#because i also wish to be wider read

[shazleen]

Hi! I just wanted to pop in here and tell you that your webcomic BUUZA!! was one of the first ones I read and one that I hold really dear to my heart. After reading it for the first time a few years ago I realized how much I love fantasy and fiction based in non-western settings. Though I don't read comics/graphic novels often anymore, I wanted to thank you for creating such an amazing world and characters ❤

Hey!

Thank you so much for enjoying Buuza!! ;w; that means a lot to me!!

I hope even though you don't read comics as much now, you have found lots of other fantasy media that centres black, asian and global majority voices :)

[sforzesco]

you're SO right, how is it that the best portrayal of many italian renaissance figures comes from a bad videogame from the 2010s

wheezing I’m torn between going truly this is the best portrayal of Leonardo da Vinci we may ever get, and defending AC2 even though I’m a full time Ezio Saga Hater

[leezuhh]

it's crazy to me that there are people out there who still think that media and fiction do not affect how people think at all

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Saint of Bright Doors

a surreal Sri Lankan fantasy about colonialism, revolution, mixing fantasy with the modern world

follows a man raised by his mother to kill his father, a god-like cult leader

but as an adult he puts aside his life of violence and moves to the city for a quiet life

he becomes fascinated with ‘bright doors’ around the city that never open and have no other side, and joins a group studying them to find out more

and a support group for those with divine heritage that becomes increasingly revolutionary, until the task he was made for reemerges and his life upends

[wingsmadeforflying]

I'm still so upset over Lance's "Calm, just how a like it" ending. BITCH WHEN. HOW. WHERE.

This is the man who fought to get out of being a cargo pilot. Has always felt confirmed in his lion. Has never once been genuinely "I want out". YOU CANNOT TELL ME. THIS MAN-

I get it. War changes you. But!!! If your genuinely committing with Allurance (bleh), THAT MAN. WOULD WANT TO BE IN THE STARS. NOT STARTING AT THE FUCKING ALTEAN FLOWERS. Lance is a devoted simp, through and through. He would be flying through the stars, basking in the glory of what Allura sacrificed for. What she became. Taking in everything she is and was. NOT BEING A FUCKING FARMER GGVHJNTUGH.

They did him so dirty overall it's terrible.

[janumun]

Jdieos hii so I have a lil request. Please ignore it if you're uncomfortable with it,

Sylus with a virgin reader. Like never touched herself, not even toys, never seen a dick kinda virgin

Just to make sure I'm 18+ 😭

Hey Nonny! Requests are technically closed but since I am very not normal about anything Sylus and LaDS men right now and your request is personally, an interesting topic for me, I don’t mind indulging in a few HCs for both our sakes 😆😆 for how I see him with a beloved, who’s never been with anyone before. Happy Reading!

First Times with Sylus (NSFW/18+ Headcanons)

Tags: virgin reader, oral and vaginal sex, squirting

Good communication is a strong basis of a relationship established with Sylus.

Words are used, desires are conveyed in clear cut actions and mannerisms and Sylus encourages the same of you. Even when the two of you share a kiss for the first time, it is on your terms alone and at the pace with which you wish to drive your relationship further into physicality. 

Scarlet gaze meeting yours from across the warm space in between your faces — the want he parses on your face for more, in the curl of delicate digits you grip against his, as you urge him closer. Lashes trembling shut with the press of your mouths against the other, your pleased little sound of approval breaking against his lips, he swallows into his. 

Soft, drifting kisses he lets warm your body into his; across the curve of your cheek, down the angle of your jaw. 

And only when you haul his face back up against yours in the curl of desperate digits against his jaw, letting your mouth fall open, does he put his tongue into you for the first time. Smile hitching wider against the catch of breath that very new feeling elicits within you. “Any more of trying to hold your breath like that and you’ll turn yourself dizzy in no time.” Thick fingers easing about the back of your head, threading in between your locks. “Breathe through your nose, kitten. Yes, just like that.”

 Your first time is a slow, torturously pleasurable and long process. And not just because of how a single night in Sylus’s bed is enough to ruin a person.

It is also because of his need to prepare you well beforehand — his sheets will be drenched, your pussy worked open, long before he even attempts fitting his cock into you.

[As also detailed at great length in my NSFW headcanons for Sylus] the man is no stranger to sex, he knows his way about it; which in turn also affords him the knowledge of how to handle a partner, especially an inexperienced one, with the proper care they deserve. 

It is only thanks to the enduring stores of stamina afforded to a Hunter through their relentless cycles of training, are you able to keep up with Sylus’s gentle wrecking of your body during your first night. 

Once he’s shed you entirely of your clothes and spread, willing and open, upon his sheets does he move to pace down the length of your body. Devious mouth having long worked your lips and tongue into a mess; he shifts to settle in between your legs. Prying open your legs in the press of large palms, thumbing to ease at the tense tendon of your thighs when you involuntarily stiffen to stone, to have a man down there for the very first time in your life. 

You’d never been with another and a relationship with Sylus had already gifted you with so many of your wonderful firsts.

And you’re ready to let him be the first man you make love to, a fact you’ve never been more sure of. 

You are no stranger to how sex works, in theory —  you may have never indulged before freely in your desires, never having had the reason or drive to indulge in pleasuring yourself, before him but you certainly do understand what it entails, broadly.

And yet, when Sylus’s mouth settles across your wet heat to lap, you know nothing else in this world could’ve ever prepared you for the way your hips spasm up into his steeled hold. 

