#because taking them out of their original time and place and putting them in another one is very much a challenge

[heavyhitterheaux]

Black, Purple, and Blue

AN: fluffy goodness 😘💕

Synopsis: The amount of times your husband gets hit during the Ravens game quickly has you concerned, but he tries to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😍

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Hit after hit after hit

You watched your husband get pummeled to the ground multiple times against the Ravens from the comfort of your bed at your home in Cincinnati and it seemed as if there was no end in sight. Multiple people had asked if you wanted to watch the game with them, but you quickly decided against it. You would rather be at home by yourself and not be at some random bar hearing people drunk off their asses talking about your husband if he were to lose.

A fight almost ensued between you and another fan during Joe’s second season with the Bengals and from that point on, you knew it wasn’t even worth your time. You knew Joe was an amazing quarterback and his stats proved it despite what people may say about him.

The game was not moving in the direction that you originally thought, but despite this you still held onto hope since the score was so close.

Joe had confessed to you earlier in the week how anxious and nervous he was for this game and it was to be expected. They were playing in Baltimore on their turf, but seeing how the Ravens caused them an upset at home, it would only be right if the Bengals did the same thing.

Joe was always focused during the season, but it went to a different level when he was playing any team within the same division as the Bengals were.

When the Ravens had gotten the ball back, the camera suddenly cut to the Bengals sideline and you could see Joe wincing in pain as he was holding the left side of his body, Silently cursing to yourself before letting out a sigh, the wheels in your head began to turn and immediately thought the worst.

This time last year as he was playing the Ravens, he sustained his wrist injury that put him out for the rest of the season and the last thing you wanted was for him to go through that all over again. You saw the way it bothered him deep down, even though he thought he was being good at putting up a front for you.

Being married for a total of four years, you could see right through his bullshit and could immediately tell when something was off with him.

You took a sip of your strawberry flavored Truly as you saw Joe throw to Ja’Marr and end up with a touchdown and quickly placed it back down on the table in order to celebrate.

But now, it was time for your nerves to be turned up to another level because you saw them wanting to go for a two point conversion.

“You cannot be fucking serious right now.” You quietly said out loud, even though there was no one in the room but you.

During the play, someone on the Ravens defense had pulled Joe’s face mask and you were yelling at the television seeing as how they never even called it.

Suddenly, your phone rang next to you and you debated on whether you should answer it until you saw that it was your cousin Yalisa. Clicking accept, the first thing you heard was her yelling.

“Y/N! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON IN THIS GAME?! DO YOU SEE HOW MANY CALLS THEY MISSED?! And not them beating your husband like he stole something.”

“I’m so over this, I don’t even know anymore. It seems like they are personally working against them. Did you see him grab Joe’s face mask?”

“Yes! And that’s why I called you! Are the refs blind?!”

“Um, the only names I’ve heard all night are Joe and Ja’marr. It doesn’t seem like anyone else showed up to play today.”

“See? That’s why Joe is as ripped as he is now because he’s carrying this team on his fucking back!”

“And he keeps wincing, so I’m concerned because he has yet to seek medical attention. He just keeps going back in and I can tell that something is wrong with him.” You quietly said and tried to take a deep breath to help ground you from the uneasy feeling that was creeping in.

“I guess he sees it as he has to go back in because who the fuck else is going to? They are seriously pissing me off. Is this the week that Zac gets fired?” She asked and you immediately stifled a laugh.

“As much as I would like that to become a reality, a lot more things need to change beside that one.”

It was one in the morning when your phone rang alerting you that you had a facetime call from your husband and you immediately answered.

The two of you stared at each other as you noticed Joe was laying down. In order to get more comfortable, he adjusted himself and you once again saw him wince. But before you could say anything about it, you heard his voice.

“I didn’t wake you up did I?” He asked and you simply shook your head no.

“No, and you know I always wait for you to call me before I go to sleep. I have to hear your voice one way or another.”

“And hearing your voice has to be my favorite thing in the world. I just can’t wait until tomorrow when I actually get to hold you.”

“I can’t wait for that either and I am going to fix all your favorite comfort foods and we’ll eat ourselves into a food coma to get through this.” You replied as you brought the comforter higher up your body since you were getting cold.

“While watching rom coms of course.”

“A man that knows a way to my heart.” You told him and he gave you a small smile.

It was quiet for a few seconds and then you spoke up again.

“Baby?”

“Yes?”

“I saw you wincing during the game. I don’t like when you wince.”

“I’m okay, really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Joey, don’t give me that. You got hit multiple times. If something happened then…”

“I promise that I’m okay, just a little sore. I already took the motrin that you slipped in my bag for me earlier.”

“Well someone has to do it seeing as you always forget.”

“True, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Stop! Stop being so cute when you’re so far away and I can’t kiss you until you get back, it’s not fair.” You whined and Joe let out a small laugh.

“You can have all the kisses you want once you see me. Promise.”

“Joey? How are you and do not under any circumstances bullshit me right now because I will be on the first flight to Baltimore if you do.”

The deep sigh he let out before giving you a verbal answer was telling.

“Frustrated.”

“Go on.”

“It seems like there is a disconnect somewhere and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Cough your coach Zac Taylor cough.”

“Well, that and there is something else. Just haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

“Can I be honest? You are amazing in your own right and even though I know that you already know this, Joey the last thing I ever want to happen is for you to in lack of better words waste your career for an organization that doesn’t quite seem like they value or care about you. Like, my husband is the shit and I’m not being biased. You are one of the best, if not the best, okay now I’m being biased. But, you’re amazing and I just want so much better for you. Do you know how much it hurts to see you so upset every week that you lose knowing that you show up every time for your team and give 100% while others don’t?”

—

Hearing the front door open from you and Joe’s shared office as you were working on your laptop, you immediately hopped up and ran to the foyer to greet him.

As soon as he spotted you, his bag was thrown to the side as he opened up his arms to embrace you as he placed several kisses on your lips.

When you did bring him in for a hug, once again you saw him wince.

“Joseph….”

“No, stop. I’m fine.”

“Hmm, pull up your shirt.”

“Damn, you want me to fuck you already? I was thinking…” Joe started to say, but you cut him off.

“No! Well yes, but not yet! Lift it.”

“But…”

“NOW.”

Once he did, you saw a black, purple, and blue bruise in the area where his ribs were on the left side and immediately gasped.

“BABY!”

“I’m fine, just a little bruised. I don’t want you to worry yourself.” He told you as he put his shirt back down and grabbed your hand as he kissed the back of it.

