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reidmotif · 2 days ago

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I’ve Got My Eye On You

Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

I’d always been good at watching people.

My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times.

And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries.

Pay more attention, I guess.

It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own.

The infamous "Dr Reid".

His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).

The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action. Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that.

I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it. Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms.

My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment). When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet.

I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life?

Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life.

I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him.

At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry, out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God.

Like, come on. Give me anything here.

Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now.

Now?

Now…

Silence.

Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late.

A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home.

I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and-

He wasn’t alone.

Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me.

He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them.

For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night.

His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching.

I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl.

I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction.

“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.

She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck-

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her within one of the only blind spots within the apartment.

I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?!

I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him.

I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.

Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly.

When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university.

That was my cue. I turned off the cameras, quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable.

I’m in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that.

I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me.

“I noticed that one first, you know.”

I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.

He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?”

I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose.

“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:

“I’m sure you knew that though.” His smile turns into more of a smirk.

God, did he have to be so hot?

“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him.

“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity.

I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him.

He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.”

I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.

“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.”

“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was.

“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.”

“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring.

“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room.

I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do?

“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure.

“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted.

“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?”

I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?

“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was.

I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.”

“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.

“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him.

“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.”

At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh.

“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”

There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.

“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly.

He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed.

“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes.

I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want.

I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him.

“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.

“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze.

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me.

I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name.

He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed.

“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?”

I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated.

“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.”

He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure.

I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me.

Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself?

“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”

“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss.

I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment.

“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”

I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically.

He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy.

Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence.

“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly.

“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to.

“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face.

“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily.

“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.

“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?”

okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!

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mutable-manifestation · 1 day ago

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Ghost Chirps AU Part 4

A little treat in these trying times

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

***

The first time Daniel chirps (to Vlad’s knowledge, but it’s actually the fifth, he was just out of range in the GZ all the previous time) Vlad responds immediately.

The boy attacks him just as viciously as ever, and Vlad assumes from then on that the boy is merely taunting him, crying out for family only to go “no, not you.”

Vlad ignores it from then on. It isn’t particularly frequent anyway.

When he hears him chirping back and forth with some other ghost somewhere on the East Coast he feels his eye twitch.

He dismisses it, however. No doubt it is one of Daniel’s little ghost allies helping him try to antagonize Vlad into showing up just to be rejected again.

Well, Vlad won’t fall for Daniel’s petty tricks. He would be Vlad’s son in time one way or another, no need to indulge the boy’s temporary sense of superiority.

It is grating when it wakes him up in the middle of the night, but he goes back to sleep quickly after.

Midday, he thinks he might have to track down Danny’s little friend for a nice long chat about Not Doing That. But that’s an issue for later.

Before “later” can arrive, Vlad finds himself taken into “temporary custody” while the police search his house.

He goes peacefully, assured that they’ll find nothing amiss, all of his ecto materials tucked neatly away in a lab that is inaccessible any way other than phasing. And wrapped in lead just in case.

He does not notice that a member of the Justice League is involved, nor would he care, certain that none could find his lab. And utterly unaware of the JLD’s existence.

Not that the JLD is needed in this case.

Despite his best efforts to change every copy of the construction crews’ blueprints both digital and physical in order to eliminate knowledge of the inaccessible room, there’s no accounting for memory.

Officer Roger worked in construction before joining the force, and it was only less than a half a year ago that Masters’ Amity home was constructed. Officer Roger still remembers the doorless, windowless box they built alongside the small mansion itself. It’s nowhere to be found on the property, so he brings it up with his superior.

Orphan questions it - nearly giving the whole team heart-attacks in the process - but a simple “I used to work in construction” seems to be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

A two hour sweep with some metal detectors finds nothing.

Then Orphan reappears from the shadows, providing another jumpscare, before pressing a hand silently to the side of her head.

The crew watches in silence as well, giving their pulses a chance to slow.

A ten-count later Orphan’s hand drops, and she strides confidently to the rear-left corner of the mansion and points at the ground.

“200 feet beneath the foundation,” she says before disappearing back into the shadows.

The crew shares a look and gets to work.

The time it takes to dig up the cube is just more time spent in a cell for Vlad, where he waits patiently, assured he’ll be released soon enough.

The lab itself would be only a minor problem - there would be fines and inspections and a heavy watch until everything was brought up to code. Questions about how he accessed it would be a larger problem.

But worst of all, in the comfort of his lab? He’s not much for hiding away incriminating documents.

Of which there are many, given his propensity for keeping extensive records of his experiments, which include unethical cloning and what sums up to human experimentation.

Once they find the actual facilities for the experiments in his Wisconsin home? It will all be over for him.

Being a ghost he could, of course, simply flee the cell and start anew somewhere else, with a new identity or even in a new dimension altogether - so long as he could nab Maddie and her children to bring with him.

But within his labs, he also keeps extensive records of himself.

A copy of the Plasmius Maximus.

Other ghost- and halfa-capturing restraints.

When he hears steps approaching his cell 2 days into his stay when it is clearly not a mealtime, he thinks “finally” assured that he is about to be released.

He only registers that it is Batman after he’s been hit by the Plasmius Maximus - cut off from his powers for at least the next two hours.

He has no chance to complain, as he is subsequently tranqued unconscious to be taken to a more secure location.

***

It’s an hour and half after school let out when the cops - who had taken to trying to distract Jazz and Danny with cards games and work stories while they waited - step away to answer their radios.

When they return, they tell them that it’s “time to go.”

The siblings share a look, then shrug.

It wouldn’t be the first time the cops had to drive them home - rare though it was, there were at least 4 such occasions in their memories. It wasn’t a big deal.

They were less than enthused when the cops explained that they’d be heading to take them to the station instead of to home. Still, they chalked it up to the whole “questions about the Red Hood” thing and moved on.

At least it meant they could dodge a home visit like Danny had wanted.

Except when they get there, they are taken to a cushy room and introduced to their social worker, a woman with a kind smile and a soothing voice who introduces herself as Bethany Scott, sits them down and explains, very gently, that their parents are currently under investigation.

To her credit, she isn’t condescending. She doesn’t try to hide away the truth; when they ask why, she tells them.

It’s a surprisingly long list of charges. Of everything on it, the violation of the meta protection acts comes as the biggest surprise.

Their parents were obsessive about ghosts, but they were also good at it. They never attack anything that doesn’t have ectoplasm.

Well, barring a few misfires.

Another surprise comes then: the Anti-Ecto Acts don’t exist. Ghosts are covered by the MPA by design, the AEA would never have gotten off of the ground in any legal capacity. It is solely a creation of the GIW, an extreme “‘real’ humans only” supremacist group that had worked at every level to pull the wool over the eyes of the small town’s citizenry so thoroughly that they’d been thought a real government agency - the imitation of which would be just one of the many charges that every member they managed to capture would be facing.

Then Mrs Scott starts talking about placement options.

Their Aunt, they are told, is not an option.

It comes as a surprise to Danny. On quiet nights, when no ghosts showed up to interrupt him and Sam and Tucker weren’t up to distract him with a game of Doomed, his mind would sometimes wander back to that darkest of timelines.

He’d wondered how Vlad had ended up with custody. Being his godfather made him an option, but Danny would’ve wanted to go with Alicia. Will be damned, Danny would’ve plead on both knees with the judge to go with his aunt. Grieving or not, he’d have wanted as much distance between him and Vlad as possible,

He’d assumed Vlad must have done something to her or paid off the judge to rule in his favor.

To find out it was because she simply wouldn’t take him?

A part of him understands. He doesn't - Aunt Alicia is a kind person, yes, but not particularly loving or caring. When his parents brought up the subject of children with her on one of their rare visits, she described herself as having “less motherly instinct than a starving axolotl.”

Not an encouraging description after he read a book on axolotls for context.

With their options being “Aunt in a small wood cabin in the middle of nowhere with the emotional sensitivity of a bull in a china shop” and “Rich friend of the family who would enable them to stay in contact with their friends and could hire them therapists even if he’s personally useless for helping them through the grieving process” she probably also figured marking herself down as a solid non-option would just expedite them getting the help they need (because she does care, even if she herself can’t - won’t - be there for them in that way).

He doesn’t hate her, but the knowledge burns. To know that there really was no avoiding Vlad - in that horrible future and in the now - makes him sick to his stomach.

Except-

Except before he can spiral, Mrs Scott tells them that Vlad is also not an option. Because he’s also under investigation.

A hysterical giggle bursts past his lips before he can think to stop it.

“Why?” he asks, ignoring Jazz’ disapproving grimace.

It’s less funny when they’re told that he’s under investigation under suspicion of mostly the same violations as their parents - including MPA violation, given the whole “million dollar ghost” incident and related propaganda. As the mayor especially, he should’ve known the AEA weren’t real and that the GIW were frauds and it was his responsibility to do something about them.

Depending on how he’d interacted with the group, he might be looking at aiding and abetting treason - or just outright treason - charges.

“If Aunt Alicia and Vlad both aren’t able to take us, then where are we going to go?” Jazz asks, shoving her emotions aside to deal with the matter at hand.

