#and if another of the boys needs to be there as well then I personally would love it to be Mikey but I could see arguments otherwise

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[miedei]

heyoo🫶 idk if your spencer requests are still open but all I've been able to think about for weeks is s4ep9 spencer being the most adorable nerd when he was warning the women at the club about the serial and them being the reader's friends going back to the reader with like drinks or whatever laughing about "that nerdy loser" at which reader's practically frothing at the mouth asking them "WHERE" and then hardcore flirting with an oblivious (and/or blushing mess) spence to the team's amusement and reader just thinking "need me a pathetic loser like that" (affectionate). im not even sure this makes sense but i just go feral for nerd reid. im really looking forward to reading this and thank you in advance if you do write this🥰

REAL REAL REAL need me a pathetic loser boy

peacocking

spencer gets hit on at the club!!

wc: 1.2k

cw: none i think?? spence is cute and pathetic, r is the kind of flirty i only aspire to be

(PS: reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

The club is busy, lighting dim, the music so loud that you can feel the bass thumping in your chest. It's a stark difference from the brightly-lit bathroom you just emerged from, wearing three new products of makeup courtesy of the drunken friends you've just made.

The crowd is thick, and you can just barely spot your friends, huddled around a hard-won table. You push through people, not bothering to apologise, until you've returned to the group.

You're greeted with whoops and cheers, and a drink is pushed into your hand before you can even sit down. Alcohol-fueled shouts leave their mouths, and you get the distinct feeling that they've somehow had at least two more rounds in the time you've been gone. You can barely focus on one person's speech, the words overlapping in their excitement.

"-and he was, like, the hottest guy I've ever seen!"

"-but he wouldn't take my number because he was working, and-"

"-his friend was pretty awkward though-"

"-like a string bean! Nerdy as hell, think it was his first time in a club-"

"-was like he'd never spoken to a woman before, kept talking about the serial killer-"

You hold up a hand, a little bewildered at the bombardment of information.

"Hold on- serial killer?" One of your friends shakes her head a little, as if clearing her mind.

"Not here, at least they pretty sure. Some creep's been picking up women and killing them at clubs, so there were cops or something here giving out fliers." A flier is thrusted into your hand, a sketch of a guy looking up at you.

"And, one of the cop guys was gorgeous! Adonis, Casanova, whatever the fuck you'd call him, he was so pretty..." She sighs wistfully, pointing across the room to a gaggle of women surrounding a well-built guy holding fliers like the one in your hand.

"The other guy was a little sad, though. Real nerd type."

Another voice butts in. "Yeah! I mean, look at him, I feel a little bad for him, he's clearly striking out and he's here for his job."

The pointing finger shifts, and your attention is directed to a lanky guy standing towards the edges of the crowd, near the bar. He looks nervous, hands fiddling with the stack of fliers he's got, and he doesn't seem to be trying to approach anyone anymore.

He's clearly uncomfortable, skittish in his stance. A nerd to his core, probably never the type to be wading through a crowd like this. He looks a little pathetic.

You've got to have him.

You tell your friends as much, and are met with drunken encouragement, slaps on the back and reminders to use protection. Setting down the flyer and your drink, you steel yourself, smoothing back your hair before walking with purpose across the room.

Once you near him, you slide onto a barstool, flagging down the bartender and pretending not to notice the new love of your life. He's clearly clocked you, and seems to be trying to work up the courage to approach you. Once you've given your order, you decide to make it easier for him.

Turning on the stool, you look up at him, eyes slightly hooded.

"You not having fun? It's a club, you should probably unbutton that shirt a little." It's thrilling, the way his eyes widen and he looks around him, as if you could be speaking to anyone else right now.

"Well, I actually- I'm actually here for my work, so..." His cheeks flush, and you continue with the oblivious act.

"Work? I've got to say, you're gorgeous, but I didn't think you were the type to be hired as a waiter here." You gesture to the scantily-clad waitress that passes you. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, before seemingly remembering something. He rifles through his leather bag, producing a wallet with ID.

"Um, no, I don't work here. I'm- I'm an FBI agent. Doctor Spencer Reid. H-hi." Cute and smart? It's a wonder you haven't slid right off your stool.

"Yeah? And what are you doing here, Doctor Reid? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate being able to ogle you, but this doesn't exactly seem like the place for the FBI to be doing their investigating." You nod your thanks at the bartender, and run your finger along the rim of your glass, eyes locked onto Spencer's.

"Oh! Yeah," He fumbles with the papers in his hand, before holding one out to you. "There's a, um, serial killer? He's in the area, and he's targeting women at clubs like these... so," You lean forward, eyes not wavering from his, relishing in the way Spencer's eyes widen at the motion.

"So?" You prompt.

"So, uh, we're handing out those sketches," His hand, trembling slightly, comes up to point at the flyer in your hand. "and warning women to be on the lookout, not go home with anyone they don't know."

Your lips pinch slightly together, exaggerating your concern. "Oh god, Doctor Reid, that's really scary. What can I do to keep safe?"

His shoulders drop from where they were tensed near his ear, seemingly in his comfort zone here.

"Well, the unsub- the suspect is seeking validation from people, he wants women to chase him. If you meet any guys who try and play hard to get, possibly dressed flaboyantly, stay away and tell the police." You tilt your head questioningly, prompting him to continue.

"He's peacocking. It's a method that some people use to draw attention away from their faces. By using some ornate and distracting piece of clothing, he's diverting attention away from his face." His hands fly around him wildly as he speaks, long fingers wriggling and punctuating his words.

"Uh huh? So this... sweater." Your hand comes up, nearly unconsiously, to fiddle with the woolen texture of the sweater he's got on over his shirt. His hands still midair.

"It's distracting me plenty. Is that peacocking? But I've gotta say, I don't think anything would draw my attention away from that face." His eyes widen further, lips quivering as if he's struggling to come up with words.

"Um, I- I don't think, this isn't- isn't peacocking. This is just... how I dress." Your smirk widens further, hand still twisted in the collar of his sweater. The other agent, the one your friends pointed out earlier, sidles up behind him, but pauses, observing your conversation without butting in. You've only got a little time left.

"Well, I guess you're just that captivating then. You got a pen?" You let go of his clothes, watching him flounder for a second before pulling a pen out of his pocket, holding it out to you wordlessly.

Taking it with a smile, you begin to scribble your number down on the corner of the flyer in your hand.

"I think I'm missing out, if you dress like this every day." You finish writing with a flourish, tearing out your number and tucking it in his pocket along with his pen.

"Call me, okay? Keep me safe from the killer." You pat his shoulder, brushing past him with a smile.

(If the music were any quieter, you would've heard Spencer being interrogated by Derek the moment you leave, and the subsequent call to the rest of the team to inform them of the news. Penelope falls off her chair in excitement.)

[steddieas-shegoes]

you and all of your new perspective

for @steddiesongfics using 'new perspective' by noah kahan

also on ao3

rated m | 3,513 words | no cw | tags: rock star eddie munson, good uncle wayne munson, mutual pining, yearning, post-vecna, love confessions, idiots in love, first kiss, implied sexual content, getting together

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

He’s looking down at the letter and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie visiting him.

In Hawkins.

Where Eddie swore he’d never come back to the moment he got his ticket out of here.

“Starin’ at it ain’t gonna make him not come,” Wayne says from across the counter. “Surprised he didn’t call ya to tell ya.”

“He…he left a few messages,” Steve explains, setting the letter down and resting his face in his hands. “I just figured he wouldn’t come if I didn’t call him back.”

Wayne raises a brow, gives him a look that Steve’s perfectly familiar with by now. Four years of weekly dinners with a man that’s well aware of your feelings for his nephew leads to some knowing looks and light teasing.

“Only reason he’d ever step foot in this town again is for you and you know that,” Wayne says as he opens another beer. He has three every Friday night, but no longer indulges during the week. Ain’t so young anymore, son, and I gotta stay active to keep up with all your chores, he’d told Steve when he asked. Steve thinks the doctor told him to take it easier. “I don’t think he even told the kids.”

“Don’t see why he would. They’re all over. He’s probably seen them on tour.”

Steve tries not to sound bitter. He woke up in his own bed or whatever the saying is. He can’t blame Eddie for doing exactly what he said he would, following his dreams, getting the hell out of Hawkins the moment he could. The kids did the same, but at least they visited.

“Well, they’ve been houndin’ him to come visit you.”

Steve lifts his head. “They what?”

“They just worry ‘bout ya,” Wayne shrugs. “So do I.”

“I went on a date last week! Robin visited two months ago! I see you every Friday!” Steve stands and starts pacing. “I’m gonna go visit Dustin at school in a month. And Will has his freshman exhibition that we’re all trying to meet up at. It’s not like I’m lonely.”

“Son, I think the only person lonelier than you is Eddie,” Wayne gives him that sad smile he gives whenever they talk about Steve’s social life. It’s like he knows it’s pitiful, and he knows Steve knows it’s pitiful, and he’s making sure Steve knows that he knows. “And he’s stubborn as a mule, but he cares too much about ya to let you suffer.”

“Who said anything about suffering?”

“It’s implied by the way the kids talk about you.”

“How’s that?”

“The word hermit has been used a bunch,” Wayne explains. “Now, I’m gonna finish this beer and you’re gonna stop workin’ yourself up over something that’s still days away.”

Steve rushes over to his calendar, holding up the letter, then checking the calendar.

“He’s gonna be here in three days!” Steve yells. “I can’t be ready by then!”

“What the hell do you need to be ready for? It’s just Eddie,” Wayne is smirking again and Steve’s tired of his teasing, but he’s not gonna say anything because it doesn’t do any good to draw more attention to it. “He ain’t expecting a welcome committee. Maybe a balloon or somethin’; You know he likes the show of it all.”

Steve groans.

He does know. Eddie loves dramatics, that’s what makes him such a good performer on stage. That’s what makes him a great DM.

That’s what made Steve fall in love with him.

“I don’t even know where to get balloons,” Steve says, resting his forehead against the wall.

“The new Wal-Mart should have some,” Wayne pats his shoulder. “We watchin’ the game or standing around havin’ a crisis in your kitchen?”

Steve breathes in. He breathes out.

“I’ll have a crisis tomorrow, I guess.”

“That’s my boy!”

++++

The crisis does come the next day, but this time Wayne isn’t there to make it worse or better. He considers calling Robin, but he knows she’ll just tell him to use his good cologne and try not to be weird. He even thinks about calling Dustin, but immediately shuts that down when he remembers that Dustin is the one who called him a hermit to Eddie’s face.

He finds balloons at the store, and adds streamers to the cart on a whim. He’s sure Eddie will love it. Eddie loves that kind of shit.

He also grabs a pie crust and apples because he remembers Eddie saying how much he loves apple pie with vanilla ice cream one time nearly five years ago.

Okay, maybe it’ll be weird that he remembered that.

He goes to put the apples back when Joyce bumps into him as she’s reaching for a bunch of bananas.

“Sorry honey!” She throws her hands out to catch him, even though she’s the one who almost falls. “I wasn’t paying attention. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, how’re you?” Steve gives her a small smile, trying not to show how panicked he is.

“Sweetie, you look stressed. Is something wrong?”

“No! No, just preparing for a guest,” Steve says, unsure if Eddie’s told anyone else in Hawkins he would be visiting and not wanting to ruin any surprises if he intended on doing that.

He doesn’t even know how long Eddie’s staying; He didn’t say in his letter or voicemails. Wayne hasn’t mentioned it either, which means he probably knows exactly how long he’s staying.

“Oh, is Eddie staying with you?” She asks, brows furrowing. “I assumed he was staying with Wayne. I helped him find an apple pie recipe for his visit.”

