#can't think of a bigger inconvenience

[five-rivers]

Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.

.

Interdimensional travel was hard.

It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.

"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"

"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.

"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.

"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."

"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."

"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.

"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."

"Then they ought not to summon you."

While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."

"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."

Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."

"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."

"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."

The Observants were silent.

"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"

The Observants scattered.

Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.

Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.

.

"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."

"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.

Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."

"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."

Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."

"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"

"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."

Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."

Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."

"You mean my Ghost King form."

"All your forms are your Ghost King form."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.

"It freaks people out, though."

"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."

"Is that likely?"

"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."

Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into

"You can do more than that."

"I can?"

"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."

.

The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.

This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.

They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.

And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.

The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.

It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.

Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzg��m nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"

Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"

"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"

"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"

"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"

"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."

"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"

"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.

The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"

"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.

"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"

"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."

Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.

"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"

"What did it say?" asked Batman.

"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."

Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.

"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"

"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."

"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"

"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."

A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...

"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.

The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"

"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."

"And just us, not our kids or anything?"

"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"

"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"

"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.

"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"

"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"

"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."

"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"

"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."

"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"

"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."

And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.

"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.

The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.

"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."

For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.

There was a burst of blinding light.

When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.

"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."

"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.

"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"

I've been summoned.

You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...

I can. You can't.

Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.

I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.

Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.

Close enough.

Figures (literally, 'certainly').

Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.

I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).

No! It's like being a parent.

Yes, one.

I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?

No! Gross!

No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Eddie is gushing about Steve to Robin and he mentions how it's so fucking metal the way he never shies away from danger. Like, quite the opposite, he literally jumps right into it without a second thought!

And suddenly Robin remembers how Steve wanted to be tortured by the actual real Russian secret service if it meant that his then friendly coworker who he never saw outside of Scoops would be at least a little bit safer. And she notices for the first time how Steve always makes sure that everyone is safe before he leaves a dangerous place - how he makes sure to always be the last one - and she thinks fuck.

(She feels so fucking bad. He is her best friend. Her soulmate. The person who knows her best and vice-versa. How has she never noticed this before?!)

They start paying closer attention to him, then. Neither like what they see. Steve's eyebags grow bigger with every day that passes. He doesn't eat a lot. He can never say no to others, no matter how much it inconveniences him. And when Robin and Eddie gush about what an awesome person he is, he gets an uncomfortable expression on his face and denies it. Robin had never noticed how most their interactions were self-deprecating jokes until now, either.

They need to stage an intervention.

The next time Steve walks through the doors of Family Video, Robin and Eddie are ready. They lay down all the facts and propose a simple deal: either go talk to a professional, or they will explain everything to the rest of the party and they will force him to talk to a professional. It will end the same way no matter what he chooses, might as well take the path with least resistance.

The only thing that sounds worse than paying a stranger to talk about his feelings is to be forced to talk about them to his friends, so he agrees.

He doesn't think it will make a difference, at first. It's not like he is allowed to talk about monsters and other dimensions.

The first session is awkward. But Robin and Eddie always look at him with such worried and expectant looks and he cannot bear to burden them in any way, so he starts opening up more. He can't talk about the time he almost got eaten by Demogorgons in a secret supernatural underground tunnelsystem, but he can talk about the time Billie almost beat him to death. He can't talk about the secret Russian operation beneath the mall, but he can talk about almost dying in the "mall fire". (His memories of his time there are all scrambled because of the drugs, anyway. It is more about the 'near-death' thing and never being able to feel safe, which he can talk about)

He doesn't mean to talk about his interpersonal relationships at first. But then his therapist cautiously asks him about his parents, and before he knows it he is spilling beans he didn't even know needed to be spilled. He talks about how he only seems to be friends with people who went through traumatic experiences with him, and what does that say about him? He talks about when he first realized that other kids are not left behind by their parents for months at a time. He finally starts unpacking the whole Nancy situation and realizes, wow, turns out he isn't nearly as over the whole thing as he'd hoped. (There are a lot of tears).

He seamlessly fills session after session, and at first he doesn't think that it makes much of a difference. Until the kids meet him after he is exhausted from a double shift at Family Video and beg him to drive them somewhere or other, and he can say no and not give in without fearing that they will cast him aside.

(Robin and Eddie are smug when they also notice the changes, but Steve supposes they have earned it this one time.)

[fluentmoviequoter]

We've Got a Problem

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!fiancée!reader

Summary: When you get arrested on Tim's day off, you have to call someone to get you out of jail. Tim doesn't answer when you call, but when he finds out what happened, he makes it a bigger problem.

Warnings: grumpy!Tim, fluff, mentions of homicide and drug trafficking; reader doesn't commit any crimes, so misunderstanding?

Word Count: 1.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

You can't decide what's funnier: that you are in police custody, that the arresting officers refused to believe that you are Tim Bradford's significant other, or that Tim isn't answering his phone.

When you switch tactics to call Wesley Evers instead of Tim, you decide that the last option is the funniest part of this ordeal.

"Hey," Wesley answers.

"This isn't a personal call," you begin with a chuckle. "Would you believe me if I said I'm currently being detained at LAPD Mid-Wilshire division on suspicion of a triple homicide and drug possession?"

"I really hope for Tim's sake you're joking."

"I'm not. I need a lawyer, Wesley. But I also need to ask you to find Tim to get me out. No one here will believe that he's my fiancé and he's not answering my calls."

"Can't imagine why they're so sure he's single. I'll get him down there and ask for the evidence. We'll get this thrown out, don't worry."

"I'll stop worrying when I'm out of here. Thank you, Wesley."

“Don’t hang up, I’m patching Tim in.”

“What do you want, Wesley?” Tim asks when the line connects.

“I want to know why you answer for him but not for me,” you interject.

Tim says your name before asking, “Where are you?”

“Jail,” you and Wesley answer together.

“What? Which station?”

“That’s your question?” Wesley replies. "Not what she did?"

“Your station,” you answer. “And I’d like to go home.”

“I’m on my way. Wesley, talk to me.”

“They’ve got her on suspicion of homicide and drug trafficking. Angela sent me part of the case file and it seems like you fit the physical description of the suspect, but that’s it. I have no doubt we can get this thrown out by the end of the day.”

“Tim, I’m sorry,” you offer. “I know it’s your day off.”

“At least it’s a good story,” he grumbles.

“Tim, I may have told a few cops that I’m your fiancée. They didn’t believe me, but I- I’m sorry for telling them.”

“Fantastic. I’m hanging up, I’ll be inside in a minute.”

“How mad is he really?” Wesley asks.

“I don’t think I want to know. Maybe I should’ve just asked you to come.”

“Good luck.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim yells your name when he walks into the holding area. He looks at you as you stand, walking to the cell door as another officer unlocks it.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper as you step out.

“Later,” Tim answers, gesturing for you to follow him.

You walk behind Tim and the officer, waiting by Tim’s side as he completes paperwork.

“And what’s your relationship?” the officer behind the desk asks.

“I’m her fiancé,” Tim answers.

The officer raises his eyebrows but nods as he slides a paper to Tim. Tim carries the paper in one hand, raising his other arm to direct you into a nearby office.

“Sergeant Grey, a word?” Tim asks.

“Sure. Who’s your friend?”

You say your name, shaking Sergeant Grey’s hand.

“My fiancée. Celina and Nolan just booked her on suspicion for Lopez’s case.”

Sergeant Grey presses his lips together but fails to hide his smile as he begins laughing, leaning backward while he wipes an amused tear from his eye.

“Let me guess, you told them that you’re with Bradford and they didn’t believe you.”

“Uh, exactly,” you answer, surprised at how quickly he determined what happened.

“I’ll talk to Nolan,” Grey promises.

“I can do it,” Tim responds.

“No, Bradford, I’ll handle it. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not, or I’ll intervene.”

“I’m sorry,” Grey tells you. “The charges won’t be filed, so you’re not going to be impacted other than the inconvenience this afternoon. I apologize on behalf of the entire department.”

“It’s not a problem,” you answer softly.

“It is a problem,” Tim says before exiting the office. “Nolan!”

“Tim,” you call, rushing out after him. “What’re you doing? They didn’t even believe me about you.”

“Not the biggest problem. Nolan!”

“Uh, yes?” Nolan asks, glancing over Tim’s shoulder at you.

“You arrested my fiancée on a completely baseless allegation. Because she looks a bit like a suspect in a huge case. That is not good police work, that’s being lazy and making connections where there are none.”

“I-“

“Unless you’re about to apologize, stop talking. Care to explain why you heard my name and didn’t do anything?”

“She claimed to be your fiancée. What was I supposed to do, just believe who I thought was a suspect in numerous felony cases?”

“Doesn’t sound like an apology.”

“What are you so mad about? I did my job.”

“You did what you think your job is. As a TO, it is on you to make sure Celina is prepared to do her job without you. Bringing people in because they fit what is possibly the most generic physical description ever is not being a good officer.”

“This doesn’t sound like letting me handle it,” Grey says, stepping out of his office.

Tim clenches his jaw before pointing at Nolan. “For the record, she is my fiancée and I will not forget this.”

“You have a fiancée?” Nyla asks as she stops in the middle of the bullpen. “Wait, are you the one who got brought in for Angela’s felonies? The one who called Wesley?”

“Yeah,” you answer, supplying your name as you introduce yourself.

“Oh, this story needs to be told.”

“Don’t,” Tim warns.

Nyla pulls her phone from her pocket, smiling as she types. “Too late.”

“So much for my day off,” Tim grumbles.

“I got arrested today, and you had a long day?” you ask.

“We’re leaving.”

Tim leads you to his truck, sighing as he sits back in the driver’s seat.

“Tim-“

“Don’t apologize again. I’m not mad at you, for anything. Just… this is so stupid,” Tim concludes, smiling as he laughs.

