#but I don't think he'd be able to get out this on his own

[simplykaren]

My brain keeps chewing on this idea. In a lot of crossovers, Danny reeks of death magic, a.k.a. ectoplasm and the Infinite Realms. So, if the portal didn't outright kill Danny and didn't make him a halfa, it could stand to reason that he still suddenly finds himself with a surplus of death magic. Maybe he even generates it himself now. How ironic would it be for a descendant of witch/ghost hunters to end up with magic related to ghosts? xD

The death magic is what makes Danny such a compatible/desirable host for a possession too. Ectoplasm is what ghosts run on, and they can tap into a host's reserves if they have any. Until Danny can actually figure out how-to-magic, letting all that energy just...build up with no outlet probably wouldn't be conducive to continued living either. So, they both benefit from the occasional team up.

On the Phantom side of things, I got to thinking about how in fanon certain entities just spawn (as Neverborn) in The Zone as the personification of concepts or to fill specific roles (i.e. Clockwork being the Master of Time, etc.). And how Phantom has a protection Obsession in most stories. And well...shouldn't something like permanent portals have a guardian, a gatekeeper, so to speak? Vlad built his own permanent portal at some point after getting out of the hospital. It had to have existed for years for Vlad to establish his connections and gather all the lore and knowledge he had by the time Danny meets him in canon.

So, a permanent tear in The Veil appears, and The Realms form a ghost to protect the balance and guard the boundary. Except Plasmius chases him off. That's his portal, thank you very much, and he installed security. He doesn't need a doorman. Vlad's older and stronger than the newly formed guardian spirit and drives him away.

Phantom manages to avoid Obsession starvation following the tugs on his core to natural portals as they form and protects them while they exist. "Keeping" malicious ghosts from going through. (With how short a time natural portals remain open, most malicious ghosts don't get to them in time, but that's for the best while Phantom is still growing into his core.) Letting any ghosts that do go through know when it's about to close so they don't get stranded on the wrong side of The Veil. Keeping mortals from accidentally stumbling through and well...okay, he doesn't know what that much ectoplasm would do to a person, but something in his core tells him it would be bad, let alone if they got stuck Realms-side when the portal closed!

When a new, second permanent portal stirs, Phantom can sense it like a siren's song. He'd never flown so fast to reach the weak point in The Veil he knows it will open. Except, when it does, there's a young mortal trapped in the tear, and he's in so much pain. Phantom doesn't even stop to think before shoving Danny out of the portal. The teen collapses once free of the portal and doesn't move or breathe. Shoot, how do you help a mortal who isn't functioning properly?! Would Frostbite be able to help? Phantom had taken ghosts that got in closing portals to The Far Frozen before, but those were ghosts. And there was still the nagging sense he shouldn't take the boy to the other side of the portal, that it wasn't safe.

Oh, thank goodness, there are footsteps coming down the stairs. Someone else must have heard the boy screaming too. Mortals should know how to help their own, right? Phantom turns invisible just in time to avoid being seen.

Phantom's relieved when he senses the mortal near the portal again a few weeks later. But...is a mortal supposed to feel so much like Death? Maybe Phantom would keep an eye on the young living, just to be safe. Especially since the mortals that made this portal have next to no security measures on it.

At least Plasmius had understood the danger of a permanent portal: malevolent and malicious entities have all the time in The Realms to reach it and find a way through. Phantom was going to have his hands full very soon.

I don't remember which fic I read it in, but Tim had a theory that Danny was a medium and summoned Phantom to possess him and fight off ghosts whenever Amity Park was attacked. Something about ghosts normally not being able to interact with the material plane and possession being more energy efficient and their "powers" being additive if the possessee was willing/not fighting the possession. Would also explain how Phantom wound up with so much Fenton tech.

Kinda sad that ended up not being the case in the story. I'd really love to read an AU that explores that.

[minorlyatfault]

𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 !

p. jackson x child of demeter!reader

only want to fix it with a kiss on the lips,

but i think i might,

take a bite !

𝓦arnings: grammatical errors. ooc(?). my attempt in being poetic. talks ab leaving camp.

𝓝otes:

001. to that one random girl who let me borrow her dictionary earlier at the café while i was writing this, thank you😭😭 (i forgot to ask for her name or ANYTHING)

002. cherry cherry cherry cherry

003. def a guardian angel

sunlight passed through the leaves to cast dappled patterns across the picnic blanket spread between the roots. the cherry trees danced in the soft summer air, the branches weighted with juicy fruit.

you sat opposite percy, a bowl of newly picked cherries between you. he picked one up, rolling it in his fingers, investigating it as if it contained some deep secret.

"you know," he said, looking up at you with that crooked grin, "i think i like it here more than any other place in camp."

you raised an eyebrow. "more than the lake?"

percy paused, then nodded. "yeah. i mean, the lake is fine & all, but this," he waved his hand around at the cherry trees, the small square of green you'd cut out of nothing with your own two hands. "this is more.. okay."

you snorted at his statement.

it was. this wasn't just part of camp half-blood; it was part of you. a part of your soul that had been buried in the roots, in the flowers, in the fruit that grew sweeter each summer. you had sown it yourself, tended to it with the same patient reserve your mother, demeter, had taught you.

& somewhere, somehow along the way, it had grown into yours & percy's.

not formally. not in any manner you could speak. but it was in the way he seemed to always end up here, like a tide drawn in. in the way you reserved the reddest cherries for him, even when you swore you didn't. in the way he looked at you now, like there was nowhere else he'd prefer.(he sometimes jokes about making blue cherries)

you extracted a cherry from the basket, spinning the stem around your fingers. "why is this place so okay?" you asked, your voice teasing.

percy let out a soft snort of laughter. "what, you want me to go all sappy about some trees?"

you grinned. "perhaps."

he tossed his cherry pit into the grass & stretched out on the blanket, hands behind his head. “fine. it’s peaceful. it smells good. &…” he turned his head to look at you, something unreadable visible in his sea-green eyes. “you’re here.”

your breath hitched.

it wasn’t fair, really, the way he did that. said things like that so casually, like he didn’t know what they do to you.

you swallowed, eyes on the cherry in your hand. "do you. . . ever consider leaving?"

percy flinched. "camp?"

you nodded, still looking at the fruit. "yeah. just… escaping. no gods, no monsters. just… us."

the words felt dangerous, even as you said them. he knows you didn't want to leave permanently. he knows you don't want to abandon camp, your cherry trees, the strawberry patch, your half siblings, annabeth, clarisse, will, nico, grover, chiron.

a break? definitely. the half-bloods have experienced war, not once. lost many. you know percy is exhausted. with all the quests, the gods. he led wars. he mourned(you all did). you remembered the first time he came to camp. clueless of the half blood life, the sparks in his eyes, shined. he was like a fire that refuses to go out.

this is the price he's paying for simply existing. said the gods.

percy was silent for a long moment. when he finally spoke, his voice was gentler. softer. "yeah. i think about it all the time."

your heart tightened. "really?"

he looked away from the sky again. "yeah. but i don't think we'd ever really be able to get away from it, you know?"

you knew. gods, you despised that you knew.