Steve looks down at the ingredients in the cart, the evidence of what he’s going to make even more obvious now. Joyce’s gaze follows his and she bites back a knowing smile.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” He asks.

“Uh huh,” she says, nodding. “I would make sure to get the green apples. He likes sour more than sweet when there’s ice cream.”

Steve looks over at the green apples and back at the red apples he was planning on buying. Joyce winks at him before she grabs the bananas and starts to walk away.

“Enjoy the visit!”

Steve doesn’t respond.

He grabs six green apples and shoves them in a plastic produce bag.

He’ll make the damn apple pie and Eddie will love it. Steve will pretend the apple pie isn’t filled with the love he can barely contain for the man, and maybe Eddie will enjoy it and leave as if he never came.

Maybe Steve can make it through this visit with dignity.

****

Eddie shows up at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Technically, it’s 3:03, but Steve wasn’t watching the clock or anything. That would be ridiculous.

He looks just like he always did, just like Steve expected. He’s smiling, and playing with the ends of his curls. Steve is never gonna make it through this visit with dignity.

“Stevie!” Eddie rushes in for a hug, and it should be more awkward than it is. Eddie didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with Steve. They really only spoke a handful of times over the last few years, and most of those were forced by Wayne or Dustin. But it’s like he never left, like he’s been hugging Steve every day for years.

Steve soaks it up, falls into it and doesn’t care how it looks. If Eddie has a problem with it, he doesn’t say so. He holds Steve tighter, his breath warm against his neck.

Eventually, Steve invites him inside and it does start to feel awkward.

Eddie’s a rock star now, and despite how normal he looks, he’s different. He’s here to see Steve, but is he here out of guilt that it took him this long to visit or because he actually wants to?

Steve talks about work, and his dinners with Wayne, and spends more time than he should explaining Robin’s degree program even though he knows Robin already talked to Eddie when she got accepted. He goes on and on about what everyone else is up to because his life is pretty boring in comparison and he doesn’t want to bore Eddie away.

“Sounds like everyone’s doing good, but I already knew that,” Eddie eventually says when Steve’s rambled for much longer than he planned. “How are you?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Steve says. “Kinda boring around here, honestly. How’s the tour been?”

Eddie laughs and Steve tries not to let it hurt. He doesn’t think he means it in the way Steve’s taking it and that’s a Steve problem, not an Eddie problem.

“I called you 37 times,” Eddie says instead of answering him. “Every city we had a show. The first few I figured you were just busy or asleep. I didn’t think about time zones. But then I started to realize you were avoiding me.”

He isn’t mad, or at least he doesn’t look mad, but Steve feels like he needs to apologize anyway.

“Yeah, sorry. After a while, it kinda…”

“Seemed worse to call since it was so long?” Eddie asks, small smile falling from his face when Steve nods. “It’s never a bad thing to hear from friends, though. You could’ve called the bus phone anytime. Left a message. We got an answering machine because Gareth’s mom always calls when we’re on stage.”

“Right. Good to know,” Steve says. Which, it is good to know, but he doesn’t plan on calling unless there’s an emergency. He can’t look as desperate as he feels and if he calls once, he’ll call twice, and then a hundred times. “What city was your favorite so far?”

Eddie tilts his head, looks him over for a moment before responding. “I liked Boston. All the kids were front row. Except El, she somehow got backstage. Still not sure how. Missed you, though.”

Steve feels his face heat up at the words. Eddie always said things in a flirty way, even though he doesn’t really mean it that way. Steve can’t let himself think that he means it that way.

“It’s a pretty big trip, so. I couldn’t miss work.”

It’s a shit excuse because he absolutely could miss work. It’s a grocery store in a small town, and he doesn’t care that much about it.

“They couldn’t find someone to cover a couple days for you?” Eddie sounds hurt now, and Steve can’t let him think that he’s the problem.

“I didn’t ask. I-” Steve has to be brave now. Wayne’s voice is in his head telling him to just tell Eddie why he’s been so distant, why he hasn’t been the one to reach out. “I was scared to go.”

This seems to throw Eddie off balance. His eyes squint and forehead wrinkles adorably as he tries to do mental gymnastics to find out why Steve of all people would be scared to visit him. Steve is known for throwing himself in the line of fire, being the first one to step in when everyone else is scared. Too bad this type of courage is different.

“Are you scared of flying? I didn’t know, maybe we could have figured out a hired car.”

“No, I don’t mind flying,” Steve admits.

“Then…why were you scared?”

“Because if I let you in, you’ll see how much I miss you and if you see how much I miss you, you’ll see how much I love you. And then you’d never wanna have me around and it would be just like everyone else I love who leaves because I’m not enough to keep them around,” Steve lays his head back against the couch. The Wayne voice in his head is suspiciously quiet.

So is Eddie.

Steve isn’t going to talk anymore; He’s said enough.

Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s. It’s warm and surprisingly soft, and bigger than Steve’s. He never realized that before, not even when he held his hand while he was in the hospital after Vecna or when he watched him play guitar for hours while he was trying to gain his confidence back.

“People don’t leave because you aren’t enough, Steve. They leave because the world is big and they want to be a part of it. Everyone wants you to do that, too,” Eddie says softly, carefully. “I think most of the kids hoped you’d leave Hawkins once they did. Dustin thought you’d come on tour with me.”

“Why would he think that?” Steve doesn’t remember ever having a conversation with Dustin that would make him think that, but his memory isn’t the best.

Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile and he leans forward.

“You know you’re incredibly obvious, right?” Eddie whispers even though they’re alone and there’s no need to be quiet. “You’ve always been easy to read.”

“What does that mean? Read what?”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s been right there with Eddie written across it since I was in the hospital, sweetheart.” Eddie points to Steve’s arm. He looks down as if he would be able to see the heart Eddie’s talking about. “You’re an open book.”

The timer in the kitchen goes off and Steve jumps up. He rushes to the oven, grateful for the distraction.

“Is that apple pie?” Eddie asks from a few feet away. Steve really should’ve known he would follow him.

“Yes, it’s gotta be perfect.”

“You made apple pie for me?”

Eddie’s right behind him now, and when he turns, there’s no space between them at all. Steve smells the airport on him, the rental car, the cologne he’s worn since Steve bought it for him before he left Hawkins.

He looks up and sees the years that have passed in smile lines on Eddie’s face, in a single gray hair that Eddie’s probably keeping because it makes him look cool. Steve hasn’t found any gray hairs yet, but he’s only 25. Eddie always said Wayne went completely gray by 30, so his genetics wouldn’t be as kind to him. Steve kinda hopes he’s right. Eddie would be beautiful with gray curls.

“Just like I said: heart on your sleeve,” Eddie whispers, leaning in until his lips are just barely brushing against Steve’s.

He’s waiting for Steve, to see if he’ll finally give in after years of near-silence, after whatever flirty and semi-codependent friendship they had before Eddie left to be a rock star.

Steve’s spent enough time waiting, and he thinks Eddie probably has, too.

His lips press against Eddie’s, sure of their movements despite the anxiety crawling through his chest and the unfamiliar taste of him on his tongue.

It’s full of hunger even though it only lasts a few seconds. Steve’s wanted this, wanted him, for so long, he puts everything he has into this moment. If it’s all he gets, he wants it to be perfect.

“You’re kissing me like you’re sending me off to war,” Eddie says when they’ve caught their breath.

“Feels like I am,” Steve admits, corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “At least a little.”

“I think the odds of me dying on stage are probably extremely slim,” Eddie laughs. Steve doesn’t laugh with him. “Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve pulls himself away, ignoring the way his chest aches at the separation. He’ll have to get used to that when Eddie leaves.

“You have a whole new life. You’re a rock star, Ed. I can’t force my feelings on you now.”

“Who said you forced anything on me?”

“I made you apple pie!” Steve exclaims, pulling away so he can breathe again. Having Eddie in his space alters his brain chemistry, maybe his DNA. “I bought all your favorite things so I could try to convince you I’m worth staying for, even though I can’t compare to going on a world tour with your band. I cleaned out the guest room and made sure I put your favorite shampoo in the shower as if you would even notice that. As if it would be enough to keep you around.”

Eddie steps closer, but Steve steps back.

“Your life is different now. It’s good. I wouldn’t add anything to it, and I don’t know why I even tried to make it seem like I would.”

Eddie steps closer, and there’s nowhere for Steve to go. He’s boxed in against the counter, and Eddie’s face is red with anger. He’s not scared– he could never be scared of Eddie– but he does swallow around a lump in his throat and try to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

“My life is different now, you’re right about that. My life doesn’t even feel like mine most days. I belong to fans, and the guys, and the record label. But you know what does feel like mine?” Eddie leans in close enough that his breath is hot against Steve’s face. “How much I love you. How much I have always loved you. You’ve always felt like mine, Steve.”

It’s a hell of a confession, and definitely not what Steve expected from this visit.

The Wayne voice in his head decides to speak again. Except this time, it’s something he’s said to Steve in person before.

He’s surrounded by people, but he seems pretty lonely. Kinda like he still needs a certain someone.

Steve’s brows crinkle as he thinks about the words Wayne said after a phone call with Eddie during the first part of his first tour nearly two years ago. The words were accompanied by a look that Steve has since come to recognize as his sad puppy look.

The same one Eddie’s giving him now.

Steve can’t help it; He laughs.

“You and Wayne could bottle that look and sell it to people who need someone to feel bad for ‘em,” Steve says. He cups Eddie’s cheek in his palm, rubs his thumb against the angry red that turns into a flushed pink. “I don’t know how you could love me-”

“Steve-”

“But!” Steve interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have taken the time to come back here at all, let alone stay with me. I won’t understand it, but I’ll believe it.”

“That was easier than Wayne said it would be,” Eddie’s smile grows slowly, lighting up his face and the room.

“He’s been buttering me up for years,” Steve shrugs.

“Doing all the hard work, more like,” Eddie leans forward, rests his forehead against Steve’s. “He must’ve been sick of hearing me yearn for your love.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, you could have come back sooner. You didn’t have to wait until I was convinced I’d be alone forever.”

“And you could have called me to let me know I could visit sooner.” Eddie pokes the tip of his nose with his finger, smirking as he leans away to look back at the apple pie on the oven. “Especially if I could’ve been having apple pie on every break.”

“It might not even be good,” Steve says as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“Is there vanilla ice cream?” Eddie pecks his lips.

“Mhm,” Steve kisses his cheek. “And you can have some if you promise to sit down and tell me everything about the band.”

“You wanna waste time hearing about Gareth drooling over every woman who looks his way? We could be making love on the couch.”

Steve raises a brow. “We won’t be making love anywhere but my bed. And it won’t be until we’ve talked more.”

“Fiiiine,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but grabs for the pie cutter on the counter. “Cut me a piece of pie and I’ll do my best to resist taking all your clothes off.”

“I never said you couldn’t do that,” Steve grabs the pie cutter.

“So I can take your clothes off?”

“Shirt only. And after pie…we’ll talk.”

“I thought after pie we’d be done talking.”

“How long are you staying?” Steve asks as he puts the slice of pie onto the plate and hands it to Eddie.

“Four days.”

Steve tilts his head side to side, considering what he can accomplish in four days.

In any other situation, he might be worried about how quickly he throws off his shirt. In any other situation, he would probably insist on talking to Robin before throwing his heart on the plate next to the scoop of ice cream Eddie just put next to his steaming slice of pie. In any other situation, he would take things slow and get to know rock star Eddie who left Hawkins to be someone.

But he’s finding that he’s okay with speed-running things.