“You’re telling me. Although Nolan and Juarez got a good laugh out of the idea of you having a fiancée.”

“I don’t think that’s funny,” Tim responds. “I think I just got very lucky.”

You smile, leaning across the console to kiss Tim.

“Excuse me, you’re parked in a tow-away zone. Tim?” an officer asks through the open window. She gasps before asking, “Is this your fiancèe?”

“Bye, Chen.”

Tim pulls out before she can say anything else, and you laugh at his dramatic sigh.

“Can you stay out of trouble for the rest of my day off?” he asks.

“I may need some incentive.”

“Then spend it with me. Not calling Wesley Evers from a jail cell.”

“Deal.”

You take Tim’s hand and smile. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles, keeping you close as he drives to his house.

"Wait, we should take a picture," Tim says after parking in his driveway.

"For what?"

"To commemorate your first arrest."

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. Tim takes the picture, and when he looks down to see how it turned out, you cup his face in your hands and kiss him. While he's thoroughly distracted, you try to grab his phone, but he moves it before pulling you closer. Maybe getting arrested and letting Tim's coworkers know he's engaged wasn't all bad.

[meltedheartz]

thinking about ftm!reader and mean!izuku who thinks it's so cute how they just can't defend themselves against him :((

tw : college!au, dub-con, condescension, mild bullying (in a way), chubby reader, reader wears glasses, reader's a bit of a loser, dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (don't be silly, wrap that willy!), mating press, izuku's a whore for reader, praise and petnames, don't care how big you are cuz izu's bigger, gn pronouns used :3

word count : wrote this on a whim, so i honestly don't know..

it starts when you accidentally bump into him, stumbling back yet he was barely even startled. you apologize profusely, and izuku just waves you off at first.

you think it's rude, before rushing off to wherever you were trying to get too—forgetting about it.

but izuku spots you around that coffee shop near the campus, sees you in the hallways with books nearly stumbling from your arms, watches as you take notes as the professor speaks.

a couple of people whisper about you, how you never bother speaking to anyone, and how nervous you seem when someone approaches you.

it's like cornering a bunny, izuku thinks when he decides to speak to you.

well, it's more like being passive aggressive than actually conversing.

"wow, you're soo smart. you must be real fun to be around, huh? your voice is really high pitched, are you sure you're alright?"

you tell him to stop being a dickhead, if he doesn't wanna be around, he doesn't have to be. izuku waves you off and laughs, says you're like a startled animal that thinks it's intimidating, and it makes you frown.

"you're an ass," you poke at his chest, before picking up your bag and adjusting your glasses.

"hm? where are you going?" izuku pointedly ignores your insult, but it feels more ticklish than insulting or hurtful.

you ignore him right back, attempting to storm out of his dorm room. of all the people you get to work with, you get paired with him. it's annoying—more an inconvenience, than anything.

izuku watches as tears well up behind those clear rims you wear, sees the furrow in your eyebrow and nearly laughs at it, wants to call you a crybaby for it; just like everyone used to do to him.

he can sort of see why they did it, and when it comes down to someone as soft and quiet as you, it's nearly impossible to resist.

"we're not done with either of our parts. you don't need help on yours?"

when you don't answer, izuku takes it upon himself to grab you hard enough to stop you, but not enough to hurt. it causes a slight discomfort, makes your breathing stutter a bit as you sniffle and try to pull away—but you physically can't.

izuku speaks again, looming over you with a small scowl. "why are you ignoring me? i thought you wanted to get this done, what happened to that?"

you just wanna slap him for asking that. he knows the answer — knows exactly what he did wrong and why you got fed up.

"let go of me. i'll work on my part by myself, dickweed."

"nuh-uh, that's not fair to either of us, is it?" izuku coos, grabbing your bag for you and tossing it onto the futon he has sitting just a little bit away.

you sniffle again, more tears welling up and threatening to tip over and down onto your chubby cheeks, and you can't even wipe them away cuz you're arguing with such an asshole.

you seem so frustrated and angered, but he knows that instead of yelling, you cry. it's pathetic, makes him wanna bite your cute face and boop your nose just to see you sniffle some more.

"you mad at me?" izuku asks, tugging you back into the small apartment that you stupidly decided to visit to get your joint assignment done.

"this is stupid — let me go, midoriya." he frowns at that, his grip loosening just a bit before it tightens again.

he clicks his tongue and drags you right back to his room, with all the superhero posters and expensive collectors items that can't be found anywhere else.

izuku sits you down but doesn't let you go—hasn't let go of your arm since he got a hold of it. "what happened to calling me by my name?"

"that is your name," you snark back. you watch as his eyes narrow a bit and he makes his way on to the bed, looming over you.

you feel.. small. it's not like you were ever bigger than him, he goes to the gym more times a week than you can keep track of and is over 6'0" — of course you aren't bigger than him.

"don't get smart with me honey. you know you don't wanna do that." izuku sighs and makes you lay down, and you feel your heartbeat speed up as your eyes widen.

you struggle and squirm, but he just smiles and puts more of his weight on you, making it near impossible to even move.

"m-midoriya—"

"izuku. say it," he breathes out, tucking his face into the crook of your neck almost forcefully.

he hears you hiccup, sees as the tears flow over and how your eyes get all glassy—all doe-eyed and he laughs.

"izuku, get off me—" you try to move again, you feel the grip around your wrist tighten more and it feels more and more uncomfortable as it does.

"i love you. you're so cute, what would you have done if it was someone else on top of you? hm?" izuku raises his head to look at you, and feels bad.

feels that guilt of actually making you cry, seeing how scared you are of him. "ah-ah, shh. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you upset, okay?"

that doesn't make the tears stop, but izuku thinks it's fine. the apology sounds genuine—more genuine than the usual sarcastic 'sorry' he gives you, more genuine than the mean laughs he gives you after making you throw a crumbled paper ball at him.

"i hate you, you're s-so mean," you hiss, wanting to kick and scream at him.

you feel the hold he has on your wrists loosen, but he doesn't let go entirely. but it's more than enough for you to wriggle free.

izuku smiles again, "i know. i know, 'm sorry."

the words that leave his mouth make you hiccup and stare at him, the typical scowl you always give izuku on your lips.

"you never show that you're actually sorry." you sniffle, and have to move to wipe the onslaught of tears the stumble down your pretty face.

izuku pauses when you say that, eyes grazing over your face before he lights up.

"how about i prove it, would that make you feel better?"

"s-slow down—"

"mgh—s-sorry," izuku gasps, but doesn't make any move to slow down, hips stuttering into yours as he watches you shake and clutch at the sheets.

it's been a little over thirty minutes, you think, but you're not sure. it's not like you can think when you can feel izuku's pretty cock all the way in your tummy—making sure you know he's actually sorry.

he spent all his time before this slurping at your pretty cunt, fingering you to completion as he sucked at your cute clit and made sure you felt good.

even now, izuku was trying to make sure you felt as good as you possibly could with him, watching your eyes roll back with every thrust into you.

"love you s'much, soo soft n pretty-" izuku whines, kissing you all sloppily yet so lovingly.

it makes you clench up around him, trying to close your legs but you jus can't because of the mean mating press he has you in.

"such a good boy for me, yeah?" the words paired with his dick stirring up your guts make you wail.

it's almost too much, but it's not enough as you cream around his cock—a milky white ring forming at the base of it as he pants and gasps right next to your ear.

he pounds a little faster—a little harder before his thrusts get sloppier and nearly lose rhythm. you can barely see his face without your glasses and the tears blurring your vision further.

but izuku makes sure that you can hear him good and well as he moans and whines, feeling the blunt tip press against your cervix as though it never wants to leave.

"shit, shit— 'm cumming," he gives short little thrusts as he does, cumming harder than he has in months just knowing that he finally has you.

you're both sweaty and you feel a little icky, embarrassed at all the crying you did. izuku kisses you—softer than he did before, wiping some hair from your face as he does.

"love you." izuku mutters. he doesn't care if you don't say it back, just as long as you know he loved you at the very least.

"i love you too."

A/N ; i haven't written smut or anything in MONTHS. i hope this is good in some parts, it's very rushed and not well thought outt :((

b4 anyone asks, minors are allowed to interact with my account. i don't care, as long as you aren't under 15. i fully understand that you guys have hormones, and the "minors dni" thing is straight bullshit to me. luv you guys, i will be making an account intro, but it won't be anytime soon cuz i'm lazy.. ＼(≧▽≦)／

[lackofspace]

Hey! this has been on my head for a while, so I'm just gonna leave it here and hope that it leaves my mind :)

ps: I wrote this really fast, I did not check for misspellings at all, english is not my first language and it's my first time writing anything!!! so please thread lightly lol

birdflash where they've been friends so long that Wally has known Dick's and Bruce's id's before most of the rest of the family were even adopted, close enough that when Wally 'retires' and goes to college he still recieves texts from Dick's siblings asking for help with cases or homework when Dick himself isn't available and so, we come to our plot

Bruce is getting married (to whom is up to you) and while Wally sees himself as a close family friend he doesn't get an invite, which, in his mind it's fine since well it's Bruce Wayne/Batman it'll probably be a really small lowkey thing only family and some friends and he's honestly not upset at all until he's hanging out in the Manor a couple of weeks before the wedding with Jason and Damian that it comes up

'Did you get fitted today?' Jason asks Damian, he's typing in his phone slanted over a armchair in the corner of the library

'Yes, although I do not see the need for another suit' He's in front of Wally with his physics homework open in the room's coffe table, 'Father seems to think we are all heathens who cannot keep a suit intact for more than a night' the comment clearly a jab

'Ah yes, I'm sorry mister prim and proper, it was not my intention to inconvenience you' Jason rolls his eyes still glued to his phone

'What about you, Wallace? Do you have a suit? Do make sure you get an approval from Alfred, the ceremony will be an informal one but he would hate the family photos not looking proper because of your two sizes bigger attire' Damian says not even looking up from his notebook

'Well then Alfred will be happy to hear he does not have to worry because I'm not coming' He responds laughing a bit

And that makes them both look up in sync with matching glares that make Wally jump a bit

'Why ever not? Do you have prior arrangements? I understand if that's the case but surely they can be postponed?' Damian frowns

'Is it college stuff? The wedding is going to be on a sunday, no way it's college, you're a nerd so there's also no way you can't skip having to study for a test for one day' Jason remarks, he's sitting up now phone forgotten

Wally is surprised with how much his absence at the wedding seems to annoy them

'It's nothing like that guys, I just didn't get an invitation, I figured your dad is doing a lowkey thing and there's not going to be many guests so I get it, I'm not mad or anything' He says in a tone that seems to be to placate them and he does not understand why

'But I swear I'm not upset! Don't tell your dad, I don't want to cause any trouble for the preparations and I'm sure everything will be beautiful' he spills the words quickly before they can interrupt him

'You were not invited?' Damian says face contorting into a frown even more

'Uh yeah, Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris got one, it wasn't metioned I could come and I swear I wasn't- am not! upset but, I asked Donna if she was invited and she said that she was, through Diana, so I guessed that if Barry and Iris' invitation didn't mention anything then... yeah' he says shrugging

'What the hell?' Jason exclaims picking up his phone and texting someone 'Did you only ask Donna?'