Not used to the way the pointed edge of his tongue curls up into your walls to work your pussy open for himself. Humming into your folds, the gravelly vibrations of it traveling all the way up, as if to your very womb. 

“Relax yourself, kitten. There you go, good girl.” Clenching in on him so tight, to filthy words and praises he warms into the night. 

“You’re going to tear through the sheets if you grip them any harder.” He hums. “If you do need something to hold on to, ” Guiding your white knuckled grip to loosen, and towards the mussed strands of his hair. “My head is right here, sweetheart.” 

Trudging you uphill, slow, sensuous — this man takes his merry time —  towards a devastating peak. Ministrations gentling when he feels you close, causing you to gush your frustrations across the angle of his jaw, his nose brushing up against your clit.

A combined assault of lips, tongue, gentled teeth and fingers working you into ruin — he keeps you suspended for hours within that torturous, precipitating state of desire. 

And when you finally fall— 

It is the most wonderfully disastrous feeling you’ve ever experienced in your life, orgasming so fucking hard, you feel your wetness spurt onto his eager tongue, trickle down the strength of his jaw. Eyes giving in to grey at the corners with the vehemence of your release before you black out, with your lover’s mouth still buried within the space of your legs. 

When you next wake up, Sylus is soothing your nerves against the kisses he feathers at your temples.

“Better now, sweetie?”

Your disorientation unfurling back into the present before you give him your consent, assuring him you are alright.

He’s unraveling you open so many more times after — a terrifying incarnate of self-control — on his fingers coaxing open your hole for what’s to come.

You’re nearly delirious with mad desire by the time you feel the hot roll of his cock against your drenched thighs, working your slick onto his length before he positions himself at your slit.

Pushing into you, gentle, slow.

There is no pain, owing to how he’s had you so overly prepared — only the discomfiting stretch of a foreign ingression you’ve never before felt in your life. 

Sylus’s thrusts into you are languid and superficial the first night you are his. Lazy, wonderful pleasure, he brings upon the two of you. 

He is well-endowed down below and he understands that well; his full length he doesn’t try coax you to accommodate during your first time together. Not ready to overwhelm you with his full size just yet. There will be time for that, later.

When you are much more stretched, much more used to his girth, sweetie. 

End Notes: Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated if you are so inclined. ❤️

Tagging @bitches4lifebro , @catboi-anon , @samanthagnicole , @beebumbo , @hellinistical , @chocomii-chan , @dangerousluv1 , @webmvie , @Cas-tiel13 , @aria-tempest , @raendarkfaerie , @lordchula-thegrandrula

If you’d like to be tagged in my future stories, you can fill this short form here. If you’d like to be removed, shoot me a DM!

You can also find me on Ao3 and twitter, if you’d like to chat or just squeal with me about hot characters, in general.

[otaku553]

Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit

Some more design notes below:

Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.

For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.

I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.

I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.

Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.

I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha

The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.

[reidrum]

stargazing | s.r.

A/N: this was a request and the concept itself makes me sick so here’s this, spencer reid i will fight your demons for you get behind me

summary: in which you attempt to heal a little part of spencer, one star at a time

cw: just fluff and comfort, fear of dark, can be read as gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

Learning about Spencer was a privilege, if you had to describe it. He would most likely say the same about you if he was asked, but god does he not know the marvel of discovering the inner workings and tinkerings that is Spencer Reid.

You knew he loved magic because of the child-like wonder and imagination it brings him. He always reads old literature in their native language because he believes the translated ones muddle the original intent. He refuses to wear matching socks because he loves when kids point out they’re mismatched and he gets to act all silly with them.

And tonight, you’ve learned yet another one. Spencer Reid is afraid of the dark.

It’s a logical fear to have, hell you still sleep with a nightlight and stuffie every night too. But for Spencer, it was different. The darkness didn’t just remind him of the unknown, it reminded him of places he’d been, places he spent countless nights trying to forget about but latch onto him like a blood sucking leech.

When you found out about it, it was completely unintentional. It happened at a movie night about a week ago, it was getting too late for you to drive back home so Spencer offered you to stay over and head back in the morning. After he’d given you a change of his clothes he went and got settled on the bed, and you went over to the light switch to turn it off.

“Wait!” you hear Spencer rush out, “Do you mind if we…keep it on?”

“You sure? I thought you were really sleepy.”

He looks at you nervously, “I—I am, it’s just…” he trails off.

It takes you a few seconds to understand what he really means, a look of recognition washing over your face while Spencer’s fills with guilt.

“It’s okay, we can keep it on.” you say lightly, walking back over to get under the covers with him. You cozy up next to him and look up, “I didn’t know you were…”

“I don’t really talk about it, I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice still holding what sounded like shame to you.

“Spence, it’s okay you don’t need to explain to me. Just want you to be comfortable, okay?”

He nods one last time before sinking his head down onto his pillow, and through his lashes wishes you good night. It really broke your heart to see Spencer be so affected by something that made him feel scared and self conscious. You just wish you could do something to help him feel better.

Lucky for you, you knew Spencer really well.

The next movie night you came prepared with a surprise of your own, hoping it would ease Spencer’s anxieties a little as he tried his best to rest.

“You look excited. More than you usually are when I pick an old Russian movie.” he remarks with a soft smile, opening the door wider for you.

“While I am very excited to watch Catch 22 in Russian, I brought something for you!”

He looks at you quizzically, “What? You didn’t need to bring anything, you know that—”

You wave him off and bound over to the couch, “Come sit, I’ll show you.”