“A LITTLE bruise? It literally takes up a very good portion of your torso. And how can I not worry? My husband is a professional football player. Worrying is ingrained in my brain now. It got ingrained when I met you at LSU so stop.”

“Would it make you feel better that I got checked out before we got on our flight to come back home because it was bothering me when I woke up?”

“Yes. Kind of. But still!"

“And I’m fine. I promise like I said, and you're so cute when you worry about me."

"Not cute, I get flustered and pray nothing bad happens to you."

Crossing your arms, you nodded your head as Joe uncrossed them and leaned down to kiss you.

"Nothing is going to happen, and I'm going to need you to relax for me. Now that we got that out of the way, I’m also going to need my wife to lose her clothes.”

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 24 & 26: Against A Wall/Exhibitionism

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Against A Wall/Exhibitionism(✨)

Summary: You and Matt can't wait to have each other.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), dom!Matt, public sex, slight exhibitionism (the window is open, and someone’s behind the door, but no one actively watches; it’s mentioned to be a turn-on though), wall sex, established relationship, use of "good girl", unprotected p in v, no foreplay, not proofread

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: This was originally going to be two separate fics, but I decided to put them together because it works best like this. I didn't want to duplicate the plot, so I just merged them.

Read Me On AO3! (Coming soon)

The bar is bustling around you, but he is the only thing you can focus on. 

His tight jaw, the beard that used to be only a stubble a mere week ago, those hazel eyes hiding behind his red glasses that reflect the neon lights of the many signs Josie has hanging around the place—he looks sinful like this, and you want nothing more than to get on your knees and suck the life out of his cock. 

The condensation from his beer bottle trickles down the back of his hand. Your pussy has memorized the feeling of those thick fingers inside you, your neck yearning to feel them wrapped around your pulse point until you forget how to breathe.

He’s been wound up for weeks. It is rather selfish of you to think that it’s hot when he’s like this, but you can’t help it; this man does unspeakable things to you even when he’s not touching you. 

They won their case today—he and Foggy. He should be enthusiastic, but the tension in his shoulders has yet to fade. He would have said no to his best friend’s offer to get drinks, too, if you hadn’t said yes before he could form a coherent thought. 

He needs you. And you need him, too. He can smell the slick soaking through your lace panties. He can hear your walls clench around nothing as you cross your legs for some friction, and your heart starts to beat faster every time you look at him. 

He knows you are praying to a God you don’t believe in, praying for his hands on you, praying that he will fuck you hard and fast and soon because if he doesn’t, you will lose your mind. 

The glass almost shatters against the table when he sets it down more forcefully than intended. “I, uh, have to use the bathroom,” he says. 

You look up at him. He tilts his head in your direction. As he gets up, his hand brushes over your thigh. It is only a breath, but the contact shoots straight to your weeping core.

Oh. 

Oh.

“Excuse me,” and with his cane clutched tightly, he makes his way through the crowd. 

You empty your glass in one big gulp, giving your friends a strained smile. “I better make sure he gets there,” you say.

“You really think Matt’s gonna get lost?” Foggy retorts with a laugh. “Matt? Come on. Guy’s like a bat.”

You shrug. “Better safe than sorry.”

You can’t wait for another second. Paving your way through the crowd, you make your way to where the bathrooms are.

Only one of the doors is ajar, which you take as your cue to slip in and lock it behind you. For a moment, you wonder if this is even a good idea; people might need this bathroom, but then your back hits the wall, and one look at Matt is enough for you to throw caution to the fucking wind. 

“I missed you,” Matt growls, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. 

You melt under the force of his fire. Greedy hands tear at your dress. Teeth clash in a fight for dominance. No fabric on your body is safe, his hands too eager, too desperate to care about your appearance. If you have to walk around with his cum dripping down your thighs because your panties are too ripped to cover your swollen cunt after this, he will gladly take it. He will take it for just a chance to have you. 

“Jump,” he says, and you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist as he hoists you up. “You know how much I love to hear you moan, but I need you to be quiet this time. Can you do that?”

Your moan comes in the form of a strangled breath, getting caught on your sealed lips before it can escape. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you choke out.

“Good girl.” 

No matter how badly you think he needs you, it is worse. Much worse. His nerves are alight with a near animalistic craving beyond rational thought or reason. His need for you is branded forever into his weary bones, and they continue to ache until he finally has you right where he wants you. 

Until he can finally thrust his cock into your tight pussy and listen to the way your walls grip him so tightly. 

Until he can finally swallow your moans with the force of his lips. 

Until he can drown in the force of your orgasm like a man stuck in the desert for too long. 

Matt unbuckles his belt, freeing his aching cock from the confines of his underwear. Your panties are a long-forgotten afterthought. He pushes the lace aside with two fingers, exposing you to the cold air streaming in from the open window.

“Need you,” he grunts. 

You’re so wet to the touch.

You gasp when his tip bumps against your clit. He misses once, then twice again. His impatience is written into the crease between his brows. Beyond frustrated, you reach for his cock, sliding the thick head between your folds. 

This stoic, assertive force of a man you wanted to maul in the courtroom earlier as the jury gave their verdict of ‘not guilty’ has never looked more like a pathetic mess than he does in the flickering light of the bar bathroom.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust. Matt pushes his hips into yours, burying his cock in your cunt, and the wall almost caves in behind you. The force at which he pounds into you threatens to split your skull open, but oh, you have never felt more alive. 

His face is buried in your neck. You’re all there is. The ghastly smell, the noise, the vibrations of the old water lines, he tunes it all out. His senses zero in on you, the sole object of all his desires. Now that he doesn’t have to focus on anything but you, he can finally breathe again. He can smell your perfume, taste the salt of your sweat trickling down your neck; you consume him.

Matt thrusts into you for just a little more of this intoxicating feeling—the way you’re clenching around him, and how your heart races for him. He aims his cock toward the spot that makes your toes curl in your heels, and he knows before you even feel it. 

A cry threatens to break free from your soul. Matt clasps his hand over your swollen lips to silence you. You choke on it, rumbling like thunder in your chest. 

It takes everything in you not to scream anyway. Not to moan. Not to cry out how good he feels. Right there, you want to say. Right there, don’t fucking stop. He drags his cock in and out of your pussy, though he never really pulls all the way out before he’s lost himself in you again.

The doorhandle rattles. He doesn’t stop. 

You whimper. “Matthew…”

“Shh,” Matt coos.  