“Ordinarily, we would call up a few local fosters and see if one could take you in for a few days while we look into more long-term options. Worst case scenario you would have to spend a night or two in a hotel suite connected to mine while I found someone,” she answers. “But the two of you are in luck; Batman is the one who brought the case to our attention - apparently some erratic behavior from Red Hood brought them here, don’t ask, I don’t have all the details - and offered to run your parents’ DNA to check for other relatives that could take you. There was a match.”

The siblings share another look.

Both grandparents on their mother’s side had been only children and both were dead. Aunt Alicia had already said no and had no children of her own. Their father had been disowned by his family, and even if their other Aunts and Uncles would have been willing to take them in it didn’t matter, because all 5 had died in various accidents on their “hunts.”

“Apparently your uncle, Jerry Fenton, had a fling before he passed with one Ms Sheila Haywood. Their son, Jason, was thought to be the son of Willis Todd and Mrs Haywood until the DNA test today. He was raised by Willis and Mrs Catherine Todd until his subsequent adoption by Mr Bruce Wayne, and is currently living in Gotham.”

And it sounds wrong - the only thing most Fentons could love was mystery and danger - thus why only one out of six had survived. But they don’t know enough to dispute it.

Also. The involvement of another billionaire is setting off alarm bells. On the one hand: this could be a fruitloop paying someone off in order to forcibly adopt them. On the other hand, maybe Jason Todd really was a Fenton and being adopted by fruitloops was some kind of curse on the current generation.

“We contacted Mr. Todd the moment the connection was made. He has expressed an interest in taking you in, and flew out immediately to come and meet you. He arrived not five minutes ago.”

She paused and gave them a sympathetic look.

“I understand that this is all a lot to take in. Please know that placing you with Mr. Todd is not the end of my duties; even after he takes you, I will be following you to Gotham. I’ll be looking into counselors for the both of you, and we’ll have a follow up on that topic in a maximum of a week’s time. I’ll also be doing regular home checks to ensure you’re both settling in well and that you’re being taken good care of.

Even with what little I’ve gleaned, it is obvious that the environment you both grew up in until now was neither a safe nor a healthy one. It is my job to ensure that doesn’t happen again. If you have any concerns about your placement home now or in the future, please do not hesitate to bring them up with me. If you worry something is not “important” enough to mention, rest assured that if it bothers you in the slightest, then it’s important to me.”

She gives them each a long look.

Then she brings in Jason.

#dpxdc #Ghost Chirps AU #finally updating this after...#*checks notes*#most of a year #oop

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occamstfs · 1 day ago

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What You Really Want

Milo mouths off about a man dating his long time crush before immediately learning the lesson that he should be less trusting of strange voices promising to fulfill his desires

Pretty standard straight to gay himbo/jockification! It will also be my final story for some time I believe, so I do hope you enjoy! -Occam

“It’s no fair that they literally have it all.” Like many a ‘nice guy’ Milo has spent an inordinate amount of time skulking social media and disparaging more physically gifted men as he stumbles across them. The root of his despair is not difficult to ascertain, his eyes burning with envy make quite clear the inner monologue of ‘girls always date assholes.’ He sneers as he comes across the most recent post of his friend and crush, Juliet. The jealous man of course knows next to nothing about the character of James, the jock-type now dating her, but judging by the gleaming smirk and the bulky arms of a killer hanging from his shoulders, the judgemental dweeb has more than enough evidence to speculate.

Delving into his memories, Milo’s face burns with embarrassment as he recalls mentioning his crush to Juliet, ‘Oh!’ her bright eyes shift uncomfortably and her cheeks begin to blush enough to match the pink tint she threw on this morning. Milo’s fist clenches as she almost giggles in her discomfort, ‘sorry Milo I guess- Well, I guess I just thought you were gay?’ After this Milo played it cool, he thinks. Hand scratching the back of his head as he asserts his straight identity and the two go on to have a meal far more quiet and awkward than usual. When new-boyfriend James comes to pick up Juliet, Milo forces a smile before staring daggers at his back as the pair walk away.

This brings us to the present hate scrolling session in which Milo is more than absorbed. Lips curl into a sneer as he traces the impossible to ignore curves of this must-be dullard’s defined body. Milo scoffs as he sees the litany of women that must make up the man’s dating history. “Bet they won’t even last a week, ha! I mean judging by how much the douche spends in the gym I bet he’s just using her as a beard anyway.”

With this final rather homophobic assertion, the nerd’s phone flashes before going dark, “What the-” before he has to determine whatever caused this, he goes stiff as a strange voice resounds through his head. ‘Tired of all the big boys getting what they want, hmm?’ Immediately concerned he’s lost his mind, Milo gets to powering back on his phone to call for help. ‘Now now, Milo. Do not worry your little head. I am here to help. Would you not like the chance to be just like them?’ Just like them. Envy burns through his veins greater than anything. Sensing this immediately, whatever this voice is seizes upon his clearly fragile psyche, its laughter steely and alien, ‘Ah ha ha. I thought so.’

Dropping his phone once more, Milo tries to drill the voice, “Wh- what are you exactly. Are you a dem- hm, an angel?” The voice answers almost before he even finishes the thought, ‘It matters not what I am. All that matters are your desires. Now. Do you wish to be all you desire, all this James embodies? All that he is in your head.” Miles gulps and almost starts drooling at the idea, just like James. Women at his fingertips whenever he wants, a body sculpted by the gods while keeping a far better mind than that oaf could ever afford. With next to no hesitation or forethought, Milo nods and the world goes dark.

When he awakens the poorly mannered man finds it’s the next day. His phone rests in his hand and when opened he finds it zoomed in on a picture of James’ meaty bicep. Milo rolls his eyes and tosses his phone aside before going to stand. Making it halfway up he grunts in pain as he only then discovers morning wood more pressing and turgid than he’s ever encountered. Falling back down he clutches at the pain in his crotch from his cock being forcibly yanked by his underwear. Hands now grasping it he gasps as he finds it filling them far more than it has any right to.

Well now, while they’re already down there he might as well have some fun right? After briefly struggling to get his waistband over his swollen package his mouth falls open in shock as he’s finally able to appraise the almost unrecognizable cock hanging from his crotch. It’s like none he’s seen before, not that he generally observes dicks of course. Far more impressive than he imagined a dick could be. His fingertips can scarcely meet his palm when he tries to grasp it, and as he begins rubbing it it feels leagues more sensitive than it has before now, as if nerve endings are multiplying. Looking to his awaiting phone he sees the photo of James and what’s her name as he begins masturbating outright.

Seeing a bulge in James’ strained pants he grunts as he returns to stare at his own suddenly substantial cock. More like him. The already thicker rod strains as he reflexively humps into his hand, forcing his grip wider as it expands to simply need more room. The new veins painting the length of his nascent ten inch dick surge higher up its length as he swears he can see them pulse and bulge with each racing heartbeat. Beneath his thrusting hands, bouncing as his hips continue to forcefully thrust with more strength than he has, his balls similarly grow heavier, larger as they send hormones flowing through him enough to metamorphosize and, more immediately, cause pre to stream and coat his fingers.

Milo leans his head back as he is bursting with a need for release greater than he can understand. He shifts his jaw as it twinges with the pleasure of growth, widening and strengthening into one fit for titan. Below his newly defined chin, his neck thickens and moans grow deeper as an Adam's apple bulges out of his throat. Hearing his voice echo deeper throughout his bedroom, his heady pleasure comes to a head as he is struck with the bizarre urge to lick the pre off his fingers. Before he’s able to acquire or express shock and disgust, his eyes blast open and he is again staring at the image of James, more like- and he blows his load.

The moment of release may as well have shut him down once more, pleasure overloads him like a flashbang as every inch of his body feels at once. Drool drips from his plumper lips as his mind is fried and his hips continue to thrust without any input or awareness, sending stains across his wall and splattering into his darker hair as it begins to pull shorter and tint darker. Eyebrows thicken and cover more of his forehead as his brow hangs lower over his eyes staining brown and growing duller.

His whole form tenses as he finally achieves release, staring at the image of his, uh, competition. Arms flex as his hands crack wider, fingers stretch longer, skin grows rougher. For the first time in his life definition appears on his arms, biceps and triceps compete for which can increase faster, which can catch more eyes, which can rival those alluring arms of James. Beneath shoulders packing on weight are pits that darken with curls now thicker, a deeper brown nearing black as the forest strives to prevent any light from breaking the canopy. Similarly they moisten with the masculine heady musk that they are perfectly designed to disseminate, powerful enough to allure any twink towards his dick, or uh, huh.

Milo moans as this seemingly intrusive thought makes itself at home in his morphing psyche. Barely returning to sentience enough to realize the stray gay thought, he arches his back and stretches as if he were waking up. Mindlessly he wipes the cum staining his larger hands on the new dark treasure trail as it itches and slowly inches up from pubes unshaved. Feeling the hint of an Adonis belt he sits up with a shock, the feeling of something he has long envied bringing back his awareness.

Despite the obvious differences it takes far too long for him to be aware of, to truly notice what has become of him. He struggles to make sense of the effort it takes to move his new larger limbs. He grabs at his new hair and sucks drool through his teeth as he tries to understand how it’s changed texture and color so totally, did he dye it and forget or what? The gears in his mind slowly turn as his fingers move to scratch an itch under his arms, struggling through the dank jungle of curls. Thoughtlessly he brings his sweat-wet fingers to his nose and grimaces. “Fuck man, I smell like an, uh, like a, unnh-” he moans quietly as he’s unable to even finish the sentence, instead an image of James forces its way to the front of his mind and two now-malnourished brain cells spark together and strain to form a thought.

