me, Pretty Girl,” he murmured, lips brushing over her skin. “But we not done with you yet.”

Naomi got off the floor and crawled up beside Deja, her naked body warm and close. One of Naomi’s hands slid gently up Deja’s neck, while the other was gripping her hair firmly, lifting her into a slow, open-mouthed kiss. Deja melted into it, tasting herself on Naomi’s lips, moaning softly into her mouth. Jimmy sat back for a second, watching them with a dark hunger in his eyes, stroking himself slowly.

Naomi’s lips migrated across Deja’s cheek and down her neck to her sternum, where she paused, feeling the frantic pulse beneath her skin. That made her smile - Deja was still riding the edge, breathless and dazed, already on the verge of unraveling again.

Naomi turned her head, dragged her tongue over the swell of Deja’s breast, then wrapped her lips around one nipple and sucked hard.

Deja cried out softly, arching into her mouth, the sudden heat making her hips roll instinctively. Naomi didn’t let up, she flicked her tongue in tight, teasing circles before switching to the other breast, kissing and sucking, leaving glistening trails behind. Her hand never left Deja’s hair, holding her steady, grounding her in the moment.

“Mmm,” Naomi hummed against her skin, her voice low and hungry. “You're still so sensitive…”

“Too sensitive,” Deja whispered, squirming, but there was no real protest in her voice. Her eyes fluttered open, finding Jimmy’s dark gaze still locked on her.

He was still on his knees on the floor, hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking slow and steady. The muscles in his thighs were flexing, the veins in his forearm standing out as he watched her fall apart again under Naomi’s mouth. He couldn't help but mumble out soft moans as Naomi straddles Deja, breast still in mouth, and arches her back to where her glistening pussy presented itself to Jimmy.

Naomi didn't even have to ask. He immediately stood up - one foot on the floor, one knee bent on the bed - and spread Naomi's soft checks apart. He wasted no time in dragging his thick and hot tongue all over her pussy, swirling around eagerly trying to collect as much juices and slick as he could. And when he gathered all of that, he pushed his tongue deep inside Naomi, searching for more. Taken by surprise, Jimmy's actions caused Naomi to buckle forwards, removing the hand wrapped in Deja's hair to brace herself against the headboard. Moaning into her skin, Naomi sucks, licks, and nips at Deja's chest, making the two mounds glistening with a sinful mixture of spit and her own cum.

Deja could barely keep still now - Naomi's weight atop her, the heat of her mouth, and now the deep, rhythmic moans Jimmy let out between her thighs - it was all too much. Her breath hitched again, thighs trembling as Naomi’s teeth grazed her nipple just right.

"Fuck," Deja whimpered, arching into the contact, her back bowing prettily.

Naomi smiled against her skin, lips wet and slightly swollen. “That’s it, Pretty Girl. Stay right there for me.”

Behind her, Jimmy was devouring Naomi with the passion of a starved man. His fingers dug into her ass as he licked and fucked her with his mouth, tongue working in deep, filthy circles. When Naomi moaned loud against Deja’s chest, it vibrated through her ribcage, and Deja swore she could feel it all the way down to her pussy.

Naomi's hips rocked back into Jimmy’s face involuntarily, chasing his tongue, and he responded with a low, pleased grunt that only spurred her on more. She spread her legs wider, bracing herself fully, and looked down at Deja with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes.

"You wanna know what he's doing?" Naomi whispered breathlessly against Deja’s throat. “He’s eating my pussy while I suck on these big ass titties." She slapped Deja's left breast, causing it to jiggle and bounce slightly. "Mhm, we got him real fuckin' hungry tonight.”

Deja nodded, dizzy and dazed, lips parted as her hands gripped the sheets tight. Her body felt like it was floating - no thought, just heat and want and sensation.

Naomi tried to return to her assault on Deja’s breasts, but Jimmy was eating her pussy like he was trying to swallow her soul - his whole mouth engulfed her, full and lush beard rubbing hard against her clit and inner thighs. Naomi couldn’t help herself; she started grinding on his face, head thrown back in pleasure, moaning wildly as her breasts bounced right in front of Deja’s face.

"Unh, unh, unh, Jim-my! Fuck Daddy, that's right, eat my pussy. Eat my fucking pussy!"

