#cleaning up the color because it went out of the lines

[deathmetalunicorn1]

could i get a jack the ripper x male reader who is harry Houdini?((y/n knows jack isn't the real ripper))y/n/Houdini is the opposite of jack being very hyper & excited about anything & loves showing his tricks to jack who would sometimes almost have a heart attack about his extreme escape act, especially his Milk Can Escape acts oh the dried he felt.....but like in Valhalla they met & soon became a lovey dovey couple living there life in peace,until Ragnarok came..y/n would watch jacks fight with worry but in the end had happy tears seeing jack win..but was displeased seeing humanity in the end still hating him even after risking his life so they have a better chance in surviving!harry/y/n would stay by jack's side as he gets patched up,& y/n quickly became bestfriends with hlökk,

((y/n seemed to also be friends with a curtain horror writer...*cough* hp Lovecraft *cough*))

while this was happening Brunhilde found out the gods was planing to have a surprise round to throw her off but thankfully she found out before they could surprise her, when Brunhilde found out that the god picked would be a god of tricks & illusions[not loki] she immediately knew who to go...y/n aka harry Houdini!

she had to ask y/n in private because she knew jack would NOT let y/n enter not even a second thought about it, y/n would agree wanting to help humanity...y/n/Harry's weapon would be handcuffs that can summon any trap or confinement like chains,rope(both can be stretch infinitely), cuff's,cages, straightjackets & even an iron maiden,as well as traping his opponent in a large body of water

so imagine Jack's supprise when he saw you walking out of those gates ready to fight...when you said, you whare just going to get the tea😔

y/n would fight to his limits even unlocking a new ability,the ability is that y/n could now see through any tricks or illusions & know his opponents next move & skill set...his left eye would turn purple & Glow a faint light when he uses it((although it drains his energy rapidly))

in the end y/n aka harry Houdini would win...taking a bow as if he just got done with a another Escape act, before going backstage,in which he would be a greeted with a very unhappy, upset & nervous jack who was worried to god about him....

-Tears filled your eyes, seeing how cruelly your lover was being treated, willing to put his own life on the line to protect humanity, only to be treated like a monster.

-None of these cowards who were Jack so poorly were willing to put their lives on the line for humanity- they weren’t willing to fight!

-You had rushed backstage to the infirmary and all but collapsed into your lover’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder, as you had been so worried that you were going to lose him. Jack just smiled, holding the back of your head with his now clean hand, holding you close, letting you cry.

-Hlokk wasn’t surprised to see you there when she arrived to see how he was doing, once she was cleaned up, as she knew how much Jack loved you and vice versa.

-Jack couldn’t help but smile, seeing you and Hlokk getting along so well as the two of you instantly connected, especially when she realized who you were and you couldn’t help but show off, putting on a show for both of them, showing off your greatest tricks.

-You were so beautiful when you were like this, when you were happy- it was the color that Jack loved the most on you and always wanted to see it on you.

-As the matches went on, gods and humans exchanging victories, the gods were growing worried that they were going to lose, and they began to plot.

-Brunnhilde could sense the brewing storm, and she knew that something was up, with Zeus being so quiet. It’s a good thing that she has an inside person in the gods, one that was willing to help her and gave her the message that the gods were desperate enough to try to pull a fast one, as they didn’t want to risk losing this tournament- they couldn’t risk it!

-They were planning to have one more match with a trickster god, one who was skilled in tricks and illusions, even more so than Loki, as they believed there was no human that would be able to win against him.

-Armed with this knowledge, Brunnhilde was prepared, coming to you in the disguise of checking on Jack and Hlokk, who had forgiven her sister because she knew what had to be done, and that this Jack was the real Jack the Ripper- he killed murderers and left innocents alone.

-As she left, she glanced at you over her shoulder, giving you a look that she wanted to talk to you privately and you gave Jack a smile and went after Brunnhilde.

-She told you what the gods were planning, and she wanted you to fight. You knew that Jack wouldn’t agree to it- he probably would tie you up, if that would do anything against you, to keep you from putting yourself at risk.

-You agreed to fight but you had to be cautious, not wanting to upset Jack, which she agreed to and told you when to meet up with her to fight.

-You returned to Jack with a smile on your face as Hlokk was curious as to what the two of you spoke about, you just grinned, “Brunnhilde cares in her own way- she just wanted to know how you both were doing but felt shy on asking you herself.”

-Hlokk thought it was cute while Jack could tell that you were lying to him, but said nothing, as he knew that he could trust you.

-When it came time for you to fight, everyone was stunned when the gods announced there would be one more fight, Hlokk was yelling, saying it wasn’t far while you had a hand over your mouth in shock.

-He stood with a deep inhale, “I think we are going to need more tea for this.” Jack didn’t turn to you, nodding and you went to get it, giving Jack a peck on his forehead, your usually thing for when you leave his side.