demigods weren't cut out for peaceful lives. no matter how much you wanted to hope otherwise.

percy jerked up, grasping another cherry. but he didn't pop it into his mouth; he held it in front of you, an unspoken offering.

you hesitated, then leaned forward, biting into the fruit he held out to you. his fingers touched your lips▰only for an instant, hardly more than a suggestion▰but it made heat unfold in your chest nonetheless. you heart began hitting, punching, slapping your lungs & rib cage. beating so hard that it hurts.

percy grinned. "see? fleeing wouldn't be so terrible."

you swallowed, heart pounding. perhaps it was the angle of the sun on his face, or perhaps the way time seemed to be holding its breath, but something inside you burst. like a cherry when it gets squished.

before you had time to think twice, you leaned in, pressing your lips against his.

percy stopped in mid-motion for half a second. long enough for uncertainty to seep in▰but then his hand wrapped around your cheek, pulling you closer, deeper. the kiss was slow to start, tentative, like the manner in which the waves of the sea crash against the beach. but then he breathed against your lips, tilting his head to one side, & then it wasn't slow anymore.

your fingers went to his shoulders, curling into the collar of his shirt as he drew you onto his lap. the basket of cherries fell over, abandoned, fruit rolling across the blanket. his arms around your waist, holding you tight against him as his mouth worked against yours▰hungered, urgent, like he's been waiting as long as you had. like he's been craving your lips for decades as long as you had craved his'.

the flavor of cherries hung between you, sweet & intoxicating.

percy pulled back just far enough to press his forehead against yours, his breathing unsteady. "we're going to be late for dinner," he whispered, a lazy smile pulling at his mouth.

you laughed, fingers tangling in his dark hair. "perhaps we should simply run away, then."

his hold on your waist tightened ever so slightly. "tempting."

you kissed him again, slow & lingering, as the cherry blossoms above you continued dancing.

perhaps you would take a bite.

© minorlyatfault, 2025.

[222col]

BOT REQS DUMP by @ 222col ˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

notes: finally worked my way through all my requests <3 thank u to everyone who submitted, and apologies for the wait </3 pls carry on submitting here or in my asks, but just remember it's not a guarantee that it'll get made so pls don't be upset if i don't make ur req. it's nothing personal!!!! i just don't want to make something i don't feel 100% convinced on <3

CHALLENGERS

art donaldson ✰ nightclub blues ➳ divorced, lonely art tries to get his confidence back by going to a strip club. where he finds you, only to break down in the vip room with you, looking for comfort during his private dance.

patrick zweig ✰ best friend's brother ➳ an injury sees patrick back home for a few months, in which he is more than happy to spend next to you, and unfortunately his sister, at the country club. staring at you in swimwear and trying to resist temptation.

patrick zweig ✰ tryna make me jealous? ➳ it had been years since you and patrick split, yet you couldn't ever seem to move on from each other— not that you'd ever admit that. just how neither of you would admit you'd spent all the time apart trying to make the other jealous.

patrick zweig ✰ down to one ➳ a roster romance. the true college experience, seeing patrick at every party and waking up to him the next morning. but, he's ready to cut off every girl on his list. he's just scared you won't feel the same.

HEMLOCK GROVE

roman godfrey ✰ work trip away ➳ roman used to love business trips, but since meeting you, he dreads them. as much as he'd never admit it, he can't stand being away from you. once he's reunited with you, he doesn't want to let you out of his sight ever again.

roman godfrey ✰ peter's little sister ➳ roman had never had friends before peter, he had definitely never had a crush before peter's little sister turned up a few weeks after. all these new feelings are so strange to him, but he knows he wants you. he just can't lose his first friend over it.

roman godfrey ✰ can't argue with destiny ➳ everything was going well for destiny, having you, her half-sister, come to stay with her in hemlock grove. until roman started showing interest in you, destiny had her own experiences with upirs and didn't want you involved in their mess.

roman godfrey ✰ arranged marriage ➳ after years of threats by olivia, she finally forced roman into an arranged marriage. the two of you weren't happy, the tension led to arguments. roman's fed up of it, and wants to be able to touch his pretty wife.

roman godfrey ✰ left behind ➳ you had to watch your family disappear, choosing to stay behind after letha's death instead of fleeing with your mother and brother. you knew roman would be heartbroken losing peter, and couldn't bring yourself to take anything else away from him.

roman and peter ✰ forbidden fruit ➳ peter had finally found someone after the pain of letha, enjoying the peace that hemlock grove had finally gifted you both. but peace never lasts long, especially when roman's suddenly confessing his feelings to peter's girlfriend.

peter rumancek ✰ your protector ➳ peter and roman were having dreams, of the vargulf's next victims. wishing they could work out a pattern, a way to stop the vargulf. never did peter think the next target would be you, the person he loves more than anything.

THE CROW (2024)

eric draven ✰ feel like home ➳ you were eric's safe haven during his teen years, his best friend, before he dropped out of high school and fell into bad habits. he'd forgotten how it felt to be loved by you, until he bumps into you after shelley's passing.

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer: I... I didn't make you-.

Adam: Did you mourn me?

The king was taken aback by that question. Adam's pale, sunken face had haunted him for years. Even more so when he slowly came to believe that his soul went nowhere. Just... stuck in limbo.

Lucifer: I... o-of course I did.

Adam: Really? Don't blame me for not believing you. Thousands of years ago, I would have cared. I would have screamed and begged for you to just... speak to me. Fuck, even LOOK at me. But, it's amazing how much Hell changes a person.

The king stared at Adam, his face was tense, staring dead head. But, his eyes mainly travelled down his body, looking at the changes Hell had made. The tail, the wings, the fact Adam seemed to be able to change his gender.

Adam: I hope you know why everyone hates you. And your fucking wife. I hope you know why I hate you. You made me feel like I was fucking nothing. Just some cunt in your fucking way. Not important to fucking come back for, but some random bitch you've never met was?! I saw you you both looked at Eve. Like she was perfect. Some fucking victim. Did you even ask how she was made? Did you know that the fucking angels held me down, and tore a fucking BONE from my side to make her?! Not that it mattered, I'm sure you two would have loved to have heard my screaming. Too bad for you, you both fucked off before then, huh?

Before Lucifer could answer, Adam stood up straight: Enjoy the party, Lucifer. It is dedicated to you, after all. Oh, and next time you claim to be the first one to fall to Hell, think again.

He couldn't let him leave. He came all this way, and it wouldn't be for nothing.

Lucifer quickly grabbed Adam's arm as the sin started to walk off. And if looks could kill, Lucifer would be dead. The glare Adam shot at him as he tried to pull his arm out of the kings grasp was so full of hate and anger.

Lucifer: I- I... w-want you to meet my daughter.

Adam stared at Lucifer before laughing, even though there was most definitely no humour behind it.

Adam: Are you fucking kidding?! I don't give a shit about your fucking brat, Lucifer! It's all I've ever wanted was to have a baby, and I fucking can't! So, out of every runt in this fucking shit hole, yours is the last one I want to fucking see.

Lucifer glared: Adam-.

Adam: Let fucking go of me. Now.