Another rattle. “Is someone in there?” someone asks from the other side. 

You look at the door, but before you can tell him to stop—stop because you don’t want anyone seeing you this way—his cock brushes against your G-spot. Your eyes roll back into your skull. Your words melt like candle wax on your tongue.

He pulls you down to meet him, your clit dragging deliciously over his skin. You’re losing it. 

Only a few inches away, a stranger is trying to get into the bathroom, waiting, and it only spurs him on. 

You bite into his palm. 

You are so close, and even if someone were to break down this stupid door, you would probably still fall apart. Because the thought of getting caught being fucked so perfectly by the man of your dreams turns you on more than it should.

He puts his lips to your ear. “Ignore them,” he says. “Focus on me.”

Your walls clamp around his cock. 

“Good girl. I want you to come for me. Can you do that?”

He thrusts harder. Faster. Deeper. Deeper. 

You can’t stop yourself from moaning his name as the wave crashes into you, and Matt does the only thing he can think of that won’t give you away; he captures your lips in a bruising kiss that splits your bottom lip in two. 

He drinks your blood like a vampire, drowning out his own grunt as his hips stutter and he spills into you. You’ve missed him so much. 

Your orgasm has barely subsided when he pulls out of you, placing you back on your own two feet. The world is spinning. 

“Wh–” you stutter. 

He shushes you, index finger against your lips as he pulls your panties back on. His cum trickles out of your pussy into the fabric. You can still feel him so deep inside you. 

“We’re going home,” he says. 

“But–”

“I’m not done with you. We’re gonna take a cab,” he cups your face, “I’m gonna take you home, and I’m not gonna stop touching you until you’re covered in my cum.”

Your knees buckle. 

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe. 

He has the audacity to look smug about it. “That’s my girl.”

Walking through Josie’s stuffed to the brim with his cum is a strangely erotic thought, but you know that the night has only just begun, and by the time he is done with you, you won’t even be able to remember your name. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[discursiverecursion]

Psst... Queer American fam...

A lot of us are in survival mode right now, and who knows how long that is going to last. An onslaught could begin the first day, or it could be relatively quiet until a storm breaks, so our background stress/anxiety levels are going to be high, and some of the effects of excess circulating cortisol include anxiety, depression, trouble sleeping, headaches, digestive problems, and problems with memory and focus.

It’s normal to be struggling right now.

It means you’re human.

I know this sounds bad, but I’m restating a thing I think many people already know, because the thing is, a common tactic of the Right is to put people in a stressful situation and then blame them for their response to it (I’ve seen this referred to in other contexts as “reactive trauma”). As queer folks and people being targeted, we might think we are immune to this, but it works more insidiously than that. It can tear us apart, and it plays out like the following:

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As violence towards our community escalates, they will start publically pointing at things “we are doing” that are “causing” the escalation. 

They will use this term “we”, because they don’t understand that we are not homogeneous.

Sometimes we ourselves, as individuals, will not be part of that “we”. 

It will be terrifying, in that moment, to have rights stripped away (or worse) without having any perceived control, and that lack of control will feel like it is due to the actions of another being blamed on you. 

DON’T FALL FOR IT THOUGH!

This is misdirection. They do not have to hurt us, even if we are loudly gay, even if we protest the ways they are hurting us already.

Please, please don’t let yourself get to a safe place and wonder why others aren’t hiding. You are allowed to keep yourself safe. In fact, I encourage it, but please remember that those of us fighting this thing publicly are not the enemy. We need your support and solidarity.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

We are a big family with many different survival strategies:

We don't all have to utilize the same one

We don't have to stick with our original choice over time

We are not bound to only using one at a time

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m going to end this with a list of some survival strategies found in nature, because I'm definitely rambling and this was the thought I actually started typing this post with:

Do you recognize any of your own strategies in the list below?

Do you recognize any that are the opposite?

Can you hold that we are all in this together coping in our own ways, that we are not each others’ enemies?

Can you remember that "health" is a social construct, and that a strategy doesn't have to be the "best" one for it to be functional for the time being to keep someone alive?

I hope you can, because we will need each other to get through the coming years.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

STRATEGIES:

Becoming a spore (more info) - Shutting down completely for a bit - Sleeping more - Building mental walls

Playing dead (more info) - Retreating from social life  - Retreating from social media - Missing work

Camouflage (more info) - Going back in the closet - Codeswitching - Becoming extremely quiet

Mimicry of a more dangerous creature (more info) - Being argumentative/loud - Being assertive - Presenting even more queerly

Nocturnality (more info) - Nocturnality - Avoiding people - Staying in a social bubble

Distraction (more info) - Drag - Hacking - Certain forms of protest

Pursuit-Deterrent Signals (more info) - Making oneself needed - Feigning compliance - Presenting in “stealth” mode

Mobbing (more info) - Protests - Taking down websites - Coworker solidarity to create workspace change

Staying in the middle of a group (more info) - Being in community support networks - Going to therapy - Getting to know your neighbors

Sounding an alarm (more info) - Being loud on social media - Being loud in the workplace - Naming the quiet parts out loud

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Cat Nap | SFW

Just a quick thing I wrote up before work because I'm brain rotting on cat men rn. Also Grammarly corrected this one so hopefully there's no typos but I'm already running late for work so I ain't got time so ENJOY.

Pairings: Xavier x Reader Warnings: Cat Xavier Fluff Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The door to your apartment opened with the smallest click; the noise echoed through it, causing Xavier’s ears to twitch as they perked up. He had been lying contently on the couch, curled up with a pillow held against his chest while the sun bore down just right on him. He let out a yawn as he tried to peer over to the entryway, hearing the rustling of keys and your shoes as you took them off and put them over by the door. His tail swayed lazily behind him as he propped his chin on the armrest of the soda, just waiting to see your form coming around the corner.

The soft padding of your feet drew nearer until he could finally see you. He didn’t realize he had been tensed up when he heard the door, but it was apparent the moment his entire body became more relaxed as you slowly approached him. He wanted attention, and that was for sure, and you were always more than happy to give it to him.

“Are you really taking a nap again? Weren’t you asleep when I left for work earlier?” you asked with a laugh, running your hands through his hair. He was almost purring when your hand came into contact with one of his ears, your touch gentle as you scratched right behind it.

“I can’t help it; you turned me into a cat,” Xavier said, leaning up into your palm. While it was true that you accidentally turned him into a cat boy three days ago using a new evol wand that you got as a prize, he was still always taking naps. Nothing really had changed other than the fact that he wasn’t going to work until he was back to normal, which would depend on when the wand would finish being repaired, as it broke the moment you used it.