He’s got a new perspective on Eddie’s visit, and maybe a new perspective on what their future will look like.

Steve drops his pants. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Eat your pie. We’ll talk while we make love on the couch.”

[infiniteglitterfall]

crib sheet for those not in the know:

the subtext of these twitter comments is that any mention of Israel, of places in Israel, or of going to Israel, is "Zionist propaganda"

Therefore, calling a Jewish-Indian household "Jaipur-Aviv" is Bad because it mentions Tel Aviv, a city built entirely from unoccupied desert land purchased by Jews.

this comes from the idea that acting as if Israel exists is immoral (i.e. that tolerating Israel's existence is violent colonialism)

There's no other country on earth that anyone considers it immoral or violent to mention

There isn't a movement against acknowledging or having visited the United States, Canada, England, Russia, Iran, Afghanistan, etc.

Zio is a KKK dogwhistle popularized by David Duke forty years ago. Using it makes it more difficult for others to recognize and avoid white supremacists -- and often means that you're not recognizing and avoiding white supremacists.

I've watched every episode of Friends ten times at a minimum. I am not exaggerating. I feel pretty safe in stating point-blank that nobody at any point even utters the word "Israel" on that show.

Also, Rachel is not Jewish. I am kinda dying to know what the fuck that person thought the "Zionist connotations" in their relationship were.

WAIT A MINUTE STOP THE PRESSES. RACHEL IS JEWISH!??!!!

lmao this is killing me, I used to be so sure she was Jewish and then I googled it and people said she wasn't!

The nose job subplot read as an intentionally Jewish regional reference; Rachel refers to her grandma as her bubbe; the show's creators have said she's Jewish; she had been going to marry Barry Farber, who is "definitely Jewish;" her last name is Green, "a common 'Americanized' Jewish name;" she apparently wears a star of David I've never spotted in episode 3; and also, her name is Rachel.

Okay well, thanks to the borderline Nazis up there for teaching me that Rachel actually IS Jewish! I knew I needed to rewatch the series!

Bonus: they don't say Israel, but they DO say Israeli once.

The Big Bang Theory apparently had an episode called The Jerusalem Duality, in which "Sheldon applies himself to winning the Nobel Peace Prize for solving the Middle East crisis by creating a second wailing wall (also called the 'Western Wall') in the Mexican desert. Dr. Gablehauser and Dennis Kim stop by. Sheldon explains his concept to them; convinced that, like the baseball movie 'build it and they will come', adding that he plans to lure the Jewish people by 'making it nice...we'll put out a spread'."

The only real references Big Bang Theory makes to Israel are, again, in the "acknowledging it exists and being willing to go there" genre:

The Nanny had a lot of topical political jokes. In one episode, Fran Drescher says, "Yasser Arafat? ...He could use a facial, or better yet a chemical peel. We're already giving him the Gaza Strip, would it kill him to take a shave?"

Weirdly, this was 8 years before Israel did unilaterally pull out of the Gaza Strip and destroy all its settlements there.

Regardless, this is more a joke about her character being overly focused on appearances and fashion. Especially given that she simultaneously gets corrected on the fact that Arafat wore a burnous, not a turban.

There's also a 1995 episode in which Maxwell wants to get his teenage daughter "away from boys" by sending her to a convent over the winter holidays. Fran strongly disagrees about the convent, but does think a trip would be good for Maggie, like her own teenage trip to a kibbutz had been. The whole family ends up going to a kibbutz, which I can only imagine the people in that thread would consider to be pure "hasbara."

Seinfeld, though, is by far the best reference they make here. Because this is a quote from the 1992 episode "The Limo":

This is the only "Zionist" reference I can find in Seinfeld. So it's the most likely thing these folks are objecting to as "Zionism" in Seinfeld episodes.

ZOG, or Zionist Occupied Government, is another huge white supremacist term that has made its way into the extreme part of the pro-palestine movement. The founder of Students for Justice in Palestine has also publicly stated that "Congress is an Israeli occupied territory."

Wow. I learned a lot more than I expected to there.

according to the replies on this tweet literally every tv show has Zionist Propaganda™️ so i guess the hamasniks are just going to have to twiddle their thumbs for entertainment

edit: some of the nonsense from the replies

do not call yourself progressive or inclusive or revolutionary or anticolonial or whatever other fucking “I’m A Good Person” label de jour you’ve chosen if you say shit like this. you cannot talk like a Nazi and then insist you’re just an antizionist.

[bridenore]

HD Erised 2024 recs

Here are some of my favorite fics from @hd-erised 2024. Listed in alphabetical order.

All These Winding Threads by @starquestingfordrarry [35k]

The tides of Draco’s accidental magic pull him under and leave him gasping. There’s a hungry ache that sits deep in his bones, growing worse every day. Soon it’s all he’ll be, a starving skeleton clawing at its throat. He needs a solution. Unfortunately, that solution looks an awful lot like Harry Potter.

As Luck Would Have It by @sleepstxtic [12k]

In Sixth-Year, Harry and Draco both win a vial of Felix Felicis from Slughorn and, under its influence, have sex in the Room of Requirement. In the aftermath, can Draco and Harry navigate their respective roles in the war, while grappling with their burgeoning feelings for each other?

Body and Soul by Justlikewriting [22k]

When the headaches became worse and it got more and more difficult for Draco to work, he was left with no other choice but to recognise his stupid problem exactly for what it was. Even if that meant realising that the best, or perhaps even only, solution could solely come from one person: the one person he hadn’t seen for months, the one person he was still in love with. The one person who should never know. Because, clearly, Harry would never be able to give Draco what he needed anyway.

A Dragon to Call Mine by @fantalfart [24k]

Well, Harry is tired. Somewhat. He’s been The Boy Who Lived for quite a few years now—or what Harry privately likes to call himself; The Boy Whose Life Is Continuously Messed Up By External Forces or The Boy Who Can’t Take a Break or The Boy Who Gets to Keep Living Indefinitely or The Boy Who Is So Done or even The Boy Who Is, Apparently, Never Taking Time Off—and it never really gets better. Easier, yes; boring even, but never better. So, when he was about to finish his speech that morning, when a rogue dark spell was aimed at him and that dragon showed up, white scales blanketed by the sun, Harry almost grinned. Because seeing the creature felt more like finally than it did danger. — Or, Harry finds out that living with a dramatic, opinionated dragon might be everything he’s ever wished for.

Equally Cursed and Blessed by @moonflower-rose [18k]

Harry's back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he's sure there'll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there'll be a few.

In a Year’s Turning by @hoko-onchi-writes [89k]

There’s an undeniable crackle in the air. Draco knows it down to his marrow. Can never unknow it. He doesn’t have to turn to know that Harry is standing at the library entrance. The hair on the back of Draco’s neck prickles. They’ve avoided one another for nine years. Managed not to run into one another during the week of Andy’s funerary rites. They’ve glimpsed one another several times. But they never came close enough to speak. Draco’s kept to their rules for most of a decade. Letters only. Plans for Teddy. Updates on Pansy’s gardens. No references to the Christmas of 2001. Draco spares a moment to grieve that he couldn’t have put this off another nine years. Then, he turns. “Hi,” Harry says. Draco’s throat aches. “Hello. It’s been a while.” Harry quirks a smile. "I wondered where that top went." -- Or: Harry is struggling to raise Teddy by himself. Enter Draco.

Just a little liquid luck by @smehur [5k]

Draco unbuttons his cuffs and the first three buttons at the neck and pulls both his shirt and his vest up over his head. “Oh,” comes a shuddery sigh from the other side of the bed. “No, leave it,” Potter hurries to say when Draco moves to smooth his hair back into place. “It’s just. It’s. Good. Like that.” Draco smirks, though he dares not look down at himself and the expanse of the flush burning hot stamps into his flesh. Tracking the movement of Potter’s eyes, he runs a greasy finger over the thickest of his scars. “You like them, don’t you? Pervert.” Potter tosses his head back, jostling the mass of his curly fringe from his forehead. “I bet you were into scars long before you had any of your own, Malfoy.” Yes, Draco wants to say. I want to lick yours. What he says instead is, “Fuck you.” “Fuck you,” Potter echoes, putting the same pregnant emphasis on the F. Draco bites his lower lip, wrestling down the rise of euphoria. “Your turn,” he says. “Take that off.”

The Most Splendid Thing by @lqtraintracks [61k]

Star Quidditch rivals Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter become accidentally bonded. They still hate each other, but now it’s untenable to leave each other’s sides—and my, but it feels oh so good to touch. They’re either going to murder one another, or fall in love. OR: A story in which Draco finally allows himself happiness, and Harry finally learns that he deserves to be whole.

Old love don't rust by tray_la_la [20k]

“Why do you keep coming?” Malfoy asked at last. Harry mulled over the question. For a moment he debated trying to turn the tables and asking Malfoy the very same thing. But this time he didn’t want to hold back. “Because I can’t stop,” Harry said.

The Pain From an Old Wound by @citrusses [30k]

Getting hit with a mysterious blood curse is all in a day’s work for Harry Potter. Having to work with his former colleague, rival, bully, and boyfriend, is not. Harry’s not sure which is going to do him in first: the curse sucking his magic dry, or Draco Malfoy, as frustrating, condescending, and painfully attractive as he’s always been.

palindrome by @garagepaperback [25k]

“Why did you let me kiss you?” Potter smirks. “That’s not how I remember it. Why did you let me kiss you?” “I’m stuck in a time loop. You’re not going to remember, so.” Draco’s tongue drags, calcified around the words. “Why not.” Potter’s brows furrow but the smile stays undented. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

Runaway Train by iota / @sorrybutblog [18k]

Harry was already keen to figure out what’s been causing a series of disturbances in the London Underground before Draco Malfoy showed up acting suspicious. Two explosions, several very confused Muggles, and a cloud of mysterious sticky powder later, Harry and Malfoy can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. Can Harry shag his way to the answer to all of his questions? Seems unlikely, but what can a man do but try?

A Soft Place to Fall by @amomorii [142k]

When Harry arrives for his first year teaching at Hogwarts and is struck with a bizarre malignance, how on earth is he supposed to react when Draco Malfoy suddenly cares? Or; A darkness crawls out of Harry, and there's only so long he can keep it to himself.

Storm's Eye by @shiftylinguini [12k]

Harry's surprised that Draco didn't have wards up preventing mortally wounded former school mates-turned-ghosted work fellows from bursting into his house. In Harry's addled mind, this seems like a great opening line to say to Draco's gobsmacked face. He doesn't get that far, though. Or: Harry gets hurt, Draco is a vanishing alchemist who may or may not be able to save the day, but under no circumstances are either of them willing to talk about Their Feelings. Well. Maybe "mortal peril" circumstances will do it, actually.

Sub rosa by @tessacrowley [37k]

After the tragic and unexpected death of his mother, Draco Malfoy’s quiet life as Potions Master, Hogwarts professor, and Head of Slytherin gets upended—first by the manifestation of mysterious and inexplicable magic, and then by the revelation of an inheritance deliberately hidden from him his entire life.