The king stared at Adam before letting go and watching the sin storm off somewhere, probably to get another drink.

Lucifer didn't know what to do. He didn't want to be here, but now... he didn't really want to go home either. This night was... a lot. To say the least.

He's never seen Adam so mad. He never thought he'd hear the first man raise his voice to him. But then, he never thought Adam would have done something so risky as to leave Eden on his own and eventually starve to death.

Lucifer's lost him. Officially. And he wasn't sure if there was any way to get him back.

The Sin of Lust

@beef-brisket

Adam knew deep down. He had his suspicions on what his wife was doing. Now he knew.

For the evidence was staring him right in the face a few yards away. There under the shade of the tree that held the forbidden fruit were Eve, Lucifer, and Lilith committing the act of carnal knowledge.

The past week Eve had been a bit distant. Always making excuses as to where she was and what she was doing. Deep down he had a feeling of who she was seeing.

She acted the same way Lilith had before she left.

Now Adam stared with dull eyes as Lucifer had his face and mouth on Eve’s vagina with the second woman moaning in pleasure. Lilith stood by and watched her lover take Eve as she bit her lips.

Her face held an expression he could not pronounce but knew what it was deep down. For a split second her amethyst gaze met his and she smirked. She had won.

She took his first time.

She took his angel.

and now she took Eve.

She had completely broken the first man.

In her mind that meant she won. But Adam wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of rubbing it in. Turning on his heels he left the women and Angel to their devices.

He was done. He was not going to stick around and be stuck in a marriage with someone who obviously doesn’t love him. He wasn’t going to let the angels make another wife only for her to fall for the charms of that snake.

In fact he wasn’t going to be fulfilling his duties as the future father of humanity. Or as the first man. Someone else can have it.

He wouldn’t live in a place where everywhere he turned he was reminded of betrayal. Even the spots that once held sweet memories soured.

Soon he had made it to his destination. After making sure the angels guarding the gates weren’t looking he crept towards the doors of Eden. Turning back one last time he said only one thing.

Adam: Goodbye.

With all his might he pushed the doors open and stepped out into the world before him. Unaware of the consequences that this act of defiance would have on his soul.

[proxissima]

I originally didn't want to talk about the Mark/Cecil conflict in the new season, but going into the Cecil tag incited me enough to put in my own two cents.

First things first, I don't think Cecil was necessarily wrong for having a backup plan or using any resource available just to be able to have some sort of defence against an insurmountable alien power.

My issue is a different one.

I personally think the entire conflict felt extremely contrived as it had been presented in the story.

You're telling me that the man who has a backup plan to a backup plan, has seen through Omni-Man's lies in their first meeting (though the reveal of Nolan turning out to having been such an incompetent liar is another complaint I have with this season), has been manipulating/deceiving Debbie, Mark, basically all of the guardians for years, would be dumb enough to outright attack Mark in front of EVERYONE - which also was completely out of the blue from the guardians' POV - and expect them to remain on his side??

Cecil's more than proven himself to be a capable strategist in the past and you seriously want to tell me that he couldn't have thought to appease Mark's doubts and just de-escalate the whole situation instead of springing all that "you're scaring me, so by the way, here are all the methods I've concocted behind your back to hurt/kill you" on Mark?

This was the same guy who went to face Omni-Man directly just to buy time and he was a hairs-breadth away from getting turned into paste, but now he lost his nerves immediately and thought that was the ideal moment to demonstrate to Mark just how little he trusts him?

Mark had simply been upset at the revelation that two ex-criminals were working for Cecil and wanted to confront him about it, but that was just a hero's outrage over grey morals. I'd still argue that that was nothing that couldn't have been smoothed over ultimately (not that there wouldn't be any negative consequences for the relationship between them in the long run), but this Cecil saw an insect and decided that nuking the entire town was a perfectly proportional response.

You can't tell me he had no clue about Mark's character because 1) he was witness to how Mark reacted to his father's rampage, 2) he'd continuously kept tabs on his entire family, friends & love interests via observation AND via the nanny. From all those terabytes of data, any basic AI would've told Cecil that Mark wouldn't suddenly go rogue and murder Cecil on the spot because he was a little angry in that moment.

It would've made somewhat more sense if Cecil had attacked Mark because he genuinely wanted to be rid of the potential threat Mark as a Viltrumite posed (which would, overall, still be incredibly fucking stupid in the given circumstances) and then actually go through with it from start to finish, no half measures garbage.

But instead, this Cecil - while he was sicking the Reanimen on Mark and ADDITIONALLY dropping the bomb on him that he'd had a self-destruct button implanted into Mark's brain against the latter's will or knowledge - for some ungodly reason was STILL acting like Mark was being the drama queen here and expected Mark to be open to dialogue at that point. And after all of this, Cecil was somehow surprised when Mark refused to listen and was defending himself because he was fearing for his life.

Not to mention that Cecil provoked Mark to flee to the guardians, where Cecil, entirely unprompted, continued to escalate, all in front of the gathered team, who had had no clue about the nature of the Reanimen and had previously clearly been willing to give Cecil the benefit of the doubt OVER Mark. The team had also been completely uninvolved in the conflict between them, which meant that Cecil, had he not attacked Mark first, still possibly could've spun the story like Mark was actually the one in the wrong, when they did get involved. (I'm gonna say that it undoubtedly would've been difficult since Cecil had already told Mark about the bomb prior, so atp the split up might've still happened in the end, albeit without the actual fight)

I'd argue legit none of this would've happened, however, had Cecil only turned his brain on, played his cards right and, most importantly, KEPT HIS MOUTH SHUT ABOUT THE COUNTERMEASURES. At the worst, Mark might've left the group, but Cecil could've just told the guardians about Sinclair and Darkwing, and they most likely would've seen reason, shrugged, and continued working for Cecil. They only split up, after all, when the question of Cecil only viewing them as weapons to be used and discarded at will came up, which, again, would never have happened had Cecil just not told Mark shit about plans B & C.

Tl;dr so yeah, my issue isn't about Mark or Cecil being right or wrong, it's about Cecil being a fucking dumbass who revealed all his trump cards in a mustache-twirling villain fashion for no reason at all. This felt like a weak-point to the story itself, because Cecil's decisions were just mind-bogglingly stupid and uncharacteristically reckless (OOC).

[numberonetacostan]

The First Law of Robotics as it Applies to Meeple Products (Theory)

Hello everyone!!!^^ I had a little think about how the big 3 robot rules applied to our beloved meeplings, and wanted to share my theory!! Please enjoy!!! :)

The first law out of all three is what this theory is really about. So let's look at what it is real quick!

As per this law, our Meeplings would not be able to harm living objects, yeah? And, even for ii in which we don't see many naturally living objects (more on how this applies to our contestants at the end), there is one very important exception. Steve Cobs.

During the fight in the finale, it is only the ghosts that actually attack Cobs. Neither Mepad nor Mephone4 make any sort of move to actually strike him, and while yes, Mepad lacks the arms to easily do so and Mephone4 was scared out of his mind, there is no action on either of their parts to harm him. Not even Mephone4's talking hand actually got any sort of hit on Cobs. Mepad didn't attempt to teleport (though whether or not he had the energy to do so is debatable; though he did teleport himself during the fight) nor try to kick him or even just knock Cobs over with his larger size while he was distracted.