While Naomi praised him, Deja had her own mission. She was playing fishhook with Naomi’s breasts, tongue out and mouth wide as she stretched her neck to catch one of her nipples. She missed once, twice, then finally locked her lips around the lucky one, sucking hard, flicking her tongue around like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

Naomi almost collapsed from the double-team. She whimpered, body shaking, hips pushing into Jimmy’s mouth while her hands flew to Deja’s head, cradling it close.

Loud moans and sloppy, wet smacks - like straight-up water - echoed from where Jimmy worked, his tongue thrusting deep while his palms gripped her ass, encouraging her to ride his face. He met every bounce with a matching thrust of his tongue, then smacked her cheeks twice, the sound sharp and filthy. “Ooo, y’all,” Naomi cried out, voice cracking, “Y’all got me leaking! Unh - holy shit, this feels so good. I’m gonna cum in a minute, oh my God!”

Fuck a minute, Deja and Jimmy thought at the same time.

Without a word, they both intensified their rhythm: Jimmy’s tongue pressing deeper, and Deja’s mouth sucking harder. Naomi didn’t stand a chance. She fell apart in less than twenty seconds, her body jerked as the first wave hit her - back arched, mouth parted in a silent scream before it cracked into a loud, guttural cry.

“FUCK, I’m-!” Her sentence broke off into a helpless sob as her thighs trembled and ass shook against Jimmy's face. She tensed up hard, the orgasm ripping through her like a shockwave, her pussy clenching against Jimmy’s tongue, slick gushing with no mercy.

Deja held her through it, arms locked tight around her waist, mouth never leaving her nipple. She sucked like she was trying to drink Naomi dry, her tongue flicking relentlessly, determined to ride that high with her. Naomi collapsed forward again, this time allowing herself to fall on top of Deja, burying her face into her neck with trembling kisses and broken gasps, mumbling incoherent praise against her damp skin.

Jimmy finally pulled back with a wet gasp of his own, face absolutely soaked, beard glistening with Naomi’s release. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking, chest heaving.

“Yeah,” he chuckled darkly, admiring the view of Naomi shuddering on top of Deja. “Now that's how I like to eat.”

Naomi didn’t even have the strength to sass him. Her body was boneless, draped across Deja like a satisfied, sweaty blanket.

Deja giggled breathlessly, still licking her lips. “She said a minute,” she murmured, taunting, voice low and teasing. “Didn’t even last half of one.”

“I was set up,” Naomi panted, muffled against her neck. “Y’all some cheatin’ ass freaks.”

Jimmy leaned over and kissed Naomi’s spine, then licked a slow stripe up between her shoulder blades just to make her shiver.

“You love it though,” Jimmy murmured, voice low and rough. Then his gaze snapped over to Deja, eyes burning with that same hunger from before.

“My pussy need a longer break or what?”

He wasn’t really asking, he already knew the answer. Without waiting for confirmation, he gently shifted Naomi to the side, letting her catch her breath. Then he climbed fully onto the bed, settling between Deja’s thighs like he belonged there.

Her body was already trembling, cunt still glistening, lips parted, breath catching as her eyes locked on him. She looked starved for him - just as desperate as he was.

Deja reached for him, fingertips grazing his jaw. “Mm-mm. She ready, Big Daddy. She want it all. Don’t hold back.”

Jimmy growled low in his throat and grabbed her thighs, pushing them up until her knees kissed her chest, folding her open. “Is that what she said?” he asked, voice husk with lust. He dragged his middle finger through her folds, slow and deliberate, groaning at the creamy sound. “Mmm, she talking. Pretty ass pussy. I’m ‘bout to eat it.”

“Yeah,” Deja moaned, arching her hips, “Eat her, baby.”

Jimmy leaned in and gave her a long, filthy stripe up her pussy, then pulled back with a smirk and a click of his teeth. “Sweet ass pussy. Don’t make no fucking sense.”

He dove back in, this time swirling his tongue around her clit, teasing it with lazy, wet circles. Deja twitched, gasping, hips trying to chase his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hummed against her, licking again, deeper, messier. “Imma get my fill tonight. Y’all gon’ feed me today.”