-Your opponent went out first, cackling loudly at the booing humans, who were furious at this underhanded deed, and many of the gods, including several of those who fought, were booing as well- finding it dishonorable, worrying Zeus a bit that he shouldn’t have done this.

-A cloud of smoke appeared in the arena, shrouding the final human fighter in a cloud of mystery as Heimdall was hyping you up- as he wanted the humans to win- seeing the heart that they had.

-Heimdall pointed at the figure that appeared in the smoke, “The one- the only- Y/N!!!”

-The crowds roared with cheers as you beamed, spinning a pair of handcuffs around your finger, your Volundr item as you beamed brightly, waving around like you were about to perform.

-Jack’s eyelid twitched lightly as he ground his teeth together, you were supposed to be getting tea!! You were going to get an earful after this!!

-Your opponent was cocky, thinking he was going to easily win against you, but you were not to be underestimated. He charged for you, and you easily side-stepped him, swinging the handcuffs and in an instant your opponent was wrapped in chains, including his ankles and wrists being bound and he fell to the ground with a shout of surprise.

-Everyone froze, seeing this and you couldn’t help but grin, turning to him, “Let’s see you escape this!” the crowds were roaring as the trickster managed to easily escape, surprising you with his skills as he tried to do the same, chaining you up and stringing you upside down.

-He turned to the crowd with a grin, “Are you all entertained by this?!” the crowds were wide eyed, staring at something behind him and he turned as you dropped the last shackle, “That was a good try! What else you got?!”

-The match was back and forth, not so much with fighting and beating each other bloody, but trying to trap each other in elaborate ways to keep each other locked up to be able to land the final blow.

-It was entertaining, watching the two of you fighting, seeing you both escaping, but your opponent was getting pissed- finding you irritating- nobody was as good as he was!!

-When he actually attacked you, bloodying you up a bit, and you swore you could hear Jack screaming out your name as you were slightly dazed.

-You rolled, dodging another blow as you quickly got to your feet as you held the handcuffs and you smirked, “It seems like I should get serious too.” He glared as you charged, but when you ducked at the last second, dodging his blow, appearing behind him, he shouted in surprise as you grabbed him with your weapon and you smirked, “It’s time for the greatest trick the world has ever seen!!”

-The handcuffs lit up with a bright light before your opponent was wrapped in chains, then encased in an iron maiden, wrapped in more chains then suspended over a pool of water filled with piranhas before being lowered down into the water.

-The crowd was stunned as your hands came to your hips, a grin on your face as you saw the iron maiden moving as he struggled to get free. If he managed to get free of the chains, he was still trapped in the iron maiden, which was slowly filling with water, the spikes stabbing into him, making blood seep into the water, sending the piranhas into a frenzy.

-After a few moments everything went still and your greatest trick faded away, your opponent crumbling away as he perished, leaving you the winner which made the arena explode into cheers.

-You smiled, bowing to the crowd as if it were a show as you headed backstage, feeling a bit lightheaded from your wounds.

-“Y/N!!” you looked up, seeing both Hlokk and Jack running towards you and you did feel a bit nervous, as Jack looked mad, but he surprised you by leaping into your arms, his arms around your neck as he sagged into you, “You’re okay!”

-You smiled, hugging him like how he hugged you after his match, holding him close as he sighed, pulling back as he cupped your cheek, creating a tender moment before his other hand came up, cupping your other cheek before he grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and index finger, pinching and pulling your cheeks, “You reckless! Idiotic!! FOOL! Do you know how worried I was?!”

-You whined as he punished you, begging him for mercy but you knew that you deserved this for deceiving him as he released your cheeks, taking your hand to lead you to the infirmary while still scolding you.

-He was so cute- but you knew that he cared.

[emathyst9]

William's reference sheet remake is now finished!

Here's everyone's favorite (not) purple guy once again!

[miharuhebinata]

nuggeto

+ original sprite for comparison

[emacrow]

Orphan's baby

Cass was in the middle of helping the Batfam along with Batman raids through the the hidden base they had found underground lab in an abandoned hospital messing with a neon verison of lararus pits liquid.

Red Robin had already adjacked the security and was going through the files with Spoiler. Nightwing and Red hood beating up the guards while batman was battling with the main boss behind it all.

She was with Robin as they were taking some samples and destroying the remaining ones.

She had already crack through most of seemingly important hidden rooms that seem to be hiding completely full with containers full of lararus pits with tags of PH4N70M, and a winter blue colored marble in a container sealed to the safe that was spelling out electricity every minute in the container.

It looked important, but why a marble..?

She broke the container holding the marble, taking most of the lararus pits containers as well while destroying the remaining unaware of the glow that pulsed in the marble.

By the time is was to retreat, everything was in the clear as Spoiler needed to unscramble hidden files that were behind multiples firewalls.

They were at the batcave when they were securing the containers of lararus pits for later sampling, only for the marble to be missing..?

She was sure that she place it in her bat waist pouch, but it wasn't there anymore..