And this is all as Cobs is actively trying to stab them. No one is having a good time here!!! Even though the outnumber Cobs, neither of them make an attempt to even immobilize him temporarily, to buy time for the contestants and themselves.

And, as the first law says, I believe the reason for this is that they're physically unable to do any harm to Cobs. It is hard-programmed into them that under no circumstances may they harm a "human," or in our case, living object. And if we take a quick look at the third law of robotics:

...then we can see that they wouldn't be able to protect their own lives because of it. All they can do is dodge and run, because they're incapable of doing anything that could actually harm Cobs.

I would like to comment that this adds to the feelings of powerlessness from Mephone4 towards Cobs!!! Of course he'd go hide in a closet or a cave, and wipe his memories. Because he'll never be able to fight back.

Bonus Round: Does this law apply to the contestants?

No.

Mephone certainly eases up on harming the contestants as we get on with the show, but he is very much capable of harming them, meaning Mepad can also be assumed to have that capability. Cobs doesn't consider them actual living people, so I doubt their internal coding would either. They'd probably be viewed as like... fellow computer programs, maybe? Nonliving beings? Doesn't particularly matter, as long as it's not living object. Even if the Meeplings consciously consider the contestants to be equal, living beings, their programming wouldn't change with their thoughts.

[omgfangirlland]

Okay BUT BRUCE AND DICK CRYING? OVER THE BATSIS STUFF!?

Like Bruce curled up into the bed that is supposed to be for her (BATSIS) Wich is clearly to small for Bruce, and he's burying his head into the plushie (make it a Sheep? Or worse make it a Superman or wonder woman plushie) and Bruce is just crying his hear and eyes out,

My god the feeling that Dick is just in the same place as Bruce but Dick is on the floor grieving, holding those paintings as if they were a life line because.... He failed them, he failed another kid, he wasn't there in time and now there is probably no more time, he probably lost another kid again...... He failed, he's a failure of an older brother, imagine that feeling sinking in and he starts feeling just as that time when Jason dies and he wasn't there and he lost his baby brother but this time is that he was ignorant and neglectful and even fully forgot that he had a baby sister and now he will never have time with her..... He'll never get back those 6 six years..... She has another older sibling to look up to, one that actually notices her and they are attached to the hip, a sibling that she really cares and loves, a brother that will do anything to keep her safe,.... How can he compete with that? but he needs to right? Just to have a small chance.

Ok bUt hear me out

Bruce Wayne vs Nolan Grayson.

I'll leave that there, do with that what you want, let's use our imagination.

Sorry I got inspired I just LOVED CHAPTER 16 ITS LOVELY

( I need a 2 chapters titled "Bruce Wayne vs Debbie Grayson or Nolan" (graysons wins) and another titled "whose the better Grayson?" And it's a Dick vs Mark type of thing (It's Mark, Mark's better) Lmao)

I may be on a very good mood, so I'm so sorry if I send more asks 😔😭🖐️

-Nameless 💜

(sorry for so many asks I just LOVE your series)

NEVER BE SORRY FOR SENDING ASKS I LOVE THEM!! 💚💚💚💚

I put my money on the Wonder Woman because 1. What if batsis had a plushie of every hero but not the bats? Damage. 2. She initially got the Wonder Woman plushie as a gift for Jason, and when he died, she took it back. Double damage.

See? I wouldn't be able to come up with this stuff completely on my own, the asks are important:)))

I fully wrote the Dick crying on the floor, clutching drawings with the idea that batsis drew two versions of the same idea, him and his parents, and him, his parents, and the bat fam btw. I wanted to add that, but he'd be holding them with the drawn site to his chest so it wouldn't show, so I had to erase that.

By the time the Dick saga fully begins I fear he'll be delusional enough to see you sticking around a family named Grayson as a sign that everything is fine and you'll forgive everything since you clearly missed him them so much. He'll be deep in the hells of denial. 5 stages of grief? Nah. It's just denial.

This isn't exactly Nolan vs Bruce- but I have had a scene since like- chapter 13, for a little jab Nolan will throw at Damian, and I think you'll enjoy it when and how it happens. But to go back to the dad vs ...dna donor. That'll be another breakdown for Bruce, full crashout. Are people watching? The league? He doesn't care. He just needs to punch something so he can calm down, maybe cry a bit more- his baby had been with a murderer for years- and then the planning starts.

Now- If it's Brucie who meets the man. Nolan "I don't know who you are, son. But I know you're a whore. Stay away from my kids and wife." Grayson just lies and moves past, because he's a changed man- and he may have been bribed to play nice.

Brucie is flabbergasted- how dare- he's right- but still. He could ignore it, but he also could be petty, finding every way possible to be as close to his daughter and the other two kids(they're not his and he's pissy about them being closer to batsis than his own kids) pushing and pushing until, probably Oliver since the lil manipulative blueberry doesn't like this fool being so friendly with his big sis and completely ignoring him and Mark, just starts screaming and crying that the bad man(Bruce) did something bad. (The Bruce Wayne pr team wants to quit.) Be it either calling him or her sister something mean, or going the extra evil mile and saying to stop touching me like that pervert- the papers will have a field trip. Bruce shan't know peace, his kids were raised for higher society, to network with even the worst of the worst, Mark and Oliver? They'll point and scream stranger danger just to fuck with someone.

Now does this give Nolan the great excuse to punch him? Yes. Debbie is faster to play along, though, and she ends up beating Bruce with her purse, Nolan is resigned to a bodyguard post, simply dragging Bruce away under his arm like he's holding a cardboard cut out.

If it's batman, it's very much against either man's will and will probably end up in a brawl. Now the kids are split into the "Stop that" and "fuck his shit up" camps, until Nolan punches something and everyone is reminded that Bruce will break his fist if he does land a punch. Batsis and Jason intervene, sadly, but Bruce is being stupid, and Nolan is on thin ice with the government. He can't be seen fighting with another hero... again.

A lot of restrictions are about to be put on Nolan, so sadly, his hands are tied. Good thing his wife and kids are just as feral as he is.