Next

A/N: So that was the first part… as you can see this stuff is LONG 🤣 I’ll start editing the second part tmr, hope y’all enjoyed it! Any feedback is much appreciated!

Taglist:

@uceyliyahh @charmed-dreamssss @darkandlight00 @moxley99

[batsandbirdbrains]

No idea what would end up happening in this one but

The one where Thomas and Martha Wayne are magically resurrected for like idk a week

But I want it to be the season 1 yj team that stumbles across them first and has to deal with them. Let’s make it be because of Klarion. Maybe he does some spell to resurrect the team’s grandparents, but lmao Robin is the only one with any dead grandparents somehow (at least on Earth) and for whatever reason, the spell latches onto the Waynes.

And while Klarion is cackling and disappearing into the void, Robin is just staring at the Waynes going “ooooh we fucked up. We really fucked up. Fuck.”

And the others just don’t recognize them. Not even Artemis, who’s from Gotham. They died long enough ago that a younger Gothamite wouldn’t necessarily recognize them.

So Robin just rushed over to them and is like “Heeyyy so I’m gonna need to you to come with us and not say your names and please just be very cool until I get you to Batman please.”

“What is a Batman.”

And Robin is giggling so nervously, a little hysterically, and he just whispers mostly to himself, “omg he’s gonna kill me”

“Robin who are these two?”

“That’s not important!!” Robin is so stressed. “No more questions please let’s just get back to the ship let’s get out of here let’s skedaddle!”

And while they’re on the bioship, Thomas and Martha are still asking so many questions and Robin eventually, reluctantly, tells them through a nervous laugh, “haha well you see, I’m sort of uh, your grandson? In a way?”

“What does that mean?” Thomas is having none of this.

Meanwhile Martha is pleased as punch and starts doting over him so much and fixing his hair and his cape and brushing the dust and dirt off his shoulders.

“Oh you’re just darling!” She gushes. “A grandson! And how old is our son now?”

Because Dick has already explained that they’ve been dead for quite some time. They’ve come to terms with it. And they’ve also gathered the secret identity thing he not so subtly whispered to them about, so they’re being very careful to avoid names.

“Oh, you know,” Dick chuckles, “he’s dad-aged. Sort of.”

Martha thinks he’s just so charming. Thomas is suspicious.

Wally actually snorts so hard at Batman being called “dad-aged” that the Gatorade he was drinking squirts out of his nose. Robin points and laughs at him.

When the ship lands, Dick rushes out and says in a high, panicked voice, “B, we have a situation!”

Bruce almost passes out when he sees his parents walk out of the ship. They look exactly the same as they did the night they died.

“Holy shit.”

Martha scolds him for his language. Thomas narrows his eyes and glances between Batman and Robin.

“Why does he not call you dad?”

And from here it can go one of two ways:

1. They find out Dick is adopted and then they move right on to become doting loving grandparents, it’s just that Thomas was getting confused about the reluctancy of Dick to call Bruce ‘dad’ on the bioship. He’d even stuttered over the word grandson. When he realizes it’s because Dick was just nervous about using the words because he wasn’t sure how they’d react when they found out he was adopted, they reassure him there’s no problem with it and they’re very excited to meet him. Thomas was just cautious that it might have been a trap of some sort.

Or for the angstier version

2. Dick ends up fleeing back to Mount Justice shortly after they’d all left for the batcave to explain things to Thomas and Martha, because they’d blatantly called him a gypsy and a street rat when Bruce told them Dick grew up in the circus and he adopted him after his parents died. Dick gets so upset, because Martha had been so nice to him and he’d really kind of enjoyed having a grandma for the first time he could remember, and now she’s looking at him like he’s dirt beneath her shoe. And they’re insisting he’s not really family, he’s not really a Wayne, and so he runs to Mount Justice and explains as vaguely as he can that they’re Batman’s parents and since he’s not actually Batman’s biological son, they don’t want him around and he doesn’t want to be around them anyway. He leaves out the gypsy shit and the street rat shit, but Wally can read between the lines, and he does his best to distract Dick.

Bruce comes back to check on him almost immediately, and he tries to convince Dick to come home, but he refuses to while they’re there.