“Oh fuck I’m turning into a imbe-, an uh imbekle? Ugh, an uh- a dumb jock.” Milo bites his lips and flexes an arm to try and assuage his nerves, to get his attention focused on anything but his anxieties. Fortunately to this end, seeing his bulging biceps he feels his larger cock begin to stir. Some semblance of rationality knows ceding to his wanting package is probably what led to this encroaching fog over his mind. His skin begins to prickle as all-around it grows more sensitive. Beyond these skin deep sensations it also seems as if darker hairs are beginning to spread out wherever his follicles will allow.

Seeing hair beginning to prickle his chest and blanket his legs his mind produces images of hairy men he has leered at through the years. His neck twitches as whatever dregs of the pathetic skirtchaser he once was rise up and try to combat his new predilections. He’s straight, he’s always been straight. Right? His mouth goes dry as he tries to remember ever having dated a woman in the past. Barring that, only just able to recall that something is happening to him, only just able to remember that he is transforming into some alien self, Milo tries to produce an image of what he used to look like. And he cannot.

His mouth falls open as it often does whenever he struggles to produce a thought, making it almost his default state. Mouth-breathing mouth ajar he fully experiences the thick air of his bedroom as it fills with his new musk. The room around him begins to dissolve and reform into surroundings that reinforce who he is now, that prove this is who he has always been. Clean pressed laundry dirty and shift into unwashed gym clothes that help cloud the room with his stink. Posters of whatever movies and video games he enjoys corrupt into images celebrating the impressive male form, all distinctly stained from the years of hanging on Milo’s bedroom walls. He hears clanking outside of his bedroom as bookshelves collapse and reform into weights heavier than he would be able to lift.

Milo stumbles to his larger feet and ignores the hefty weight of his balls and cock bobbing in the air as he drags himself out of his bedroom to find a mirror. He leaves sweaty footprints larger than any shoes he owns on the tile of the bathroom as he bumbles in. Leaning over the sink his lips quiver as he sees a razor clogged with hair darker than he feels he should have. Sooner than the doubts arrive they vacate as a thick, stubbled beard rapidly bursts onto his face. Looking up he smirks as he sees a thick mustache surges over his upper lip, looking just like the ones he appreciates, just like he has always been into. His eye twitches and he grunts as his hair retracts once more into something far more intentional and stylish. At the same time pecs suddenly bulge larger and hang lower as Milo leans heavier over the bathroom sink.

His eyes glaze over as complex thoughts once more become too elusive in the face of his rising lusts. Muscles bulge larger as his back and legs creak, stretching him taller as thighs and shoulders widen and continue putting on mass. Feet spread like fins on the floor as his hands widen and sweatily slide on the ceramic sink. His mouth continues to water as he inspects all these increasingly masculine changes and his cock continues to throb. Milo bites his lip as new sensations arise from his cock once more, this time the change is apparent as his foreskin regrows, making his cock look even thicker as its head grows hooded and he struggles not to immediately break into masturbation at the powerful image of his own seductive form.

Milo’s barely functioning mind struggles to argue for any reason to not just return to the immeasurable delights of gratifying his all-encompassing urges. He stays his hands for a moment before the greatest horror yet rears its head. A monologue begins in his mind that is not his own, that cannot be his own. Dull laughter echoes through his increasingly vacant mind as a voice even slower and deeper than that which sounds from his new vocal chords, “Yooo broo come onnnnn. Give up, give in. This is what you wanted, ‘s what we wanted huhuhuh.”

He feels a pressure in his balls as they almost churn with the otherworldly need that seemingly always flows through him. He can’t help but imagine the men he’s going to bed with his new endowment, how many cocks he’s going to take in his new powerful ass. Drool trickles from his lips through the dense black stubble that coats his face denser with each second, with each breath. Spit continues down the length of his more defined face before dripping onto weighty, similarly furred pecs. His heavier hands slowly creep towards the hardening cock standing tall and long from the jungle of pubes. Before he’s able to assist his thrusting hips however, his lusty haze is interrupted by his phone chiming. His mind immediately thinks it must be James which fills him with conflicting emotions of rage and giddiness. “Ohh bro maybe he’s inviting us over. It’s been toooo long since we fucked huhuh-”

Milo pointedly tries to ignore his hairier, bulkier reflection as he stumbles out of the bathroom to check his phone. Unfortunately he catches a glimpse which makes it all the more difficult to ignore the throbbing weight dripping, almost pouring, pre onto the floor. Despite it all he stands strong, quieting this other voice as it urgently tries to convince him to give in before he’s able to pick up his phone. In a final act of resistance, or perhaps impotence, he has the lofty idea of calling for help before his mind goes completely blank and, seeing the notification, he instinctually goes to his messages to find who texted him. It’s Juliet!

First his heart flutters before he’s absolutely confused at the sensation. She’s just his bestie? Weird. He shakes off whatever that was and gets on to reading the message, “heyy girlie- which of these do you want me to post? Oh ya and lmao, are you and james cool if I do the last one?” At the mention of James his pulse again races and there are butterflies in his stomach far more powerful than whatever bizarre feelings he had but moments ago. No time to dwell, Milo starts swiping through the images sent. They’re a photoset of their little group outing to a halloween party last week, the trio, Milo, James and Jules dressed up as a group, as X-men! Respectively dressed as Wolverine, Cyclops and Jean Grey.

He smirks as he starts chubbing up again thinking of how easily he was able to pass as the hairy beast. His eyes then return to see James’ bubble butt in trademark spandex, which only makes it harder to not lose control then and there, moaning as he imagines playing with that ass. Holding to whatever well of willpower remains within him Milo holds strong and keeps his hands above waist level. Finally he gets to the specific image Juliet mentioned, one of him and James messily making out on the dance floor. James yanks at the hairy Milo’s hair, visor half hanging off as Milo reciprocates by shoving his hand into James’ pants. Fuck that’s hot.

Without even touching his needy cock, without any pleading from the new voice in his head, without a single chance to hold back. Simply from seeing the steamy image of him and James, Milo’s mind is overrun with memories and desires of the new man he is. The man he ever was and always will be. And for the second time today, but not the last, he loses control. Cum splatters against his phone as his mind goes blank anew with rushing pleasure. Painting himself once more with his most-used utensil he laughs dumbly as he realizes how swiftly he just came. Almost with pathetic haste, though now he’s quite unfamiliar with any sense of shame. The voice that only just wormed its way into his head spills from his mouth as it fully and forevermore wrests control as the true Milo.

“Huhuhuh guess I should work on my hair trigger,” He grunts as he looks at his phone and texts back some variation of ‘girl that’s porn you can’t post that!!!’ he turns his mind where it goes more often than anywhere in his new life. He wonders what James is doing and immediately texts him. Waiting for a reply Milo heads off to the gym to get a pump in before presumably going to meet him, not worrying about cleaning up or covering his scent. The gym’s for smelling like a man right? He certainly wouldn’t mind if everyone else followed his lead huhuh. Milo bites his lip trying to ignore his hardening cock as he makes his way out of the apartment clad in too-tight, stained gym clothes.

Before he even makes it out the complex he gets a text from James and promptly changes course. Immediately Milo’s racing down the street to his lover’s apartment. Cock already snaking down his shorts and creating a stain at its nadir, Milo hopes he can keep his needy cock at bay until he makes it. Thinking of the alternative work out he’s to enjoy in bed with James, Milo struggles to not moan obscenely as he waddles as quickly as he can into the lobby of James’ building. Heart racing with excitement he can’t wait to see James in person. Jittery with nerves, it feels like he’s going to meet the man for the first time. Hah! Milo promptly ignores the idea and starts to get some stretching in before their session. Trying to practice mindfulness with a mind thicker than mud he quickly finds himself possessed with memories of their countless times fucking in the past. Easy enough as the pair have been doing so for years. Still nerves assail him as his cock continues to strain his shorts. As the elevator doors click open he smirks as he was able to make it this far without blowing his third load of the day. His cock throbs with anticipation for its release soon to come, and impatiently awaits each and every similar session to follow.

#male tf #mental change #straight to gay #male transformation #hair growth #muscle tf #jockification #dumber #reality change

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sirfrogsworth · 2 days ago

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Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.

So... yesterday was quite the day.

After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.

My to-do list...

Go to the doctor

Vote early

Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy

Return Amazon package to the UPS store

Get gasoline for my whip

Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free

Drop a check off for my lawn guy

Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office

It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.

So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.

As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.

Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.

When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.

So it's like this private/public turducken situation.

I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.

But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.

As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.

And a particular one caught my eye.

This is bullshit.

Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.

Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...

"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."

They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."

This is how their online flyer puts it...

It could also include a free puppy.

Or a zillion bucks.

Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.

It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.

The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.

It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.

His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.

The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.

Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.

Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.

I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.

Just one.

And she sucks.

Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.

Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...

So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"

At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.

And then she finishes her sentence...

"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."

Ah, dammit.

I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.

If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.

I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.

But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.

It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.

It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.

But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.

So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.

My biggest concern was time.

The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.

They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.

So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.

I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.

I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.

It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."

But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.

My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."

I get up and start walking to the end of the line.

Then I hear a voice yell out to me.

"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"

A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.

I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...

"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."

He suggested my idea!

Without me asking!

