#and the PHONE CALL???

[homunculus-argument]

This counts as vent art.

[r4cs0]

[mobydyke]

one thing about me is that I'm looking stuff up. you mentioned something and I don't know it? I am pulling out my phone and googling that shit. an actor? theoretical physics? a world leader? a vocabulary word? I am on the wikipedia page as we speak

[innerchildabortionclinic]

my best friend PROBABLY FRAUD really needs to give me space sometimes

[bonesandthebees]

one of the most infuriating things about becoming an adult is when you realize that it actually is 10x easier to solve problems by making a phone call vs literally any other communication method

[laddertek]

yupperz i stealz

later...

[visit-ba-sing-se]

I love ending e-mails with "thank you in advance". Like what are you going to now? Not do the thing I already thanked you for? Bring dishonor on yourself like that? No? I didn't think so. Check mate you have been played by the master of manipulation.

[theorder6]

Babby's 2st post :) modern tech is infuriating, and it was either this or I write a manifesto.

[fallintomidnight]

officer : "Do you identify this man? "

Sirius :

Regulus, looking like a carbon copy of his brother : " I've never met this man in my life"

[prlssprfctn]

I will forgive DC for not using All-Blades stuff on Jason, only if they give me a comedy little run, where the family finds out that he is a fucking chosen one, because the half of the world tries to reach for his help in magic stuff, which he ignores — so they are forced to beg Bruce to affect his son, somehow.

Bruce: Hey, John. Long time no see. What happened?

John Constantine, tired as fuck: I need you to ask Jason to pick the goddamn phone.

Dick: Is he wanted in LA, too?

John Constantine: Wanted? Guy is having a fucking blast. Do you know how many people need the Chosen One's assistance?

Damian — who actually knows it, so he is not surprised — scoffing: Todd? Assistance?

Tim, who knows as much as Bruce and Dick, which means nothing: Jason? THE CHOSEN ONE?

Bruce, catching Jason near the fridge in three in the morning: Jason? When were you going to tell us that you were chosen to... restore the balance between good and bad, and had magical swords?

Jason, chewing on dry cereals while skimming through the book: Like what, was it hard?

[outtamynoggin]

Jason and Tim talking about dealing with Bruce

Jason: How do you do it? Isn't he so... frustrating?! Doesn't he drive you nuts?!

Tim: Of course he does.

Jason: Then what do you do instead of wanting to strangle him?

Tim: Easy. Set Dick on him.

Jason: ...What?

Tim: Yeah. Nothing sends Bruce into a tailspin faster than a disappointed Grayson.

Jason: *Looking at Tim with awe in his eyes* You're a scary, evil, little genius

Tim: Yup. Works on everyone.

Jason: *impressed* Damn.

Jason: Wait... what do you mean it works on everyone?

Tim: What I said - it works on everyone.

Jason: You... you've never set Dick on me, have you?

Tim:

Jason: ... *cracking his knuckles*

Tim: Noooooo

Jason: *grinning meanly* Hey, lil bro. I think it's time for some brotherly bonding

Tim: *already running* Dick?! DICKKK!!!!!

Jason: *running after him* You shut up!!!

[rapplesart]

Jason : Dick, I need your help.

Dick : Oh my god it's finally happening my little brother needs help!

Jason : Dick listen-

Dick : Alright so you know how to bury a body and make it disappear. You're good at cooking and stuff so no household help. You definetly don't need a pickup after drinking...... So what kind of emotional mess are We in?

Jason : First of all, rude!

Dick : You'd hang up on me after said "I need", I am nothing but polite here!

Jason : Well you're not wrong.

Dick : See?!? So, emotional mess?

Jason : Yeah OK listen, I did a Bruce.

Dick : You did a what now?

Jason : A Bruce. There's a kid sleeping on my couch and -

Dick: Oh my god. Are they an orphan?

Jason : Yes? No? I don't know.

Dick : Black hair, blue eyes?

Jason :..... Yes

Dick:..... Well,.... Are you gonna let them fight crime after they discovered your secret identity and/or force their way into your nightlife by being a sidekick you never asked for but can't get rid off any more?

Jason : OK Listen, he came like that!