You laughed, pinching the tip of his ear, and he let out a gasp, ducking his head more into the cushions. His blue eyes watched your hand with keen interest, almost wondering if you’d be doing it again. His ears were sensitive, and you knew that. It was why you had so much fun playing with them in the first place. “Really, again?” Xavier mumbled. He could see as you slowly came around to the other side of the sofa, sitting down on it and relaxing into the cushions.

Xavier didn’t even bother asking as he got closer to you and placed his head right onto your lap. His ears twitched as he looked at you, waiting for you to pet him. A small laugh escaped you as you went back to playing with his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp. This time, a nice, subtle purr came from his chest as he melted into your touch, savoring every moment of it.

“You know, I think in another life, you were a cat.” You mentioned noticing just how content he was despite the current situation. He really was just a sleepy cat who was always wanting your attention. Just the other night, he had been rubbing up against you until you finally gave him and cuddled with him. He was adorable, and you almost wished the wand would never be fixed so you could keep this version of Xavier forever.

Xavier grabbed your wrist and placed the palm of your hand against his cheek, nuzzling into it as he closed his eyes. You watched his nose wiggle a bit as he sniffed your scent; the faint floral smell invaded his senses, the same perfume that Tara had accidentally gotten on you earlier that day. “I like this smell.” He murmured, licking right on your wrist.

“I wish I could tell you what it was.” You laughed, “Tara was trying to spray herself, but the nuzzle was pointed at me. I used my arms to block my face, and it got all over them.” This got a laugh from Xavier as he continued to lick at your wrist. A small shiver went down your spine at the odd sensation. His tongue wasn’t dry like a cat, so it was still a bit slimy and left a wet trail over the skin there.

“Having fun?” you finally asked after a moment. His eyes finally opened and flicked over to you. You then watched as he gently nipped at your wrist just enough to have you flinching back, “Ow, Xayxay…” you said, the ending of his nickname coming out as a whine, ���Did you really have to bite me?”

“I’m just a cat; what do you want from me.” He had a small pout on his lips and you could see the way his tail was swaying happily behind him. You shook your head and adjusted yourself; Xavier let out a small whine at your new position, trying to get comfortable again.

“You know, we could just cuddle in bed. I wouldn’t mind a nap after work.” You said, looking at the clock. It was only three in the afternoon since you had to go into the office extremely early. It was nice to get off at a normal, human hour instead of late at night after fighting wanderers all day.

Xavier didn’t bother responding. Instead, his hand was seeking out your own again. You moved it out of his reach, and you watched him go for it again. His new quirks were always amusing, and you were wondering briefly just how cat-like he could get. If he’d be like this for another day, perhaps you’d invest in a laser point. You let him take your hand again, and he kissed your palm, his ears flat against his head as he looked at you with a pleading expression.

“Lay down here with me.” He said, his tone almost coming out a little whiny. You sighed as you adjusted again, getting him off your lap as you lay down. His head found your chest where he relaxed, his arms around your torso like you were a giant plushie, “This is better…”

“Alright, but we’re only napping for a little. We still need to get dinner ready.” You reminded him, but you were only met with the gentle sound of his snoring as he passed out on you.

[lover-of-mine]

what are your thoughts on nde for either eddie or buck in 8x08? me personally, im thinking buck is gonna get the nde, and i think he’s gonna be shot. tim recreating s4/5 when he originally wanted to do buddie, but what im thinking, is buck realizes his feelings for eddie but doesn’t want to/doesn’t know if he should tell him, then he gets shot and it’s all dramatic and eddie is there and freaking out, trying to save him and keep him alive (aka why they’re pushing medic eddie so much this season) and buck realizes this might be his last chance so he just goes for it anyway and while he’s bleeding out he tells eddie he loves him�� i know this is probably not what’s gonna happen but lol i just enjoy theories and i always love to hear what you think!

adding onto this, i ALSO saw around twitter the theory that buck would get a nde, but he gets hit by a car or just in a car accident in general, and eddie is there and it parallels shannon’s death (obviously buck doesn’t die but you get the memo😆)

Hi, darling! Okay, I don't mean to shit on anyone's specs, but I think either of them getting shot again would be so uninspired. The show is slowly reintroducing new ways to pull the triggers they put down for buddie because they need to address the stuff that happened to them somehow, but a direct mirrored parallel to the shooting wouldn't work as well as everyone seems to think it would. Partially because I think that forcing Buck to confess because he (or Eddie) is dying is yet another way to take away Buck's agency and further attach Buck to the idea he's only worthy of love when someone bleeds. But also because putting one of them in the position to be doing the saving again won't really further their storyline. Eddie watched Buck in a nde twice, the bombing and the lightning, and Buck watched Eddie in a nde twice, the well and the shooting, and I think they need a combined trigger, aka a combined nde.

I am attached to my drown Buck theory, have them off duty, crash the car, end up trapped and the car filling with water, but I also think that the trapped dads theory also works a lot here, especially if you put them both in the situation while off duty, aka without gear or backup, and you can play with a lot of elements of every nde before that and create a catalyst for them to talk and figure themselves out. I also think everyone is getting ahead of themselves, I don't think they are in the place to get that catalyst yet, and 2 episodes are not enough to get them there when we are talking about an ensemble show. I feel like people are expecting a direct callback because we got a well callback and are getting a lightning callback, but while buddie was front and center during the well callback, they actually used it to further Chim at first. It works to get the audience thinking about different aspects of their past, which in turn makes it so that when they talk about it, it will be in our minds, but it doesn't explicitly address the implications with buddie. I think the lightning callback will be a lot about reminding Buck of whatever it was that he was supposed to learn with it the first time around that they never truly explored due to the network switch and Natalia not coming back. I also think that confronting the situation where Buck almost died and possibly watching a freshly heartbroken Buck be impulsive can push Eddie to look at some stuff that would push him into action to figure himself out.

Especially if @stagefoureddiediaz ends up right and the lightning callback ends up being a truck bombing callback too since the well callback is also a subtle callback to the kids on the cliff call in 304 and could be played into different directions when it comes to what comes out from it moving forward. Buddie has a lot to talk about, but they need a reason to think about the stuff they need to talk about on their own before getting to a point where they can actually have those conversations. I think they rely too much on how well they understand each other that they fail to consider the way they can't actually read each other's minds, and figuring that part out is important before pushing them to the catalyst. And please don't get me wrong, I'm like, 90% sure that the catalyst will be another nde, I just don't think it's gonna happen until 8b.