SEND AS MANY AS YOU WANT BBY DON'T WORRY I LOVE IT( I may respond a few hours later tho, it's almost 3 am and sleep finally hit me 😅)

I hope this is comprehensive and not just incoherent rambling 😭

[ariemfox]

hmm if five had never jumped... yeah i do think five would've included viktor a lot more whilst at the academy & would've helped him feel less isolated, but only superficially & initially.

if five never experienced the isolation of living in the apocalypse - never felt what it was truly like to be alone for 45 years - i don't think he'd value his family (including viktor) as much bc he never had to miss them. you don't know what you loved until it's gone & all that.

i think he'd just want to leave the academy behind, in the normal way, by leaving home when he's able to and starting his own life. whether that is through starting his own family (a chosen family rather than a forced one), going into physics academia/research to fuel his obsessions, or even into the cia. i can imagine him never noticing viktor struggling simply because he's got a new life to care about.

also, i get the feeling that his arrogance and god complex (looking at pre-apocalypse five especially) would've caused a huge rift between him & viktor if he stayed. he truly believes that he is superior to ordinary people because he has powers. i can imagine over time the underlying tone towards viktor of "you are not one of us, you don't belong" - especially from someone who's closer to him - would eventually cause viktor to just fucking snap, distancing them. i'm thinking of the "why me" "because you're ordinary" scene in s1, just happening over and over and over until viktor boils over with suppressed rage.

maybe viktor would make the book in this timeline too, and five - with his ego and pride, in the present, alive and surrounded by living, breathing, and judging humans - would grudgingly respect viktor. but even more, he would hate having all his weaknesses exposed, and they would drift apart even more.

by the time reginald dies, i can imagine five just being too preoccupied by his own personal life to care about viktor's own issues; just like all the other siblings, and just like he did in the other timeline. in my mind, it would all stay pretty much exactly the same (maybe bar the commission's involvement), and viktor would still cause the apocalypse. i can imagine it playing out in a very similar fashion to the 1st timeline (five's apocalypse timeline).

for viktor's apocalypse to be prevented tho, i feel like something else would have to change other than five not running away. idk what, but i get the feeling that ben surviving wouldn't change shit (he is equally, if not more dysfunctional lol). but who knows, in s2 ben did stop viktor from causing his second apocalypse, so maybe.

i wanna hear takes on whether or not we think the apocalypse would’ve still happened if five had never jumped.

i always had this impression that since five was the closest with viktor growing up, he would’ve been there to support him and stick up for him and maybe help him to … not blow up the moon i guess

but i don’t know. i’m very convinced that a five that never jumped would’ve moved out of the academy as soon as humanly possible and i don’t know if him and viktor would’ve grown far enough apart that the whole “finding out he had superpowers the whole time” thing would’ve been something five could’ve helped him figure out

i don’t know man. but i find it interesting to think about. so give me takes please im curious

[forestofforever]

People didn't usually get a say in the way they died, did they?

It usually just sneaked up on you; poor decisions, a bad lifestyle, a disease, slowly eating away at you until your body simply withered away. Or it happened suddenly; a car crash, a fall with an unlucky landing, or a well-placed bullet. The only ones who got to decide, it seemed, were those who took things into their own hands.

For years now, one thing was clear to Sylvester: his own death was out of his control. Benjamin would decide for him, once the time came. Sylvester was under no illusion that he would lead a long or happy life, oh no, once Benjamin got bored of him, that would be it. He would be put down like a dog. Nobody would even realize he was gone. Benjamin would not bother giving him an actual grave.

And Benjamin was growing bored of him. And that meant Sylvester was running out of time.

This information is important. Important because otherwise, you may not understand the image in front of you. Of Sylvester slowly trudging through a field in the middle of the night. His movements are jerky and his body feverish. His eyes lack focus, but they also seem more peaceful than they have in years. He will die soon. He knows this, and he is glad for it. You see, he is the one who made the decision.

He would not let Benjamin take that away from him, he was going out on his own terms. Once he feels that he is a sufficient distance from the Forest Estate, he allows himself to simply collapse into the grass, tilting his face upwards so that he can look at the night sky in his final moments. The poison is slowly but certainly draining the life out of him and he accepts this, embraces it. Welcomes death like an old friend.

He will close his eyes eventually, but for now, he will just keep admiring the stars.

[sysig]

Two big softies(?) (Patreon)

[abrahamvanhelsings]

the hitch in van helsing's words when he says "i beseech you" im going to cry for real this time. it's not even simply that he knows how important it is that he gets arthur to trust him, that he's conscious of their duty to all living souls and lucy herself to do this to her and how difficult this will be physically and emotionally. it's that arthur now distrusts him, cries at him in anger - arthur, the man who looks like his lost son and whom he loves because of it. the man whose love and respect he may now never get back after suggesting mutilating lucy's corpse. he isn't just desperate for all the men in that room to trust him so they can give lucy peace and keep the living safe. that's the sacrifice of his father's heart splitting in two right there. wtf alan burgon.

[margindoodles2407]

hi Margin! idk if you're still doing those 3-sentence fics, but in case you are, here's a prompt suggestion: "dawn"

bonus points if it's HW zelink? <3

Ohohohohohohohoho YES >:)

(full disclosure this was sitting in my inbox for weeks because i couldn't figure out what to write but i did it today in math class so here you go)

He was stern, and cold, and dispassionate; a statue, they called him, beautiful and unfeeling and as pristinely white as marble, resistant to the colors of love and laughter- or at least, that's what they said.

She was beautiful too, but not in his opaque, colorless way- if he was a marble statue, she was a stained-glass window, full of light and warmth and color, and her soul was the dawn that shone through and cast her illuminating hues on the grey congregation of the soldiers around her.

And when he was with her- when the dawn of her smile graced the Captain, not grey and battered like his men but pristinely alabaster- he absorbed her color; the white and colorless turned brilliant shades of gold and green and blue, and the few blessed to witness this transfiguration swore that, for a moment, she could make their Captain look almost human.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

[babyboy555777]

Overheard

Summary: Rafe over hears you and Sarah talking about your night at the beach with a hookup.

CW: possessive Rafe, rough sex, name calling, unprotected sex (wrap before tap), bit of choking and hair pulling, forced to stay quiet, mirror sex. (Should be it)

(Did not proofread bc this took me so long already.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You and Sarah had been friends for years. You moved to Outer Banks as a child and took quite a liking to Sarah and her family. You were always known to drop in whenever you felt needed. You shared many nights at their house and basically became a part of the family.

On this specific day it was like any other. You hopped in your jeep and quickly sped off to Tannyhill. Soon arriving in the circle driveway of the mansion you quickly got out and headed to the door knocking loud, so you were heard.

The door was swung open by none other than the snarky stuck-up brother of your best friend, Rafe Cameron. “You don’t have to knock.” He sighed “you basically live here anyway.” He scolded you. You pushed past him and into the entrance way of the house.

“Where’s Sarah?” Rafe shut the door and then pointed up the stairs to her room. “Where she always is waiting for you.” You nodded your head at him giving him one last look before making your way up to her room. He watched as you quickly sprinted up the stairs. Watching as your hips moved and how your ass was in perfect view.

He shook his head relieving the thought of you knowing how wrong it was. Soon he made his way up the stairs as well to his own room that was until he heard you talking in a not so quiet voice to his sister.

"I wouldn't say it was awful, just not what I wanted." Sarah cocked a brow to you. "Well, what did you want. I mean you wanted to have sex with him, right? What more could you want. You practically begged me for his number." She chuckled.

"Yes, I did." Rafe moved closer to the crack in the door leaning his ear closer. He listened closely to your words. "What does she mean" he thought to himself.

Yes, Rafe knew you, but he thought he knew you well enough. He never saw you as the type to beg for sex with someone, or much less really want it.

In his head you always were the type to never come off as sexual but definitely not innocent. He truly just thought that in this world full of sex you had no idea what you were doing or had any care for it, and he was so wrong.