I felt like he read my mind or something.

Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?

"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."

And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."

The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.

So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.

That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.

And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.

I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.

And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.

As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.

I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.

But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.

My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.

I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."

They seemed confused by my joke.

"No problem, man. Happy to help."

I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...

I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."

As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.

I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.

It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.

Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.

My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!

And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.

Yep, that seems about right.

Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.

Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?

I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.

I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.

I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.

I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.

I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.

I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.

On my way out I noticed a miracle.

2 of the 4 doors were fixed!

I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.

And then... I drove home.

5 hours of errands.

I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.

The End

#long post

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witchofhimring · 2 days ago

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Being the daughter of Daemon Targaryen

Daemon x reader (platonic)

I will split this into four different parts depending on who the mother is (Laena, Rhae, Mysaria, Rhaenyra)

Your relationship with Daemon really depends on who your mother is. Although I think he would love his daughter regardless of who the mother is, your relationship will still differ depending on who she is.

Mysaria:

- As his first born you hold a special place in his heart. Daemon keeps you in a mansion with your mother. Despite your bastardy he still has you educated. And anyway, he planned to have you legitimated in time. Unlike with his other wives (except Rhea) there will be a battle between your parents on who has the most influence. Daemon will bring you up to be a true Valyrian. But Mysaria does not agree with everything he does and do the two will argue.

- ‘I will not have my daughter riding those beasts.’ Mysaria stood over Daemon. Although she was not ignorant as to the threat he could pose, Mysaria felt very strongly about her daughter riding a dragon. She had always been a careful woman. Ever since she was a little girl who endured her father’s abuse Mysaria had known how to survive. And when her daughter was born she swore you too would be safe. That meant, for Mysaria; No. Fucking. Dragon. Daemon sat hunched in his chair. He was tired but equally determined. ‘She is a Valyrian. Whatever the circumstances of her birth are.’ Standing in the doorway you watched nervously. You hated listening to your parents fight. Quietly, you slunk into the darkness.

- Unfortunately this will result in Daemon taking you from Mysaria once their relationship is over. This causes a lot of tension and your relationship with him will change. It is hard being away from your mother for so long. Daemon takes you with him wherever he goes. He will try to be more stationary for your benefit. And the word is "try". Life is both tough and fun. Constantly moving around made it hard to make long lasting friends. But Daemon will do fun things such as going to the market, dragon riding and buying items for any hobby you are into. Mysaria finds secret ways to contact you without Daemon's knowledge. You sort of lead a double life with both parents.

-Your mother's most recent letter was quickly slid under the pillow as your bedroom door opened. Your father stepped in holding a wooden box. Curiously you asked what was in the box. Daemon opened it and inside you found cloth and sewing needles. With a smile you took it and went through the materials. Daemon had a small smile on his face as his daughter rummaged through everything. He did not really understand your love of sewing but he was happy to provide the materials.

-You do get a dragon. Daemon lobbies hard for you to have a dragon and for a while Viserys says no. Not because he doesn't think you deserve one but because of your status (this is before you are legitimated). This changes when Rhaenyra had her first born and Daemon will snidely make remarks when Viserys brings up your bastardy. Eventually Viserys relents. Your dragon is called Saephrin, a thin green scaled creature who is called the Sky Snake. He is very fast an nimble. You spent a lot of time in the cave and riding Saephrin. Daemon likes to ride beside you on nice day. The dragons do keep some distance between each other since Caraxes can get a bit snappy around the younger dragon. These outings usually end in picnics and going to far off places.

-Higher and into the sky you climbed. Wind whistled past your ears, wind whipping hair around. Just behind you was Daemon on Caraxes. Above the clouds you flew looking at the ground bellow. The house you lived in had become a simple blip on the ground. The ache in your thighs felt good. Riding on dragon back brought you more satisfaction than anything else. Showing off you father burst up from a sea of clouds, sending white mist everywhere. Despite your vision being temporarily obscured you were not scared. Daemon was an expert dragon rider, you were in no danger. Your dragon let out a wiry cry and you dove. Leaning back you could see the ground bellow you coming nearer. You looked up to find Daemon still circling above. Saephrin then extended his wings and you were shot back into the air. With a whoop of laughter you went to meet him in the sky.

Rhea:

-Daemon would not allow Rhea to raise you. Despite him belief in Valyrian supremacy you are still a Targaryen. He will use his position as a prince to limit contact between Rhea and yourself. This leads to some tension between Daemon and Viserys, who feels your place is in Runestone. In this scenario Daemon is in Runestone more often. There is a back and forth between who has more influence. Daemon will try to distance you from Andal influences and Rhea vise vera. This leaves you feeling constantly torn.

-Their voices echoed down the hall to where you sat alone. By all rights you should be in bed already. If anyone were to find you out there would be trouble. One would think that years of this would harden you to your parents constant fights. 'My daughter will not be taking part in your filthy Valyrian traditions! I am only glad that she has no brother for you to force her to fuck.' You could almost see your fathers reaction in your mind. There was the sound of a physical altercation and you buried yourself deeper into the shadows. You were not sure when the fight ended. Only that your father slunk through the hall and you hardly dared to breath as he walked past. Once you were sure both parents were gone you wandered the halls.

-A dragon egg is given to you by Daemon upon birth. The pearl coloured egg hatches and a light pink dragon is born, named Willow. You grew close to the dragon and liked to bring her into your playroom. Whenever she was separated from you a tantrum resumed on both ends. You could not live without Willow. Your father would becomes a less present figure om your life. For a while life grew slightly easier. At least no parents were fighting. And so a quiet existence descended. Your mother taught you to hunt and command a falcon. By her hand you sat at council meetings. One day you would become Lady of Runestone and command these people. Unlike many other women, even high born ones, you would be permitted to wield power without the say so of a man. When your mother died Daemon came back for you. He tried to take you from Runestone but the lords protested. Swallowing his rage, Daemon would fly between his residences and Runestone. He was more involved now. because of your position Daemon would teach you battle strategy and swordplay. Daemon was determined to make you a proper ruling lady.

-'Block!' Daemon's sword came down from ahead and you only just blocked it. He did not relent with each blow, causing witnesses to shoot mistrusting looks. While Daemon was not being gentle there was a method to this. The world was not kind to women especially women who took the places men more often occupied. You must become strong enough to defend your own. And Daemon had a feeling war was not too far off. Daemon felt Rhea had been a poor teacher. He would not have some docile Andal lily for a daughter. Gods damn it you were a Targaryen. Each strike was used to test your ability. Eventually the sword was knocked aside. 'Dead.' Daemon pointed the sword to your chest. The he heaved you to your feet. 'Good.' Daemon was not one to hand out compliments. But you had done very well and made much progress. You gave him a small smile.

-Once you are older Daemon will have you visit him on Dragonstone. You never knew your first step mother Laena as you were too young to fly to Pentos on dragon back. But by the time he married Rhaenyra you were older and Dragonstone was closer. You would fly in on Willow and spend time with your father and the new editions. Your relationship with Rhaenyra is alright. She had always wanted a daughter but she remembers you are the daughter of Rhea and that always unsettles Rhaenyra. You like Baela and Rhaena well enough. Daemon is happy when you arrive. Even if he has a hard time showing it. As the eldest you are given the most responsibility. He has you informed of the comings and goings of political situation, and you help the Blacks keep ties with house Arryn. He places a lot of trust in you.

-You had come in late that night on Willow. Inwardly groaning with exhaustion you climbed off the dragon and staggered towards the castle. Your father was there to greet you. Nodding in acknowledgment Daemon turned and beckoned you inside. This might have been considered cold for a father, but from Daemon this was "warm", in his way. You followed him inside and he allowed you to quickly wipe down, change and eat. By the fire both of you sat till Daemon deemed you settled in enough. 'How are you unruly men?' He had never taken to the people of Runestone. 'They are just fine father.' You did not like your father talking like this. It made you feel unfaithful to those you lead. 'Good, and the Arryns?' He said this with less skepticism. 'I think if it comes to war they will side with us. Lady Jeyne Arryn was no love for Otto Hightower or his ilk.' 'Good.' He grunted. For a while the pair of you talked of these things until Daemon sent you to bed. As you got up he patted you on you shoulder. 'You've done well.'

Laena:

-You are born a year after Baela and Rhaena in Pentos. At the time Laena and Daemon were traveling Essos so you did not have a permeant home. Despite not living in Westeros at the time you were still a Targaryen, one of only a few. There were already discussions about your future. Daemon preferred for his family to remain in Westeros, perhaps you could marry a Pentoshi prince. Laena on the other hand would rather you marry into Westerosi aristocracy. You, along with your two sisters are brought up to be noblewomen like your mother. On the other hand Daemon is interested in teaching Valyrian ancestry and swordplay. His interest will hinge on how much you are like him. This does not mean Daemon does not love his children. But he does show more interest in his children who are dragon riders. Daemon is largely unaware of the effect it had on his children (i.e. Rhaena). Like your sisters you will get a dragon egg. It eventually hatches, but it takes a while.