'Yeah?' Wally says, unsure

'Roy is coming too' Jason tells him

'Oh?' Wally doesn't know if that's supposed to make him feel better

'I invited him, dipshit, we were all granted plus ones, even the demon brat is bringing someone'

'They are coming as a friend' Damian remarks glaring 'Richard should have communicated you sooner'

'Uh well maybe Dick is bringing someone else?' and if until now nothing about the situation had particularly made him sad, this thought springing in to his head and out his mouth made his hands ache because of course, of course he was just another among many in love with the absolute sun that was Dick Grayson

While they remained friends Wally had made his feelings known sometime ago, the rejection had hit hard but it was true that their friendship was more important so they tried to keep as they were, unfortunately communication became strained and they didn't hang out as much that with college and Wally's feelings between them and so it escaped Wally why his siblings thought that he would be Dick's plus one for a wedding, his father's wedding no less

'This is important, maybe he thought bringing me might be weird?' This is not where Wally thought his impromptu tutoring session/hang out was going to go, he feels somehow like he's in the wrong for not getting an invitation with the way they are looking at him

'Bruce didn't send invites to those he knew were coming anyway' Jason states 'Dickhead was supposed to invite you'

'I'm sorry...? but he didn't, guys let's forget about this ok? I'm sure Dick has his reasons, the ceremony is going to look amazing and you guys can show me pictures later, how about that?' trying to end the subject less they discover why he does not appear at the manor unannounced anymore and why he chose a university so far away

that's kind all I have in me ya'll, this was mostly trying to show how much Dick and Wally are so involved in each other's lives that they become a package deal to everyone else, the story is supposed to go: batgossip and confusion since they know Dick is in fact in L O V E with Wally and bat siblings scheming while birdflash pine, ANGST!!! (the whole reason I wrote this honestly, I love angst and requited unrequited feelings), feelings realization and their happy ever after weeks later when Wally shows up as Dick's plus one

[undiscovered-horizon]

Return to sender - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[graphic descriptions of violence/injury]

SUMMARY: Someone from your past keeps sending you unambiguously romantic letters. While you think of them as nothing beyond an inconvenience, Kaz has a different opinion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.9k

A/N: I'm going through the first editorial correction for my novel and as it turns out, I can't speak my own mother tongue lmao

Kaz has an eye for details. Whether it’s a pattern or an overlooked design, he always notices. That set of skills, either he learned them or was born with them, made it painfully obvious to him that your foul mood coincided with correspondence he never saw you actually read. The letter usually ends up in the nearest fireplace, its secrets never uncovered and you maunder around the club looking for a fight or a strong drink. A much bigger problem, however, was the fact that if you were in a sour mood, Kaz would become exceptionally chippy without an apparent cause. ‘Care for my investment’ he calls it, which makes a rather amusing euphemism.

In any event, he knows that the letter should arrive today. Exactly seven weeks had passed since the last time some mysterious correspondence pissed you off and the sender, as far as Kaz has noticed, is like clockwork. Strangely enough, he can’t recall a day when the letter should arrive that you’d come to the club already annoyed as though he has become privy to a rather obvious pattern that you remain oblivious to. If so, he has even more advantage - he can solve this inconvenience behind your back, in case you’d try to dismiss him. He wouldn’t listen anyway, of course. Not when it comes to you.

Knowing very well that you have a habit of arriving shortly after Inej, he’s quick to find the thief before you even get a chance of catching wind of his scheme. She’s fixing her clothes when she spots him hastily limping towards her with his face turned nearly into a snarl. A hand brushes through his hair. He’s agitated. But Inej knows better than to make the first move against the unmovable mountain. Kaz sought her out, after all, and if he means business, he won’t waste time.

And he does just as she thought. Speaking in a low tone, Kaz makes her part of his conspiracy: “Inej, I need you to do something but no one else can know. Someone will deliver a letter today. Follow them and find out as much as you can,” his voice is stern, not accepting refusal. The matter appears urgent, of utter importance.

Her keen gaze studies his face for a moment, looking for any way even the slightest tick of muscles could reveal a further piece of the mystery she isn’t yet privy to. “Is this about the new job we’re doing?” She elegantly manoeuvres around the subject.

Kaz knows what she’s trying to do. He clenches his jaw and gives her a blank, although somewhat impatient, look before slowly answering: “It’s rather loosely related.”

This is enough to put her curiosity on hold - for now, at least. The unmovable mountain remains, well, unmovable. Inej nods. “I’m on it.”

The moment she ends her sentence, the door to the club opens with a creek echoing through the otherwise empty venue, immediately earning the undivided attention of Kaz and Inej. The sound of heels against the wooden floor is unmistakable as is the fitting, rather short, coat. Inej smiles, stifling laughter as she notices Kaz immediately straightening his back when he sees you.

There’s a certain spring to your step, one that Kaz has learned to associate with complacency. Although this joyous aura is making his mind turn into quicksand swallowing anything coherent, he’s got enough grip on his thoughts to render his theory proved - you really do not have any idea that the letters come regularly. 

With a triumphant grin, you wave a scroll in his face. “I had a hunch and did some browsing at the city archives. You’re going to love it.”

Inej is gone and the only thing Kaz can do at the moment is wait along with trying his best not to think about this mail fiasco. But considering you’ll spend the entire day a mere inch or two away from him, he’s hardly going to do much thinking anyway. 

“Let’s see it then,” Kaz interposes before turning around and walking back to his office. 

Making his way to Brekker’s office, Jesper examined the expensive stationery from every side and angle. No matter the perspective, the cursive letters on the front still spell out your name. Truthfully, he does that every time you receive mail, mainly because of how little you talk about the possible sender. There’s always a huff, an eye-roll and the envelope ends up turned into ashes, without any further explanation. You become short-tempered for the rest of the day and go ballistic on anyone trying to inquire about the mysterious correspondence. As much entertainment as it usually brings Jesper, he’s smart enough to know when to stop poking the bear.

Jesper knocks on the door but opens them right after - announcing his arrival rather than asking for permission to enter. 

“...smuggling through the sewers.” He hears you finishing your sentence.

Both you and Kaz simultaneously tear away your gaze from the maps scattered on the table and bore your eyes into Jesper with anticipation. He lifts the letter, wriggling his wrist slightly, and immediately your expression falls. You clench your fist. A contemptuous grimace creeps onto your face.

“Letter for you,” he announces.

“By the Saints, not this again,” you whisper and roll your eyes.

“What do you mean again?” Jesper asks casually, half expecting you to break his hand and half hoping for an answer. Today, as it turns out, is his lucky day.

“A friend once convinced me to go to some socialite high tea with her. I met someone there, we wrote to each other a few times and then he started to be obnoxious, the whole ‘woe is me’ lark.” The memory must still be vivid to you as you let out an annoyed sigh. “He claimed he can’t live without me while never spelling my name correctly. But since I value myself a little too much to waste my time on pity parties, I simply stopped replying. The last letter I sent him, I don’t know, three years ago? And he just keeps coming back.” You clench your jaw, clearly stopping yourself from a string of profanities considered obscene even in this company.

Jesper puts on a playful grin. “You know, you never struck me as someone who’d have a secret admirer.”

Your irritated gaze makes him equally amused and nervous. “He’s not exactly secret, is he? More of a returning cockroach infestation. Worry not, boys, I’ll just burn this one like the rest and we can all forget about this little perplexity.”

“Come on, you’re not even a little bit curious about what’s inside?” Jesper coaxes as he hands you the letter.

“Believe me when I tell you that I don’t give a rat’s bald ass about this man and his pathetic wax poetic.” You snatch the envelope, all the while looking at your friend with squinted, piercing eyes. Considering who you are, a complete lack of curiosity whatsoever might as well be a symptom of a lethal disease.

In that short moment, when the stationery goes from Jesper’s hand into yours, Kaz watches the letter as closely as he can. Smooth paper, probably expensive. Careful lettering, written with patience and thoughtfulness. An aroma of mint and tobacco lingers on the parchment. The stamp has the current date on it and the postal code is only a few numbers away from the club’s - whoever sent it is in Ketterdam and quite close by.

Kaz makes those little observations just in time because you throw the letter into the fireplace behind him, without even glancing at the paper. The flames grow for a few seconds, devouring the dry stationery. Soon, there’s no evidence that any mail has been delivered to you on this day.