"Okay yes I wanted it. Like the party last week, I wanted to just be dragged off with him somewhere because I thought he'd fuck the shit out of me. See that's what I wanted." You crossed your arms and huffed.

"Okay, then what happened that you didn't like? Was it the fact it was on the beach or like what?"

"I guess the best way I could put it is I wanted it to me more filled with lust and desire. I wanted it to be rough and I wanted to not be able to walk today." You chuckled along with Sarah.

"Well how did it go for you?" You sighed trying to think back to last night. "Well, he took me out on the beach, and he had a blanket with him. Talking happens and whatever and I end up straddling his lap."

Sarah nodded her head waiting for you to continue, but Rafe stood out the door as he held his breath. He was pissed. You fucking some other man and he didn't even do it right pissed him off more. But he stayed quiet.

"We made out a bit and I started to grind on him a bit. Obviously, he got a rise up, so I got all cocky and pulled his dick out. After a few moments of me just doing my thing, I pulled my bikini bottoms off and rode him. He was like..." You paused trying to find your words.

"It was like he never wanted it to end and not saying I don't like that, but I asked if he could get on top and we'd go faster he just straight up refused. Which basically dried me up and I didn't even want to do it anymore."

Sarah tried to hold back her laughter. "Hey, it's not funny I'm being dead serious." You smacked her arm but laughed as well.

Rafe was the only one not laughing. Red filled his face with anger, and he scoffed at your words. "Didn't even fuck her the way she wanted. What a pussy." He thought.

"Well maybe you'll find someone who just rocks your world." Sarah smirked. "Yeah, as if." But only if you knew what little plan Rafe had planted into his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same day you had planned on staying the night with Sarah. Of course, to everyone in the house it was no surprise. It was now late at night and Sarah was asleep. However, you sat awake in her bed scrolling mindlessly on your phone till a text popped up.

"Come here."

You read the text from Rafe. Confusion spread across your face. You texted back.

"Sarahs asleep. Where are you?"

"My room. Just come here you won't wake her, she's a heavy sleeper."

You sighed and turned off your phone placing it on the nightstand beside you. Slowly you rose up from the bed making your way to the bedroom door making sure to stay as quiet as possible.

You looked back at Sarah one last time before closing the door. You slowly tiptoed your way down the hall to Rafe's room. You raised your hand to the door knocking slow and quiet. Soon Rafe opened up the door nodding his head telling you to come in.

As you walked in you looked around the room that was dimly lit by the small lamp setting you realized you had never seen Rafe's room before. "I have never been in here." You turn back and look at him leaning up against the door. "Cleaner than I thought." You chuckled.

He shrugged. "Don't know why you'd ever think that. I believe I come off as a clean person." He paused. "Unlike you." You looked at him confused for a moment as he stepped closer to you, his rich cologne filled your nostrils.

"I heard you. Talking to my sister earlier today." He walked behind you. "How you wanted to be fucked hard." He leaned in closer to your ear whispering. "How you want it to be filled with lust and desire."

His words sent chills down your spine and your own words choked up. "So, fucking dirty and here I was thinking you didn't care about these things." His hands slowly made their way to your hips giving a slight squeez.

"Rafe..." You spoke barley above a whisper. He smirked against your neck placing a small kiss right below your ear. "Is that what you want? To be fucked like the whore you are?"

Your legs squeez together trying to release some of the tension that was building up. You let out a shaky breath as one of his hands trail down to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Is this what you want?" He whispered. You nodded your head squeezing your eyes shut as he played with the waist band. "Words."

"Yes, I want this." He slid his hands down your shorts. Two of his fingers rubbed against your folds. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. He rubbed circles around your clit as your hips moved forward chasing his touch.

You let out a small moan and immediately Rafe slaps his hand onto your mouth. "What you want the whole house to hear? As much as I'd love to hear your pretty little moans you need to keep quiet."

You nodded your head frantically. "Good girl." Rafe then removes his hand from you making you whine at his loss of touch. He stepped back from you grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed. He pushed you down on the bed and you let out a gasp.

He crawled on top of you and basically ripped off your clothes and his throwing them on the floor. Rafe started to kiss your neck earning a small gasp to leave your lips.

"Rafe please..." you whine out. "What do you want?" He smirked against your neck. The words couldn't seem to leave your lips as he left a bite on your sweet spot right below your ear.

"Don't go quiet on me now." He rose up to look at you. "Tell me what you want." You started to bite your lip at the sight of him. The sly smirk planted across his face. His shoulder muscles showing more featured as he held himself up.

"Fuck me Rafe...." As soon as the words slipped from your lips it felt like sweet honey on his tongue. He spread your legs open, and you wrapped them around his waist trying to pull him in.

"So needy?" He chuckled making you want him even more. "Rafe..." You breathed out. "Words sweetheart." He smirked once again. "Rafe please fuck me." Your wish was his command.

He lined himself up to you and without warning slammed into you making you let out a loud cry. He quickly slapped his hand over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up." He groaned out.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he thrusted into your cunt hard and fast. "You feel so fucking good. Holy shit." His words were breathless as if he blurted them out of pure pleasure.

His hand still planted on your mouth as the other held your waist tightly. You threw your head back at all the new pleasure rising in you. Rafe looked down at you smirking at the absolute complete mess you were in this moment.

"You like how I fuck you. I bet that pussy boy could never be like this with you." You moaned against his hand as the words leaped off his tongue.

As Rafe pounded into you harder and faster the headboard started to move. He let go of your waist grabbing the board holding himself up as he stayed covering your mouth. You watched his muscles tensed and sweat glistened on his body.

All the pleasure plus the view of him really added onto you forgetting about your shitty hookup. "Fuck..." He groaned out throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

In an instant Rafe grabbed you off the bed still fucking you and took you into the big bathroom inside his bedroom. He turned you around facing the mirror. "I want you to see that pretty little face when you cum for me. A face you'll never see without me fucking you like this."

He held your mouth again making you look at the beautiful mess you were in the mirror. Him pounding in and out of you. Your breast bouncing. Him making direct eye contact with you through the mirror itself.

Muffed moans and him slapping his thighs against your ass echoed through the tile walls. As you could feel your peak approaching you closed your eyes. "No." In one swift move he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair forcing your eyes open to see yourself.

He smirked as he watched you bite your lip holding back you loud beautiful moans. With a few sloppier thrust Rafe was chasing his own high. Throwing his head back as he pounded into you. "Fuck me." He groaned out.

Your high had reached his peak biting your lip so hard blood started to form. Rafe grabbed you pulling you against your chest holding your neck. "Come on baby." He whispered in your ear making you crash.

Your legs started to shake and the image of you two in the mirror was all too much to handle. Rafe started to come down from his own high. His thrust and movements slowing down as his hot liquid shot inside you.

Rafe turned your head towards his planting a sloppy wet kiss on your lips and he pulled out of you. Rafe pulled away, and you both panted for air more than ever. "That's how you should be fucked." A smirk planted across his lips.

[bi-writes]

I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon

mail-order bride

reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+

simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.

when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.

but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.

a pretty girl.

he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.

but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.

simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).

when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.

and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).

it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.