Spencer shuts the door and sits next to you as you produce an opened package from behind your back, “Okay, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,”

“Always a great way to start a sentence.” he quips.

“Stop! I’m being serious,” you lightly thwap him on the shoulder, “Okay, I couldn’t stop thinking about how you told me you’re afraid of the dark, and I’m really happy that you felt comfortable enough to tell me, but it also made me really sad to think about you alone in your room not feeling okay…so.”

Before Spencer can even respond you pull out the contents of the opened package and lay it in your lap, beginning to work on opening the outer plastic. His brows furrow slightly, “What is that?”

You smile, “Well I was going to get you a cool nightlight, I saw some sick Tardis ones or even a pumpkin shaped one. Which I can still get if you want or if you hate this…” you finally get the last plastic off and pull out what’s inside, “But I got you these.” you hold them out for him to see.

Spencer gazes over your hands and asks, “Stars?”

“They’re glow in the dark stars,” you say matter of factly. You hold one out for him, watching him cup his hand around his eye to shroud the star in darkness and see its glow, “I used to have them on the ceiling and walls in my room when I was little.”

He smiles fondly thinking about a tiny you in a tiny bed, staring up at the stars on your ceiling as you try to fall asleep. You continue softly, “I was thinking we could put these up in your room and make little astronomically correct constellations on your ceiling. The intention is that whenever you look up you can remind yourself of the stories of the constellations to help you fall back asleep. But whenever you’re feeling afraid or scared, you can look up and see Ursa Major or Cassiopeia reminding you that you’re safe.”

Spencer is not often left speechless, but he’s come to learn that anything’s possible with you. He is not able to process that you took it upon yourself to find a solution to something that’s been plaguing his sleep for years, something that he didn’t even know could be fixed. A few tears escape from his eyes before he can help it, followed by a quick sniffle that brings your attention back to his face.

“Oh Spence,” you breathe out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no I’m not upset,” he pulls his sleeve to wipe his eyes, “The exact opposite, actually. This…is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

You smile softly, “I just wanted to help. You deserve to rest and feel safe in your own space. If I can help with that in any way, I will.”

For the fear of crying again in front of you, Spencer grabs you and pulls you close to his chest, the smell of his laundry detergent and cologne overwhelming your senses so much you almost miss the muffled ‘Thank you’ whispered into your hair.

You press a small kiss to his chest, right on his heart before standing up and gathering the stars in your hands, “Okay, so which constellation are we doing first?”

All the love inside of him is about to burst as he looks at you about to walk into the bedroom, “Have I ever told you about the story of Perseus and Andromeda?”

[megwritesriddles]

In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.

Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 3.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–

He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.

“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.

“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.

“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"

“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.

“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.

Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.

“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.

“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.

He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.

After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.

Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.

One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.

“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.

“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.

“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.

“Can you eat me out again?”

And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[mentally-gone002]

lovers in the night

summary: steve sneaks into his girlfriends room at night in secret so that they can be together.

steve harrington x henderson!f!reader. secret relationship!!!!

can be read in its own, or with this part 2 here, and part 3 here

a/n: reader is dustin’s sister so obvi. she’s gonna have like curly hair but no color is specified. also i L O V E a good henderson!reader with steve!! like idk why but it’s just a great pair since steve and dustin are already my fav duo in the show!! i love them sm😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

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cicadas buzzed endlessly beyond the open window and cotton curtains swished back and forth like a chest heaving with slow breaths along with the late night wind. 

goosebumps rose on her bare arms as she sat with her back against her bed frame on the carpeted floor, slowly flicking through a book that dustin had forced into her hands earlier that day. it was actually really good, not that she didn’t trust her brother’s judgement on literature or anything, but some books he has lent her had been not worth the read. she should’ve read this earlier.

“hey,” a sharp whisper broke her focus on the words across the page and her eyes flew to the door. it was still closed. her eyes went back to the page, only to be interrupted by quiet tapping on glass. 

she turned her head and grinned widely at the barely visible sight of steve behind the glass. “what’re you doing here?” she hissed, still sporting a smile while she got up to place her book on her nightstand and then stand on her mattress and slide the window open wider. steve didn’t answer as he hoisted himself through the window which was far above the ground. he grunted and then fell through the window to land on his back on her bed, making her step back on the mattress with her hands covering her mouth to suppress a laugh. 

he sat up, huffing a little and pushing back his chestnut hair from his forehead as he watched her sit down beside him. “i missed you.” he answered and his hand snaked to hold the back of her neck, pulling her forward into a soft kiss. 

she laughed softly into it. “you saw me a few hours ago.” she whispered, trying to hint that they needed to be quiet. 

its been months they’ve been together and nobody knew that they were dating… yet. she was worried about how dustin would react, along with everyone else in his party; partially because they didn’t like steve until a few months ago. steve agreed with her, with some shock due to the fact that her brother and his friends only just started to like him, but wished he didn’t have to wait until they were alone to be as close as he wanted with her. 

steve shook his head slightly, honeyed eyes holding hers in an intimate stare. “i know, but we weren’t alone.” his fingers gently tangled in the hair on the back of her neck. “sorry dustin booted you to the backseat by the way.”

she chuckled at the remembrance. “it’s okay, he rides shotgun in my moms car too.” her voice was filled with fondness. “what isn’t okay is dustin almost catching us!” she whispered through a toothy grin because she can’t help but feel all giddy at the rush of secrecy with him. 