[bicheetopuff]

Prompts for puff:

I have a few prompts you might like to write about! Some follow cannon, others are AUs (I don’t know if you have a pref o_O) Feel free to edit these to your own ideas

Pirate AU: Class 1a are pirates, taking on the seven seas. But what happens when the League of Voyagers (a vicious rival pirate group) attack them, leaving them stranded on a mysterious island?

Shojou manga! Izuku finds Katsuki’s collection of shojou manga and reads it. Izuku discovers that Katsuki had been using phrases/tropes in the manga when talking to him. With this info, Izuku resorts to flirting the hell out of Katsuki. (Aka, Izuku finds out that Katsuki is in love with him and proceeds to romance him to the grave)

Villain Deku AU (hear me out), but it’s told from the perspective of Izuku from cannon who fell into the villain AU and helps Nedzu, Tsugauchi & Class 1A find and take down !villain Deku, all while Katsuki (from cannon) is finding ways to get him back. (Bonus points if !Villain Au Baku makes Izuku realise he is in love with him)

Hatsume’s rings of doom: in which hatsume makes thought-sharing rings using quirk technology & makes Izuku + Katsuki test them out. The rings do not come off. Help them.

RealityTV AU: Where the promising young heroes of Class 1A get a segment on the hit show HEROES 4 HIRE: a reality show in which heroes are called to do domestic jobs like babysitting and beach cleaning. Izuku and Katsuki have been paired and will spend the entirety of the show bound together by the hands (at least when the cameras are running).

Streamer AU: (def not original but whatever) Katsuki is a famous streamer, known for shaking up the gaming world with his aggressive play style and notorious attitude, but how will the sweet, funny and precious cinnamon roll that is Deku react when he gets placed into a raging tournament with katsuki? (Extra: Izuku is a badass and creates one of the most influential dynamics with Katsuki, who is ecstatic that someone can match his freak)

My personal fav TIME TRAVEL AU: This prompt can go many ways (AND I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS OMGSVFSNBDJSVS) but I’ll just pick one: Somehow, Izuku (who just got done fighting Muscular for the first time) gets transported to his middle school class, chaos ensues. (Katsuki is beyond concerned for Deku, but needs to get his head out of his ass before trying to reach out) How will Izuku handle being ripped from his time?

Hope these help. And it sucks that you are surrounded by Trump supporters, honestly fuck them. I want to cremate him and put him in a firework that explodes and says “EQUAL RIGHTS”, or smth like that.

(p.s. you are one of my favourite authors EVER and I go insane when I read your stuff. Literally frothing at the mouth rn)

Hi, thank you for the prompts! It makes me really happy that you like my fics <3

I probably won’t use all of these (at least not immediately because I’m kind of a slow writer. But I also do have a preference, I like to write canon compliant stuff so I don’t think I’d have the skill set to write the pirate, villain deku, and streamer AUs, though I do think they’re cool ideas to keep in mind for later!), but the Shoujo Manga, Ring of Doom, and Reality TV AUs sound hilarious, I’m definitely using those.

I really like time travel AUs, but I will say I do already have one planned. It’s like a continuation of another fic but I plan on making it long so I’m not working on it rn. I’m not sure how long exactly, but at least over 50k words so it’s definitely something for the future!

And yeah I think I can speak for every queer person of color who lives in the south, being here right now is kind of spooky if you don’t live in a big city. Luckily, I do live in the city, but my city is big enough to still have its fair share of bigots. I’m worried, but at the same time I have a lot of faith in our community, and I’m sure we’ll all make it out okay. I will say though, I’ve had to unfollow and block so many friends from high school over the past few days… it’s unfortunate but I’d rather that than have someone in my life who doesn’t believe I deserve to exist. But other than that, writing and creating stuff is a good distraction for now :)

[sskk-manifesto]

Finally got around to watching ep 11 (´；ω；｀)

[quatregats]

WIP guessing game! slang, slander, slay

These are truly making me dredge through every draft of every ill-advised fic that I have ever written, apparently I only use like three words 😅

I couldn't find a single use of "slang" in anything which I'm deeply disappointed in myself for...faking the being attuned to linguistic factors for attention I guess...

SLANDER

From a very random draft of The Creative Endeavor AKA 4-3-3 AKA my modern Aubreyad football AU (the normal kind of football not the American kind in case the 4-3-3 does not immediately ring bells) - this is from about two years ago, and I promise I have learned to write them better in the interim:

“Hmm,” Stephen said, raising his eyebrows. “Well, that certainly explains why you were comparing him to a weasel.” “I hope you're not offended. It was the first animal that came to my mind.” “No, no. Better Mustela nivalis, whose crimes are based in true animosity, than, say, the unjustifiable slander against snakes. But you were saying something about Harte, I believe?”

SLAY

From like, the first draft of my very strange Stephen/Jack "Famous Flower of Serving Men" crossover. Yes like the folk ballad. Don't ask, it will not get any clearer, but I'm unsurprised that this word showed up in it since it shows up in the original song

Late that night, a band of brigands set forth from the back gate of the royal castle. It was a company of the worst sort of men—thieves and murderers who would slay a sleeping babe without the slightest prick of conscience. They had received their orders from the upstart lord: do away with the bastard child, and they would be rewarded generously.

Thank you for putting me through my paces!

(Also side note but if the actual first draft of 4-3-3 were typed in a document and not like 100+ pages of handwritten scrawl I might be able to answer way more of these. Alas it is not :/, it remains in the notebook, untyped, but that's how Patrick O'Brian would have wanted it.)

[trans-axolotl]

what do you mean reverse an overdose? How is that possible?

Hi anon.

So, in my most recent post where I was talking about reversing overdoses, I was talking about Narcan (naloxone).

Narcan is a medicine that can reverse opioid overdoses. It works on any opioids, including fentanyl, heroin, oxy, vicodin, etc. It isn't effective in reversing other kinds of drug overdoses, but would still work to reduce an overdose if your coke has fent in it, for example. It functions by blocking the opioid receptors in your brain and helps restore breathing. Narcan is not a dangerous medication, and it is not harmful to your brain, which means you can be dosed multiple times without increasing harm to your body. The experience of being Narcaned can be pretty fucking shitty, because it basically puts your body in withdrawal super super fast, and you might experience some of the effects of withdrawal like vomiting, body aches and chills, fatigue, etc. But there are not other harmful side effects outside of that. Narcan is safe to give to people of all ages, including children.