Where Starlight Falls by @agentmoppet [33k]

The magic concealing Sirius’s Last Will and Testament doesn’t reveal the full extent of Harry’s inheritance until two years after the war. When it does, it turns out that Harry has inherited more than just the Black Family vault—he’s inherited the family’s magic, too. He just has to find it first. And he needs Draco Malfoy’s help to do it.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

How the Straw Hats Love (As Told By Tarot) Pt I

cw. gn!reader, headcanons, tarot pairing. luffy x reader, zoro x reader, sanji x reader, usopp x reader notes. i've been meaning to this for the straw hats but considering the... amount of crewmates there are lol, i thought why not start with 4 of the bois. next i definitely want to do robin, nami, franky and... hmm maybe jinbei? but to start, our east blue boys! deck. prisma vision tarot, true black tarot

monkey d. luffy

seven of swords, ten of chalices, page of chalices

he isn't just your partner, luffy is your best friend. he knows loneliness and loss too well for comfort and he doesn't want you to ever feel the same way. in a lot of ways, it feels like luffy knows you better than yourself. you never have to question how luffy feels, he's honest and wears his heart on his sleeves. he loves you and he shows it freely through his actions. he doesn't lie to himself and he doesn't want you lying to yourself whether it be how you feel about him or any other aspect of your life. so much love flows from monkey d. luffy and his person for any and everyone, but you're someone special above the rest. you're a treasure among treasures. you're someone who makes him happy and he strives to make you happy. your dreams are just as important to him as his own. what makes you happy might not make always align with his own but he's sure to approach those things with with enthusiasm.

roronoa zoro

three of wands, the emperor, two of wands, six of cups

zoro's dream is to become the world's strongest swordsman. there's not really much else he took into account otherwise as far as what may happen on the path there. he couldn't have predicted luffy, the crew and her certainly never predicted you. in spite of that, zoro hones in on you much like a traveler following a guiding light. his goals allow for much leeway on the path there, there's nothing holding back his devotion and loyalty to you. your relationship is a promise and nothing this man does makes you doubt this promise. there's a tenderness in how he touches you and approaches you but he doesn't doubt your own strength. he trusts in it as much as you trust in his. zoro's is a love that feels like it approaches a part of your lost youth. the things neither of you might have had the chance the done when you were younger but can now indulge in fully by each other's side. enjoy the ride.

black leg sanji

the lovers, seven of pentacles, the fool, the anant

much to no one's surprise, the man's a hopeless romantic. sanji heartily believes in soulmates and fated persons and can only hope he's someone lucky enough to have one of his own. despite being a flirt, sanji isn't one who loves casually. when sanji has his person, he's as loyal and dedicated as they come; investing as much you give him. any love you give him, he appreciates a hundred times fold. if given another chance at life, he truly means it when he says there isn't a thing in his life he'd change if he knows that is the path that will lead him right back to you. there's a darkness to sanji, however. one that doesn't allow him to truly see the value of his person. he stumbles much like a blindfolded child in his yearning in spite of this. he wants so much to make you happy that he needs to be reminded in the importance of his own happiness as well.

god usopp

page of chalices, the tower, judgement, three of wands

usopp's no stranger to unexpected and, at time's disastrous situations. being part of a crew such as his own, he's learned to be prepared for it. there's no rainbow without the rain and if you have no umbrella, usopp is right there to craft one with his ingenuity and the resources at hand. the days of his pessimism and cowardice aren't entirely gone, but when it comes to someone having your back you can count on usopp completely and so too can you trust his affections for you. he might not be the strongest person and he's not the bravest, but his love for you is only ten times stronger. he encourages your creativity and he's tactful when gauging your wellbeing. usopp's desire for strength only stems from his desire to protect those he holds most dear. a brave warrior of the sea won't strive for anything less. out of all the things he imagines for his future, your image is the clearest.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Sorry for the long hiatus. My meds for my bipolar disorder have made it very difficult to have inspiration/motivation for anything aside from normie activities.

Anyways I have a lot planned for this year! Hopefully you guys enjoy these works that have been in the backburner for a while while now. Love yall.

Without further ado, here’s a little drabble/some hcs as appetizers.

YANDERE BATFAM x HAREM! READER

tw/cw: DID coded shenanigans. Multiple Readers converge from my other works. Confusing fuckery. Yun writing without his meds. Featuring @sophiethewitch1 ‘s loser reader from What We Want. Mad Genius! Reader.

inspired by: The Herta (Honkai Star Rail) and a lil Iron Man.

Okay it but wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if Reader gave the boys a harem of their own.

Like perhaps they’re just this immortal genius that creates puppets. Each with its unique personality and looks. But all of them share one thing, a love for their creator and the batfam. (And are all under your control…mostly)

Let’s start with your failures shall we? After all, the most precious thing to a genius like you, is your mistakes. However few or many there are.

You created Cat Villain! Reader as a test. No flashy powers beyond invisibility and teleportation. What you did give them however, was a whole load of sass and mystique. Something that drew in the Robins pretty well at first, but they soon lose interest in favor of … well

another work of yours was Alien! Reader. The goody two shoes with a dark side. (You couldn’t make them perfectly straight and narrow, that would have been far too boring). But Alien! Reader started dating Damian way too quickly. And everyone seemed so happy with the arrangement that you quickly ended it all. Swiftly killing your puppet in a fit of boredom. (Don’t worry, you kept some spare parts in order to rebuild them later on if such a whim caught your fancy)

Now, What We Want! Reader was special. It took a lot of time, effort, and whole butt load of money. Crossing dimensions was a lot more difficult than you thought it would be. But of course, in the end, your perfect self managed to pull through.

Replacing the original What We Want! Reader with a puppet that housed a soul from another world? Genius. Absolutely brilliant. You should reward yourself with how smart you are.

Unfortunately the boys got too excited and locked her up. Almost removing your access to one of your favorite experiments! How could they?

And so you send her back home. Safe and sound (and ready for part two!)

While looking through other dimensions, a certain manga/anime caught your eye. Makima! Reader was inspired from the character herself. And Bruce’s lack of participation and eagerness in some of your previous tests. And so you made his utter nightmare. One who killed when it was necessary and kill you did.

Unfortunately Makima! Reader almost made [Favorite DC Villain] pass away and you wouldn’t want that happening, don’t you?

In getting What We Want! Reader to your dimension you failed to account one of your stupid puppets getting into the collider by accident. And thus was What’s Up Danger? Reader was born.

You let it roam free for the most part, but for some reason time seemed to loop around them meeting the batboys for the first time and would never go beyond it. (Probably cause the author hasn’t updated in a dozen amber eras at this point)

Exasperated and in dire need of some fun in your life. You bring back all the readers one last time.

And oh, the chaos that ensued was one for the ages.

Finally, a success.

©️ h.n.s. - yun | 2025

[juney-blues]

idk it's like, one thing if you conceptualize of yourself, personally, as a girl who used to be a boy, or a boy who used to be a girl. that is your prerogative.

but i just get a weird vibe from anyone who says it like it's this huge thing that we need to be okay with on like, a societal level.

i think you'll find that "trans women used to be men" is not an unpopular position in wider mainstream society. (or atleast, the parts of it that are polite enough to view us as women in the first place)

there are reasons that transfeminists push back on that framing! sure i guess if you choose to think of yourself as an x who used to be y, it might be slightly irritating for another well meaning queer person to say "oh but you were always an x even if you didn't know it." but i don't think you need to call for a social movement to make it acceptable to think of trans women as men about it.

idk maybe that's just me being antsy after hearing all those "male socialization" arguments from terfs. maybe i'm jumping at shadows here

[fanatic564]

Abandon Weakness (Am I a Weakness?) (DPxDC) Chapter 1

Learning Weakness 1 2 AO3 Link Here

Summary

Danny can't help but feel as if he's been in this position before. A bag hastily thrown into his arms. Someone leading him away from a threat. The sweet, acidic taste of Lazarus water ectoplasm at the back of his throat. It's all so familiar it's almost nostalgic.

A Prequel to Learning Weakness, showing Danny escaping Amity Park and making his way to Gotham. Notes:

I promise I'm working on the next chapter of Learning Weakness. But I've had this outlined since chapter one, so I knew how Danny made it to Gotham. I got inspired to actually write it out. (I might be procrastinating, its fiiiiine).

"What do you think Father is like?"

The question broke the comfortable silence that surrounded the two small boys laying next to each other on the bed.

"Strong."

"That's it?"

"What else could he be? There's a reason Mother and Grandfather chose him to bear the heir of the family name."

"Hm."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well. It's just… you are everything that Mother and Grandfather are. Strong. Skilled. Unstoppable. But what about me? I'm nothing like any of you. I'm weaker and I can't bring myself to be as ruthless as you all. So surely I must take after Father?"

Another beat of silence, before one of the boys shuffled closer, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around the other.

"If that is true, then Father must be kind. He must be compassionate, and too good for the League. Because that is what you are, Ahki. And I swear, I will do everything in my power to make sure you can stay that way. So that when we meet him, he will know in an instant that you are his son."

"I love you, Dami."

"I love you too, Danyal."

~ ~ ~

Danny can't help but feel as if he's been in this position before. A bag hastily thrown into his arms. Someone leading him away from a threat. The sweet, acidic taste of Lazarus water ectoplasm at the back of his throat. It's all so familiar it's almost nostalgic.

"Come on, Danny. Now is not the time to be spacing out." Danny shakes his head. Sam is right. He can think about the past when he's not actively being hunted.

"Yeah man. We're almost there." Come now Habibi, the first safehouse is just up ahead.

Danny pushes the thought aside. He runs faster, using his ghost abilities to drag Sam and Tucker down the street and through the wall of a building.

Said building is an old abandoned house at the edge of Amity Park. The place is boarded up with no visible entrance for a normal person, but that can't stop someone who can phase through walls like they aren't there. Inside, most of the furniture is covered with dust and grime. All except for the dining room table, which has been cleared by the teens for their own use.

On top of the table, there is a lidded box next to a pile of papers. Danny pulls his bag up onto the table next to them.

"You sure you'll be okay, dude? I can still get you set up somewhere. Make you a bank account and a fake ID and everything. I only need a little bit of time-"

"If you couldn't tell, we're out of time already. He can't wait any longer"

"You guys have done a lot for me. I can't thank you enough. But, you can't get any more involved in this. The Guys in White already have you on their radar and once Mom and Dad get them to join the search, plausible deniability is your best shot at safety."

His friends look at each other before turning back at him. "If you're really sure."

"I am. You guys should go. Your houses will likely be one of the first places they look and you need to be there when they do."

The three teens stand there for a moment staring at each other. The moment ends when Sam flings her arms around Danny to cling to him.

"I'm gonna miss you. You better contact us as soon as you find a place to settle down. You hear me Daniel Fenton‽"

Danny laughs lightly in response before looking over to Tucker. "What, not gonna join the goodbye hug? You wound me Tuck."

Tucker rolls his eyes before moving to join the hug. Once he is within reach, Danny wraps his own arms around both of them. His core hums as he holds two of the people closest to him. Eventually though, he has to let them go. They say their final goodbyes before Danny turns them intangible and herds them out of the building.

And then he is alone.

Alone to finally think about everything that has happened. And just how similar it is to what happened to him before, all those years ago.

Family members wanting him dead. A sibling being left behind (and Danny feels a pang in his chest at that. At least with Jazz, he has a way to contact her again, when all is said and done.) Danny escaping with the help of someone he loves. Not knowing what is in store for him past this point. Danny running from a throne he doesn't think he is qualified to take.

~ ~ ~

Before Danny lived at Amity Park, before he was killed by the portal, before he became a ghost fighting vigilante, Danyal Al Ghul had been killed by his own brother. Well, before even that he had been a part of a cult of literal assassins. One of the heirs to said cult, in fact, the son of Talia Al Ghul and a man named Bruce Wayne. But, since a cult of assassins didn't need more than one heir, Danyal's grandfather had ordered a duel between the twin. And thus, Danyal's death.

Of course, as seemed to be a recurring theme in his life, Danny did not stay dead.

Instead, with the sound of clocks in his ears and the burning taste of the pit he was thrown into in his mouth, Danny awoke from his death.