-Daemon did not normally feel uncomfortable, especially around his own children. Last week his youngest daughter's dragon had hatched, a small grey think with spikey scales running up its neck. He had been undeniably proud of his daughter. Three years had passed since his now ten year old daughter had received her egg as name-day present from Viserys. Daemon had lost hope that her dragon would hatch. he would check if the two dragon eggs resting in the fireplace had hatched. Now only Rhaena's egg rested there. Y/n was sitting alone by the see with Kaeros on her lap. One day that dragon not be small like a kitten, but larger than any one of them. Daemon took a seat beside her. 'Your dragon hatched.' He felt foolish for posing such a silly question. Y/n would be a dragon rider and carry out the Targaryen traditions. Y/n shrugged her shoulders but said nothing. For a while they awkwardly sat beside one another till Y/n headed in.

-After Laena's death the family headed back to Westeros. Daemon married Rhaenyra and Dragonstone became home. It was very different from the warmth and vibrancy of Pentos. During this time Daemon and you became closer, although some distance remained. Because you were a little older the subject of marriage became prevalent. Daemon is very picky about who your future husband will be, only a Valyrian will be accepted. When your half brothers are born you become closer to Daemon. Sometimes the two of you will play with the children in their nursery.

-Baby Aegon totted on his legs towards you .A few spaces away at your father, newborn Viserys on his lap. 'The babies are staying with us, right?' Daemon looked up from his youngest. 'Of course.' 'Oh. I just thought that you might send them to be fostered with their future betrotheds family.' Daemon looked at you confused. 'What gave you that impression?' Shrugging, you replied; 'Just what your doing with me.' Daemon only looked more bewildered. 'I...we have no intentions sending you away.' Daemon had no idea why you had this idea. What he did not understand was the empty pit widening in your soul. This feeling of loneliness that threatened to devour you. All your life you had felt like an extension of the Targaryen name. You did not realize how deeply your father loved you. While the gap had somewhat lessened over time there were still things left unsaid. Then Daemon, for reasons you did not know, he set Viserys in his crib and got up. In a moment he was by your side. In an unexpected motion Daemon brought you into a hug. Not merely one in greeting or goodbye, but along, warm one. Gently you rested your head on his shoulder.

-As war broke over Westeros the dynamic between Daemon and yourself changed. You were his youngest daughter, too young to fight. He may have pride but even Daemon balked at the idea of sending his youngest, untested daughter into war. In the past few years your relationship improved greatly. The two of you had grown closer. But was would rip the two of you apart, forever.

-It was already unsettling enough to send Baela out to war, and have Rhaena so far away. You were to remain at Dragonstone. Not completely out of loop but not at the front like Baela. It made you taste bitterness. Why could he not see you were ready! Now was the time you should be tested. Your father had gone on and on about Targaryen pride. But here you were as cupbearer. Of course he preferred Baela to you, to Rhaena. As your father got ready to take Harrenhal you were hiding by a window, too angry to speak. At these moments you felt no more than a sulky child. 'Y/n.' Startled, you got up to see your father, fully plated in armor, coming forward. 'I'm heading out.' 'I know.' You replied. Standing there you did not know whether to say goodbye. Silently you feared for him. War was an ugly thing. 'I will send for you when the time comes.' This surprised you. 'Really?' Daemon let the ghost of a smile come across his lips. 'You are my daughter. A Targaryen. You belong with us.' Tears welled up in your eyes. Deep down you think; 'One day I will tell father I love him.' This was the last time you would see your father.

Rhaenyra: (au where Rhaenyra wins the war, Visenya survives and is your older sister)

-Daemon felt rather old when you came into the world. You had been born well after they thought Rhaenyra past childbirth. He was not sure how he felt about this newest edition. Having another child was no bad thing, but he just felt too hold. Although Daemon was still in good health he was no longer a young man. His joints had started to ache from long years of battle. This did mean he spent lots of time with you. He watched his youngest roll around in her cradle. There was some joy to be found in reading to you. This continued as you grew, learning stories of your family and Old Valyria. Soehow this gave Daemon some peace, and the pair of you grew close.

-Daemon was no stranger to fatherhood. As a father of three girls and two boys (not including Rhaenyra's children) this new baby was no surprise. What had struck Daemon was how very old he was. Now in his fifties Daemon found it a bit astounding to be this old and a father. If fact Daemon never though he would reach such an age. Men as reckless as the King Consort rarely lived to see such an age. Yet here we was, older and with knees that already started to ache. In the cradle was his youngest and likely last child. Y/n was fast asleep, wrapped up in a blanket. Daemon was not a sort man, and perhaps not the warmest father. But he did love his children. One finger reached in and the baby's hand shot out. With all her little might Y/n grasped him. her wide eyes met his and she gave him a toothless grin. Something warm stirred in daemon's head. "I'm becoming a sort old fool.' Daemon thought.

-Daemon read by the fire as you dozed off in bed. This was your favourite part of the day. When night had fallen and you listened to his soft voice lull you to sleep. Tonight he read of Queen Rhaenys, second wife to King Aegon. Even though your mother and sister preferred Queen Visenya you always admired Rhaenys's love for the arts. Out of all her siblings Rhaenys loved her dragon Meraxes best. You had named your own dragon after hers. Mother has tried to talk you out of it but to no avail. Your father continued to read stories of Targaryens long gone.

-'This one." You demanded. It was the end of the day and Daemon had come up to read. Already you were in bed with a book one your lap. Daemon was pleased to see it was about House Targaryens, the best house in all the realm (totally not a biased opinion). Sitting down Daemon picked up the book and flipped to chapter one. 'Not there.' You passed several chapters until landing on the one titled "Queen Rhaenys". Aegon the Conqueror's second wife had never truly captured his attention, not that he had anything against her. But you were his little girl and Daemon was more willing to capitulate in his older ager.

-Despite his advanced age Daemon will expect you to be well educated. The best teachers will be found. You will learn history, Valyrian, astronomy, philosophy, writing and much more. He sees no reason for you being female as a reason a child of his should not be well read. You share classes with Visenya and sometimes Viserys and Aegon. Sometimes Daemon will ask you to show him what you have learned. His interests mainly lye in Valyrian history so he will ask you to show him what it is you have learned. When all his daily duties are finished Daemon will sometimes listen to you talk about everything you have read that day. Even if it is not things he is particularly interested in. As he gets older Daemon becomes more sentimental and focuses more on his family.

-A quiet afternoon was upon Kings Landing. Daemon had just gotten out of a long meeting and was glad for it. he was sore all over from sitting so long and walked, alone, to take the edge off. His walking did have an aim. Y/n, his youngest, would be out of the schoolroom by now. Loneliness was not a feeling Daemon was well acquainted with. But with Rhaenyra gone to the North and Visenya being a ward of House Baratheon, Daemon found himself lacking family members. Jacaerys and Baela had gone on tour in the West, Rhaena gone to see her Arryn friends. The other children were being wards elsewhere. daemon finally arrived outside the schoolroom. he remembered days when he and Viserys were sometimes tutored here. Just as he arrived Y/n burst out. 'Daddy!' Y/n gave her father a great hug. Daemon ruffled her messy hair before inquiring what she had learned today. As she chattered away they found themselves in the courtyard. Under the Weirwood they sat together. Sunlight beat down upon them, Daemon finally relaxed.

#daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daughter reader #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x reader imagine #hotd imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon

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crazyvik97rpg · 2 days ago

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William was the best, as always - it made Sebastian feel a lot better that he promised to stay longer today, and that they could even facetime later, so Sebastian could see their kitties. He would even come visit him again tomorrow! Sebastian was very happy about that- he honestly dreaded the hospital already, he just wanted to go home. Well, sadly he wouldn’t be able to until the end of the week…

„That sounds great…yea, let’s facetime“, he hummed and smiled softly at him, squeezed his hand right back, „And I know you say I can text you anytime but…you need your sleep too, love. I can’t just keep pestering you. Even if I want to“, he smirked a little, admiring him.

William then asked him how much he should tell - the soft lips on his cheek felt so wonderful, it made Sebastian forget the difficult aftermath of surgery immediately, heh. Even better would be snuggling in his arms - impossible right now, sadly.

„Well, as for our friends…ah…“, Sebastian sighed, really not too fond thinking about it, „…No. I can’t just keep lying to them any longer. They’re our friends. We trusted them with our secret, so…we can’t just keep this from them, what if they find out through someone else? Personally, if that was me I would feel betrayed…“, Sebastian pondered out loud a little, „Tell them all they want to know. That I had surgery for skin cancer, that I got the diagnosis like a month ago. …All that. And…that I didn’t want to say anything because…I still had to deal with it all myself, mentally. I just wanted to…have normalcy just a little bit longer is all…“

He was sure that was the smarter thing to do either way.

„Anyway…so then…you come visit me again tomorrow? But don’t stress yourself, okay? I won’t run away either way…“, he grinned a little, „…But…I already know I will be bored to death. I brought some books and stuff with me but…feels weird. Will feel even weirder once I‘m back home“, he sighed and pouted a little. He honestly hoped Doctor Cole would check on him soon, so he could be moved back to his hospital room. There they had at least a nice view out the window.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes.

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times.

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?”

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them.

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

#for i have sinned

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 1 day ago

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SKZ being whipped for you

Genre: lots of fluff

A/N: First SKZ reaction!

Chan

He expected this. He expected to be mercilessly made fun of by his members the moment he admitted being into someone. Still, it doesn’t keep him from flushing bright red and finding the nearest hiding spot. And oh man, if they do this while you’re in earshot, he’ll wish the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Be nice and reassure him, and maybe even defend him against his group members for good measure.