“well, what can i say? you looked really pretty.” steve whispers, leaning close to capture her lips with his again. he felt his heart race under his ribs the longer he kissed her.

she pulled away. “you can say ‘i’m sorry i almost jeopardized our secret relationship. it won’t happen again.’ or something like that.” her smile showed how she was teasing him while she spoke. 

steve shook his head, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “it won’t happen again.” he repeated back with a cheeky smile, playing along with her. 

she smiled back and brushed her curls back from her eyes. “good.” 

steve lolled his head to the side so he could just keep looking at her. he liked how her hair looked right now; it was all wild because she took it out of its previous style from earlier and didn’t seem to have tamed it. “how are you?” he wondered. 

she looked away from his eyes with an accompanied smile. her eyes landed on dustin’s book on the edge of her nightstand. “good. just enjoying the night, y’know?” she shrugged a little with a small grin. “dustin lent me a book earlier.” her eyes found steve’s again.

steve nodded and laid down on his back, stretching his arms above his head so that his hands bumped the wall. she stared at where his shirt had ridden up, the soft skin of his stomach was on display. “what’s it about?” he asked, looking over at where she was still sitting up. 

her body slowly settled beside steve’s before she answered. her head was resting on his chest. “it’s about a bunch of fantasy people going on an adventure.”

“is it the hobbit?” steve lifted his head a little to gaze down at her face turned on its side.

she looked up at him when he named the book just based from her description of it. “yeah, have you-“ a knock on her bedroom door had them both jumping in surprise to sit up.

“hey,” it was dustin. “can i come in?” he asked, voice slightly muffled by the door. 

steve looked at her and she put her index finger over her lips before pointing to her bed, intending for him to get under it. he did as she silently told him to do before she left walked to the door and opened it. “what’re you doing up this late?” she rubbed her hand to her eye, giving dustin the impression that he woke her up. he didn’t seem guilty as he walked passed her and into her bedroom, going to her closet and opening the doors. 

steve swallowed thickly, glad he didn’t hide there. it would’ve been cliche and embarrassing.

“i’m looking for batteries. my walkie died.” dustin explained, walking to look at the things littering the top of his sisters dresser after not finding any batteries. “jesus, why do you have so much jewelry?” he asked, lifting up a glass dish housing her rings. 

“i don’t have batteries, dustin.” she sighed and let her eyes slip to steve’s hiding place while dustin’s back was still to her. “why don’t you have spares anyway?” 

dustin faced her with a seemingly exhausted sigh. “i did, until i used them all. there’s been a lot going on, in case you forgot about the upside down.” he sassed with a tone. 

she rolled her eyes at him and gave her own exhausted sigh. “i didn’t, and like i said before, i don’t have batteries.” her eyes once again flashed down to the gap under her bed when she thought she heard steve shift or move around. 

dustin looked with her in confusion. “are you hiding a demo-dog?” he joked lightly. “why do you keep looking down there?” he stepped closer to her bed and she stiffened. 

“something probably just fell from how it was weirdly placed. you know… gravity.” nervous laughter ended her sentence. dustin cast her a look saying ‘you’re lying’ all over his face. he got down onto the floor on his hands and knees so that he could look under her bed. “dustin! get out of my room!” she hissed, kneeling on the floor beside him and tried, and failed, to moved him. 

he was too far into his investigation to be told what to do. he moved a box or two aside and then paused, redrawing his hand. “steve? what the hell are you doing under my sisters bed?” he asked, almost too loud. steve smiled with his teeth awkwardly and crawled out from under the bed to sit beside his (secret) girlfriend. dustin’s eyes traveled to his sister. “did you know he’s here?” 

she nodded. “yeah, he’s been here for a while.” her hand lifted to settle on steve’s shoulder. that was her way of silently telling him that it’s gonna play out fine. “why are you such a snoop?” that question was directed at dustin of course, who scoffed and stood up. 

“i’m not. i was checking for monsters so i don’t wake up tomorrow and find you dead.” he widened his eyes and shrugged, as if his reason was obvious from the start. he walked to the door after receiving nothing but an eye roll and her forceful ushering out oh her bedroom. “oh, and don’t like… do stuff.” he made a disgusted face at the thought. 

steve laughed with his hands over his face. he was still sitting on the floor. “we aren’t together, henderson.” steve covered. 

he nodded with half lidded eyes. “sure. and why would you be hiding under her bed then?” 

steve shrugged. “didn’t want the interaction with the other henderson. one’s enough.” 

she slapped the side of his head after she’d walked back to stand beside where he sat. her lips were pinned into a smile. “asshole.” 

dustin rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “just be quiet.” and then he shut the door. 

steve stood up after the door shut and pulled her into him in a hug, still laughing slightly. “my hearts beating so fast.” he panted. “he knows.” 

“oh, he most definitely knows.” she nodded, pulling away. “might as well come out and tell them, but he’ll beat us to it with his radio system.” a shrug came from her shoulders. 

steve pursed his lips with a hum and a nod. “how much you wanna bet the group has bet on us?” he wondered. 

she blew out a breath in exasperation at the thought. “i can already see them all exchanging money with stupid smiles.” her gentle laughter filled the room. 

————————————————————————

dustin didn’t knock before he opened his sisters bedroom door the following morning, and he wasn’t surprised to see that steve was still there. 

steve was flush against her as they both slept on well through the morning, his arms were wound tightly around her waist to keep her from moving away. 

dustin only shook his head with a sigh and maybe the smallest smile before leaving the two alone. he wasn’t going to tell the party about it, not until his sister was ready to because he respects her. but the party does already think that steve and her are together, so it won’t come as a shock. 

he’ll let him sleep a bit longer before he interrupts the peace. 