"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.

one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--

"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."

bloody fuckin' christ.

your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.

"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"

instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.

you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.

he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.

he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.

you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.

"we shouldn't," he mutters.

"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--

you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.

"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"

"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.

he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.

holy fucking shit--

"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"

"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.

"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"

"shit--"

you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.

he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.

your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.

"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.

"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."

"w-wha--! simon!"

you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.

but when you laugh, he does, too.

[muntitled]

No Promises

Jake Sim x Fem!Reader

Summary: “So hypothetically, what would you do if I told you the condom broke-”

Warnings: Language, Domestic Fluff, Slight Angst, Himbo!Jake, Nerd!Reader, Smut +18 (minors dni) Dom!Jake, Pussy Drunk Jake, He really wants kids, Breeding Kink, Humping, Grinding, Slight Dub/Con, Unprotected Sex, Dub/Con Raw Sex, Perv!Jake, Rough Sex, Forceful Breeding, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Unedited

I'm ovulating

Jaeyun's head is filled to the brim with unsavoury business as he shuffles through the university office.

'It's simple,' Jake says to himself as he cradles the rugby ball under his arm. 'Not. A big deal.'

Once Jake enters the university office, he is immediately bombarded by the smell of old, academic wood. Here, the less crowded, air conditioned space is a nice breakaway from the sweltering rugby field, but all that plagues Jake’s mind are the overwhelming memories of you.

Specifically, you last night, bathed under the sweet honey glow of your cheap salt lamp. His lips on yours as you straddled him on the floor. Skin everywhere.

Jaeyun still remembers his tongue meshing against your own, all he tasted was the ruddiness of white wine.

The pillow forte you were initially building in the living room lay forgotten around you, instead, the space became a lovenest with the moon staring idly from beyond your cream blinds.

"Ride me," Jake breathed out with his mouth attaching itself to the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder. He drifted your braids out of the way, letting his hand massage your scalp as he craned your neck backwards.

"I need to see you ride me." His voice was hoarse as he manoeuvred you to straddle his hips.

He remembers the texture of the string of beads tied around your waist.

He remembers the air leaving his lungs when you lowered your heat to his cock.

He remembers not being able to stop.

"Did you buy the condoms," you had asked the diabolical question, right when he was about to get it in.

"Fuck the condoms…" he laughed dryly with his thumb skimming across your hips, bumping against the waist beads, "We're both clean. I wanna feel you."

Jake had been wholly disappointed to see your face harden into that pissed off look that was always aimed at the students you tutored.

He'd be scared if he didn't find it hot.

"That's so incredibly unfunny," you pushed at his chest until he released a winded breath, "Don't piss me off, Jaeyun,"

"Fine- fuck- I was kidding,"

He wasn't. And even when he slipped the condom on and slipped inside, Jake became delirious with pleasure of it all.

"Where do you want me to cum?" he had asked.

Naive, unsuspecting you, had replied, “Inside. Y-You're wearing a condom, right? Inside.” Jake fucking lost his mind all the same.

The evening had ended with Jake skimming his hand over the fullness of your ass as he pulled his bottom lip against his teeth.

He watched the softness of your skin mould under his grip as he snickered, "She gon' take it up the ass like a ventriloquist-"

"Do not quote Kanye at me after we just had sex." You groaned.

But Jake wasn't done because now he was thinking about your ass and you'd both gone on for 2 more rounds.

'It's easy,' says present-day-Jake, shaking his hair as if to clear away the thoughts before they took root and really became a problem for him.

His little inner pep talk guides him to the receptionist desk. 'Just tell her the condom snapped and I may have cum a little inside. It's not my fault I'm fucking huge,' but even just the thought of it has Jake warming with anxiety.

"Good morning, Jake!" It's not difficult to plaster on his golden boy smile for the receptionist. Everyone at this University buys the absolute shit he sells, never once questioning their star athletes true intentions behind his disarming smile. He could get away with murder.

"Morning," Jake replied, knocking on the wood of the large mahogany desk. All this mahogany and yet all he could smell was you. Cocoa Butter was an all consuming thing.

"Is she in?" He asks, prompting the receptionist to nod. As Jake walks down the mouth of a corridor leading to the offices of tutors, professors and assistant professors, he keeps his head bowed until he reaches your door.

When you let him into the empty office, all thoughts vanished. Storming in his mind were solutions as to how he might divulge his little slip-up.

"Keep the door open, Jake, I don't do scandals." He was enamoured at the sight of you seated behind the large brown desk with your eyes dark and sleepy. Jake already tried to work out the probability of you remaining calm at the knowledge that the condom he used last night had been breached but looking at you here, he knew there was no possible reality in which you wouldn't try to murder him.

He closes the door despite your words and all you do is look up from your paper and sigh.

Seduction, he decided, was his only defence.

“Is there a reason you're bothering me at work?”

"Didn't know assistant professors got their own offices," he says, dropping the rugby ball in a corner beside a stack of mind-numbing philosophy manifestos.

"We don't," you say, never looking up from your paper, "I don't know how long I'm gonna have this space to myself to mark in peace, that's why we have to be quick-

"Quick," Jake's head snaps up, "I can do quick."

Instead of taking note of your eyeballs rolling to the back of your skull, Jake instead focuses on the expanse of your cleavage spilling out of that diabolically tight v-neck. "The conversation, Jake. What do you want? I have essays to mark." You drop the papers in a huff of unbridled academic frustration, effectively giving Jake the opening he needs to walk towards your desk until he's behind your chair. His hands drift over your shoulders, kneading the tense skin until your head is rolling back, away from the work.

"I thought you'd be happy to see your boyfriend,” he loved referring to himself as ‘boyfriend’, it made him secure in his role. “I have an inter-uni game to catch with the boys but I'm gracing you with my presence instead," your eyes flutter closed as you relax back into the security of Jake's hands.

"You really don't have to talk, babe,"

"But this place is so suffocating," Jake huffs, letting his eyes drift over the dark and dreary room flooded with books, papers, old, depressing paintings of old depressing philosophers. "I can feel myself getting smarter just being here. It's disgusting."

You hum as Jake's thumb drifts under the thin fabric of your v-neck, kneading into the tissue surrounding your shoulder blade. "It's almost like there's more to campus than just the rugby field," your him bleeds into a moan as Jake fingers prod at a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I had no idea," he says with mock sarcasm. You chuckle lightly as you let Jake's fingers coax you into a much needed break. The peace is a welcome getaway from the tedium that came from fixing grammatical issues and spelling errors.

Jake's left hand continues to knead at your back while his right drifts to the front of your neck. He could've been a chiropractor in his past life, Jake thinks idly as he cups the base of your throat until he's turning your head to match his ministrations.

"Fuck," that tiny sound leaving your mouth does everything to focus Jake's attention down on you. His eyes are hooded as he watches you seated before him and he's all too aware of the fact that this angle allows him to see down your top, into the pillowy expanse of your cleavage.

Jake pushes his hardening cock against the back of your high back chair as he continues to massage your back and neck.

And sure, maybe his hand may drift a little lower down your chest while the other continues to work at your neck.