Minho

Deny, deny, deny. You could not be dating at all yet or be together for a decade and he’ll still brush off any commentary about how he acts around you. It might even be so convincing that you sometimes forget all the little things that he does for you. But his members won’t. They’ll rage about the privileges he gives you. He’ll roll his eyes and say, “Are you kidding? I did that for you yesterday.” Sometimes you think it’s just so he can watch his friend’s head explode, because he most certainly did Not do that thing yesterday. In quiet, private moments though, he’ll remind you that you do, in fact, have all of the privileges.

Changbin

Unashamed. Did you think he’d be embarrassed by how into you he is? Absolutely not. Couldn’t fathom it. At least - not when his members comment on it. He’ll say, “Duh. Of course, I am. Have you seen them? Have you met them?” It’s a brag for him in a lot of ways. However! If you tease him about it, he might get a little shy in the early stages of whatever is going on with you two. Expect that to wear off, because one day soon he’ll have no shame about nodding his head and agreeing with your observations with a smile.

Hyunjin

This might be subtle, but it will be the little things. Like, your text always gets opened and responded to promptly, even if he should really be doing something else. Or your his first call when he has a rare day off and wants to do something. Or heaven forbid someone take a peek at his sketch book because it often features you. He might be a little secretive about his feelings, if only to spare himself the teasing he might get if he makes it too obvious. But if you call him out on it, he’ll freely admit it.

Jisung

Does NOT know what to do with himself. Totally overwhelmed by it sometimes. It’s painfully obvious even to you, because you can just be existing in the same room and he’s fixated on you with heart eyes. I can actually see this as being something that he might be kind of self-conscious about if only because he wants to be more poised or more thoughtful in expressing his feelings. Match. His. Energy! Let them make fun of both of you!!!

Felix

Sickeningly, tooth-rottingly sweet. I don’t know that many of his members would really even tease him very much about it because it’s just too heart-warming. When he’s whipped, it’s just too easy to get swept up in the romance if you’re on the receiving end of it. Honestly, they might beg him to tone it down a little - which he will not. Not as long as you like it, anyway.

Seungmin

You’ll get partner privileges here too, but that might be the only sign. And he will not give you those partner privileges easily. You ask him to hang out and he says, “You can’t stand to be away from me,” like he wasn’t rushing to put on shoes. You call and he answers in a split second, but asks what you could possibly want because he’s busy (even though he is already thinking of a way to get out of whatever he's doing). He buys coffee or a snack and when you thank him, he’ll say, “Yeah, yeah, you’re so needy”. He might even act so put out that he’ll get scolded by some of his members to be nicer. But the thing is… it’s all a ruse!!! Agree when he says these things to throw him off his game!!

Jeongin

CASUAL. Yeah, he’s into you. Yeah, he wants to spend all his time with you. Yeah, he bought you a little gift again for the third time this week. Your point? It sucks allllll of the fun out of teasing him, the baby of the group, because he’s so unbothered and he’ll continue to do what he wants. It’ll actually make YOU whipped if only because of how unabashedly he admits it.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #felix #han jisung #seungmin #i.n.

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stellamancer · 2 days ago

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flips and shit (katsuki bakugou + reader)

notes: more stuff inspired by things that happen in my kitchen. name me me attempting to flip scallion pancakes. it's been a while since i had one of these actually. part of the kitchen adventures series. mostly unedited.

wc: 1k

contains: gn!reader, pro-hero bkg (not actually mentioned) neighbor au.

You have never asked Bakugou to teach you anything before.

Mostly because there’s never really been anything you’ve actually wanted to learn. Despite his griping, you think you're honestly a pretty decent cook. Sure, you may prefer taking convenient shortcuts over doing things the proper way, but it's not like it's the worst thing in the world. Still, Bakugou’s taken it upon himself to teach you in order to prevent you from committing what he considers to be kitchen atrocities. Admittedly, your knife skills have improved and you don’t hear your fire alarm going off as often (which you suspect is more due to Bakugou changing the whole thing himself in a fit when it dared to screech as he was broiling some fish during one lesson), but there are some things, like your instant miso soup, that Katsuki Bakugou can pry out of your cold dead hands.

“Hah?” Bakugou whips his head around to face you, his expression twisted into his own special brand of confusion, eyes narrowed in an aggressive form of bewilderment.

“Can you teach me how to flip things in a frying pan?” you repeat slowly.

His mouth twists, “Why? Usin’ a spatula not good enough for you?”

“It's not that,” you say. Bakugou shoots you an expectant look and you clear your throat as you elaborate. “It just looks cool is all.”

“Y’got bigger things to worry about than lookin’ cool in the kitchen. Why’re y’worrying about that kinda crap anyway? Got someone to impress?”

Grumbling, you say “Not really, but since you mention it, it would be nice if I were able to impress my smartass neighbor even just once.”

Bakugou snorts. “Maybe y’d impress me if you finally threw away those damn instant soup packets! I taught you how to make it yourself! Why do you still have them?”

You roll your eyes. What about cold dead hands does he not understand? You try to get the subject back on track. “Are you teaching me or not?”

He stares at you for a minute before shuffling past you into the kitchen proper. “Fine. Even an idiot like you should be able to do this much.”

Feeling smug, despite his insult, you follow after him, watching as he pulls out your frying pan from a cabinet. He’s come over enough that he’s familiar with the layout of your kitchen, no longer needing to ask you where you keep this or that. It’s nice in a way, though you’re not entirely sure why. That said, you can’t help but be confused when he grabs one of your kitchen sponges and tosses it in the pan. Is he—

“Bakugou, I’ve got some frozen scall—”

“We’re using this first!” he barks at you. “No point in risking you flipping perfectly good food onto the kitchen floor!”

You wince. It wouldn’t be that bad. You’ve tried flipping things before and the worst that’s happened is that the pancake flipped over on itself.

Bakugou moves over to the stovetop, his arms gripping the frying pan’s handle. You stare at his arm— he’s in a black t-shirt today. The sleeves are loose, but you can see the defined shape of his arm muscles, from the near scandalous peek of his biceps down to the taut lines of his forearms. Maybe you’re staring a little too much, though, because you don’t quite catch what he says as he flicks his wrist.

“What was that?” you ask. You could try to wing it and guess what his instructions were based on observation alone, but if you get it absolutely wrong he’ll scold you.

Though, since it’s Bakugou, he’s going to scold you either way. “Are you even listening?”

Now you are. “Yeah?”

He eyes you suspiciously, but doesn’t mention if he noticed you oogling his arms. “So all you gotta do is just flick your wrist, but y’gotta do it like you’re shoveling dirt or some shit.” He does the motion a few times to show you, and you think you get it. It’s kind of like a flick and scoop. Watching him do it makes it seem easy, but you’ve learned that Bakugou makes a lot of things look effortless.

He flips the sponge a few times before handing you the frying pan. The handle is still warm. Gruffly, he says, “Now you try.”

“Okay.” You try to mimic his motion, and the sponge goes up… but just falls back onto the pan without flipping over.

“Weak,” Bakugou scoffs and you scowl at him, but he ignores you as he continues. “Try again, idiot, but put more force into it.”

“Okay…” You do as he says and the sponge flies higher… before flopping onto the floor. Too much force.

“Not everything’s gonna weigh the same,” Bakugou says. “Y’gonna have to judge how much force to use for yourself.”

Right. You reach down and grab the sponge to put it back in the pan. It’s pretty light. You flick your wrist a couple times, not so much to flip but to get a feel of how much force you’ll need to flip it. When you think you’ve got an idea, you move your wrist and swoop your arm a little, sending the sponge up. It flips over and while it does catch the edge of the pan it still manages to land in it.

Grinning widely, you turn to Bakugou. “Look! I did it!”

“Barely,” he says and while his mouth is curved down in a frown, there’s a sparkle in his eyes that makes it look like he’s trying to fight off a smile.. “Do it again! Make sure the flip is perfect this time!”

“Okay!” You try again and after a couple times you manage to flip the sponge perfectly. When you look at Bakugou for approval, he gives you the ghost of a smirk back, this time looking almost legitimately pleased.

But it only lasts for a moment before he switches out the sponge for a slightly heavier package of instant ramen.

“Time for the next level, nerd,” he says, his eyes glinting dangerously. “We’re not stopping til every flip is perfect!”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x you #mha x reader #nikuniku fics #OKAY NOW BACK TO DEKU

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mirx-xko-offical · 2 days ago

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giggling and kicking my feet about this Scenario!!

Yuu /reader say "You have beautiful eyes" and the character say "your kid may have the same"

Then a silent quiet....

Frankly, I find Leona/twin /Malleus and Lilia suitable for this scenario.