[darlingletters]

hard to believe lh44

lewis hamilton x angolan!reader (actress)

in which no one believes that lewis hamilton is dating y/n y/l/n after he hard launches their relationship.

warnings: fluff, relationships, kissing, dancing close together, some spelling mistakes, my spelling in portuguese is horrendous so let me know if there’s any mistakes (I didn’t use google translate cause it’s the brazilian version), lemme know if I missed anything else.

an: I put my favourite love song in this, I didn’t even mean to but I think it matches perfectly with the vibe of the plot. hope my angolan girlies enjoy and if there’s anything I need to change, let me know ��

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lewishamilton

liked by carlossainzz55, georgerussell63, and 786,282,272 others

lewishamilton ❤️ girlfriend

tagged yourusername

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user IS THAT Y/N Y/L/N

user liessss. ain’t no way you bagged y/n

user mhm sure lewis, and my boyfriend is henry cavill

user we know you been single a while but this is a bit much

user it’s ok to be single bestie, no one judging

user she didn’t even like the post

user I also wish y/n was my girl

georgerussell63 👍🏼 yeah lewis!

⤷ user damn even george don’t believe it

carlossainz55 never seen her at a race….

⤷ user 💀 mate I think you’re supposed to aid in people believing lewis not doubting him

user lewis 😭😭 you could of least picked someone people would believe you’re dating

user SHE AINT EVEN COMMENTING

user this is kinda sad lol

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“WHY DOES NO ONE BELIEVE YOU?” she asks confused as she looks over the comments on lewis’ recent post. she hadn’t seen it until now and only now had the chance to like it.

“I wouldn’t believe me either love, you are way to beautiful.” he says casually as he settles down next to her, placing his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“that’s stupid.” she says softly, her accent coming out slightly when saying the word ‘stupid’, making lewis smile at her lovingly. “I’ll make a post.” she states firmly, already going to make a post on instagram.

“not right now.” he says calmly, softly laughing as he takes her phone out her hands and sets it down on the coffee table. “right now we are having date night and we aren’t going let anything distract us, so do it in the morning.” he tells her with a smile as he grabs the remote and popcorn and settles it on his lap as she leans her head against his shoulder.

“fine, but in the morning, I am making a post because people thinking you couldn’t have a chance dating me is ridiculous.” she says, her tone still a little irritated from reading the comments.

he chuckles slightly as he lifts her chin to look up at him and kisses her softly, “thank you for being so protective love, but I don’t need it.” he leans his forehead against hers.

“doesn’t matter, I’ll do it anyway.” her frown changing to a smile at the tenderness of the moment. “I love you.” she whispers to him, almost like she hasn’t told hundreds of times.

“I love you too gorgeous.” he whispers back.

“does that mean you’ll finally let me teach you to dance kizomba?” she says hopeful, looking at him with pleading eyes.

he throws his head back in laughter, “you don’t give do you?” he says smiling as he looks back down at her. “fine, I give up, I’ll let you teach me.” he agrees, her smile only growing wider as she stands up quickly and she runs to get her speaker making him groan. “baby, not now.” he says, letting his head fall back on the coach.

“yes now, because then you’ll back out of it. now up you get.” she says setting the speaker up and looking though her song collection on spotify as she picks a song. “we’ll start off easy, a nice slow kizomba.” she smiles as the song ‘loucos’ by matias damásio and héber marques starts playing.

she slowly teaches him the steps. she leads the dance and makes sure he has his hands and feet in the right position.

after a few minutes of trying again and again, he manages to get the steps right and they are moving around the living room to the song as they look at each other without speaking.

he spins her around making her giggle softly which places a wide grin on his face as they go back to the close proximity they were once in and continue moving to the beat of the music.

“you’re getting good.” she whispered to him and she places her forehead against his.

“got a good teacher.” he smiles.

“eu estou tão apaixonada por te, eu acho que tu nem entendes.” she whispers to him in portuguese, making his grin grow wider as he looks at her. (I am so in love with you, I don’t think you understand.)

he hums softly, “I am not exactly sure what you said, but I am pretty sure my response is, I love you too.” he whispers back as he kisses her cheek making her blush.

“és o amor da minha vida.” she tells him with complete certainty. (you are the love of my life.)

“ah, now that I do know and my love, you are also the love of my life. more then you can imagine.” he speaks with the same tone she did whilst looking at her like she hung the moon and the stars.

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yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainzz55 and 654,822,292 others

yourusername sir lewis carl davidson hamilton is my boyfriend and I, y/n y/m/n y/l/n, am his girlfriend.

tagged lewishamilton

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user NOT THE FULL GOVERNMENT NAME

user 😭😭 I didn’t actually think they were dating

user damn.

user lucky

user this is ridiculous

carlossainz55 hi 👋🏼

⤷ yourusername hey 👋🏼

⤷ landonorris OMG SHE SAID HEY TO YOU

⤷ carlossainz55 I KNOWWW

lewishamilton damn your gorgeous

⤷ yourusername you too 🤭

user ok wait, they actually cuteee

user 😭 ok my favourite wag is now y/n

user the way no one believed him

user THE ROSES

user have you taught him kizomba??