“Now, where were we?” You clap your hands. “Ah, sewers.” Jesper takes the change of subject as his cue to leave but you stop him right when he pushes down the door handle. “Oh, and Jesper? If you tell Inej, I’m ripping your arm off and beating you to death with it.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, a newfound sense of anxiety turning his vivid amusement into somewhat tame courtesy, leaving his smile unfaltering but tearing away the genuine joy behind it. “I will keep this enlightening piece of advice in mind, thank you.”

The door clicks as Jesper closes it behind himself. Returning to your previous engagement, you stumble upon Brekker’s stern gaze of disapproval. 

“Do not maim my investments.” Although it’s supposed to be a scolding or a threat, it comes out with a certain note of disinterest.

“Don’t try playing all nice, Kaz. You and I both know you’d watch for like ten minutes before stepping in.”

His gloved finger taps the map. “Sewers.” 

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yes, sir’ and pick up the single-handed divider again. Kaz examines your face out of the corner of his eye. Judging by your casual demeanour, the palm’s length between your heads is of no bother to you. Maybe you’re just too busy counting the segments with the divider. When you’re done, you reach for the other side of the desk, for a moment leaving broody Kaz to the, surprisingly cold, lukewarm air filling the room.

This day just can’t seem to end for Burr Lowther. First, he had to take his regular trip into the filth of the Barrel, he shudders at the memory, only to then spend another ten hours at the sewing workshop. Being a foreman pays exceptionally well and perhaps this is the only reason he’s still putting up with those lazy needlewomen. 

Putting his well-kept coat on the hanger by the front door, Burr lets out a sigh of relief - compared to the factory, his house is a quiet oasis. He remembers to take out a pouch and a box of expensive cigars from his coat. Without much thinking, he opens the small bag and puts another leaf of mint between his teeth. What started first as an addition to his personal hygiene, has quickly become a habit impossible to kill. Now used to the strong, chilly sensation on his tongue, he’s grown to like it. 

The house is drowning in darkness. Dim, yellow light from the streetlamps crawling in through the windows is barely enough to let him make his way around the furniture. Foreman Lowther is yet to start the fire in his living room but he needs to be quick - if he stalls too long his joints will begin to hurt. Even with laudanum, the ache is bound to keep him up for hours and that’s something he can’t afford. But first, he needs some light to be able to get the necessary things.

Chewing on the herb, Burr walks to the table across the room from the fireplace. He puts the new box of cigars down and begins looking for something to light the oil lamp. Once he blindly finds a box of matches, his muscle memory does most of the job - he’s lit up the lamp far too many times to think about the actions. In swift, mechanical motions, Burr takes off the chimney, lights the wick and puts the glass part back on. The fire brightens the rest of the table, reminding the foreman that he forgot to put away the made-to-order McKinnon & Co. stationery. He pushes the paper farther away from the lamp, just in case.

Burr’s knees make a cracking noise when he crouches in front of the fireplace. Carefully, he lights a match and puts it between logs and old newspapers. The fire smoulders for a moment, balancing between starting and being put out, before a bigger flame begins gnawing at the dry wood and paper. 

Foreman Lowther is about to stand up when something hits the side of his head, making his face clash with the seat of a nearby armchair. Scurrying and turning around, he sees an outline of a man, looking more like a feverish mare of the night than a real human. He’s thin and tall, dressed rather elegantly. The model crow on his cane glistens in the newly started fire.

“Who are you?” Burr’s voice cracks, giving away his panic.

“A scorned businessman, Burr Lowther,” Kaz explains slowly.

The foreman climbs backwards into the armchair. It’s difficult to look imposing while sitting beside a fireplace but his fear is far too severe to let the man stand on his own two feet.

“I’ve no business with you!” he yells. A few droplets of spit fly out of his mouth. “Get out!” Burr’s shaky hand points vaguely in the direction of the front door but Kaz, as it seems, is not going anywhere just yet.

In slow steps, Kaz gets closer to Burr, the difference in height painting him even more menacing. Lowther’s hand falls limp on a small table meant for trays with food.

“Perhaps you don’t. But I have plenty with you.”

Before foreman Lowther can ask another question, Brekker drives a sharp blade through the man’s palm, pinning it to the wooden counter. A howl of pain cuts through the night, scaring away the birds sitting outside the windows. Thick, crimson blood spills from the wound, falling to the floor in long drops. The fireplace’s flame glistens in the growing puddle, the reflection dances in morbid anticipation.

Kaz walks over to the table with the oil lamp. The first thing that catches his eye is the ivory paper. Somehow, he stifles the visceral reaction it elicits from him. Grabbing the wad of stationery, he folds it a few times and puts it in the inner pocket of his coat. Then his gaze trails towards the wooden box of cigars. The name of the company, Starling, is burned in cursive lettering on the front. In a swift movement, Kaz slides the package open, knowing exactly what he’s going to find inside - a cigar cutter. For people who can afford Starling tobacco products, it definitely doesn’t befit to chew off the end.

Firelight cascades off the metal cutter when Kaz turns back towards Burr. The man’s eyes widen in panic, recognizing the sharp device put against him.

“No, sir,” Burr begs with a frantic shake of his head. “Oh, Saints, please, no! Don’t! I’m begging you, sir! Please, please! No, please!”

Brekker’s face doesn’t change its indifferent expression. The pleading is not putting him off, never faltering his already-made decision. Perhaps, if it isn’t too morbid to consider, he’s enjoying having someone at his mercy. The cigar cutter clicks quietly as Kaz closes it a few times to check the state of the mechanism.

Kaz makes his way back to the foreman. Casually, he puts his cane against the table but away from the nailed palm, careful not to get it dirty. Then, he snatches Burr’s other hand, the swiftness diminishing all doubts that he’s inexperienced in bringing suffering.

“You have laid your hands on something that isn’t yours, Lowther,” Brekker explains as he forces one of the man’s fingers through the cutter’s opening. “Now you must pay for it.”

A muscle in his face ticks as he presses the cigar cutter. Burr howls in agony, tears streaming down his face. The finger falls to the floor with a wet slap as blood begins to pour. The white tip of the bone sticks out from the pulsating flesh, glistening in the warm, dim light of the burning fireplace.

In a feverish delirium, Lowther mumbles something under his nose, the string of incomprehensible words sometimes interrupted by sobs. Kaz can understand only two things from the ramblings of a madman: ‘wench’ and ‘reply’. Scarce information but he hardly needs more.

“Wench?” he repeats in a low voice.

With a snap of his wrist, Kaz twists the knife still residing in the man’s hand. A bone cracks. But there’s no scream this time - not an ounce of strength left in the victim. Lonely tears stream down his grey face, mixing with cold sweat as he blankly stares ahead. A gloved hand yanks his head back by the hair, forcing delirious Burr to look into Brekker’s eyes. They look darker than they should, clouded with something far too horrible to be considered human.

“Not only did you lay your filthy hands on something of mine,” Kaz’s voice is low enough to resemble a growl as though something carnal inside him has finally woken from its slumber, “but you also dare insult her.”

Burr makes a strange guttural noise, something between a gag reflex and a murmur, as another one of his fingers is cut off. Considering his vacant expression, it’s hard to say whether his consciousness even registered the loss.

Kaz tosses away the cigar cutter. It clutters and clicks falling in the largely unknown corner of the room. Reaching inside his coat, he pulls out the folded stationery. Pressing tightly on Burr’s cheeks, he forces the man’s mouth open.

“I don’t think you will be needing this anymore.”

Even if foreman Lowther was in his right mind at the moment, there wouldn’t be much he could do to prevent Kaz from shoving the dry paper down his throat. A match, a spark, a smoulder - the ivory stationery is burning inside Burr’s mouth.

Leaving Burr Lowther to his own devices, Kaz Brekker leaves the house, joining the otherwise grey and indifferent citizens of Ketterdam. The sunrise is just a few hours away. He’s making his way back to the club, uninterrupted and unbothered, to enjoy another day of your hardly divided attention.

[lyrenminth]

Can I request a fluff okay y/n is small and having a play fight with Justin luv ya 😉

Anon! Thank you for your patience! I hope you like it, I had so much fun writing it. Somehow I think Justin would be abrupt with his actions since he grew with two brothers, but he can learn to treat you less harshly 😅

Play fight

Play fight with your 6'6 athletic boyfriend wasn't the best idea knowing damn well he had to be extremely careful with you since that last time he almost broke your nose with the kitchen cabinet. Justin felt so bad he almost cried.

But you wanted to play. Justin was in the garden, picking up the fallen leaves when you tackled him from behind. He moved a couple of inches, and looked down at you. You were shoeless and the grass made you slip a bit, but you keep trying, grabbing him by the waist and pushing.

"What are you doing?" he asked, curious and patient as always.

"We're fighting and I'm currently winning" you announced, a little bit out of breath. You started climbing him like a koala.

"Oh, no. I can't lose" he said, his big hands grabbed your waist and lifted you up so easily you shrieked. "Justin!" he lifted both arms and you were fighting in the air. "Pull me down!"

He put you on the grass in a very fluid movement. Once in the ground, you walked around him, measuring his reaction which was none. He was there... standing with a slight smile on his face. In a moment of distraction, you jumped and grabbed his neck, pulling him down, he bent for seconds then let his own weight down, crushing you in the process. "Oof" you said "I kinda like this" he started tickling you on your sensitive spot: the ribs.