(Clockwork would later explain his role in the event to him. How it hadn't been his time yet, and so he influenced Mother into putting Danny in the pits. How he watched the ensuing journey to assure he made it to his destination in one piece as opposed to alive, where the beginning of his journey was death, and the end result would always be death even if years down the line . )

He made it to Amity Park, and was eventually found and adopted by the Fenton Family. It was like comparing night and day, comparing life with the Fentons to life with the League of Assassins. While the league was strict, with rules being strictly enforced and discipline served ruthlessly, the Fentons had a more… hands-off approach. Hands-off meaning barely there, always in the basement working on their 'research'. At first, Danny had been ecstatic for the distance. Less rules barely any, no discipline having to fend for himself , no having to learn how to murder and hurt and….it had been everything Danny had wanted.

Of course Danny missed his brother, and Mother, and even Grandfather on occasion. But Danny could never return, never see them again, in order to keep all of them safe. And so he enjoyed the freedom that living with the Fentons provided.

With that freedom, Danny did research. He learned more about his father, how he was a billionaire living in the city of Gotham who had a habit of adoption that was frankly concerning. He learned that Gotham itself had to be chock full of ectoplasm, with how full of crime and fear the city was. The city had heroes and vigilantes and crime lords and-

And his brother.

Those next few years were a blur. Danny gained close friends in the form of Sam and Tucker. Danny slowly learned to push aside his assassin past and live a normal life. Then he died again. And then he became a vigilante. And then he gained another sister in the form of Ellie. And then he defeated Pariah Dark. And the Jazz went to college left him alone with them.

And then his parents discovered it all.

(Well, maybe not all of it, but enough to know he was no longer safe in Amity Park.)

~ ~ ~

Danny and his friends had a plan for if his parents ever discovered that he was Phantom and they didn't react well. They put together a to-go box for him to grab before fleeing, with an ecto-infused burner phone, some snacks and water bottles, a decent supply of ecto shots, spare clothes, and a few other miscellaneous items. The last part of their plan was supposed to be finding a place for him to flee to. But, they thought they had more time, didn't think this would happen so soon. And so all Danny has to go off of is the pile of papers next to his box, with lists of pros and cons for several different locations that he can go to.

His friends don't know this, but Danny has long since made his decision on where to go. He can't go to where Jazz is going to college, there isn't enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. In fact, most places they discussed didn't. However, there is one option, all the way at the bottom of the pile, that Danny knows will be perfect. To Sam and Tucker, it is a last resort spot, somewhere to go if there is absolutely no other option. Despite the abundance of apparent ectoplasm in the air, the risks are not worth it in their eyes. The ectoplasm seems like the only pro in a sea of cons for them. But for Danny? There is a second pro that outweighs every con tenfold.

Danny can finally reunite with his brother. With Dami. End Notes: Feel free to point out any mistakes.

[4doras]

DOCTOR! DOCTOR! ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

how could a star player who never makes a mistake keep getting hurt? ⊹♡

basketballer!gunwook x studentnurse!reader

genre. fluff, mentions of getting hurt

wc. 1.4k

a/n. doctor doctor is stuck in my head and i’ve been wanting to make a gunwook fic, so it’s perfect timing ^_^

everyone knew park gunwook — gunwook, the star player of the school’s basketball team, gunwook, the guy who never missed a shot, gunwook, who wouldn’t miss a game for the world. he loved basketball, and everyone loved him, everyone except you.

you didn’t hate him per se, but you wouldn’t seem to find the hype around him. of course, you could agree if people spoke about his looks, but his personality? he wasn’t anything special.

more under the cut!

gunwook was flawless on the court with his precision and skill. no one could ever remember a time when he made a mistake, but lately, something odd had started. ever since you became the nurse at the clinic, gunwook had been getting injured more than usual. it was as if every time he played, he’d somehow end up with a bruise or a twisted ankle, always finding his way to you to get treated.

you couldn’t understand why he; who was so perfect, kept making these mistakes on the court. due to your slight dislike of him, you tried to keep your distance, but with each injury, you ended up seeing him more. and though you didn’t want to admit it, a small part of you wondered if it was more than just bad luck.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

“y/n?” a voice echoed through your silent office, “could you bring your kit and come to the court? gunwook got hit in the head.” you recognised the boy as one of gunwook’s friends, another basketball player. “alright, i’ll be right there.” you kept your composure light and smiley, but you couldn’t think of a way how gunwook, someone who was also known to have good agility, could’ve been hit in the head hard enough to need someone to care for him.

you weren’t in any rush to go over, not like the other players were, but when you noticed him rubbing his head, you figured that you might as well check, turning your slow walk into a paced jog.

as you made your way over, you noticed his friends were acting a bit… strange. they weren’t laughing or making jokes, but there was a weird energy between them — glances exchanged, suppressed smiles, like they were all in on something. gunwook wasn’t in much pain, just a bit shaken, but his friends were acting like everything was perfectly normal, almost too normal, considering the situation. you couldn’t put your finger on it, but the way they behaved around gunwook left you feeling a little suspicious. they weren't concerned, not in the way you'd expect after an impact like that, making you wonder if they were up to something.

you crouched by him, holding him up so he’d sit up properly, had he been laying down flat before. “does it hurt here?” you gently put pressure on his forehead, unsure of where he got hit. “a little,” his voice carried a hint of discomfort, “it’s kinda like… here.” he took your hand off of his forehead, bringing it to the side of his head. “tell me when it hurts.” you gradually applied more and more pressure on the area, promptly hearing a wince. “i think you’ll be okay, just be careful. follow me, i’ll get you some ice.” you got back up, extending your hand toward him, offering him help to get back on his feet.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

he sat in front of you, waiting for whatever help you could give. once you looked at gunwook closer, you noticed a few scratches on his hands and a small cut on his forehead. it wasn’t serious, but you still reached for some ointment and a plaster to tend to the wounds. carefully applying it to his forehead, you found herself realizing gunwook looked a lot cuter up close than you ever really paid attention to before. his features were soft, and even with the small scrapes, there was something about him that made him seem a bit more attractive than she’d expected. you quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on helping him rather than letting her mind wander.

you couldn’t be thinking like this — about gunwook, or anything else that made your heart flutter a little, but it was hard. it didn’t make sense. you knew he wouldn’t like you back, and that was fine. you didn't think less of yourself, but the truth was clear: there were so many other girls that were prettier and ‘more his type’ who thought of him the same way too. you had no reason to dwell on these feelings, especially when it wouldn’t lead anywhere. you couldn’t let herself get caught up in something pointless.

“focus, y/n. don’t daydream, your patient is hurt!” he whined, playing a small pout on his lips. “i’m not… i’m just a bit tired.” you hoped your lie was strategic enough, but acting wasn’t your major. he could see straight through you. “hm,” he cooed, “tired of what?” gunwook tilted his head to the side in mild confusion, the corner of his lips curled up into a playful smile as he looked at you. it was almost as if he knew that you weren’t telling the truth and was waiting for you to explain. “tired of you always coming here. i thought you were the best player, how come you keep ending up hurt?”

gunwook couldn’t help but giggle, seeing how clueless you were. you had no idea how obvious his feelings were. it was like a secret game to him, watching you so unaware of how much he liked you, despite him constantly creating a reason to find you.

gunwook knew exactly what he was doing when he’d fake an injury during basketball practice. it wasn’t that he actually got hurt, but he’d always manage to ‘slip’ or ‘twist’ something just enough to need attention. but the real reason? he loved having your attention on him. he’d sit there, trying to hide his grin, pretending to be in pain just to have you close. it wasn’t that he wanted to get hurt, but the way you cared for him made his heart race, and the excuse to see you — even for just a moment — was worth it every time.

“you’re seriously blind, huh?” he folded his arms, an irritating smirk on his lips. “i like you, silly. i’ve only been getting hurt because i wanna see you, and it wasn’t even that big of an issue… to me, at least.” gunwook couldn’t help but smile, his eyes lit up with a quiet confidence, as if the words he just said were exactly what he’d been waiting to say for a long time.

“what?” you couldn’t find the right words. you wanted to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn’t come out. every time you opened your mouth, it felt like they got stuck somewhere in your throat, tangled. the more he came to your office, it became more obvious to you that you liked him. you knew that much — maybe more than you even realized; but trying to put it into words felt impossible. it wasn’t that you were unsure of your feelings, it was just that every time you looked at him, all you could think about was how much you wanted him to know, but not knowing how to say it.

“i’m not joking, y/n. why do you think i’d keep coming here for something so small, like a cut? i could take care of that at home. i come here because i like you, because i want to see you.” gunwook looked at you, his eyes held an honesty that was impossible to miss, as if everything he was feeling was laid bare in that quiet, unwavering gaze.

“please, give me a chance, y/n.” you couldn’t say no to him, his eyes were basically kneeling in front of you, pleading for you to say yes. “you’re so desperate, it really doesn’t fit your look.” you giggled. you couldn’t believe the park gunwook was on his knees for you. “is that a no?” he said, in a much, much sadder voice. “i didn’t say it was.” you couldn’t help but laugh at his face. “i like you too, gunwook. but you better stop getting hurt for me.” you crossed your arms, pretending to look annoyed, but the playful smirk tugging at your lips betrayed you.

“i promise i’ll stop,” he put his pinky out, “and i’ll win every game for you.” his smile grew bigger. you locked your pinky with his, and pressed your thumbs together. “you better.”

[ttheggrimrreaper]

Haii I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do a NSFW with gagamaru needing you so bad he sneaks into your window in the middle of the night (he's all out of breath and sweating lol) and fem!reader is really sweet about it please and thank you!!

Thank you so much!!!! Sure I can!

Masterlist

Needy

Gagamaru x Fem!reader

MDNI

NSFW under the cut

Think of it like this: In a Au where instead of Blue lock happening while our characters are minors, they are aged up and adults. But the same things happen, just with them as adults. You can assume this is the case with all NSFW works I make.

Gagamaru wasn't a needy person. He didn't stress about his partner talking to other men, most of the time. But after spending so long at Blue lock.. with nothing but his fist and other sweaty men. Gagamaru didn't waste a second before breaking in and getting what he waited so long for.

Warnings: Missionary, Breaking and entering (not so much breaking), no protection, P in V, mentions of fingering.

You yawned as re watched the game, well more so a reel someone put together of Gagamaru being goalie. Not a lot, only 10 minutes worth of footage that was eye catching enough, but it was enough to please you. You were so proud of him, sure it wasn't exactly what he wanted to be, but he looked happy to be in a game, to be in the starting line up.

Turning off the TV, wrapping yourself in your blanket as you passed by a taxidermy fowl. A gift Gagamaru had given to your guardian.. and when you suggested getting rid of it because it was creepy and Gagamaru had given them yet another one. They promptly yelled at you, it was the first gift Gagamaru gave to them and they were never gonna just give it away! Your lovely guardian now rested in the other half of the house... too old to be able to take care of themselves. You chuckled as you patted the birds head, going to your room to get a good night's rest, maybe, If you're lucky, Blue lock will let your mountain boy have his phone.

Gagamaru had waited long enough, stuck fucking his fist in the shower and little chance he can get. Searching for some kind of satisfaction. But once his release came, it did little to please his urges. He wanted you, needed you. He couldn't even call you for the entirety of being away at blue lock. He couldn't even see you in the crowd, however he did get to see your face when they watched the replay and the camera man panned to your cheering face as you clung onto your guardian, hand thrown up in the air waving and screaming his name. Unfortunately however, the domestic moment that should have brought blood to his cheeks, went down to his pants.

You were dreaming, your mouth parted as your face was plush against the pillow. The soft flowers that your hands trailed over... White and black with bold yellow middles.