⤷ yourusername LAST NIGHT it took me so long to convince him omd, i thought he’d never do it

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lewishamilton made a story

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[graysoncritic]

A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Introduction

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

I want to start this essay by admitting I’m actually embarrassed by its length. Why did I spend so much time on something I dislike? The truth is, I did not begin this with the intention of creating such an extensive, formal study of the Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing run and how it reflects the wider problems with DC’s handling of one of their most iconic characters. I was just trying to organize the thoughts that came up during discussions with other Dick Grayson fans. Before I knew it, I had enough material, enough desire to challenge myself, and enough frustrations to vent to properly create this monstrosity.

I did not begin this Nightwing run determined to hate it. In fact, I was ready to love it. As Taylor promoted the run before the first issue was officially released, I was so excited for it. As I read short interviews where he discussed Heartless, I could not wait to have a new, incredible villain. Foolishly, I believed Taylor when he said he loved Dick Grayson. 

Needless to say, I was disappointed. Then frustrated. Then angry. The beginning of any story is a period where writer and reader form an indirect bond, and as the story progresses, so do the highs and the lows of said relationship. As such, a reader’s tolerance for negative factors will either increase or decrease depending on their experience up until that point.

In other words, if the writer fails to earn the reader’s trust and instead takes their attention for granted, even seemingly insignificant details become irritating in a way they would not be if presented in a better story. In such scenarios, the reader can no longer overlook those minor moments because there’s little good to balance them out with. It is a death by a thousand cuts. 

In the case of Taylor and Redondo’s run, along with those thousand cuts are also broken bones, internal bleeding, head trauma, and severed limbs. A weak plot, simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, and, most importantly, a careless disregard for Dick Grayson and everything he stands for utterly destroyed my enjoyment of this series. 

It is still too early to tell what sort of impact Taylor’s (as of time of writing, still unfinished) run will have on Dick Grayson’s future portrayals. But just because we cannot predict its long term significance, it does not mean we cannot critique it. Currently, we simply lack the benefit of hindsight. 

If this essay were to have a thesis, then it is this: Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing not only fails to tell a compelling Nightwing story, but it also exemplifies a cynical, self-serving, and shallow approach to storytelling that prioritizes creating hollow viral moments to boost the creators’ own online popularity over crafting a good story, honoring the character in their care, and respecting his fans – fans who have, historically, often been women, queer folk, and other individuals who felt othered by a cisheteronormative patriarchal society. Taylor and Redondo’s thoughtless and superficial narrative not only undermine the socially progressive ideals they supposedly care for by propagating a cisheteronormative patriarchal worldview, but they also demonstrate a lack of love and understanding for the character in their care. At best, Taylor and Redondo have no interest in getting to know Dick Grayson, nor any respect for their predecessor and their contributions to this character. At worst, they despise Dick so much that they wish to reinvent him into something completely different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to appeal to a readership that never cared about Dick Grayson. 

I structured this essay so that, hopefully, each part will build on the ones that came prior. Naturally, because all aspects of a story are interlaced, there will be overlaps between each of the sections. As it may have become obvious from this introduction, I’ll be focusing primarily on the writing of this run. That is not to say that I will not address the art, but writing is the field I know most about, and so it feels only fair to focus my critique on that. 

I hope that by the end of this essay, I will have successfully proved that this run’s mishandling of different narrative elements betray a cynical appropriation of progressive ideology and a disregard and disinterest in what makes Dick Grayson so special to so many people. This is an attitude that is present within DC Comics’ current ethos as a whole.

Now, who is this essay for? Honestly, it’s probably not for Tom Taylor fans. I do not believe I’ll be persuading anyone with my writing, and, to be quite honest, neither would I say I wish to do so. Taylor and Redondo’s run has won numerous awards and has many dedicated fans who adore it for what it is. If that is you, then I’m glad. I wish I could be among your numbers. I wish more than anything that I could love this story. But I do not, and I know many others agree with me, and it is to them, I think, that I’m speaking to. As Taylor’s run is praised to heaven and back, I needed a safe space to voice my thoughts. This essay became this safe space. And to others who also feel unseen by the constant praise this run is getting, I think this could speak to you, as well. To be cliche and cringe, this will hopefully let you know that you are not alone. 

Finally, I want to acknowledge some people whose thoughts greatly contributed to the creation of this essay. For around three years now I’ve been having wonderful interactions with other Dick Grayson’s fans, and those discussions were not only incredibly fun and cathartic, but also provided great insight into what needed to be included in this essay. My best friend especially gave me a space to vent when I got frustrated, and my original outline borrowed a lot from the messages I sent her, as well as notes I took for our discussions.  

I’ll also be directly quoting four different Dick Grayson fans (identified as Dick Grayson Fans A, B, and C in order to allow them to keep their anonymity). Their analyses were so critical to the formation of my thesis and for a lot of what will be addressed in this essay that I actually feel like they deserve co-credit in this essay. Dick Grayson Fan B especially deserves a shoutout in helping me track down a couple of pages used as supporting evidence, as I knew what pages I was looking for but was having a hard time remembering in which issue they were located. I’m quoting them with permission, and crediting their ideas and contributions whenever relevant. 

Now, without any further ado, let’s get started. 

[acourtofpenandpaper]

The Bat Boys react to your new set of lingerie (ACOTAR Imagine)

Tags: Acotar bat boys x Reader, spicy tension, 18+, imagine, reactions

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Rhysand:

"What did I do to deserve this wonderful sight in front of me?"

"I don't know, being the best High Lord that I ever had the pleasure to meet?" You ask cheekily, climbing onto his lap. Immediately, his hands meet the sides of your hips and squeeze your sensitive skin.

"That doesn't mean anything, given that you only met the High Lord of the Night Court", he pouts.