You laughed until it starting to hurt. "Stop, stop, stop! You win!" he was between your legs, and you felt something hard pressed against your thighs. You grabbed his face between your hands and gave him a smooch. "You're not rival for me" he said, playfully. "Now you're my prisoner"

You gasped. "Oh, no! Please, let me go. I'll be a good girl" you joked in a high pitched tone. When he moved again putting your arms above your head. "Or your sexual slave, whatever you want" he purred and dig into your neck to kiss it, the stubble made you ticklish and try to set free. "I'm in a very inconvenient position" you said, trying not to moan as he left wet kisses. "You are bigger...ah" he bite your earlobe, and you try to close your legs, but he was there "...and stronger than me"

"I am" he grunted. You tried to liberate yourself unsuccessfully. "I demand a rematch" you said, breathless. He was still kissing your neck. "It's only fair" he looked at you, his green eyes were darker. He studied your face. "What if I win?"

"I-I am going to make dinner for a month" you suggested. He didn't like it, so he started kissing you again. With a free hand he roamed your body, squeezing your breasts. "And mmm massages for free?"

"I can take that" he said, standing up and bringing you up with him.

"It's a rematch then" you smiled.

[bogleech]

With most insects and things I can understand that they have a place in the ecosystem, but I have trouble understanding the same thing with bed bugs. Are they just like. Kind of domesticated ticks? How did they end up almost solely indoors (to my understanding)? I had them in my apartment a while back and it was a pretty traumatizing experience. I know they don’t carry diseases like mosquitos and are really more mentally/emotionally harmful than physically harmful.

I saw your post about how we should be thankful the world isn’t so sterile that there’s no living thing left to harm or inconvenience us. And I do agree! But I think bedbugs are the one thing that I have trouble fully grasping that concept with. It’s harder to see the bigger picture with something that occurs in such a small and personal space, I suppose.

I can't find the post where I launched into this before but tiny bloodsucking animals ("micropredator" is growing as the preferred term over lumping them in with "parasites" per se!) exert a lot of important pressures on their host animals; everyone knows predators change how animals eat, sleep, mate, nest together and migrate, but so do the things that just "annoy" them, like having fleas! Additionally "micropredators" work together with predators and diseases in regulating population balance, and by taking nutrients non-lethally from their hosts, they help redistribute energy back into circulation! A little flea or tick or bed bug collects a little blood protein from a bear, it gets eaten by a spider or it dies and rots, and now that bear's protein energy is back in the food web well before the bear has passed on! All throughout that bear's life, its blood is "becoming" all these little pesky bugs that then become food for other things! When it comes to bed bugs, which are closely related to stinkbugs, assassin bugs, aphids and other "true bugs," they adapted to live in bird's nests, bat caves, rodent dents, anywhere juice-filled vertebrates come home to and rest, and the ones that feed on us are so closely related to a bat-specialized species you can only barely tell them apart:

The "bat bug," however, can't utilize human blood well enough to maintain an infestation on human hosts alone! They fully require bats!

We aren't sure when some bat bugs branched off and started traveling with humans, but we do know that they used to be MUCH MUCH EASIER to deal with. Perfectly ordinary pesticides used to clear up a bed bug problem just fine. That changed when we invented DDT and tried to use it to wipe them out altogether. It's one of the harshest synthetic poisons ever developed, and it kills through just an ion channel in the animal's nervous system. By drenching North America in DDT for years on end, we "seemingly" wiped out bed bugs and a few other things, but really all we did was give a few generations of human beings a bunch of new chronic illnesses and give a few generations of insects a mutation that makes them resistant to not just DDT but lots and lots of other poisons.

Bed bugs basically destroy people's lives but never naturally evolved to be that good at it; it's just another result of capitalism ignoring the warnings of the scientific community. People died rich off DDT before they ever had to care about its after effects.

[pricegouge]

As I have also been victim of the Christmas flu, I have ideas.

Nik not caring at all if he gets sick and just absolutely babying his sweet malyushka.

Having trouble keeping even water down? He’ll hold an ice cube in your mouth to suck on so you don’t overwhelm your stomach.

Makes sure you always have a cold compress on your head.

Lets you fall asleep on his chest while he rubs your legs.

Once you can hold down food he’s hand feeding you.

Has you set up in his bed because it’s bigger and the tv is better there.

Just don’t mind too much if you wake up with his cock gliding between your thighs. He deserves something for all his work.

-🗡️

i feel like i def outted myself as someone who literally never gets sick when i answered that ask so hey, thanks for these thoughts cause now i'm unwell in a different way.

just imagine waking up in his bed, sheets soft and wrinkled. you'd snuffle around to find his scent if you could, but with your nose all stuffed up, you settle for blinking your eyes open to be sure, brow furrowing in frustration despite the low light. he's hovering over you in seconds, blocking out the ambient light and sushing you, lulling you back into the warm embrace of your fever and the ample meds he's administered. you go willingly, the soft and warm and numb, trying to forget all your little aches and pains and inconveniences. the next time you wake he's tucked up behind you, thick fingers in your mouth as you suckle at the ice he's holding against your tongue. he's muttering something you could maybe understand if you concentrated, but you can't. not when the contrast of the ice in your mouth and the heat of his cock between your legs has you dizzy, your thoughts slow and bubbly with pyrexia. you think he feels it too, panting hotly against your neck every time his cock slips past your feverish cunt, low voice grinding to a halt each time you feel him twitch against you. it's all too much, has your breath coming heavy and humid against his pillow when his seed burns your stomach. you think it's because you're about to boil out of your skin until his hairy thigh wedges between your own, heavy palms wrapping around your hips to rock you against him. you're the most alert you've been in days now, but he's in your ear anyway, voice low and soothing as he can manage as he assures you you can go back to sleep if you want, malyshka, he's got you.

[rayroseu]

Rambles about Book 7 lol

AAAAAAAÀAAA 😭😭😭 THIS IS SO AUGHHH THE MEANING BEHIND THIS INFO !!!!!! knowing that the first thought of Lilia in encountering Silver was that he should kill him to avenge Meleanor and Levan and that his purpose of adopting him is that he wants to believe he can love a human as well AND LILIA TEACHING THIS HUMAN BABY HOW TO LIVE DESPITE THE MANY CHANCES HE GOT TO GET RID OF HIM AUGJAURIWUTJW AND MAY I SAY LILIA WENT FROM DISTANTLY BEING ATTACHED TO THIS BABY AND THEN TRANSITIONING UNTO WANTING FOR HIM TO LIVE AND WITNESS HIM GROW UP AAAAAAA😭😭✨✨✨

IF I CRYYYY MELEANOR HAUNTS THE NARRATIVE 😭💞💕💞✨

LMAO not the faes snitching this info to malleus ofmg 😭✨

lowkey this is me as well i think babies are kinda ugly too KDHJAEJ especially when they cry 💀🔥🔥

YOU CALL THIS ADORABLE HELPPPP 🤣🤣🤣okay but in all seriousness, we rarely get this easy sarcastic Malleus, he's always too formal around NRC and often his humor lands amiss to other charas which doesnt prompt him to present this trait, but its so sweet that he seemed to be "truly himself" in the cottage scenes where its just him Lilia and Silver🥺✨ his voice doesnt feel "authoritative" too like a dorm leader, its just malleus and his difficulty in getting along with the random baby lilia caught lol

I remember this line was translated as a flower nectar?? but they kinda saying the same and i like this paraphrase that Lilia thinks of Milk as nectar for baby humans, like how Malleus often relates tech to some magical ritual lol

crying at this line, knowing that Malleus says this because he has broken several many things bcs he couldnt control his strength and perhaps there were things that Lilia owns that he accidentally destroyed as well so he tries to mend this uncontrollable strength of his in order to not be an inconvenience😭✨

NURSEMAID???? YEAH NURSEMAID CALLED LILIA VANROUGE 😭😭💔💔💔 and AAAAA not once did Malleus search for this tune??? not even sing it to Maleficia and Lilia so as to inquire about it 😭✨💔💔 this is when you know this lullaby IS truly MELEANOR'S LULLABY because everyone of the characters only heard it from her !!!😭😭😭💔💔

I love this response from Malleus lol, also i feel like some situation will challenge Lilia's love for humans again, like can you still love humans if they commit the same crime again to Malleus as they did with Meleanor?? Twisting their personality and actions so as to validate their fear?? Can you still say that faes should make an effort to make peace with them when repeatedly it was the humans who wasnt willing to udnerstand faes to begin with ? 😭✨ its a realistic worry fitting for a king that'll rule for centuries, maybe bcs he has this instinct that humans are epehemeral and so are their promises.

Thinking about it a bit more, its true that what Levan does is futile effort because the issue between humans and faes, Briarland and Silver Owls is too much that it cant be resolved by just understanding each other.

Levan wants the war to stop but obviously that can't happen because the bigger factions of each natioj are resolute at their stance that Briarland is owned by faes or humans, no in between. He can't immediately fix the mentality of higher faes and Meleanor with their hatred of humans and vice versa with the human officials like Henric,

but what he can do to decrease the casualties of this conflict is to pave way for the COMMON folk to understand each other, if he can make way for the common fae and the common human to talk to each other, then it might decrease the misunderstanding between the common fae and common human (assuming that both parties arw willing to be understanding)

its really a long shot and a gamble to aspire for considering his country's situation, and its effects would take a while to impact and honestly it took so much important people and years just to have his dream of peace, i wish we could get an input about what he feels about this

considering his kindness he might be happy, but im kinda sad its really tragic the implication of how the faes had to earn their peace and atone for a conflict that they didnt even start with,

based on Lilia, it took 400 YEARS just for the humans to sign a peace treaty, maybe in the eyes of the faes, thats just a piece of paper, so they waited and grieved the lost of their Princess Meleanor and many of their fae soldiers and Prince Levan and ALMOST the entirety of their continent, just for these humans to sign an 400 year long overdued peace treaty?? so the faes that died couldve been saved if these humans could spare some compassion and ink to sign a treaty-- It kinda feels like they're insulting their grief (in the faes point of view atleast), whats the purpose of having this paper peace treaty when they have lost so much already?? I WISHHH the story could delve more into the grief of faes,

kinda lowkey mad they just swept Lilia's grief by the humans just cuz he encountered a few good ones, i wouldve love to see him being vengeful then learning how to convert that grief to love again just like Maleficent in the live action, bcs it would be very meaningful on this way, Lilia can truly say he has learned how to love because he experienced real deep hatred---but AAA its whatever this storyline is good as well, just kinda feels general lilia's belief converted to present!lilia a bit too fast to my liking lol

its really intriguing how before book 7 the faes dislike of humans seems so dramatic but now after book 7 it all makes too much sense 😭✨

(can you guys tell i play too much reverse 1999 bcs i ramble too much about morals and politics between different races now JHDJWHRJW)

[watermelonlovershigh]

Can you write something where y/n is insecure about having a bigger vagina. maybe its during sex or when she's drunk or really however you want to write it.