"y/n...." Your name called in the winds, followed by a huff, and a crash which dragged you out of your dream. "Y/n" the voice said again, you sat up... Looked around at the very end of your bed two eyes seemingly glowing.

"OH MY G-"you screamed, launching your pillow at your intruder. He leaped forward and a hand crashed over your mouth. You closed your eyes and squirmed, kicking and hitting his chest as hard as you could.

"hey, don't scream come on-" he huffed out, you paused recognizing the voice, slowly cracking an eye open to meet with Gagamaru, his face red and usually wide eyes full of.. usually nothing was currently hazed over with lust. No doubt your struggling and squirming again his lower half didn't help him in the slightest.

"Maru??.. Gagamaru!!" You leaped on him, the fear from before forgotten as you pressed kisses all over his face. He panted slightly, his arms wrapping around you.

"hey pretty girl" he hummed, catching your lips in a kiss. It was hungry, chasing after you and trying to hold himself back from overpowering you with what little restraint he had left. Pulling away and digging his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against it. "Need you" his voice was muffled, occupied with pressing kisses along your neck and collar bone.

As much as you would have liked a domestic greeting.... You had to admit you missed him just as much. His touch, his tongue, the way he would perfectly roll into you. after experiencing his fingers curling and touching all the right places, your smaller ones did little to please you. So many nights spent with your hand between your legs, playing with your pussy only to find that it did nothing to what you craved.

"need you too." You mumbled against his hair. That was all the confirmation he needed, pushing himself up as you straddled his lap, lips clashing together as your hands gently twisted his hair, his grip on your hips bruising. Slowly, his hands etched your shirt off, only parting for a quick minute to pull the fabric over your head. You leaned back, pulling his down with you, his hands carefully gliding over your nipples, teasing them with the pads of his thumbs.

You whimpered under his touch, tugging his hair softly as you had to pull your head back, panting. Gagamaru found a new home for his lips, back on your neck as he left little love bites and kisses. His hands slide down to your hips, fumbling to untie the draw string that kept them on. Pulling them down along with your panties before one hand returning to cup your cheek as the other rubbed soft and slow circles on your clit. Pawing at his shirt collar, he obliged and pulled it off himself, your hands still in his hair as he pulled away. The cold air reaches your core as you shiver, hearing the familiar sound of his belt hitting the floor.

"I love you so much" He rasped out, hands returning to your hips as he lined up.

"Maru no no 'ts to b-!" He caught your scream of pain that slowly plead into pleasure with his lips, swallowing it up as he bottomed out. He was just too damned big and after so long without him, it felt like the first time all over again. Experimentally, he rolled his hips forward, cock dragging perfectly against your walls. You whimpered lifting your hips up as you whined for more. Nails digging into your shoulders.

He started off slowly, gently as he would pull his hips back ever so slightly, and then push himself back on. The lewd sounds filling your ears along with his groans. But with each thrust, and each beg for more you let out, he sped up. Hips slamming against you, he pulled away as he sat up, tucking his arms under your waist as he lifted your hips ever so slightly, but even the slightest difference in elevation allowed him to sink into you deeper.

You moaned his name countless times, begging for more as your hands clawed at the bed sheets. He was too big, in both length and size, on any part of his body. You couldn't reach his shoulders or hair so you had to settle with the sheets. His eyes were shut, face contorted in pleasure. Usually, for Gagamaru to truly feel satisfied, to truly be able to orgasm, he required some crazy position. Full nelson, waterfall, sometimes you would be hung up in the air. But as of right now, he had no attempt to no move you into that. All he simply wanted, was one. One simple, one long awaited, one well deserved, orgasm.

Your heels dug into the small of his back, pulling him impossibly closer. The room full of your moans and the lewd sounds coming from where you two would meet. However, one specific drag in particular had you screaming. The head of his cock harshly dragged against your G-spot causing you to squirm and move your hips around, leading you to further more reach your high.

Your squirming, had ended up working wonders for Gagamaru, a loud groan coming from him as he came, and with one final thrust he bottomed out and allowed himself to bend back down to kiss you, with no intention of pulling out. You whined, shifting around slightly but his hands came to catch your hips and hold you still. "No no don't move.. don't move" he mumbled, the exhaustion from the game, and this long awaited reunion finally catching up to him.

"w-welcome back Maru" you hummed, pressing a kiss to his hair as you panted. Gagamaru nodded softly, head nuzzled in the crook of your neck once more. He finally, was Abel to return home, To you, which to Gagamaru... Wherever you were was home.

[kykyonthemoon]

7 Days the mini-series

About this series: ✈️

Day 06: My Defender

Immediately after receiving the message, I hurried to the headmaster's office. There, I found Caleb waiting on one of the seats outside. His white uniform was covered in mud, he had bruises all over his body, one side of his face was slightly swollen, and there was a bleeding wound at the corner of his mouth.

"Caleb? What happened to you?"

I sat down beside him and held his hand timidly out of fear of hurting him. Caleb didn't look at me and turned his face away.

"Caleb?" I pulled his hand, still he refused to look at me. So I wrapped him in my arms. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Caleb sat still and let me hold him for a while longer. Even though he didn’t respond, I could guess what had happened on the way here. I overheard the other students gossiping that there had been a fight between Caleb and another fifth grader, I just didn’t know why.

After a while, Caleb seemed to calm down, he took my hand off and started talking:

“I’m fine. Gran is talking to the headmaster inside.”

“Why didn’t you go to the nurse’s office?”

“I’m all right.”

He responded, even waved his arms and legs to let me know that, unlike the other children who were crying and running into the nurse's office, he was still fine. But I just frowned at him.

“What happened?” I asked. Caleb had never caused trouble at school. He had always been a good student, a well-liked boy by both teachers and his peers. His energy was all for sports and extracurricular activities. I never imagined seeing him in a situation like this.

Caleb didn’t want to tell me, but after some pleading, he finally spoke: 

“They were talking bad about you.”

“Huh?” I was stunned. Caleb simply explained that not everyone in school liked me. They made up stories and said negative things about me out of envy. Those words reached Caleb and turned him enraged. As a result, he gave them all a short trip to the nurse's office.

After hearing this, I gently gripped his hand. The sight of him using Evol to hang a few kids on a tree must have been hilarious. I was very grateful that he was so protective of me. However, I wasn't planning to be the cause of his troubles.

“I don’t care what they think of me,” I said. “Because they’re not important to me. I only care what Caleb thinks of me…”

“You are the most wonderful person in my eyes!” Caleb replied without a thought. “If anyone dares to say anything bad about you, I’ll put them up the tree again—Ouch…”

Caleb grimaced and gently massaged the wound on his face. I pulled his hand away, saying, “When I fall or get hurt, you always blow on my wound, right?” I puffed out my cheeks and blew gently on the wound on Caleb’s face. HDespite being a little taken aback, he obediently sat still. “After that…”

I leaned a bit closer to him and delicately kissed his injured cheek, just like he had kissed the cut on my palm when I was careless before.

“This is a blessing of speedy recovery for you…”

*

* *

Opening the headmaster’s office door, I saw the kid sitting alone outside. One of his cheekbones was swollen, his clothes were untidy and covered in mud. He peered up at me with determination and a hint of guilt.

“Am I in trouble, Mom?”

In that child, I saw the imprints of the boy who had been by my side many years ago.

“Of course you are. Violence is not the way to solve problems. I've taught you better than that."

The child dropped his head, disappointed. My severe expression eased, and I softly ruffled his hair. "You also need to know that it was the right thing to do to stand up for your friend."

He glanced up at me with a cheerful expression. I added, “However, next time, remember to use your brain, not your brawn. You're just like your father.”

The child smiled and grasped my hand tightly. On the way home, an airship sailed overhead from Skyhaven. The little boy waved up and said:

“I think Dad will be home soon!”

“Let’s hurry then. How about we throw him a lovely welcome back party at home?"

[xogiulianna]

CLOSER TO GOD

being forced to attend church leads you to chris, an altar boy who may not be as pure as you anticipated.

contains : subject of religion / church / the bible, oral (fem receiving), edging (?)

PLEASE READ : i apologize to those who are very religious - my intention is not to disrespect or offend anyone. i also understand that all churches are vastly different in their practices, but i based the events of this fictional church after ones that i have personally visited

word count : approx 4k ( sorry! )

your hands smooth over your jean skirt. the hem doesn’t even reach your mid thighs, yet it was the most modest-looking skirt you owned. tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of your white cardigan, you glance around the church as attendees file out of their pews for communion.

your parents finally had enough - after catching you sneaking around with boys, drinking, smoking, and receiving countless detentions at school - they realized that their efforts to stop your rebellious tendencies weren’t enough.

their last resort? church.

your mother and father attended every sunday, but they never felt the need to force you to come with them. they were very lenient about your personal feelings on religion, they always told you that you were allowed to make your own decisions about your identity.

however, once you started consistently acting out, that freedom was stripped away as a consequence.

now, forcing you to attend mass, they hoped and prayed for a miracle. they held a sliver of hope that the word of God would completely change your mindset.

so, here you were; in church on a sunday morning, currently being ushered into the queue of people waiting to receive bread and wine.

as you shuffle forward, you hold your hands out, palms facing upwards, just like your mother showed you. she says that they have to be pointing towards heaven. you bow your head while you wait as well, it was supposedly an act of adoration.

you had to admit, going to church for the first time was somewhat nerve wracking. it seemed as if all the people around you were judging you, like they could tell you weren’t the innocent church girl type.

you begin to assume that the usual crowd wasn’t aware your parents even had a daughter, and now they were wondering why you hadn’t ever attended mass before.

were they guessing that your parents are ashamed of you? were they judging your outfit? were they wondering what you did to be forced to come to church? were they -

“the body of Christ.”

a male voice rips you from your racing mind, bringing you back to reality. you tear your eyes away from your hands, lifting your head up and meeting the eyes of a boy, who appears to be your age.

he’s wearing a long, white garment and a gold cross necklace - an altar boy. glancing to the side, there appears to be another boy your age right next to him, distributing the wine.

you definitely would have noticed him earlier on, had you been paying attention to the mass.

your eyes are wide as they flit over his features, taking in his smooth skin and the soft appearance of his hair as it lays in a neat yet disheveled manner.

and his eyes - you admire the perfectly clear blue color of them when they meet yours, and it makes a certain feeling swirl inside of your stomach.

you finally register the fact that he’s holding out a small piece of sacramental of bread for you, the body of Christ, as he said. you momentarily panic, running through the instructions your father gave you on receiving communion.

bow your head, say amen - they’ll place it on your tongue, right or.. in your hands?

in a moment of panic and confusion, you utter a small “amen,” and part your lips, sticking out your tongue to receive the bread.

your eyes are fixated on the boy, and you notice him swallow, his jaw suddenly clenched. he holds piercing eye contact with you as he holds up the bread, placing it directly on your tongue.

accepting it, you close your mouth and feel the thin wafer dissolve on your tastebuds. it’s stale and bland. as you swallow, the boy’s eyes dart down to your lips, then your chest, then your legs, and back upwards again.

it was so subtle that you would’ve missed it if you blinked - but no, you definitely saw him check you out, and it made your imagination run wild.

you hear your mother’s voice faintly from behind you, telling you to hurry up in a harsh whisper.

you did take much longer than needed - but you just couldn’t stop staring at this guy. you were extremely intrigued.

you give him one last lingering glance over your shoulder as you turn away to move on and receive the blood of Christ.

friday night arrives after what seems like an eternity.

your parents were bewildered - you had managed to behave yourself all week. they whispered to each other behind your back, conspiring about the church and wondering if God really did perform some kind of miracle on your family to rid you of your rebellious mindset.