Narcan comes in both an nasal spray and intramuscular injections, but it's usually easier to get access to nasal spray. This is what Narcan looks like:

[ID: Someone holding a narcan nasal spray, which has a nozzle that can be placed into someone's nose, and a plunger underneath the nozzle that can be pushed up to administer a dose. Text on the image says: Do not test nasal spray device before use. Each device contains 1 dose of medicine. Each device sprays one time only.]

How to Use Narcan

Identify signs of Overdose

Check for Responsiveness

Administer Narcan

Support (other friends/911/medics)

To administer Narcan, you first need to identify if someone is overdosing. Signs of an opioid overdose can be when someone is unconscious, unresponsive, not breathing or slowly breathing, no pulse or erratic pulse, has pinpoint pupils, and/or has blue lips.

If you see some of these things and think that someone is overdosing, the next step is to check for responsiveness. You can do this by loudly calling the person's name, saying that you are going to Narcan them, gently shaking them, and by performing a sternum rub, which is where you rub your knuckles into the place in someone's chest where their ribs meet. If they're breathing and they respond, even if it's just making noises in response to you or physically pushing your hands away, that can be a sign that you don't need to administer Narcan right away. Still, in that case, it's a really good idea to stay with that person in case that changes. If, and only if, the person is completely unresponsive, you should administer Narcan.

Once you've determined that someone is unresponsive and overdosing, the next step is actually administering Narcan. Narcan comes in packs of two nasal sprays. Take the first nasal spray out of the box, put the nozzle in the person's nose, and press the plunger. If the person is still not responsive after 2-3 minutes, take the other nasal spray out of the box and give them another dose. I try to use the lowest number of doses possible to try to reduce the withdrawal experience, and I stop giving Narcan once someone is breathing and responsive. If they still are not responsive or breathing, and you know how to give rescue breaths, you can start administering rescue breaths. If you have to step away for any reason, turn the person on their side in the recovery position first.

After someone's overdose is reversed, it's really important that whenever possible, someone stays with them for at least an hour afterwards. Narcan is active in the body for about 30-90 minutes, so depending on what someone's original amount of opioids was, they might start overdosing again and need you to give them Narcan again. This is also why it can be important to try not to use again right away, which is really fucking shitty when you're trying to use cause you don't want to be sick, but unfortunately using right away can also put you at risk of overdosing again. When people come back after getting Narcaned, it can be a pretty disorienting and uncomfortable experience. You might not know who Narcaned you or why they're in your space, might be feeling really fucking shitty because of withdrawal, and might want to be left alone. If you've just Narcaned someone, introduce yourself and explain that you just gave them Narcan, listen to what they tell you, empathize with their feelings, respect people's boundaries, and give them space if they ask for it. Understand that they're probably feeling pretty fucking shitty in their body, that it fucking sucks when your high gets ruined, and they (justifiably) might not feel happy about the fact that you Narcaned them.

Pretty much all Narcan trainings will tell you that it's "recommended" to always call 911, but we all know that this is not always actually possible in a lot of situations and that cops always fucking make the situation worse. My policy is that I always, always ask for consent before calling 911 and if someone says no, then we brainstorm other ways of keeping safe and we don't fucking call the cops. If there's a situation where I do need to call 911, I never tell the operator that someone overdosed, because that usually gets them to send out the cops alongside ambulance, which can cause delays to care, put a lot of people at risk, and also put people, including bystanders, in legal danger. If I have to call 911, I say that my friend has collapsed/fainted/isn't breathing and keep it more vague, and when paramedics actually arrive on the scene, that's when I tell them more information about the overdose, what drugs someone took, and how many times I've administered Narcan.

You can get free Narcan a lot of places. Next Distro has resources for getting free Narcan by mail for almost every state. If there's harm reduction orgs in your area, they will have free Narcan. There's also a lot of Department of Health programs for free Narcan. Most pharmacies now also have Narcan available over the counter, but that's usually really fucking expensive and often pretty hard to shoplift cause they keep locking it up.

Even if you don't use drugs and you think that your loved ones don't use drugs, it's super important to have Narcan as a part of your first aid kit and learn how to use it. You never know when you're going to need to use it, and it's super good to be prepared ahead of time, in case your friend/family/neighbor/classmate/coworker ends up overdosing while you're there. Or in case you end up overdosing and having Narcan on you means that bystanders can help support you through it.

Here's a guide that goes a little more in depth into how to use Narcan.

Please feel free to ask if you have any other questions about Narcan or other harm reduction topics!

[seraphdreams]

JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ♡

TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.

there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.

and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.

his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.

inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.

“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.

it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.

“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.

“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.

pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.

maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”

with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.

it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.

your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.

“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”

GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.

when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.

gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.

“you ready to get started?”

your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.

of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.

after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.

“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”

his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.

“thank you,”

he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?

“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”

“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”

gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.

“i think .. i think i need you.”

with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.

it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.

his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.

yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,

“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”

CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.

a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.

he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.

“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.

there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.

the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.

yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.

“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”

oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.

he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.

violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.

“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.

choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.

you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.

it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.

though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.

staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.

from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.

“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”

it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.

GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.

you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.

geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.

“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.

you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”

if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.

“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?

or so you thought.

“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”

you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.

he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”

you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“

“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”

from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.

with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.

you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.

“if you do t-that, i might—“

and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.

“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”

[neoanedotheart]

Lazy thing i wanted to do!!! they're just silly :3

I think dave is a pretty princess and John is awkward

I'll be yapping below

I believe that Dave texts John right after he gets his ass handed to him DAILY. It usually plays out like this where they banter and Dave never really goes through the extent of explaining what thoroughly happens to him so John lives in forever ignorant bliss. And this leads Dave to feel like there's more of disconnect because he first of all doesn't really know how to articulate his feelings and second abuse doesn't seem like abuse to the victim. So he goes about everyday unknowingly yearning to be saved by someone greater than him, which is why I put the snow white reference at the end hehe.

Snow white as a fairy tale is extremely cliche, you got the prince in shining armor showing up conveniently on a horse and saving the girl. There's always this hierarchy placed upon the story where the damsel in distress is saved by a man, that man being portrayed as a greater being.

And with John taking place as the prince in this context paints him as this greater being. And I feel like a part of Dave envies and despises John for being this way, for being "perfect" or in a way. Greater than him.