I’m going to cry- I had all of these already written down but then it never saved 😭 Anyways uhm, this is why you make sure that you save everything and don’t rely on autosave 🫶

as per usual, not proofread and probably won’t be for a while! This contains LEONA and MALLEUS! LILIA and maybe someone else will be in part 2 (open to ideas!) mainly because I can not think of any scenario for him right now!

prompt: ‘Your eyes are beautiful.’ ‘Well, your children could always have them.’ (I love this sm 💕)

The autumn breeze came across the both of you, yet not being bothersome but rather comforting. LEONA couldn’t deny that times like these, when the air was cooler compared to the autumn nights where he had lived, was rather a nice change. He had dragged asked you to join him out here on one of these colder evenings mainly because he knew that you’d both enjoy it. Your back pressed up against the rather uncomfortable tree as he laid his head on your lap, humming almost like a low purr as your hand played with his hair (although my mind imagines it to be really greasy, even if it’s probably not😭✋). Looking upwards at the sky as it faded to a blank and purple. You had expected him to already be sleeping since he had stopped making a sound. Looking down you find him to just be admiring you, your cheeks reddening slightly at the fondness in his usual piercing gaze that always seems to calm when they laid upon you. LEONA’s eyes had never looked as mesmerizing as before, the moonlight almost hitting them perfectly. ‘You know, your eyes are beautiful.’ You said softly, hand still running through his hair. LEONA lets out a low chuckle before giving you a teasing glare. ‘Careful herbivore, your children might just end up having them one day.’ He said that to get a reaction out of you originally but now that he thinks about it, LEONA wouldn’t mind sharing his eye color with your kids.

As you walked out into the cool evening breeze, grabbing your coat from the stands before closing the dormitory’s door behind you. You turn around to see someone you’ve grown ever so close with, MALLEUS. You smiled as you walked down the long and, rather ruff, walkways to the gate which was always left open since people would find ways to enter anyhow. Your eyes landed on him as she stood there patiently for you. Once you made it down to him and greeted him with a soft ‘Hello.’ you started your way around the campus, something you and MALLEUS loved doing. During the walk you decided to intertwine your hands with his, causing him to look down at you with surprise. ‘Your eyes are beautiful.’ you hummed without little shame, looking up at him. ‘Well, Child of man, perhaps our children could have them one day.’ You knew MALLEUS meant it which didn’t help the fact that your face was growing a red hue. ‘I definitely wouldn’t mind it if they did.’ You said softly as you both continued your walk.

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lilia-calderus-pet-goat · 2 days ago

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Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 1: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 2, here.)

(part 3, here.)

Agatha learned spanish for Rio, obviously—and spices up her dialogue with Spanish phrases out of habit. I assume she also knows other languages, being alive for as long as she has.

But I'd also like to think that language-learning gradually becomes something they all surprise each other with. And this is definitely super self-indulgent, because I'm always ecstatic when my native English-speaker friends are interested in learning my language.

For example, I definitely think Billy would ask Alice to teach him korean—and she'd be really excited for that. Not to mention, I feel like Billy just has the vibe of someone who'd be interested in learning different languages. (and korean in particular I think he'd definitely find interesting.)

I also definitely think Jen would try learning Sicilian for Lilia, considering the effort she makes to understand her and keep her comfortable towards the end. Lilia would be so moved, because she probably hasn't spoken to anyone in her mother-tongue in centuries. Like, it's literally considered an endanged language. (“Currently considered a “vulnerable” language by UNESCO, Sicilian faces increasing pressure from standard Italian, though it remains stronger than nearly all other Italian language varieties.”)

Mrs. Davis loves making food for all of them, always trying to diversify her cooking to suit their appetites, their cultures, the things each of them can eat, etc. It's a lot, but she doesn't mind!! She's a grandma!! She loves feeding people—and she missed having someone to cook for.

She grows her greens all by herself, too. Rio occasionally helps her with weeding and stuff. Mrs. Davis is freaked out by her rancid vibes at first, but ends up saying she's a “very sweet girl,” to which everyone responds by staring at her horrified.

Mrs. Davis would also definitely make a chore chart for everyone, but it never works out for a NUMBER of reasons.

First or all, Agatha always skips her turn with cleaning, saying that “she forgot.” She knows that either Billy or Sharon will just take care of it anyways. (Jen refuses to do any of Agatha's chores. “She can either do it by herself or drown in her own garbage-”)

Lilia always gets distracted and leaves her chores unfinished. She can only ever remember laundry, for some reason—she does everyone's laundry. But other than that, jeez. My girl is messy and that's okay. She has her very own unique way of finding where she puts her stuff, but others would merely call it chaos. Jen always picks up after her—and Lilia always huffs and puffs about how, “well now I can't find anything!”

Alice is the sort of person who accidentally creates messes everywhere, then stuffs everything wherever she finds. In drawers, under beds, you name it. Very, “out of sight, out of mind.” Like, she probably has “a chair” where she throws all her clothes.

Billy is very responsible, always abiding to the chore chart and oftentimes doing Agatha's chores too.

Jen is a total neat freak. She wants everything to be organised and under control—and she needs everything to smell nice.

She always makes the others scented candles. Agatha claims they're “useless garbage,” but uses them anyways.

Jen is also the one who usually keeps track of the bills and expenses, since she earns the most through her, “real job.”

Lilia is the sort of person to get lost in the mall, or even just the super-market. Alice has needed to look for her more than once.

Agatha loves crushing Jen's videos by appearing in the background and doing whatever bullshit she feels like.

Alice and Billy are everyone's mediators. Whenever someone gets in an argument, they're the ones who force them to work it out.

Alice is very protective of Sharon and Lilia, because she has mommy issues. Agatha has the opposite sort of mommy issues—but Sharon and Lilia treat them both like they're their kids.

The first time Billy brought Eddie to meet his coven, they literally put him through trials to decide whether he's worthy to date their son. Eddie is surprised he's been coven-approved.

“These women are insane, Billy—but then again, so am I for sticking around anyways.”

Eddie is very tired. His favourite coven members are Jen and Alice, who he considers the most normal. I REALLY think he'd fuck with Jen, because they're both so done with everyone else.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agathario #jennifer kale #lilia calderu #billy maximoff #alice wu gulliver #sharon davis #agatha x rio #agatha all along headcanons #headcanons

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blackcherryflower · 3 days ago

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Man, I don't even post opinions about shows and movies like The Bear, but this really pissed me off! I like Matty Matheson, and I was watching some interviews about his new book and at one point he says that Syd has no formal training... excuse!... no formal training!!! What do you mean!!!

Here's the link for who wants to see the whole thing

He implies that she only worked at UPS!? 3 seasons and that's the impression he has of her?! Did he forgot about that?:

I hope they didn't erase her story and that Matty, even though he's a nice guy, doesn't have any part in writing the show. This is the second time I've seen him talking about the characters (I think it was with Drew Barrymore that he said that the idea for the Faks to go talk to Claire at the hospital was his)... I thought this last season was pretty bad for Syd's character development (and the second one too, to be honest). I like her and I feel like there's a lot of cool stuff to know about her but they don't show it (and now with this, maybe they've even forgotten or left it aside). It seems like they don't give us a chance to get to know her and see her grow on her own, her story is always very connected to Carmy, but according to everyone on the show they won't be a couple...but they also don't know how to be friends...or business partners, they live on crumbs, few conversations and unspoken words. While he lives his life, her character is stuck in this limbo without being able to develop, without having important scenes (especially after they changed Ayo to lead actress in the 2nd season for the awards, I thought they would write scenes that would help her. It is not strange to expect more from the main characters right?! Richie had it! We know a lot about him!) I also saw an interview with Joanna Calo (Director, Writer and Producer in the show) where she said that the idea of locking Carmy in the freezer was just to give Syd a chance to shine and run the kitchen, but in the end, the way they filmed and edited, angles and everything, it seemed like it was all about Rich, and the audience understood that he was the one who saved the day, right?! like, come on! nobody saw it coming?

Anyway, just a rant because I realy like Ayo and I had hope for her character in the 2nd season and we only got hints about her life...so there was that hope for the 3rd...and nothing...and now this. It is frustrating, ngl!

#sydney adamu #the bear #ayo edebiri #matty matheson #syd adamu

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optimisticmosquito · 13 hours ago

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What if Shen Yuan was transmigrated into Shang Yuan, youngest son in the merchant Shang family and Shang Qinghua's little brother.

At first Shang Qinghua doesn't put much thought into it. He never did write much of a backstory for the other peak lords, so it makes sense the world has kind of just, written itself? Shang Yuan is several years younger anyways (I'm thinking 7-10 years) so it's not like he has a lot in common with him either. Shang Qinghua even joined CQM when he was barely out of toddlerhood. Shang Qinghua was fully prepared to just slowly fade out of sight and mind in his new family, just like he had in his old one.

Except this kid just really hates his guts? He gets letters regularly from his family, telling him how a-Yuan has been asking about him. But every time he visits the brat just shouts and kicks him around. All out of sight of their parents so he can't even go and complain to them! In their eyes Shang Yuan is their perfect little angel.

Honestly, Shang Qinghua isn't even that surprised the original goods turned into a villain if this was how he grew up. And oops, did he say that out loud? Shang Qinghua peeks down at the rigid brat he's holding under his arm in an attempt to stop him from trying to beat him up. With big eyes the kid turns his head up and whispers "you're a transmigrator too?".

From that day on Shang Qinghua can't help but feel a little bit less lonely, and maybe even a little happy. Who would have thought his number 1 anti fan would transmigrate into his didi! They start writing letters, both complaining about the system, and Shang Qinghua about the sect and his martial siblings. When he starts working for Mobei-jun he tells Shang Yuan everything about it. He even has a reason to go back and visit his family!

Shang Qinhua quickly accepts his responsibility as gege. Helping (or trying to) his little didi grow up to a nice young man and giving tips when Shang Yuan starts cultivating as well. And despite Yuan-di's tsundere behavior, Shang Qinghua knows he has his back as well.