unfortunately, your sudden change of heart had no correlation to the religion itself. no, you were performing for something else. someone else. playing the part of a nice, sweet, goody-two-shoes in order to practice for the boy who’s been infiltrating your mind since sunday.

assuming that he was a virtuous, honorable, exemplary person, you wanted to make a good impression on him if you were to cross paths again.

your mother and father were overjoyed when you agreed to come to the annual festival your church held each summer. you’ve heard rumors about this event, and it truly just seemed like a excuse for adults to get drunk and let their kids run around aimlessly, not to mention the teenagers that sneak away into the woods and hook up - all in the name of God.

you wore jean shorts and a white silk tank top with a lace trim, tying your hair up in a ponytail to combat the summer evening’s warm air.

wandering around the area outside the church, you look around at all of the various booths set up, hosting games and other activities to collect money to fund the church.

your parents were long gone, they left you to meet up with their own friends, quickly disappearing into the scattered crowds. as your eyes scan the premises, you catch a glimpse of a boy entering the church doors.

it can’t be him, can it? there’s no way it would be this easy to get him alone, to simply find him in the church that was surely void of other guests right now - prayer was definitely not on any of these people’s minds while they mill around the festival.

strolling up to the church entrance, you glance behind you to make sure no one was looking before tugging the door open, slipping inside the building.

you make your way through the lobby, glancing down a hallway and seeing several doors leading to what appears to be various multipurpose rooms and offices.

at the very end of the hall, you spot a door that was left ajar.

you catch a glimpse of a large stained glass window and pews on the inside. hesitantly, you walk down the hallway, keeping your footsteps soft and quiet.

reaching the doorframe, you slightly push the door open further - resulting in a loud creak.

the noise makes you wince, and you stick your head inside the room. your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes land on a boy - not just any boy, but the altar boy - currently staring at you from his kneeling position at the pew.

it was odd to see him dressed in casual clothes, because the image that’s been infiltrating your mind all week was of him in his formal church attire.

the bright white of his long sleeve shirt makes him appear with an almost angelic glow. his bare knees are pressed into the kneeler attached to the pew in front of him, his light gray shorts hanging low on his hips. his blue eyes peek out from underneath the strands of hair that lay across his forehead while he gazes at you.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to barge in..” you apologize, somewhat anticipating him to berate you for coming into the room and interrupting him. it appears to be a separate chapel, designated for smaller, more intimate prayer and worship.

“s’all good,” the boy casually says, pushing himself up from his kneeling position and sitting down in the pew, scooting over and leaving an open spot next to him. “you’re allowed to be here, y’know.” he assures you.

“oh, okay. i didn’t know.” you breathe out, somewhat relieved. you slowly walk over to him, running your fingers along the side of the wooden pew before sitting down. his eyes trail you, watching your every movement. “why aren’t you out at the festival?” you ask, locking eyes with him.

“i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, his lips tugging into a smirk.

you look him up and down, giving him a grin. “none of this,” you gesture vaguely around the room, “is really my ideal situation.”

he nods, letting out a low hum.

“how about you, altar boy? why are you hiding?” you question.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “i don’t have anything to hide from.” he shrugs, glancing around the small chapel, gazing momentarily at the stained glass window that depicts some sort of biblical event.

you stare at him while you ponder his rather cryptic answer, admiring the way the sunset filters through the tinted glass and hits his skin, casting bright hues of several colors onto his face.

“and my name is chris, by the way.” he adds, turning back to face you. “y’know, i’ve never seen you at church before, not till last sunday.” he continues, looking at you curiously.

you nod, letting out a huff. “yeah, my parents made me go.” you mutter.

“oh yeah? how come?” he cocks his head to the side.

“they think i’m some sort of evil rebellious kid - which, i don’t really agree with, but they thought that going to church would be a good solution.” you explain, sounding slightly annoyed as you recall the whole situation.

“mm,” he hums. “are they gonna make you confess?”

“confess?” you raise your brows. “why would i need to confess?”

the ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “well, obviously you’ve committed some type of sin for your parents to have to force you to go to church.” he says smugly.

you scoff. “i don’t need to confess anything.”

“c’monn,” he says, dragging out the word. “why don’t you practice it with me? i’m sure they’re gonna want you to do it at some point. i’m not as qualified as a priest, but i might be able to help you.”

you stare at his hopeful expression for a long moment. you sense that there’s an ulterior motive to his proposal; but you decide to play along with it for now.

“fine,” you grumble, hesitantly agreeing. “how does it work? all the things i’ve done just magically go away?”

“confession helps you get closer to God when you receive the prayer of forgiveness.” he says lowly. his eyes scan your frame, lingering on your legs and chest just like they did during the communion. “first, you make the sign of the cross.”

he demonstrates, and you mimic his actions with a small sigh.

“good,” he says. you don’t know if it was just your tainted mind, but his voice sounded almost sultry, making the atmosphere shift from innocent to corrupt. “now, repeat after me, okay?” he instructs.

you give him a small nod, allowing him to proceed.

“bless me, for i have sinned. this is my first confession. these are my sins.”

after you echo his words, he gestures vaguely for you to continue speaking.

“what?” your face twists in confusion. “i just.. say bad things that i’ve done?”

“anything you need to get off your chest,” he replies, shamelessly eyeing you at this point, making you really question this whole situation. “i promise it’ll help.”

“okay,” you sigh, shooting him an unamused look. “uh.. i guess - disobeying my parents, mainly. and drinking, too. that’s probably not good.” you murmur, in disbelief that you were confessing your sins to the boy that you’ve been having thoughts of, thoughts that were nowhere close to being holy.

“yeah?” he taunts. “anything else?”

“i can’t think,” you shrug. “i don’t know what’s a sin and what isn’t.”

“how about.. lust?” he says, slumping back against the pew and crossing his arms over his chest. you glance at his arms, seeing the way they slightly flex underneath the soft white material of his sleeves. he spreads his legs out, drawing your eyes down to his lap for a split second.

your eyes are wide - you weren’t expecting him to be so blunt. chris serves this church, after all. you didn’t exactly anticipate him to be asking you about lust, of all things.

you assumed he was all pure, like a stereotypical church boy.

“what about it?” you ask quietly.

“it’s common.” he says with a grin, shifting his hips around slightly. “y’know.. premarital sex, self-gratification,”

“self gratification?” you cut him off, repeating his words. “you mean, like..”

“masturbation,” he says, confirming your silent assumption with a curt nod.

you snag your lip between your teeth, staring down at your lap and toying with the hem of your denim shorts as a million thoughts race through your head all at once, your heartbeat picking up speed.

“well?” he presses. “do you give into that sort of temptation?”

you look up, peering at him through your lashes. you remember how well you’d behaved all week, so you try to keep up the facade.

“no, i don’t.” you lie through your teeth. “i only have thoughts.”

butterflies swirl in your stomach when you see his smirk grow wider at your reply.

“hmm,” he hums, something about his countenance coveys the idea that he can tell you’re being dishonest. “can you tell me more about these thoughts?”

why does he seem so eager? there’s no way he’s actually into this - but you won’t know for sure unless you test the waters a little bit.

“well,” you drop your voice to a more sensual tone. “they haven’t left my mind all week.”

“oh?” he leans closer, extending his arm and draping it across the top of the pew, his fingers nearly touching your shoulder. “go on, confess everything, angel.”

that name - oh, God. the things you were imagining right now were probably sinful enough to warrant the devil himself dragging you down into hell.

“they started after i went to my first mass,” you slowly continue, eyeing him carefully. “i saw a person that made me think about doing some really bad things with them.”

his eyes darken, a sense of hunger now adorning his features.

“and did you touch yourself when you were envisioning these things?” he rasps, his fingers finding their way up to your ponytail, grabbing your hair tightly in his fist and making you gasp when he gives it a small tug.

“no,” you breathe out, your head tipping backwards. “because he’s truly a man of God. i couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

a laugh rumbles in his chest. “good girl,” he mutters. “why don’t you tell me exactly what you’ve been imagining?”

instead heat floods your stomach and pools between your legs. fuck, you definitely got the wrong impression of him.

he lets go of your hair, his fingers now traveling across your upper back and beginning to toy with the strap of your tank top. goosebumps erupt over your skin, and you feel a chill down your spine despite the room being warmed by the rays of the setting sun.

your lips open and close several times as you try to find the right way to voice your imagination, but the words end up crumbling in your mouth every time.

chris’s voice pierces through your mind once again. “having trouble?” he snickers. “why don’t i help you out?” he offers, his words carrying a very obvious underlying message.

he laughs again at your lack of reply when you just continue to stare at him. “just come with me. wanna show you something.”

he simply stands up, and you follow suit. he places his hand on your lower back, guiding you out of the chapel and into another room in the same hallway.

“what is this?” you ask, glancing around the new room. it contains a desk, numerous bookshelves and a leather couch.

his lips brush the shell of your ear as he replies. “the priest’s office.”

you hear the soft click of the door as chris shuts it behind the two of you, followed by the noise of a lock turning.

you let out a shaky exhale. everything about this seems blasphemous. yet, then again, since when were you ever worried about breaking norms? it just shocked you that an altar boy was the one initiating something like this.

“chris? are you sure this is-”

“shhh,” he hushes you, guiding you towards the couch. “i’m gonna help you, angel.”

the back of your legs meets the leather surface and you collapse down onto the cushions. chris grins in satisfaction. he bends down, leaning over you and carding through a row of books behind your head.

your eyes fixate on the glint of his golden cross necklace dangling in front of your face. you imagine how it would look swinging above you as he slams his cock inside your walls.

you wonder if chris has ever had sex, or if he’s saving himself for marriage like he was supposed to. you wonder if he can tell that you’re not a virgin.

“here.” chris says, dropping a brown book into your lap. the title reads HOLY BIBLE. there’s a red bookmark sticking out of it, but you don’t want to open the text yet, you’re not even sure why chris is giving it to you.

you trace your finger over the slightly worn cover. chris looks down at you from his standing position as he towers over you, his expression salacious.

the image of your wide eyes staring up at him is, in itself, tempting him to no end - he’ll repent later.

without a word, he begins to sink down onto his knees. it nearly makes your heart stop - the image of him like this, it’s an exact replication of the scenarios you’ve been conjuring up in your mind.

how did he know that this is what you wanted?

“what are you doing, chris..?” you breathe out, clutching the bible tightly.

“m’gonna pray for you down here,” he teases. “get you close.. closer to God, just like i promised.”

he doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before he’s asking you another question in that tone that sends electric shocks coursing through your body.

“can i take these off?”

slowly, you nudge your thighs apart for him. “yeah,” you breathe out, nodding. a sinful look takes over his features.

“wrong answer.” he mutters darkly.

you furrow your brows in confusion, now watching his hands skillfully undo your button and zipper. it makes your stomach churn when he says cryptic shit like that.

your jaw drops when he roughly tugs your shorts and panties down in a single motion. he shoves your underwear in his pocket, before carelessly tossing your shorts to the side.

he glances up, snickering at your shocked expression. it was amusing to him; revealing this side of his personality that no would ever expect.

“angel, why don’t you read that page for me?” he coos, eyeing the bookmark peeking out from the bible.

every time he calls you ‘angel’ it only reminds you of the fact that you’re behaving in a way that would have the clergy calling you very different types of names.

you crack open the bible, immediately unable to focus on the words as chris hooks your legs over his shoulders, dipping his head further between your thighs.

“where.. um, where do i start?” you ask, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“first Corinthians six eighteen,” he says, his breath fanning across your skin as he speaks. he begins to press soft kisses up the inside of your thigh, his fingers sinking deeper into your flesh as he holds you in place.