The thing is in the original snow white story she's unconscious, that's undesirable. But it adds to the desperation of wanting to be saved, shining a better looking light on a person who isn't really there for reasons you want them to be. However John is a sincere person, it's more so the lack of communication or true understanding of one another that leads to this rift, this belief that John isn't there for Dave because he loves him, but because he's his friend and it's John's duty as a friend to save him. Which also brings me to the last line where Dave never corrects himself, and how he insinuates that he'll be unconscious due to being placed in a glass coffin much like snow white was when she was poisoned. He's at this stage where he doesn't want to be saved by an outer source, a greater person than him. He wants to be saved by himself he wants to prove worthy, but then conflicting within his mind is also this idea he isn't good enough to. We all know that Dave believes he isn't a hero and explicitly states John is the hero multiple times throughout homestuck. So he stays waiting.

John however, refers to Dave as Cinderella, Cinderella gets abused and put through plenty of torture from her step sisters and is saved through marriage of some person she just met. There's still this base line of being saved by man however there's this more mutual understanding of what they're getting into, a similar yearn for one another. Though he never caught her name he was still willing to find her, the real her. Which is John in this case, he probably understands he's missing something in the big picture but can never find out what and the best he can do is hope that the other half still held on to what they once were and was willing to share.

This is a pre-sburb interaction btw they're just unknowingly foreshadowing a shit ton.

Sorry if there's like bad shitty writing in here, I'm rambling and it's like almost midnight hehe

[hedgehog-moss]

In previous years I've tried uprooting small fir trees in my woods to use as Christmas trees, making sure to be gentle in the process and keep as much of their root system as I could, but when I replanted them in the woods later it just never worked. The trees didn't appreciate being treated like this, so last year I didn't even try replanting my Christmas tree and just fed it to the llamas (who did appreciate.)

I meant to do the same this year, and on my to-do list this week I had "cut a Christmas tree" and "get rid of 10m2 of broom plants" (this is on my to-do list in perpetuity. They grow so rampantly, if I didn't fight back there would be no pasture left.)

^ But then after I went and cut a bunch of horrible brooms I thought, well this is absurd, I'm going to kill a perfectly nice fir tree that I have no beef with, to have something green in my living-room for Christmas, when I could humiliate my plant nemesis by festooning its slain offspring with tinsel? I mean, shrubs are green. They fit the bill. I bet with a star on top they could pass for a Christmas tree.

At first I tried to cut a tall and large broom, then poke holes in its trunk with my drill to stick smaller broom branches in there like this: \o/ to give it a rough Christmas tree shape. It didn't work. Brooms as it turns out are extremely dense and fibrous and my drill didn't like drilling into them one bit.

So I lowered my expectations, and started gathering a big bouquet of younger brooms (the only positive aspect of broom invasiveness is that I have an infinite number of shrubs to experiment on. I cut a half dozen of them to try and drill holes into them and by the time I gave up, another two dozen had grown back in their place). I tied up my broom bouquet into something vaguely reminiscent of a fir and, I mean, with a star, it sort of looks the part?

I had to do the tying-up part several times, because the pretty and festive golden string I initially used was too weak. This bouquet of broom branches may look placid and easygoing in photographs, but when tied together tightly, it is determined to free itself.

But I managed to tame it using hay bale string. It didn't look happy with its fate, but I mean, it's a broom shrub. Its only ambition in life is to conquer as much pasture territory as possible and add it to its broom empire. It does not want to be a decorative plant in a living-room.

Take any historical figure who was mainly known as a ruthless conqueror and try to picture turning him into a Christmas tree. He won't look happy about it.

I ended up making two Christmas Brooms, one for the greenhouse and one for my living-room. The greenhouse one was originally meant for the living-room, but it was made up of particularly obstinate Pampe-like branches and I was worried one of my cats would poke it and the "tree" would suddenly break its chains in an explosion of vegetal triumph and traumatise the cat.

It may look like a peaceful Christmas Yew in the below pic, but don't underestimate its very strong desire to free itself from even the tough hay bale string, which forced me to use my garlands to tie it up some more, wrapping them around the "tree" less loosely and festively than usual. But I put my biggest star on top and that means it looks like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree with a restraining order.

This tree is held together with tinsel, threats, and Christmas magic.

In the dark and from afar you really can't tell it's a bunch of unruly invasive shrubs tied together <3 And here's the much thinner and therefore less angry version in my living-room:

It was tilting to the left somewhat worryingly so I put a heavy stuffed hedgehog at the bottom to stabilise it, and a mountain goat at the top to dissuade it. All hands on deck. They both look somewhat petrified, like they are begging the faux-tree to remain a tree for the duration of the holidays...

Thus ends my Christmas Broom journey. It was a bit of a pain to set up but at least an innocent fir out there got to escape a grim fate (devoured by llamas), and a small gang of invasive shrubs get to be looked at with approval and joy for the first time in their life. It's a win-win.

[sunderwight]

Imagining a scenario where Shen Qingqiu clocks some of the lingering tension between the peak lords and Luo Binghe after they get married, and so looks up what all the rights & privileges of a peak lord's spouse are (because really only the ascetic peak has restrictions against marriage), and then just like. Heaps them onto Binghe.

Fine robes and ornaments in Qing Jing's style. A title. Appropriate authority over Shen Qingqiu's disciples and junior sect siblings. Technically Binghe is also entitled to use of his own residence, and there's a building on the peak that is at least nominally reserved for the peak lord's wife, but it hasn't been used in a long time and Binghe would cry if Shen Qingqiu even suggested living in separate buildings (and Shen Qingqiu would also not like it but shhh). So he doesn't get that, exactly, but Shen Qingqiu does have the building freshened up and aired out as a place where Binghe can house guests from the demon realms, or potentially his own personal disciples (should he desire to take any on one day).

Binghe accompanies Shen Qingqiu to peak lord meetings in his capacity as husband, rather than disciple, which means Binghe also gets to sit at the table instead of standing behind Shen Qingqiu's seat.

But really just, Shen Qingqiu making a point of doing everything extremely officially to really drive home that he married Binghe, and he expects Binghe to be treated with respect and not suspicion or derision or any of the other bad habits that his fellow peak lords have displayed. Not just with Binghe, but also towards the original goods in the past (SJ might have been a piece of work, but the fact also remains that most of what his sect siblings thought of him was inaccurate). SQQ scraping up every bit of political acumen he can find from all the books he read and PIDW itself and his own history as the son of a wealthy family, and being like, "if I don't want Binghe to be bullied, I must make it clear that he has my favor!"