Drunk Insecurities /blurb/

AN: i've had this in my inbox for a while and found the motivation to finally write it. i hope you enjoy. i know i said my next fic was gonna be a smut but when i thought about how i'd write this, i didn't see smut appropriate for my vision. hope that's okay. remember our bodies come in all different shapes and sizes and they are all beautiful. and remember to leave you feedback : ) also the words are orange rather then yellow in my authors note because tumblr must have took the yellow color away. i can't find it. 😭

This story contains: talks of what vaginas look like, insecurities, being drunk, mentions of sex, fluff

{ husband!harry - softrry - any harry era - non famous harry }

word count- 1,022

As Harry tries to bathe you in the shower after a night at the bar with some friends, you have a drunk meltdown with the thought that he thinks negatively about how your vagina looks.

You were currently drunk in the shower. Your husband Harry was in there with you, holding you upright and helping you wash off the smell of booze that lingered on your skin. You'd went out to a bar with a couple of your other married friends and now it was two in the morning and Harry's trying to help you get ready for bed. Key word, trying.

One thing to know about a drunk Y/n was that you get very emotional. You're an emotional drunk. Some people get silly when they're drunk. Some people get sleepy when they're drunk. Some people get sick when they're too drunk. But you, you'll burst into tears at every little inconvenience or negative intrusive thought.

Like right now, as Harry tries to wash over your body while also holding you upright, you burst into tears for the tenth time in a span of an hour. "Baby, you've gotta calm down f'me. Don't want you to make yourself sick from all the cryin' you're doin'. Then we'd have to shower you again."

"But, but," you begin though heaving breaths as you sob, "do you really like my beef curtains?" In your drunken state, you remembered a conversation you had in the bars bathroom with your friends Melony and Paige. Something about how Melony is insecure about having an "outie" vagina but she nicknamed it as her beef curtains. Then Paige saying she wished she had that problem because she's insecure with her innie. Oh the things girls talk about in bar bathrooms......

You kept quiet in the conversation because you didn't exactly want to share what your pussy looked like to your friends. But on the inside, you were just as insecure as Melony was. You know vaginas come in all shapes and sizes but what if your shape and size was unappealing to Harry. What if behind your back, he discussed how his wife had large beef curtains to his friends and they laughed. Your thoughts are totally irrational but your drunk brain can't help it.

Flabbergasted, Harry yells out, "WHAT!" Not in a mean way but in a shocked way. He's no idot. He knows what that can be slang for but he's not once looked at your vagina and thought, oh she has beef curtains. That sounds totally too offensive for Harry to ever think of saying to a women.

"Harry," you mutter annoyed, "my pussy!! Do you really like the way my pussy looks or have you been lying to me?" Now Harry knows your drunk, drunk. Sober you would never question his love for your pussy. Not with the way he treats it.

"My love, why are you askin me that right now? You know I love the way it looks, baby. I love the way all of you looks. All of your imperfections look." Harry responds as he takes the shower head in his right hand to rinse the suds off your body.

Crying again, you say, "Are you saying my pussy is imperfect?" Here we go again, Harry thinks. In your drunken state, you misunderstood his words and turned them into something he hadn't even meant.

Harry turns the water off and leads you out of the shower where he grabs a towel for each of you. He helps you sit on the closed toilet seat while he wraps his towel around his waist. Then begins to help dry you off. And as he dries you off, all Harry can think about is, are you really insecure about how your vagina looks? Or are you just super drunk.

Because in all the years of being with you, never once has he looked at your pussy and thought anything negative. To him it looks normal. Though he isn't blind with the fact pussies come in all shapes and forms, just like dicks do, but to him, your pussy is his normal. It's the only one he's had for nearly a decade and he almost forgot any other pussy even existed.

Coming out of his thoughts, Harry stands up from where he was kneeled down drying your legs, and coos gently, "Come on baby, lets go to the bedroom and get our clothes on so we can get in bed."

Now it's like you've completely forgot about your meltdown in the shower because you whine, "Can we sleep naked, pleaseee?" You don't always sleep naked. Most of the time you sleep in an oversized t-shirt and panties and Harry sleeps in just his briefs. But when you do sleep naked, it's usually after you've had sex and either you're too lazy to put clothes on or you want to feel close to one another after having sex.

So naturally, Harry's response is, "Fine, but no funny business. Your drunk, Y/n."

With no tears in sight anymore, you grin up at your tall husband and reply, "Hey, I know that. But, what about in the morning, hm?"

"If you're not puking in the toilet from how bad your hangover will be, I'll consider it, okay. But for now, lets go to sleep. I'm knackered." Harry helps you stand on wobbly legs from the toilet seat and helps you walk to the bedroom. Once in there, he peels back the duvet and sheets and carefully helps you crawl in the bed to get comfy.

Harry walks around to his side of the bed and slips his towel off before joining you in bed too. He turns the lamp off and slides over to your body so he can cuddle you. He's a big cuddler. Then before you both drift off to sleep, he whispers, "Wake me up if you need anythin', my love. Like if you feel sick or somethin'. I love you. Sleep well." Though he hopes the two glasses of water he made you drink before you got into the shower will help lesson the chances of you getting sick.

"Love you too, H." you manage to say before you're knocked out cold, loving the way his bare skin feels pressed against yours along with the alcohol in your system.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[mellosdrawings]

Sorry for the inconvenience but could you make a tutorial on how to draw Kalim please?

Alright, time for a Kalim tuto!

I'm gonna do a bit differently compared to the usual, because there is something interesting about Kalim and Jamil.

They are, quite literally, polar opposite even in design.

Long straight dark hair vs short fluffy white hair

Little dark eyes vs big soft eyes

Red and dark colors vs light and blueish colors

Fire motif vs water magic

Apart from the eyes, those are all things they have control over too. Things they can't decide for themselves (skin color, size) are similar, but things that partake in choices (hairstyles, colors) are completely opposite.

Think about it when you draw either of them. You might want to draw them with that opposition in mind.

I'm going to keep coming back to Jamil's design (since I draw him all the time he is my base reference when I draw Kalim. You can find Jamil's tuto HERE if you wanna compare)

0. Face's general shape

Not pictured here coz it's not as obvious seen facing, but I like to give Kalim a heart shaped face. High yet round cheeks and pointy chin. That's what gives him a cute side and makes him approachable (unlike Jamil who would be straighter and thinner).

1. Turban part 1

Unlike with other characters, we're gonna start with the main accessory here since it changes the shape of his hair. For that I suggest that you draw the ears first. His turban doesn't actually touch them, so place the vague shape slightly above it. Don't make it symmetrical, the left side should be higher than the left.

2. Turban part 2

Here you add the little left over from his turban. Make it go slightly further than the middle line to make it more natural. Once more, no symmetry. Keep the distinct left-right for Jamil, Kalim is more natural and imperfect.

3. Hair

Kalim has short fluffy hair coming from a point to the left. They all go toward the same direction. Keep your lines flowing, make soft waves. They tend to fork outwards at the end.

4. Turban part 3

I only close the turbans here, otherwise I tend to put the edges too close to his head. There is matter here between his hair and the actual turban, so keep it in mind. Don't draw the edges with straight lines. Remember: natural and imperfect. Add a little wave to make it look like a fold.

5. Bangs

Kalim's bangs can be separated in three parts, two framing his face and one at the center going right. His bangs are short. Just like for the top hair, keep it fluffy and cute.

6. Turban part 4, the bow

Yes, the turban is half of Kalim's design so we're still not done with it. Kalim has a cute bow to the side, so seen from the front you only see one loop and one end of the fabric. Make two vaguely squared shapes and add a little curve at the bottom of the upper square to shape the loop of the bow.

7. Feathers

We're almost done with the turban! Where Jamil had on feather to the right of his face, Kalim has two. They come almost from the ear, behind the bow, and reach slightly lower than his chin. Try not to draw them completely parallel (natural and imperfect!)

8. Eyes

Once more going to reference Jamil, but they actually have the same eye shape, with round lower lids and straighter high lids. The difference is that Jamil has lazy eyes (meaning his eyes aren't opened fully) while Kalim's eyes are more open. It gives him bigger, softer eyes.

The pupils are also huge, once more in complete opposition to Jamil's little pupils.

As for the eyebrows, Kalim's are very short but a bit wide. Make it about the side of his pupils, lower inside and higher outside.

9. Earrings

His earrings are 6 shaped with three chains falling from it. They're actually pretty long, going down to his chin. You can keep it simple.

10. Finish the face

Make him smile. Seriously, Kalim is smiling more often than he is not (while Jamil is scowling more than he is not). I make his smile all round, once more to accentuate the cute side. Most everything is round in Kalim's design, so don't hesitate to lean toward it. (Remember, he's based on the Sultan, a character whose character design can be surmised in one word: round)

Once more not visible from the front, but I give him a hooked nose just like Jamil.

11. Correct details and finish

Kalim doesn't have much hair at the neck but I give him a few strands just to finish framing his face. Add flourishes to the turban. You're done!