“oh, shit.” you whisper, wildly glancing between the wall of text and chris’s lips that are steadily inching closer to your soaking folds. “please, chris..” you whine, getting needier by the second.

he chuckles again, his blunt nails digging into your skin. “m’not gonna do anything ‘till you start reading.”

you let out an impatient whimper. “fuck- fine!”

you focus your attention to the page, fixing your lips to read the verse. you hear chris hum in approval.

“flee from sexual immorality,” you begin to recite the religious text, your voice coming out as merely a squeak. “‘every other sin a- mmph!”

you can’t bite back the moan that escapes you when chris suddenly licks a long stripe up your aching pussy, all the way from your hole to your clit. you toss your head back, your knuckles white from gripping the book so hard.

“well, don’t stop now,” he growls. “fuckin’ jezebel, aren’t you? reading the bible while havin’ me right between your legs.”

“oh, my god..” you whisper mindlessly, peering at him over the book. you were going insane just from a single kitten lick.

“am i your god?” he says mockingly, a smug smile plastered across his face.

“chris.. please, keep going.” you plead, squirming beneath his rough hold.

“you know what to do.”

with a desperate whimper in the back of your throat, you force yourself to keep reading. the very moment you open your mouth to speak, chris’s mouth is back on your pussy, moving softly and slowly, tasting every bit of your arousal.

“every other sin a person commits - oh, fuck - is.. is outside the b-body..” you struggle to force out the verse as chris’s tongue slides up and down your folds, his nose bumping against your clit as he buries his head impossibly closer to your core, the soft strands of his hair tickling your thighs.

“fuckin’ finish it, slut. tell me how wrong it is, what we’re doin’ right now.” he says, nipping at the soft flesh of your legs and making your body twitch at the slightly painful feeling of his teeth pinching you.

“but.. but the sexually immoral p-person sins against his o-own body.” you finish reciting the words with an animalistic groan as chris circles his warm tongue around your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves. your eyes squeeze shut in pure ecstasy.

“that’s you, isn’t it?” he sneers, his lips brushing your sensitive spot as he speaks. “the sexually immoral?”

a whine is torn from your throat as he lets go of one of your legs, the pad of his thumb finding your clit. the bible slips from your limp hands, landing on the couch beside you and slamming shut. “chris.. mmh..” his name tumbles from your lips like a prayer.

“fuckin’ answer me,” he orders bitterly before blowing cold air from his lips onto your pussy, the cool sensation making you suddenly whimper and writhe.

“yeah, i’m- oh, god. i’m immoral,” you reply pathetically, your hips desperately inching toward his mouth while he rubs your bundle of nerves.

suddenly, the contact halts. there’s no stimulation on your clit, and your legs are being dropped back down against the couch, chris’s hands no longer on you at all.

“wha- no,” you whine, opening your eyes. you see chris picking himself up off his knees, the newly formed bulge in his shorts aligning with your gaze as he stands upright.

“sorry.” he utters the word coldly, looking complacent. “i told you i’d get you closer, not all the way there.”

your face drops, a sense of dread washing over you. “what the fuck? are you serious?” you ask in disbelief.

“don’t be mad,” he purrs, reaching out to roughly grab your chin, tipping your head upwards. “being aware you’re a sinner is the first step to being forgiven - and you just admitted it to me, like a good girl.”

all you can do is stare up at him, your jaw clenched in anger.

he chuckles at your wordless vexation. “i’ll see you on sunday, angel.” he murmurs, shoving your head to the side with a careless push of his fingers when he lets go of your chin and turns to exit the room, slamming the door behind him.

it infuriates you that he automatically assumes you’ll come back to attend church once more - and it enrages you even more that you know you will.

collapsing back against the priest’s couch, you wipe away beads of sweat that collected on your forehead.

you’re left wondering if chris was an angel sent down to give you a taste of heaven - because that’s exactly what his mouth felt like - or if he was the devil’s advocate, worming his way into your life so he can delve your mind deeper into sin.

a/n: this took me forever.

xo giulia

[f1gur4t1v3]

Sort of a Part 2 of my “Jason and his many parents” post

I will forever love the idea of Harvey “I lost all that I loved due to a freak accident, so I will be the dad who stepped-up” Dent, and his adopted son, Jason “My past father figure and I get into physical fights weekly and I need someone who won’t abandon me for who I am” Todd.

Bruce Wayne played an important role in both Jason and Harvey’s lives, Bruce was the man who took Jason in and failed to save him when Jason needed him most. He was also Harvey’s best friend, supported him through out his campaign to become mayor, and then failed to save Harvey from the acid that made him the man he is now.

Harvey understands the pain Jason feels, they both resent the same man and it makes it easier for them to bond. Jason doesn’t think he’ll ever see Harvey as a father figure no matter how hard he tries, the last two he’s had hurt him more than anything in the world, so maybe if he doesn’t believe Harvey is his dad he won’t hurt him as well.

Of course with a super villain dad you get some fun though, Jason doesn’t help out with heists but he doesn’t exactly stop them either. He’s sorta just there eating a sandwich or stalking Harvey from a far off building to make sure his other family doesn’t beat the Two Faced man to hard.

And then you obviously have the crime family. Aunt Harley and Ivy come around often to have tea with Jason, Harley likes to talk with him about life and just making sure he’s doing alright in general.

Obviously you also have Uncle Cobblepot as well, Jason’s not the biggest fan of him. He feels odd calling someone who owns the club he’s seen Bruce stripping at before in his Bruce Wayne persona uncle. That doesn’t stop him from seeing him as a part of the crime family though.

Who could forget Step-mom Selina as well, she helps Jason catch up on Bruce and his siblings lives. He can’t be there to experience it but just hearing about what’s happening from Selina is more than enough to make him happy.

Last but not least you have Edward and Crane. They’re not exactly uncles to Jason. They’re better than Penguin though because he’s never had to see a naked Bruce dancing for them before. He helps Eddie out with Riddles, giving personal hints about the Batman’s life to spice up the stakes. Then he is able to study Scarecrows latest Fear Toxin remake before he goes and holds some poor guy hostage.

To say Jason wasn’t spoiled either would be an understatement. From necklaces that compliment his eyes from Selina’s latest burglary, to Penguin setting some of his men up around Crime Alley to keep Batman out of his territory. He may not be the kid any of the major Villians wanted, but by god do they love him.

He’s their giant ball of pure muscle who looks like he could snap you in half, but inside he’s just a sweet boy who’s been looking for someone who’s willing to tolerate and love him, especially when it feels like nobody will. The villains refuse to let another soul stray down the path they did, so they all take the broken Robin under their wings and teach him how to fly again with hopes that one day he’ll rejoin the bats in their nest.

[bloodnikki]

After Jinx and Ekko run into each other (She was robbing his ship and he was defending himself from a pirate attack) Jinx may or may not have kidnapped him. It wasn't what she planned to do. It kinda just happened. The crew was making noise and asking what was taking her so long.

Really, it was Ekko's fault for getting in the way and not putting on a show. By the time Jinx made it back to the crew, they were fleeing and needed a few people to ensure no one attacked them as they left. Plus, it's totally not on her she allowed himself to get knocked out. Really, it's on him. She was totally blame less in this.

"Really?" He struggled against the rope.

"I didn't wanna. They kinda just... forced my hand." Jinx sighed. "At least your alive. They are a trigger happy bunch."

"Ugh, I thought you were turning over a new leaf. But you haven't changed."

"I've changed." She's offended. "I have. Everyone is alive and well. Just waiting for the next port before we let em' go. Also, I'm jumping ship soon. I'm done paying my way."

"Paying your way?"

"Yay, like I get to travel on this here ship if I do some work and if I do it well I get a good meal." She shrugged. "Traveling is pricy and I'm a wanted criminal in most parts."

"You didn't have to be." Ekko noted.

"No one wanted me around. Well, not walking free that is and that's not my style. I'm meant to fly." She held out her arms and paced back and further to showcase flying. "Plus, I only brought trouble. Had to break cycles. Walk away and start fresh."

"You didn't-"

"And look at you. Big guy on the streets. Well, seas. Leading a massive ship and stuff." Jinx smirked. "Cleaned up pretty well too. Almost look like a whole different person. You did well. Really well."

"That had nothing to do with you leaving."

"You didn't go so far when I was hanging around."

"Kinda didn't get the chance. Zaun needed me and-"

"Ugh, Boy Savior. I get it. You'd never leave while it needed saving." Jinx frowned. "Don't act like I didn't help break it."

"You were a child. You were being used and-"

"Weren't you also a kid?" Jinx asked softly. "Same age as me or just about. Why is okay for ya to take all the credit and shine for rebuilding and saving em' all but I get a pass for being 'So young! So naive! I couldn't have known better! I was raised by a monster!' It hardly seems fair...BUT whatever! That's all in the pass. I'm here now and you... while you're tied up waiting for your own savior."

"Ah. I don't need saving." Ekko rolled his eyes.

"If your lookin' for that blade hiding up your sleeve, I got it here." Jinx pulled out a knife. She grabbed another. "And your boot one. I think this one was in your hair."

"I don't think you found them all."

"I'm pretty sure I did."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you haven't." Ekko smirked.

"Did you hide one in your pants? Ha, you hid one in your pants! I'm not going there. I'd rather you just go free." Jinx blushed before covering her eyes. "Go on. Get it over with."

"Don't open your eyes. I have to get redressed."

"Way to make this weird Ekko."

"Me make this weird? You kidnapped me!"

"I did not. I merely stood by while other people forced you to come with us."

"Oh, yeah. That's wildly different."

"I know. It really is."

[anastasia-selwyn]

Don't worry, love. Anastasia chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear which revealed another mark on the side of her neck. I'll still be here to support you, especially in your new relationship. She then turned her gaze towards Kingsley. Don't hurt him, yeah? As I've said before, Jamie is my best friend, and I still love this idiot, don't worry, not in the way you think. He's all yours, babe. Make sure he eats on time, since this big dummy usually forgets because of practice. Just love him the way he deserves, the way I couldn't, and I'll be your number one supporter, promise.

Phoenix? He's not going to hurt me. That boy has been in love with me for like forever. Anastasia smiled like a love sick girl, which she actually was. He just loves me, more than I could ever know, I suppose. He looks at me like I'm the only girl in the world, hell, I think he sees me as a goddess. And I love him, more than words could ever describe. Jamie, you have nothing to worry about Phoenix. Even if, you know I can pretty much castrate him with a flick of my wand. If he ever becomes an ass, yeah I guess you could beat him up? Anastasia answered with a laugh, before giving the two a stern look. If you two ever hurt each other, we're gonna have problems. I don't need my friends hurting each other now, do I?

When Kingsley gave her a surprised look, she gave him an assuring nod. Yes, babe, we're friends now. If Jamie loves you, then I love you now as well. I don't know if he told you, but my new year's resolution was to be a better person, so please don't look at me as if I'm going to attack or anything. Consider me as a friend, I suppose.

So, Anastasia said, changing the topic. How'd you two start? I wanna know everything! She stood up, making her way to sit next to Kingsley with a bright smile that held no malice for the two. Leave no detail out. Give me everything, even the spicy stuff! It's the weekend, so we have all the time in the world.

(next is her request about the break up plot-)

@thathojamie @king-ofthe-crop

Anastasia walked into the common room with a big smile on her face, humming like a mad woman, still reeling from her time with the love of her life, Phoenix. Her lips were still swollen from making out with him, her cheeks still flushed, and just above her chest was a hickey she proudly wore.

@thathojamie