"It means something to me. Also, I am sure that no other High Lord is as good-looking like yourself", you say and caress his cheek with your thumb, resulting in a low rumble from his throat.

His eyes pierce through you as he takes in the delicate design of the night-blue bralette you are wearing.

Slowly, you reach down to his ear and whisper: "The panties have an opening...for fun activities. Want to try it out?"

In an instant, you feel him go hard under you but you have no time to assess his reaction. You squeak as he lifts you up and places you against the pillows of the large bed you share.

"You know my answer to this question", he says as he pulls his dress shirt over his head.

Cassian:

His eyes go wide as you enter your living room in the small apartment in Velaris and his smile goes even wider. Cassian sits upright and lets his gaze roam over your body.

Your body that was covered by as little fabric as possible. The no cup bra push up your tits fabulously. You had discovered this set while out shopping with Mor and you went back to the store to try it on alone.

So yeah, you enjoy Cassian obviously going feral about this new set because it cost you a half of week's work. But in the end, given his reaction, it was worth it.

"What do you say?" You croon and stop right in front of him.

Your question is entirely rhetorical because you are able to read his thoughts by just looking him in the eyes. They are painted by pure lust.

Without breaking eye contact with you, his hands find the zipper of his pants and he pulls them down, letting free his already hard cock.

"Down on your knees for me." He growls.

His wish is your command, you think as you lower your mouth on him.

Azriel:

"Don't look! It's a surprise!" You shout from the bathroom.

But who are you kidding, given that your boyfriend is a spymaster. His job is literally being not surprised by anthing. Ever.

Trying to clasp the bra, you smile to yourself. Calling Azriel your boyfriend still has a nice ring to it. And you are sure that you will never get tired of it.

"I am not looking, just laying down on the bed like you told me to. I swear." He calls from the other room.

Finally, you adjust the straps from the crimson bra with matching panties and smile to your mirror image. Somehow, you get nervous now and you don't really get why.

Azriel loved you, he has previously said so. No need to be nervous.

"Is everything okay?"

You take a deep breath and emerge from the bathroom, just to be met with Azriel's worried gaze. But seeing you standing in the doorway, his eyes immediately soften.

"Oh", he murmurs.

Your hands twitch to the delicate fabric of your panties. "Do you not like it?"

His eyes light up and he quickly shakes his head. "No, it's just when I saw the set in the bag before..."

"So you saw it before! I should have known!" You exclaim and he laughs in response, catching your hand and pulling you onto his lap. His hands graze your hips.

"Yes, I caught a glimpse of it earlier. You should find better hiding spots in the closet."

You give him a stern look but smile at the same time. It is all in good fun. He always catches your surprises.

"But if you would let me finish my sentence...I would have said that I saw it but my imagination could never have predicted how utterly beautiful you look in this."

And just like that, all your doubts vanish as he catches your mouth with his.

Let me know if you have requests for other reactions for the bat boys (or other Acotar and BG3 characters!). This was fun:)

[ryannorth]

How do you get better at writing as a serious hobby when you're someone who only really ever maintained writing through shitty parody fanfiction and overly emotional vent poetry? I have lengthy detailed ideas for a sci-fi style universe and I want to get the idea out of my head but I have no actual assuredness in my own writing ability. I'm also borderline illiterate.

I tried writing a chapter of my idea today and when I re-read it to myself something about it felt kinda flat. It's hard for me to be descriptive about scenery and such because I have trouble visually imagining things in my head. Are there better ways of strengthening something like that?

The best thing about writing is that there is no way to do it and NOT get better at it. It's just like how there is no way you could shoot hoops three times a week for a year and, at the end of it, not be better at shooting hoops.

The thing is, as you get better at writing, you start to see the flaws you couldn't see before. If you took that chapter you wrote today and gave it to yourself a year ago, I bet you wouldn't see the flaws in it then that you see now. What's changed is you've become a better writer, and now are aware of all the things you wish you could do differently. So it's progress - it's frustrating, but it is progress! You went from not seeing the flaws in your work to seeing them - and the next step is learning how to correct them. You do that by reading and writing more, picking up more tips and tricks that you can employ!

All this to say, my advice is to read and write more, and especially read outside of the genres you're interested in. I can always tell when a comic writer has only read comics, because there's a sameness you encounter. But if you're the comic writer who reads all sorts of things, that gives you a wider breadth of experience, and a more unique one too.

My other advice is to not try to do your big idea right away. You have lengthy and detailed ideas for this universe, and you know exactly what you want it to be - and that's daunting. It'll take years to get all of that written in the way you want. So keep playing with it, keep thinking about it, but give yourself permission to do other things first. It's rare that someone's first book is their best book, and the expectorations you're building in your head may be very very hard to meet. But, to bring it back to what I said at the start - there's no way for you to write and NOT get better at it. Write other things, smaller things, bite-sized achievable things, and later on you'll probably find that this big daunting project is no longer quite so daunting - and much more within your grasp.

I hope this helps!

[justa-fanfic-writer]

Suprise adoption

Summary: You came back home with a few bruises and some scars while carrying a small child that looked like him. Now you both are parents to said child.

Pairing: Domestic Mihawk x Male Reader

Content warning: None

Genre: Fluff

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It was a quiet evening, birds chirping, trees swaying a bit from the wind it was a perfect day to relax and do nothing.

Mihawk was reading the news to see if there was anything interesting happening while drinking black coffee.

Until...

SLAM!

Mihawk heard the door slam open, and he already knew who it was. It was his husband [Reader] who was screaming his name with excitement, running towards him with a wide grin while holding something or someone.