[ohitsjae]

Little!Han Jisung

tags: Age Regression, Little Han Jisung, Caregivers Stray kids, sfw - i.e.: this is non-sexual age regression NOT age play, gen/no romance

mentions of: main caregivers Minho and Chan

summary: a series of unrelated scenarios/imagines based on Jisung in Little space - the age is undisclosed but I picture him around 1-4 years old depending on the scenario

Little Jisung who always has to have a paci or a teether or else he will ruin the neckline and sleeves of his shirt/hoodie by chewing on it. All of his stuffed toys have had the ears chewed to the point where they've normally got one ear bigger than the other because he only chews one side.

Little Jisung who is the kind of kid that cares about the box as much as the toy. I just think his imagination and creativity would translate so well into his littlespace. Like Minchan buying him a railway set and Jisung doesn't play with it for hours because he's made his own train out of the box it came in and having rubber ducks for bath time but he also has different coloured plastic cups to play with as well.

Little Jisung who gets really clingy to the members but it's always so particular. Like one time he gets attached to Seungin another time it was Hyunlix. The members all secretly hope that it's them Jisung will attach to this time because they all adore looking after him and having his full attention. But no matter who he's attached to, it's always Minchan who can settle him when he gets fussy or scared.

Speaking of scared - Little Jisung who gets *startled* easily but settles just as quickly. But loud noises and flashing lights *scare* him and it can take nearly an hour for Minho or Chan to calm him down again. If Minchan are both out of the dorm it's a nightmare for the other members because they just can't settle him the way those two can. Changbin is a close third though so if something happens and the hyungs are out, Changbin gets Jisung thrown at him. He doesn't mind, he loves looking after Sung and holding him while he cries is part of that plus he - secretly, selfishly - loves that he can make the little calm down and smile when everyone else is struggling.

Little Jisung who everyone thought would love music in headspace but instead music 9/10 times pulls him out of his little space because it's so natural for him to analyse any music he's listening to. Either to improve his own abilities or to see if there's something for him to sample. The only time music doesn't pull him up is when he watches ghibli films.

Little Jisung who has mastered those kids cups I keep seeing on tik tok - the ones that have a suction pad on the bottom and stick to the table and only kids manage to pick them up. He shows off with it all the time, offering to be 'helpful' and unstick it from whatever surface his little self stuck it to this time just so he can watch the frustration build in his members' faces because they just spent 20 minutes trying to get it off the dishwasher door, just for Jisung to take all of 10 seconds removing it. (Sometimes when he's little he'll 'accidentally' stick it to something inconvenient like a door or window just so his big self can show off - the members haven't realised this yet but Seungmin suspects).

Little Jisung who goes non/semi-verbal sometimes and just hums and giggles to himself maybe repeating a word or phrase that hes heard one of the others say. One time this happened, Jeongin tripped over the coffee table and swore, the only word Jisung was able to say for the rest of the day was 'shit'. Innie has never lived it down and swears Sung did it on purpose but Jisung is adamant that his little self just liked the sound of the word and so copied him.

All the members have different activities that are *their* activities to do with Jisung when he's in headspace:

Chan: When Jisung is really young, the only person he wants is Chan. I think they do a lot of tummy time, the baby sensory blankets you can get that have different sections with all different textures and colours plus they watch a lot of baby sensory videos. They also sometimes have foam building blocks or do fingerpainting if Jisung's feeling creative - but they have to be careful, because Jisung Will Try and stick his fingers in his mouth regardless of if there's any paint on them or not.

Minho: Dinner time is Minho's time! Jisung always wants to be sat next to Minho or on his lap - depending on his age - and if Minho isn't feeding him he Will Cry. He also likes to watch Minho cook, he's never really old enough to properly help in the kitchen but he likes sitting on the floor/at the kitchen table/on the counter and watching Minho hum and dance his way through making dinner. Sometimes he'll try and reach over to sneak a bite of whatever is being made - although he's not very sneaking because he normally starts humming the mission impossible theme tune. Minho normally leaves a bit 'accidentally' to the side for Sung to 'steal' though and loves watching Jisung happy stim at the great tasting food.

Changbin: Changbin is the master of bath time. He's the only one who can get Jisung in the bath without the little crying or throwing a tantrum. He normally ends up as soaked as Sung but it's worth it to see the little splashing around with the rubber ducks or plastic cups he has. He always gives the best scalp massage and makes bubble-beards for him and Sung!

Hyunjin: stories. Jisung always goes to Hyunjin for stories, naptime or bedtime stories or just when he's tired and bored and wants to listen to something. Hyunjin does all the voice and, if Sung is younger and they're going through a picture book, he does all the different animal noises. Plus, so long as it isn't bedtime and he doesn't have to worry about winding down, he'll tickle or push or bounce Sung around in time with the main character making him all giggly and slightly hyper.

Felix: I think, when Jisung is in his older headspace, Felix would bake with him. Little things that aren't too complicated like cupcakes and cookies. Mainly because I can remember doing this as a kid and I absolutely adored it. They'd sit at the kitchen table and Felix would have everything pre-measure so all they have to do is mix the ingredients and put them in cases. When whatever they've made has finished baking, Jisung goes round to each of the members and offers them each a cupcake/cookie/whatever and they've never said no to him because he always looks so proud of 'his' creations and gives them a huge smile when they tell him it's really good.

Seungmin: I think Minnie would play a lot of games with Sung. Whether that's things like snap, memory games or even uno if Jisung is feeling old enough, or games like hide and seek, peek-a-boo and he always joins Sung when he's playing with toy cars/trains/etc. Their favourite is a big farm house that they brought Jisung, it's got loads of animals and fence pieces so you can build your own farm and the two of them always try and get Hyunjin to join them and then make him do all the animal noises.

Jeongin: at one point Jeongin wanted to be a nursery(/kindergarten) teacher so I think he'd really enjoy doing the more educational activities with Sung. When the little is 3-4 years old, Innie likes doing colouring and counting activities, worksheets that have dot-dot or naming shapes/numbers/etc those kind of things. They also play with playdough a lot making different shapes or making the different pets of SKZ. Sung is always really proud of what they do and of course, all his worksheets go on the fridge (Chan nearly has a heart attack at one point when they go live and he thinks they've forgetten to take them down).

---- This was a bit niche aha but if I'm not projecting onto my bias then what's the point!! Hope you enjoyed it!! 🦦

[brw]

It baffles the mind to me how people will insist Ben Percy's Beast is right and correct and is the natural end version of Hank and that since day one he was always going to end up like that, not just because it implies absolutely nobody has actually read Hank in any pre-Bendis comic ever, but also because Evil Hank as Percy writes him makes everyone look massively incompetent, and I'm not even talking about just X-Force, I mean the entire larger X-Men community.

Emma Frost. World class telepath. Repeatedly is shown to not have that many qualms about digging into people's minds if they're hiding something from her. Confronts Hank at least once directly, and yet did not actually care enough to do anything other than act huffy when confronted with his actions. At most, she was pissed at him ruining her party. You can torture whoever you want, old buddy, but causing an inconvenience at my party? Now I'm mad.

Jean Grey. Even greater telepath. Was on X-Force herself, even, and also does not have many holdups about tearing down people's walls if the needs be. We even see her do just that, but her problem is him keeping things from her, and not the actual content of most of his actions. And after she leaves, she just seems to plug her fingers in her ears and go lalalala? The stuff at the Hellfire Gala, keeping Wolverine as clones, she doesn't care, she's too busy X-Mening.

Wolverine. Epic cool warrior guy who is supposed to be the best there is, whose talents Hank clearly admires enough to clone repeatedly to do his bidding, who is simultaneously a lone wolf and also the guy everyone wants to have on their team, who is the only guy who can see through Hank or whatever. Not competent enough to kill one big blue furry man who has spent the last 5 years at a desk job. That completely alludes him.

Domino has luck based powers that are supposed to help her in any situation, but I guess getting rid of evil blue man is too much to ask. Couldn't even get a bucket propped up under an open door. "He was always like this, he was always evil" she insists, but after learning he's controlling a small nation with plant people at the Hellfire Gala she still busts out the Cha Cha Slide with him on the dance floor.

I guess neither Jean nor Logan bothered to tell Scott his old friend was committing war crimes, because he doesn't seem to know or to give a fuck.

Kitty and Kurt know enough to joke about it, but do they actually confront him? Does anyone care enough to actually try to put a stop to it directly, if they're all seemingly convinced he's beyond help and fundamentally evil? No, they've got other shit going on. No time to care about Hank making a future where he is God-King, we gotta stop Sinister doing that same thing, but I guess when Hank does it, who gives a shit.

Quinten Quire is an omega level telepath who apparently nobody thought to say "hey man, can you use those Phoenix-level abilities to get Beast to stop killing people?". He was too busy giving himself a bigger dick in resurrection protocols, I guess.

I could go on, but point is, I genuinely don't know how you insist that era made so much sense and was the perfect version of Hank and everyone was simply too naive to see that this was who he always was, because it makes everyone look like an incompetent moron! They can't kill one fat blue furry man??? He hasn't done field work in years! And yet that's too much to ask! The only reason he died was because he was in gay love with some fuckass actor from New Jersey. It's deeply embarrassing for everyone involved if that's the reality of things, and I have no idea why you want all of your favourite characters to be incompetent dipshits who think "Wow, isn't Hank evil?" and then refuse to actually do anything about it.

And all this could have been averted if Hank was, you know, Hank. Hank isn't charming and cultured and well-read and funny and polite because he's a good person, those are his innate traits, and as we see with Dark Beast, they can twist in the opposite direction. That would literally be all it would take. I mean a lot of things would still suck, but at the very least, it would make everyone's inability to do anything a little more understandable, and allow things to feel tragic, like that Hank becoming increasingly evil and separated from his ethics is a loss and one we all mourn, instead of the insistence that he was always going to turn out that way.