You almost don't catch him when he says, "So hypothetically what would you do if I told you the condom broke-"

Your eyes snap open and you try to rid yourself of Jake's hands but the hand drifting against your cleavage cages you to the chair. No running.

"What the fuck is wrong with you lately?! Did I not tell you I would rather die than let you inject me with your evil spawn-"

Something dark settles on Jake's face as he stops his ministrations.

There's a moment of disorientation before you realise that Jake spun your chair to face him. One hand on the back of the chair as he leans down, with your faces far too close for it not to be inappropriate.

"Would it really be so bad?" He whispers, before tilting his head to slot his mouth against yours.

Luckily your senses are heightened but still rational as you push him away, effectively standing up to create more distance between you two.

Jake, however, sees your plan and instead of letting you act it out, he slots you in between himself and the desk. Your butt pressing against the edge of the wood so there was no escape.

"No Jake," you say in frustration because now Jake's hands were pawing at your hips like he usually did when he was coaxing you into being as horny as he was. "Getting me pregnant wouldn't just be bad-"

"Perfect," he says, dipping down to place a kiss on your collar bone, "So we agree-"

"It'd be catastrophic. I'd abort it immediately." Jake's hands curl into your hips and you watch under furrowed brows as Jake begins to fiddle with the drawstring of his shorts.

"You're catholic," he says before dipping down to undo the buttons of your jeans. "You're not aborting my baby."

You think your boyfriend is utterly delirious, but even more harrowing is the bit of molten attraction stirring in the bottom of your stomach at seeing him so sure of something. So in charge.

His bare arms are glistening from playing rugby under the sweltering sun and his skin has that honey tint that drove you feral with lust.

You hated the urge that plagued your mind to push your thighs tightly together but Jake immediately stops you. He pushes your jeans down, leaving you standing dumbly with your mouth hanging open as he slots himself between your legs. You try to wriggle yourself away but Jake keeps you locked with his hands framing your sides.

"Last night was hot, yeah?" He huffs with his shorts hanging lazily under the bulge of his Calvin Kleins. He presses himself against you, moaning straight into the crook of your neck.

"J-Jeez, Jake," you whimper, unable to stop yourself from lifting your hips to meet his grinding, "Y-You're disturbing me from work-" speaking was growing very difficult, especially because Jake was unclipping your bra from behind. "Cus all you think about is sex-"

"All I think about is sex with you." He clarifies as wriggles you out of the v-neck.

"I don't think that's a crime-" he says, immediately cupping your breasts in his large hands as he pushes his cock further against you. Jake throws his head back before huffing and puffing while he stares down at you needily humping against him.

"You say you don't want it," he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip as he lifts his shirt, "but you're like a pup in heat, babe,"

"F-Fuck, if we're gonna do this, hurry before anyone comes," the words are like music to his ears and his exposed stomach flexes as he hurriedly pulls down his boxers.

You help him out of his shirt, and both your movements are so heated, so clumsy, you don't think you've ever been this wet.

"Fuck- you gotta be quick, big boy, before someone comes, yeah?" You repeat, knowing your boyfriend became completely unresponsive and pussy drunk during sex. Jake hums in weak response, far too focused on jerking himself off…the head of his cock periodically bumping against your clothed cunt.

"Say you want this dick- c'mon, say it-" he urges with heavy eyelids and all the fight is wiped out of you. You lean back, opening your legs to accommodate him further between you and Jake only groans as he jerks his cock.

"J-Jake, you can't cum in me, yeah-"

"Come on, bro," he groans as he brings his hand in between your legs. “Still?!”

His fingers prod at your clit as your hips stutter to meet his hand. "I'm just tryna get it in, why are you being like this?"

You manage to slip out a scoff in between your moaning.

"Y-You're not 'getting it in' until you divulge what on earth you're thinking about that has you this fucking feral." he was operating on neandthral level need and you needed to know what the cause of it was. You needed to know what had your boyfriend so strung out on your body, on the scent of you, at the sight of you.

You want this Jake all the time.

"You're so pretty," he mumbles, instead, with his gaze locked firmly on your cunt. He swipes your panties aside, unwilling to part with the cute pink material yet and you arch your back, inviting him in.

"If I tell you what I'm thinking about…" he says, lining his cock up with your cunt. Your entire back now pressed supine against the desk, "You'll end up pregnant before the end of the day," Jake concludes his statement by ramming his cock into your cunt, effectively lodging all your complaints in the back of your throat. The desk creaks as he continually rams his cock into you in viscous, rough thrusts.

He's a panting mess, watching your body contort in pleasure as your breasts jiggle with every thrust.

"Oh my fucking g- fuck-" Jake hovers over you, never once slowing his movements even when he tweaks your nipples.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that? Taking this dick so fucking good-"

You clench around him, loving how vulgar he got whenever you had sex. His hair is already messy but it becomes even more so when you drag your fingers through it, discarding the hair tie that kept his black curls rained to the back.

"Oh my god, baby, you're such a slut-" he lets his words slip and it only turns you on more and more as you drag him down for a sloppy kiss. Your hips rise to meet his thrusts, willing your orgasm to crest.

"B-Baby-” he pants, “Pretty Baby, I need to tell you something-" the second those words left his mouth in sloppy succession, your alarm bells were ringing. Even more so when he dipped his hands between your body until he was rubbing furious circles against your clit.

"J-Just, shh, Jakey, I'm close-"

"The condom broke, last night-"

Your hips still, but his continue to fuck into you- continues to rub at your clit until your body can't help but obey.

"WHA- OH FUCK, JUST LIKE THAT-" your seeing stars when the tip of Jake's cock rams against that particular pillow of nerves. "F-Fuck Jakey."

He was still your Jakey and he took that as a sign to continue fucking into you with reckless abandon.

"Gonna fill you up with my cum, again princess?"

"Jake-"

"Yesterday when you were riding me," he says in harsh staccato. His breath is rough and rugged. "A-And your hips were moving just right and your tits- God those tits." He leans back to watch them jiggle underneath them and Jake's balls squeezes in warning. "I just-" his voice cracks as he whines, "I just needed to flood you with my cum, baby-" your cunt squeezes his cock once more and you're both dangerously close to the edge.

"H-Here-'' he says, bringing your hand up to his throat. "Choke m-me, I think I'm gonna cum." His words alone have your back arching off the desk, slipping into your own orgasm.

“J-Jake-” Somehow you still muster the energy to choke him like he wants and that has his hips stuttering and the praises flying from his lips as he says, "F-Fuck, I'm cumming for you, Angel. You're milking my cock- babe-" his hips ram into yours as his eyes squeeze shut. Jake's caught in the ultimate pleasure as he imagines everything from your tits swelling with milk, to him fucking you while you were pregnant.

"O-Oh my fucking god," the amount of cum leaking out of his cock threatens to push him out of you, and you're both huffing in the quiet office air.

Soon you're both hurtling down to your current reality, but still, Jake keeps his hand on your hips, listening to your heartbeat.

"If you really don't want one - I'll go get you a plan b right now-"

"W-wait," you stop him from leavi⁷ng, "Let's... talk about it later. No promises."

Jake smiles, "No promises.”