Mihawk wasn't phased when he saw him until he saw his spouse holding something behind his back he took a good look at it, and it was a child...? Mihawk raised one of his eyebrows and asked what he was holding behind his back and than [Reader] smiled even wider and showed him what it is and spoke.

"Look, Mihawk, I kidnapped found a child when i was exploring egghead Island, and he looks just like you! isn't he just adorable? Let's adopt him!"

The child was stoically looking at him while crossing his arms together, demanding why he was taken here.

Mihawk looking at said child and to put it frankly, not surprised at the slightest he had a pink bubblegum goth and a moss headed swordsman who had no sense of directions dropped at his and your castle out of the blue so he didn't care if there was another one coming to freeload at his home again.

He was amused by your enthusiasm when you wanted to adopt him, oh well. Whatever his love wants, he will get and do no questions asked. (Wish I had a lover like him fr)

After you had forcibly adopted the seraphim child, You and Mihawk took care of him as if he were your actual child. The little hawk was warming up to you both quickly and started to see you both as his parent figures, and he even called Mihawk and You, his dad, and Papa!

Nothing really changed that much, except you both now have a bio-engineered seraphim child that had an unfathomable amount of strength, but what's the worst that can happen?

Everything

First order of business, You and Mihawk had started working on the murder tendencies that Vegapunk had put on the child instead of wanting to murder everything as if that would solve all problems.

Second order of business try to give the said murder tendency child a normal childhood like like giving him wooden toy swords or a plushie and not make the child feel as if his an object.

Mihawk is a dad by nature he even has the skills and reflexes to prove it too.

Mihawk wouldn't be the spoiling type of parent if anything discipline would be high on his list of parenting the child you're probably gonna be the one who would spoil the child because I mean how could you say no to the little baby-hawk hm? Or not who knows.

Mihawk is a quiet man, and so is the child. While baby-hawk doesn't always communicate verbally, he makes up for it by for example doing some gestures like holding up books for You to read to him or tugging You or Mihawk's leg to point or say if he wants something.

Now imagine this scenario.

it's just that You and Mihawk are asleep cuddling in bed, and then you both wake up to mini-hawk, turning on the lights.

You groggily rubbed your eyes, and Mihawk was a little irritated that mini-hawk woke you both up, and then you asked mini-hawk why he woke you both up and than he said.

"I want to sleep with Dad and Papa"

Mini-hawk said stoically while keeping a serious face on and holding his favorite toy sword you bought for him.

You then cooed at the child and scooted over and patted the bed, letting him sleep in the middle, and You and Mihawk started sleeping while also cuddling the child in the middle just a happy gothic family bond.

All in all, it was just You, Mihawk, and your little child goth, and he wanted nothing more than that.

The world's strongest swordsman, the cute house husband, and the little baby swordsman, what a chaotic yet beautiful happy family, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

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Sorry if it's short. This is all I could think of...

[etheries1015]

Do you think you could write a fic where MC!Reader who enthusiastically says yes to Rook's proposal for love?

For context:

Every time I read this I just want to reach through the screen and give him the biggest kiss.

YES I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE POINTED THIS OUT BECAUSE I ADORE THIS LINE. I don't care what anyone else says I LOVE Rooks quirky-ness and honestly how am I supposed to find love when he does it ALL???? I would also enthusiastically agree to marry this man. I am glad we can agree on this, Anon

i'm gonna be honest I misread this at first and thought you were asking for a marriage proposal fic, sooooo I wrote two HAHA. This one is the acceptance of the gift he offered above, and i'll link the marriage proposal fic I just wrote HERE <-

An enthusiastic "yes"

featuring: Rook

General warnings: Gender Neutral reader, shorter than you may have hoped, I apologize but I hope you like it nonetheless!

TW: none!

Your birthday had finally come upon you, and the first the greet Ramshackle with his typical smile of affection and enthusiasm, Rook was there to offer his services to you.

"It is your birthday is it not? Normally I'd have planned something grandiose such as 500 poems to express my gratitude towards you, however, I decided to allow it be your choice this year!" You giggled at this, sitting on the couch and crossing your legs.

"I'm not sure I could ask for anything better than 500 poems about me... I'm sure I can think up of something, though. Tell me, what are your boundaries for my request?" You smiled at him with raised eyebrows. Rook returned your eager smile in full.

"Perhaps hunting lessons from yours truly! I'm sure you would look absolutely manifique in hunting attire. My love is on the table as well, of course..." Your eyes widened at this statement, your mouth opening slightly and a laugh escaping your lips. You jumped up from your seat and clasped your hands together in excitement, leaning forward with a bright smile on your features.

"I'll take you up on that offer!" Rooks typically smiley demeanor suddenly shifted, his lips turning into a shocked "o" and piercing eyes wider than yours at the suggestion.

"My...love? that Is what you truly want for your birthday?"

"Yes. Absolutely. And for the rest of our lives, preferably." You said without hesitation.

A large, mischievous grin brighter than you have ever seen plastered upon his glowing features as he picked you up bridal style and headed towards the door. (I would you say would resist, however, I would also say anyone who loves Rook would be incredibly eager at this action.)

"If it is my love you so eagerly desire, then, mon amour, my love is all yours! I shall start by reciting 500 poems I have already memorized to you, and then-" You listened with intent and hearts in your eyes as he began listing all the things he wished to do with you, and the fact you were so enthusiastically agreeable to his half-joke...

you two truly were going to be the talk of the campus, known as NRC couple of the decade.