Emma walks in to try and set things right with Hank, but gets distracted by good conversation and jokes and the same man who treated her as a member of the X-Men when she first joined and not as a heartless monster, who built her piece by piece back together when people were joking that finding out her murderer would be too much work, because everyone wanted her dead. It's hard to connect the evil actions she's heard Hank doing with the kind and charming and personable man in front of her, who matches her intellectually and well and truly respects her, and so she accepts that things are either exaggerated or that Hank will ultimately come back into himself, and that she can trust him not to disrupt her party.

Just a few little moments like that would have gone so far. An evil Hank McCoy is ultimately still Hank, and should still be funny and dropping Aristotle quotes and Shakespeare and being a good friend, because those are not traits exclusively to moral people, and it would make everyone's seeming incompetence a little easier to swallow. It's harder to see the evil actions that Hank is doing for what they are, when he's making you laugh so hard your belly aches or pondering intellectual questions with you, rather than just repeatedly saying "I'M THE BASTARD YOU NEED" before making a torture station in outer space.

There's so many ways this entire arc could have, at the very least, had some intrigue and actual character work to explore, the ways Hank has always used a larger than life persona to deflect and hide, and how that could become increasingly warped if you're dead set on having him be evil, and make the whole thing feel less like a character assassination and more of a tragedy. Hank McCoy becoming evil should hurt. It should feel like a great loss that someone who had been so kind and empathetic and nurturing became increasingly amoral and evil and even sadistic, and all the characters involved should feel that loss, and that even could be why they struggle to actually do anything for so long; they're so loyal to the Hank that once was, they can't see the Hank that is.

But all that is lost when the only character suggesting that something else might be to blame is Colossus, who immediately gets shut down as being ridiculous and silly, and everyone else stands and nods that Hank is really evil now, and isn't that a shame, and maybe he was always like this, but are we actually gonna do anything about it? Nah, we got a party to throw, we gotta get our fancy dresses on.

The entire thing is so unbelievably infuriating, because all it would have taken for someone to actually not even like Hank, but just want to be consistent with prior characterisation and have him be fun. A villainous Hank should ultimately be fun. That's probably the main reason why Dark Beast has endured for so long; he is fun to see and be around. He's a fun character to see on your page. That's what Hank needed. But I guess Sinister was taking that place so instead we got blue Kissinger and it is genuinely such a travesty that this dogshit is celebrated by comic fans who throw up in their mouths if you suggest reading an Avengers comic to broaden their horizons.

[melodyofthevoid]

Can I gush about this one scene from the Dismemberment animatic? Apologies if I'm interpreting it in a different way than intended, but like. When the song stops and Heather stares in awe and dread of just a glimpse of Mariza's powers. I'm not sure if she knows what she's witnessing is just a fraction of a god's wrath, but man.

It really feels like all of Heather's posturing as the Biggest Baddest Bitch was totally shut down upon seeing actual magic in effect. Like in this moment, she realized she was dealing in forces she can't possibly understand, totally beyond her control. Heather thinks she's All That for hunting mermaids? Mermaids are just the tip of the iceberg that is a primordial force, a supernatural side of the world invoking gods and curses and other ancient things. And if Heather dives too deep, she'll be torn asunder.

It's just. The realization that the world is so much more vast and eldritch than you could've possibly imagined. The realization of how small and insignificant Heather actually is, that a tiny, clumsy glimpse of a god's power baffles her. And she can either cope by staying in her lane, playing it safe with what she knows, maybe even cancelling the trade altogether...

OR, Heather can double down in a desperate attempt to feel in control in a world that has suddenly expanded before her very eyes. Move up from harnessing mermaids to bigger things. And attempt to dabble in these ancient powers, risk encounters with them, in the hopes that she can get some of that power for herself, and not have to live under the constant reminder of how insignificant she is in the long run. How much mercy she's at.

Heather is, excuse the pun, out of her depth and it disturbs her, so she tries to resume professional business to get a sense of normalcy, routine, control. And she's totally lost it here. It's like watching a mob boss, threatening in real life, suddenly adapt to being considered a mundane inconvenience when transplanted to the Superhero genre; Nothing is the same after this.

You!!! You get it!!!! This is exactly it! That's exactly what we were intending with her reaction to the power of the ocean!

Heather has enjoyed unfettered power for quite some time, able to bend governments to her whims and be the top of the food chain. She knew better than to go on the ocean herself but she considered herself above hunting the mer herself anyways.

But now she knows that she's not invincible. If Mariza hadn't been focused on getting Delta to her ship she could've absolutely bodied Heather. While we don't have an exact next move for Heather prepared rn, she isn't done yet.

She's seen what's out there, and when she figures out how to harness it (so she thinks) she'll be unstoppable. She just has to plan.

[mymegrokosmos]

coffee dates with seungkwan are your favourite. he's always late but it gives you the chance to take your time, lingering on the menu and finding a nice table where you can watch the people walking by. you like sitting on the patio. partly because it gives your boyfriend the freedom to be as loud as he wants while he vents about his day and fills you in on any new drama happening on set. partly because it's usually a good way to get him to sit closer or to end up bundled into his sweater or jacket.

you can’t complain. well, you could but why would you want to? the view is nice and he always pays. one thing about dating boo seungkwan is that you're absolutely spoiled. you get the princess treatment every day and you couldn’t feel luckier.

"y/n, love?"

you blink at the sound of your name, turning from where you were watching a cute little dachshund in a sweater to find your boyfriend hovering over you. he stands beside your chair, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you push away your thoughts, sweep away the mind cobwebs of whatever daydream you were stuck in for a minute, and smile up at him.

"hi kwannie, have you been there long?"

he shakes his head, sliding into his seat across the small table from you and trying to see what you're looking at. you laugh softly and nod towards the puppy.

"cute, right? look at his little boots."

seungkwan just shakes his head but he's smiling as he picks up the iced americano you ordered for him, using his card of course because he sulks every time you try to pay for coffee on your own delivery or order ahead apps.

"a little silly but I guess it's probably practical."

you nod, sipping your iced latte. "mm, I imagine a lot of things are much harder and more inconvenient when you're that small living in a world made for much bigger beings and you can't even speak to them about it. not in a way that we understand well at least."

your boyfriend just blinks at you. "I've left you alone with Dino and Vernon too often."

you rest your chin on one hand and blink back at him. "and what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"you're spewing scenarios other people would never think of because you're bored. there are so many people you could be watching right now and instead you decided that, while waiting for the love of your life to arrive and grace you with the blessing that is his presence, you wanted to wonder what it would be like to live as a dachshund for day."

you considered this. "okay, fair point. however, I stand by my decision. it was fun."

seungkwan sips his coffee. you smile.

"how was your day handsome?"

and just like that, you fall into easy conversation. the words always flow with seungkwan. the rhythm is soothing, familiar, and when he gets up to drape his sweater over your shoulder after you shiver one too many times (one, that's already too many in his mind why are you even cold to begin with the weather should just immediately conform to your every whim frankly) it feels like home.

you smile, slipping your arms through the sleeves of the thick hoodie and snuggling into the leftover warmth of seungkwan's body. it smells like him, clean, sharp, citrus and a hint of something slightly woodsy. you blush when you glance up to meet his fond gaze, eyes soft as he watches you with a small smile.

"what?"

he shakes his head and takes another sip of his coffee. "nothing, you're just cute."

you scrunch your nose up at him and he laughs. you sip your drink and stretch your legs out, foot just brushing his ankle before you sit back again.

"ready to head home?"

he nods. "we're still on for dinner together, right? and a movie? I already told jeonghan hyung to clear out for the evening."

you nod, smiling as he offers you a hand up. "mm, you know we are. that sounds perfect. please tell me you're making those mimosas you tried out last week?"

his hand moves to rest on your lower back, guiding you back through the restaurant and out into the world again. you lean into him as you cross the street, head resting against his shoulder just slightly as you walk close enough to bump hips every few steps. neither of you moves to fix that. you just smile and let it happen.

"i'm making pizza, mingyu helped me prepare it all ready to pop in the oven when we get back. I just need to preheat it first and use that pizza stone he got us for Christmas."

"ooh what kind of pizza."

"I hope you like margherita."

you nod. "that sounds perfect kwan."

and it is. domestic seungkwan is one of your favourite sides of him. you like when he gets to relax like this. seeing him in comfy clothing, bare faced and with his hair all fluffy from running his hands through it. you sip your drink and watch as he shuffles around the kitchen, humming along to the playlist he put on and you move to light some candles.

it gets dark so early in autumn and while his apartment gets great light, his walls of windows can't compensate for a sun already fully sunken on the horizon. you find yourself smiling as he puts the pizza in the oven and sets the timer, reaching over to pull you into him and spinning you both around the kitchen.

you just watch as he sings to you, swaying with him as you dance to the rest of the song before stilling. his hands rest comfortably on your hips, like they belong there. they do, you think so at least. his expression is soft again, happy, and you can't help leaning up to kiss him.

"what was that for?"

you mirror his words from earlier. "you're just cute."

he sighs. "what am I going to do with you darling?"

you grin. "keep me, I hope."

and just like that you fall into the arms, and charms, of the one and only boo seungkwan. yet again. like you always do. because there's nothing that melts your heart quite like the smile on his face and the sparkle in those eyes. his happiness is truly the most beautiful thing you've ever witnessed, and you want nothing more than to keep being a part of it for as long as he'll let you share in this. in these moments.

in this laughter. in this lifetime of soft, safe, warm, genuine love. the kind no one ever warns you is addicting. the kind that doesn't judge. okay so maybe a little bit. but it's worth all the hard moments, every fight or argument, every little speed bump you have to overcome on the way. it's all worth it when you get to come home to this.

unconditional love, thy name is boo seungkwan and thou art everything.