Dick, whispering: Oh my god, you did a Bruce.

[renewashere]

this reminded me of them

(text under cut)

[sai-int]

fwb!simon, reader catches feelings- NO. FWB!SIMON BUT SIMON CATCHES FEELINGS. [ pt 2 ]

--

it's quite simple.

simon comes home from a mission, he's restless, twitching, pacing, can't figure out what to do with his hands.

so what does he do? he knocks on your door, waiting anxiously until you open it and he's scooping you up, hauling you across the hall and into his basically empty apartment, and fucking you into the mattress for the night.

and you're just so good at taking it—whatever he gives you and whenever he gives it. you cry, whine, beg and plead for his cock in all the ways you know how—until you go blue in the face—and simon fucking revels in it. he's all harsh words and degrading names, calling you a filthy slut, his cocksleeve, a fucking cumdump—you name it, he's probably said it.

it's perfect, until it's not.

he's spent months fucking you stupid, night after night. he fucks you even when he's not restless. he fucks you when he's bored, when he's lonely. especially when he's lonely.

simon riley's a gridlocked man. hardly anything ever gets past him, but it didn't take many rendezvous between your thighs for him to forget that.

his mask would come fully off—not just above his lips—and you'd still kiss him breathless, still scream his name until your throat went hoarse. you weren't afraid of everything underneath. if anything, you liked it.

It's not like the both of you frequently exchanged actual conversations, but he could tell by the way you dripped and soaked his sheets even more than you ever had.

after that, he even began to gather enough courtesy to let you get some rest after he fucks you, letting you stay wrapped in his sheets for whatever sliver of the night was left.

you never pushed, and that's what he liked most about you. you always went by his terms because you never really cared as long as you got fucked six ways from sunday.

so, you always left when he woke without a problem. that was the arrangement and you were more than fine with getting a good fuck only a few steps away from your own home.

then even you began to notice the shift.

simon could never fuck you badly, per se. but he began to fuck you more softly. tenderly, as if he was suddenly aware that humans shouldn't be bent in half as long he's had you pinned underneath him in the past. he'll rock his hips into you with similar fervor, but he'd caress you, rather than grab at you. hold your forehead to his, rather than choke you with his thick hands.

then came the praise. god, it's like fucking a completely different man. from one week to the next, you're no longer a slut or a hole, you're pretty girl and angel. it makes your head spin. you try to pinpoint the change and why it happened, but you can't. somehow, you cum twice as hard now.

it all came to an ugly head when he spent the better part of 2 hours between your thighs, moaning and groaning as if you were doing him a service.

now, you weren't going to complain, but love just wasn't in the cards for you right now, and the looks simon was giving you from where he lapped at your cunt were filled with adoration, like he was waiting for you to tell him how good he was doing.

hell, you could see a phantom tail wagging each time his eyes met your own. and after a session that felt more like making love than an explosion of pure lust, you could feel his eyes lingering on you as you slipped your panties back on.

"what?" you hum, not wanting to face him in fear you'd see that godforsaken look in his eyes again.

and you were right, because he's staring at you like he's about to drop to one knee. "nothin'."

you toss your shirt back over your head and steel yourself as you turn to face him.

"simon," you start and he's already hanging on your words, "what's going on with you lately? i don't mean to sound rude but—"

this is it, he thinks. it has to be now, or nothing will change. he's not a religious man, but if he's ever prayed to god for anything, it's for this to become something real.

"'m in love with ya."

one blink, then two. two to three, three to four. you stare at him as you try to piece together what he's saying.

"simon, i don't think you understand—"

"—i do. i do understand and i want ya, bad. so bad, i can't even stop thinkin' bout ya, sweetheart. even when y'not 'ere im thinkin' about ya. everything about y'is perfect, and i don't think i can function without y'with me."

this is the most emotion you've ever seen out of simon and it rocks you to your core. if you didn't know better—and if the lighting wasn't so dim—you'd think he was tearing up.

you didn't know how to break it to him.

[paranormal-taters]

(nevermind I found the clip and forgot that you can't put a video in the reblogs)

This. This is the funniest thing the McElboys have ever done.