“I know you miss them a lot and I’m sorry I’m ruining it for you but, but-“

“You’re not ruining anything,” Bruce whispers to him, holding Dick’s shoulders tightly. “You’ve done nothing wrong. They’re way out of line. You’re my son, whether they like it or not.”

Bruce sighs, because he can see that Dick is genuinely very upset.

“You can stay up here for now, if you want,” Bruce tells him. “Zatara says the spell that’s keeping them here will last a week at the longest. But I’ll come here to see you everyday if you don’t want to be home while they’re there.”

Dick just nods his head, not wanting to speak anymore. Bruce sits with him for a long time, just holding him, until he has to go back after a worried call from Alfred.

“Il come back in the morning,” Bruce tells him. “I’ll bring breakfast.”

“Okay,” Dick whispers. “Tell Alfie I said goodnight.”

Bruce is so upset his parents have upset Dick so much, but he’s really at a loss for what to do. He can’t just have them go stay at a hotel, they’re supposed to be dead. But at least he knows Dick has somewhere safe to stay in the meantime.

[jefth3kilr]

naruto boys and one of their random and insanely specific kinks (lol) 🍃🎋

Includes: Kakashi; Gai; Jiraiya; naruto; sasuke; kiba; shino; neji; lee; shikamaru; gaara; kankuro

warnings: NSFW (MINORS DNI) bit of bdsm and rougher topics all charecters are aged up!! naruto and students are around 19-20

not proof read! requests are open!!!

Kakashi

power play.

I know it might seem a little ooc, but trust, I feel like he'd be really into power play.

and while yes he loves it when you call him master and get all obedient for him; I also think he would really like calling you mistress and submitting to you.

Like yes he will definitely get on his knees and kiss your legs and 'earn' your permission to fuck you. He's down for all that freaky shit.

but if you tell anyone about this he'd probably jump off the nearest building LMAO he would get so embarrassed.

Gai

praise praise praise.

please praise him LMAO.

Gai already likes praise in general, but praise from you!? he's already nutting in his pants.

Also I'm giving him another: fake rivalry.

Clearly Gai is obsessed with having a rival (cough cough Kakashi)

So if y'all kinda role-play and pretend to be rivals while fucking, he will be so hype. He would feel accomplished lolll

Jiraiya

Exhibitionism

I mean like what the hell doesn't turn Jiraiya on?

I think that he definitely likes being a little public with it, it exciting and it also turns him on knowing he's the only who can do this to you.

I don't think he'd like having full on naked sex out int he open, but he would definitely like teasing you and stuff.

Jiraiya would definitely put one of those wireless remote control vibrators in your before taking a 'nice' walk around the village at night. He would random turn it on, messing with the intensity constantly before turning it off again. It would suck for you, but he loves watching you fall apart and have trouble walking.

He also makes out with you in public. sorry not sorry. He doesn't care who tf y'all are in front of off, he will kiss you silly wherever and whenever he wants.

Oh in bar bathrooms...for get about it. You've probably been bent over evert bathroom counter int he village at least twice by now. You'd think because of his age he wouldn't have so much stamina....but trust he does.

Naruto

Breathing

Naruto is so happy that you chose him a lover, so it only makes sense that he obsessed with everything about you. And the loves listening to you breathe.

While yes, it helps him fall asleep and night to hear your sleepy breathing and listen to your heart beat in your chest.

But it also heavily turns him on when he sees your chest deeply heave after your coming down from your high And it definitely turns him on to hear your breathy, desperate, little gasps when your trying to reach that said high.

Like yes please make out with him and breathe in his ear while your hump this shit out of him. He goes crazy for stuff like that.

After your done with a training session, and your breathing all heard and your chest is going up and down, expect Naruto to drag you to the nearest bathroom LMAO.

Sasuke

his ears

hear me out

Sasuke's ears are sooo sensitive, but he would rather die than admit it.

One day you decide to test out something you read; something about how licking the other shell of someone's ear can be hot. So while you and Sasuke are making out, you test it out. And he will dead ass cum in his pants. From then on, you do it all the time.

If your want to tease him, whisper something in his ear, even if it's super casual. Just feeling your lips by his ear and listening to your soft voice is enough to drive him up the wall.