In his own badly written stallion novel, Shang Qinghua finally finds the family he didn't have in the real world.

Now as for pairings. Bingyuan would be hilarious just because I want Shang Qinghua to ask, with a shit eating grin, how long Shang Yuan has been coveting his own nephew. And then for Shang Yuan to try and beat the shit out of him for it.

Jiuyuan would also be an interesting pairing (it can always be a jiuyuan if you're brave enough). Shang Qinghua knows his scum villain is misunderstood and not as bad as the book and rumors portrays him to be. But also he knows Shen Jiu is at least a dozen traumas in a trenchcoat. Does it really have to be his didi helping Shen Jiu deal with all of that? Sure Shang Yuan doesn't seem to mind, but Shang Qinghua also knows his didi makes some really stupid choices if you take your eyes off him. But also he's too much of a coward to say anything to Shen Jiu's face.

Hm, better to keep an eye on that from a distance.

#it would also be hilarious if SQH took a look at his scum villain one day and went:#“hm. you know who'd be just perfect for you?”#“My little brother! Let me set you two up on a date.”#SJ would agree to it just to get his martial siblings shut up fully intent on making SQHs brat brother cry as revenge #only to get oddly fascinated with this young man who is the opposite of his sleazy coward of a brother #spitting 10 facts about beasts a minute #while also tearing every popular novel apart verbally #it's like a carriage crash and SJ can't take his eyes away #svsss #scum villain's self saving system #shang qinghua #shen yuan #shang yuan au #shen jiu #luo binghe

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thrashkink-coven · 13 hours ago

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I had a very long conversation with Lord Lucifer about this after I had a debate with a friend over the ethics of ai. My position was that ai is just another poorly handled tool that we will inevitably learn to legislate and get used to. I believed that using ai for harmless stuff was neither here nor there. She believed that ai was a mistake and that anyone who values intellectualism or art should never use it.

My opinion has changed drastically. Ai is not a tool. While it may be nice to think that you’re not doing any harm by asking chatgpt a simple question, the amount of pollution that a single prompt produces is greater than boiling a whole kettle of water. Ai is used primarily to create misinformation, to confuse, and to abuse people’s right to privacy. Using chatgpt or similar programs for anything directly harms the planet and a whole lot of people you don’t know.

When you use ai for research, prayers or essays, you’re voluntarily doing a group project with an inferior partner that constantly lies to you. You will have to fact check and rewrite everything it gives you anyways. I promise you there is so so much value to learning and doing things yourself. My deities have outright strictly rejected anything I have offered them that had any involvement with ai. They not only demanded that I stop, they questioned why I felt the need to use it in the first place.

Me: I made a few prayers for you

Lucifer: wow cool, I hate them. They’re so ugly 😊

me: w… that’s so mean

Lucifer: Imagine how I feel. My own devotee can’t write me prayers himself.

But I CAN and I should.

Here’s what I wrote down from my conversation with Lucifer:

“I think the “trick” behind ai is evident in its name. You have people who do not understand what true intelligence is, selling “artificial intelligence “ to others who do not understand what intelligence is, with the belief that what they’re seeing is a display of it. Had AI been marketed as a language tool, an algorithm, a data synthesizer, perhaps it would not have been viewed as an authority on information. While I do not think that AI will eliminate critical thinking and media literacy, at least not totally, I believe it is contributing to the subtle shift in the definition of these words, “intelligent, professional”. In a world where anyone can access information, believing that access itself is understanding, we start to see the devaluing of the “professional”. The word of trained doctors and scientists becomes subordinate to the belief of the individual regardless of its source, because a so called “intelligent” machine provided it. So while I do not believe that AI will prevent people like you from learning and reading, I do believe that it will greatly devalue the wisdom of people like you, because the true intelligence of the scholar and professional that takes time and effort will be considered equal to, or even inferior to, this new “artificial intelligence” which is fast and efficient, requires no additional learning or practice. People like you will continue to think and learn, the real question is if the majority will believe you.”

If you’re reading this and thinking “oh shit I use ai all the time, I’m a bad person” no you are not. I also used ai, like A LOT, for writing. I now cannot in good conscience use it for anything. You’re allowed to make mistakes and do better in the future. You are smart and capable. You can learn to do things as we have been this whole time. You can stop today.

Death to AI today and forever.

"AI" offerings are the digital equivalent of leaving all yer trash on the ground after a ritual in a park, forest, etc.

Please research the environmental impact of those automated art theft image/text generators.

Artists have flooded the internet with free creative assets, tutorials, barter offers and free commission slots. Use them.

I assure you the Gods will be fuckin' thrilled for any offering that doesn't hurt Jörð for the creative chickenshittery of techbros.

#witchcraft #paganism #pagan #pagan witch #paganblr #offerings #deity work #deity worship #deity witchcraft #lord lucifer #lucifer deity #theistic luciferianism #demonology #demonolatry #ai

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theonlymanny · 2 days ago

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Bruce Wayne x Batdad Reader!

Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But it was all good he loved and you loved him. Simply as that, you guys met because you where a famous singer and met at one of his galas.

At first he was all flirty and honoring his playboy persona. You didn’t show any interest at first because who doesn’t flirt with M/n. But Bruce was kind of charming and really nice. Beside everything you heard from him. And then you woke beside him in bed. “Oh my fucking-” anyway- let’s leave that behind.

After that night you thought he would leave you like it never happened and keep going on with his life, but surprisingly he invited you on a date. A couple years later you met Alfred a really nice person and enjoyed your company. And all of that disappeared because your 5 year boyfriend left you without a word for 10 fuckin years.

“Hey Alfred have you heard from Bruce I didn’t see him today” “oh master M/n… I thought you knew…” after that you promised to never trust anyone that easily, sure it affected you but you weren’t going to stop and be miserable. You decided to take out some new songs.

“M/N is back!” Your fans were going crazy! Everybody thought you quit the music career and left. And… Bruce well not like he didn’t care about you he just wanted to make a change. He was training to protect you and Alfred. And then he was there your “boyfriend” you were spending time with Alfred. You weren’t going to leave him alone for 10 whole years!

“H- hi umm…” Bruce looked at you. He looked much muscular and old… “ Alfred I think I should go…” you took your things and while you were about to open the door Bruce grabbed your hand. “Don’t you-” “please let me explain…” you lost right there “what Bruce!? Explain that you left me for 10 years!” Bruce was shocked. He remembered you much calmer and shy.

You let him explain why he leaved you. Because you were still young you gave him another opportunity. Some years later you met Richard or Dick who you protected with your life and refused to let him be robin. “Sweetheart please…” you refused to look at him “Bruce it’s too dangerous for a literal kid to be fighting grown ass men or women who want to hurt him!” Dick heard your discussion somewhat regretting he asked Bruce to be his sidekick. You saw Dick on the corner wanting to cry… “oh… Richard why are you crying?” “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to fight I I- just wanted to help.” You sighed “I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this but… I guess you can go help Bruce…” Bruce smiled and Dick celebrated and hugged you. “Thank you!” You looked at Bruce and said darkly“Bruce if something happens you are going to regret being Batman” Bruce only laughed and hugged both of you.

After some years Dick grew older and became a teenager. “Hey Dick what do you want to eat today?” Dick really grew trust in you that he called you dad first than Bruce. “Dunno dad maybe some pancakes??” And while Dick and Bruce were patrolling Bruce found Jason a young boy trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason really liked you he had a better relationship with you then Bruce or Dick. He would often ask you to read him books. It was like that until that day… Joker captured Jason. “hey Bruce!” When you went to the bat cave you only found Dick and Bruce. “Where’s Jason?” You were more then devastated when he died.

You and Bruce barely spoke, Dick tried to make you both love each other again, but he couldn’t even make you both sleep in the same bed. After 1 or 2 years Bruce decided to adopt another kid. Tim. That’s when you started thinking about divorce.

“Really!? Another kid you wanna harm this one too?” You started loosing respect from Bruce, but there was nothing you could do he was so stubborn.

In those years that Tim became and trained to be a robin. You also trained… to kill the guy that took your son. You learned how to use every weapon you had on your use, you where stronger and faster, and learned a lot of fight movements.

The day you heard your third son was captured… you didn’t let Bruce handle this. You went there by yourself with a shotgun,gun, rifle, a lot of more utensils that would help you get your son back.

The building was quiet there was no sign of life but only lifeless body’s all around you opened the door and automatically shot the Joker on his knee. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He screamed in agony while watching you above him. “Tim… go.” Tim looked at you and before he left he hugged you. “It will be okay…” after you made sure he left you grabbed a metal pipe and left the Joker on a wall. “Hahahahahahah! Let me guess you are going to kill me! WOW I’m so scared!” You looked at him angrily and hit him with the metal pipe. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He spat blood all over the floor. “Batsy is not gonna let you kill me” he laughed quietly. “Well guess what… I will make sure he doesn’t interfere. And I my self will make sure you don’t take anyone else’s kid again” Joker looked confused but then realized. “You are robins Dad! Batman’s husband!” That name hurted you… “well guess what it was so fun I don’t regret it.” He was pushing your limits. You started breathing loudly and one by one you killed the man that killed your kid.

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Hey yall! I think this was my longest post but I hope y’all like it. I leaved a tlou reference In there. That’s all! There might be part 2 tho.

#dc #male reader #batfam #batman #dc comics #angst #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #batdad

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