Meanwhile everyone already knows Luo Binghe is Shen Qingqiu's favorite, like man they know it so much already, more than they'd like to, but it's not like they can SAY anything because actually putting the right hair ornament onto Luo Binghe's head and making the disciples address him as Shimu is in fact more appropriate than all the other ways Shen Qingqiu displayed his favoritism so far. It's just driving several of the other peak lords slowly insane because it's backwards! The order of things is all messed up! Shen Qingqiu can't truly expect them to start respecting this disgraceful mess of a relationship now, can he?!

Of course he can. Also Yue Qingyuan is backing him up. (Yue Qingyuan actually finds this kind of amusing, because it's very on-brand for both versions of Shen Qingqiu to get embroiled in a controversial mess only to retroactively go "oh yeah, respectability politics are a thing" and then just try and brazenly bluff his way through it.)

Meanwhile Binghe is very much enjoying himself. Could he stop anyone in the sect from actually mistreating him in a heartbeat? Of course. He could kill any of them, they all know it, and Binghe is not unaware of how to leverage that kind of fear into compliance, if not respect. But then he'd have to go stalking around being tyrannical all the time, and he does that enough as the demon emperor.

It's far more enriching to let people be rude to him and then hang his head and "nobly endure" the mistreatment, just to watch Shen Qingqiu's eyes narrow and his fan snap shut before he lets out some cutting remark and then lavishes another sign of his favor onto Luo Binghe. Binghe's wildest teenage fantasies were made of this stuff! He's living the dream!

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~ part 2

Part 1 - Master list

Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 

He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 

Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 

He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 

His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 

The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 

When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 

The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 

Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 

What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?

“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 

“Just Phantom is fine.” 

Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 

He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 

“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 

“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 

“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 

“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 

“Not if it’s your name.” 

“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 

“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 

Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 

“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 

“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 

“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 

They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 

Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 

Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 

“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 

Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 

Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 

“Yes, but not this Earth.” 

Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 

“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 

“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 

“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 

There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  

When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 

“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 

Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 

Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 

“Of course.” 

Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 

Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 

“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 

“Eighteen.” Tim said. 

“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 

“The bridge?” 

“Balance. The living and the dead.” 

Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  

Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 

“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 

Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 

Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 

“Exactly.” 

“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 

“Exactly.” 

Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 

“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 

“I’ll put them at ease then.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 

“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 

It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 

Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 

“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 

They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 

He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 

The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 

“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 

“You cook?” 

“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 

Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 

Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 

“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 

“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 

Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 

Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 

“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 

“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 

It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 

They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 

He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 

“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 

“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”

“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 

“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 

Tim stared, “What?” 

Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 

“Yeah?” 

The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 

They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 

“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”

The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 

Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 

“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 

Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 

“I gotta kill my brother…” 

Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.

“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 

“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 

“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 

Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 

“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…

[deadsetobsessions]

“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.

“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”

“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”

Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.

“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”

Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.

“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”

“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”

Danny paused. God dammit.

“…Fine.”

“YESSSSSS!!!!”

——

Danny-

“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

-is so damn tired.

“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”

Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”

Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”

“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.

Danny chimed in.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”

Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”

Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.

“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”

“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”

Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”

They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.

But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.

“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.

Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”

“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”

“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.

“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.

“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”

“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”

"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.

"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."

"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.

"Should we be encouraging that?"

"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.

"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."

"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.

"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"

Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.

“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”

Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”

“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”

“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”

“Sure.”

Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.

“No. Bad Tim.”

“Awww, come on Danny!”

[racingghost]

The FIA Prize Giving 2018 gala was an insane night for Simi, and I want to share all of it!

First, the elephant in the room:

Kimi was absolutely hammered! He caught everyone's eye because he was tumbling around the place, and generally having a blast yapping his mouth off to anyone who would listen to him. Legends said he would do this when drunk, but never had a live audience been witness to it.

Meanwhile, Seb...

Seb had finished second to Lewis in 2018's title battle, and was also seeing the end of his partnership with Kimi at Ferrari.

Kimi's renewal for Ferrari was always rumored to be something Seb pushed for when negotiating his own contracts, so the news the Scuderia wasn't interested in keeping Kimi past 2018 were a sign that Sebastian's wants weren't of huge importance to them anymore, and they were making way for a promising young talent (Leclerc) to take the lead driver role in Ferrari in the years to come.

Sounds like a bad end of the year for a guy with title aspirations, but guess what?

Kimi was there, with so much booze in his system that he wasn't at all worried with maintaining his quiet and taciturn act. And you know how they say alcohol lowers your inhibitions and makes your deepest thoughts come out freely?

That night, Kimi had one mission, and it was to keep Seb happy.

When he caught cameras filming Seb, knowing his friend was a private guy, he jumped in and tried to stop them. Look at his face. He doesn't know what he's doing. He's driven only by protective instinct.

When Seb talked, you could tell he wasn't hearing a word (and at times it seemed mutual)

For a bit there, the cameras even caught Kimi deciding to go for a smoke, and Seb trying to impinge a sense of responsibility on him, only to end up being dragged along.

When they were called on stage to receive the 2nd and 3rd place trophies, it was the funniest shit. There were designated spots on the stage where each driver should stand, but they were quite apart from each other.

You can see an official trying to stop Kimi and take him to his marked spot, but Kimi strode straight towards Seb and stuck decisively by his side. In fact he gestures at Seb, as if telling the crowd to give him his accolades!

His arm was around his shoulders, half offering companionship in what would be their last official act together as teammates, and half supporting himself so he wouldn't fall on his ass on stage.

And of course, we even had a classic Seb moment, where Kimi offered one of the men delivering the awards a handshake, and Seb took it instead. Kimi didn't even care, he rolled with it, because if Seb wants to hold his hand, god damn it he will.

Even when they had to part to grab the awards, Kimi made sure to return to his original favored position of keeping one friendly arm around Sebastian's shoulders asap.

You see Seb turn to him and say something...

It's impossible to tell what, but it looked an awful lot like a "thank you" that carried years of friendship and support behind it. Kimi's eyes transformed at whatever Seb said. his eyebrows lifted and his expression softened.

He told him something to his ear in return, and it made Seb smile again, whatever it was.

Eventually it was Lewis' time to get on stage. He was the 2018 champion, the guy Seb didn't manage to beat, and as such had the right to make a victory speech.

As he does so, the camera caught the losers, Seb and Kimi.

In that moment, that could have hurt a little harder than usual, Kimi put his arm around Seb's shoulders one more time, downed another drink, and swung him closer.

This was it.

This was the end of their partnership.

Simi, nobody will ever do it like you.