And if you nip his ear...he's a goner.

Shikamaru

Sexting

I mean Shikamaru is like super lazy, so texting each other becomes a very common thing. Even if y'all are in the same house, cuddling each other on the same damn bed, he will still text you instead of actually talking. (he claims it saves his energy)

Surprisingly, Shika is really good at dirty talk, he just doesn't do it because he's lazy. But texting you all that dirty talk...he can def do that.

You'll be in class and get a text from him, expecting just a casual 'wyd' message and instead get a whole paragraph like: 'when your get home I'm gonna ******* and the I'm gonna ******** you're so fucking **** I can't wait to *****.' you can never catch a break with this guy.

And if you lock eyes with him in class after reading that, he will look super casual LMAO

Kiba

scent.

i mean we all know Kiba has a crazy sense of smell, so obviously he would be able to track your scent no matter where you are. so he knows what you smell like. he knows how your natural musk is and what your perfume smells like too.

Kiba would definitely know right away if you switched perfumes. he’d probably pout about it at first because he liked the other one but after a couple of days he’ll get used to it. also if you wear too much of it, expect him to sneeze A LOT.

but anyway, he loves to smell you during sex. wether that be shoving his face into the crook of your neck and taking in your scent, or being all gross and sniffing your panties (which you always yell at him for but you secretly like it) he LOVES your scent.

sometimes, when he’s really desperate for you, he’ll beg you to let him smell you.

“Just a sniff baby, i need it. I need you.”

how can you say no to him when he’s looking at you with those sad puppy eyes? 🥺

Shino

hickeys

since no one can really see his neck because of his big ass coat, feel free to leave as many as possible.

I think he finds it very romantic to be able to mark each other like that. He also finds the feeling very sensual to kiss and suck on someone's neck. He also enjoys that's feeling on himself.

If you were to ever to show off your hickeys, wearing nothing but a tank top outside in public. He would pass tf out LMAO he loves it.

He's secretly very possessive.

Neji

hair pulling.

this goes both ways.

First of all, he has that long ass hair. I also feel like Neji can get a bit bossy sometimes, so if you want him to shut the hell up, just pull him by his hair.

The first time you did it, it was probably an accident. But when you saw his blushing face and a tent forming in his pants, you knew you had to do that again.

I also feel like Neji is a bit quiet during sex, but trust if you pull on his hair, he will start moaning like a girl.

But second; he also loves to pull your hair. When he's feeling extra dominant and he wants you to submit, he will definitely pull your head back by your hair while giving your the nastiest back shots known to man kind.

He is also the type to put your hair into a makeshift ponytail while you blow him.

Lee

Overstimulation.

I think Lee really likes it when you guys treat sex like training. (I read a fic about this lmao)

Like please let him finger you into oblivion, it gives him a good arm workout. But don't expect to be done after he's made you cum 5 times on his fingers, he still needs to work out the other arm too!

Lee is someone who can NEVVERRR do a quickie, since he has so much stamina from training, he can go round and round after round.

Literally, you could have done like 9 rounds and he is still amped up on energy.

And do NOT squirt around him, he be determined to make your squirt at least 6 more times before letting you take a break.

But of course, if you really need a break or want to stop, he will gladly give you as much time as you need, he's still a sweet boy. (call him sweet boy and he will nut instantly)

Gaara

dry humping

sometimes it just takes so much energy to get fully unclothed and actually commit to having sex. Also since Gaara isn't a super sexual person in the sense that he doesn't really like to get undress and all that other stuff, dry humping is such a good alternative.

I also HC that Gaara is a bit submissive, I mean he will def Dom you sometimes but regular he will usually submit to you and listen to you (bc you love him and he feels like this is a way he can prove that he loves u too)

Imagine after a long day, your both exhausted but still so pent up. So your just in his lap, grinding away while your heavily makeout and pull at each other's hair. Trust he will be nutting in his pants.

And if you also whisper sweet nothings to him...he's done for.

Kankuro

bondage

need i say more?

trust he will tie you up with his chakra strings and eat you out until your sobbing....

He definitely finds it hot that your comfortable enough with him to allow him to tie you up and be at his mercy (he also lokey has a power complex soooo)