Did she dropped it accidentally while collecting the containers of larausu pits?

It was already too late to check back now, so she decided not to tell anyone yet.

Until 2 months later, she started feeling downright sick nauseated. Right after Dinner of Alfred's infamous lasagna Tuesday, but.. it tasted a bland which was throwing her off completely.

She was only dropping down by the batcave to just self analysis herself.. only to stop walking half way the secure containement holding all the lararus pits that they brought back..

She couldn't stop herself from staring at it with vast hunger before the swirl of neon green filling her vision and blank her conscience out the window..

Only to wake up in her room on her bed, 3 empty containers with not a inch of lararus pits left inside as if it was wiped-or licked clean. She hide the containers under her bed and stood quiet later on as nobody had noticed yet what she had done.

She doesn't know what had happen, but the nausea and sick feeling went away as if nothing happen.

Hopefully it would be a one time thing...

Bruce and his long lines of lawyers had disbanded the GIW completely over the illegal experimentally on sentient aliens of another world which they tried to label them as ghosts until they tried to accused Superman of being one of them which quickly label their entire Government supported work as hate crime and was steady being searched, along finding a couple of missing traumatized teens, adults and children that had vanished the months before in the other hidden labs.

...

....

.....

She had her head in her hands as she silently groaned when she peak her eyes between her fingers to see several dozen empty containers and immediately close her eyes to try and pretend she didn't see them.

It only been 5 months since that incident and she had seemingly got away with it, but then nausea came back with vengeance like no other, and the increased appetite was new, but yet it didn't filled her belly with the bland taste or satisfaction even though she did felt a bit feint during the couple of night patrols despise feeling energized earlier.

Something was wrong and she know it as she went to the only person who could help her right now.

She went to Alfred straight away silently explaining the situation going on because she honestly have no idea was going on with her and she know she loves his food, and the feint spells, and the monsterous appetite and the insatiable need to swallow a crapton of lararus pits with twelve milkshakes and fourteen bags full bat burgers.

Alfred could only stared with his eyebrows raising slowly with every word spilling out of her mouth.

Alfred helped her get examined in the batcave medbay, and 2 hours later the blood result came in.

Case was pregnant, but It was a almost cryptic pregnancy.

Alfred didn't had the equipment out for a ultrasound at all yet, but from he know from Cass it was during the Raiding of that hidden lab and her being in contacted with this 'marble' that seemingly disappeared after she grabbed it.

That was 7 months ago, but luckily Alfred caught it in time before it literally became a cryptic pregnancy.

Oh the ultrasounds pics of the little baby fetus with his fast beating lil heart beating were precious as he got tiny misty eyes a bit compare to Cass's awestruck look staring at the screen then back at her belly.

He does help get extra vitamins pills, and call her off of Crime duty until further noticed . Bruce on the otherhand was concerned but all he got from Alfred was the You Better not investigate this because I have major blackmail of embarrassing toddler photos against you.

This is Alfred moment that he been waiting for since Bruce became a new adult but not yet sired a baby at the Wayne Manor at all. He is savoring this for the memories and scapebooking time. He is cranking opened that forgotten but clean baby nursery of forlorning hopes.

2 months later, By the time Cass was ready to deliver the baby on February 11, and at February 12th, 12:01am.

Wren Alf Cain was born premature yet crying softly into the word.

[alchemistc]

Donato spots it first - Tommy's been fidgeting with the just-too-short sleeves of his shirt for the past ten minutes, fingers curling into the ends of the arms, thumb sliding along the hem like maybe he could make them long enough to fully cover his wrists just by thinking really hard about it. It's stretched tight across his shoulders, the neck hole feels too high, biting into his skin, and Tommy is absolutely certain it's been hemmed in at the fucking waist, because he can barely keep the damn thing tucked into his pants.

(The cost of having those fucking magnificent gazelle legs is apparently torso space.)

"You shrink your shirt in the wash again, Kinard?"

Tommy's been begging their vendor to switch to a jersey blend for years because 100% cotton undershirts are a goddamn bitch and a half to maintain.

Tommy thinks about ignoring the question entirely. They've been razzing him for weeks about the way every single smile line in his face has been putting in overtime lately.

And then she gets a closer look at it. The merch is usually the same cross-department, but every once in a while some probie will get stuck with the task of ordering a few extras to have as backups around the station and they'll go a little too hard on customization. Like, for example, the one he'd picked off the top of his clean laundry basket without looking in his rush out the door this morning.

Lucy's eyes narrow. She reaches forward, pinches the 118 emblem blazing across the breadth of his shoulder, takes in the color and sturdiness of a shirt he definitely can't play off as being old enough to have been from his own time at the One Eighteen.

Donato grimaces so mockingly Tommy nearly warns her that her face'll get stuck like that. "Christ, Kinard, how fucking domestic are you two?"

(Three days off together after a week of getting by with random texts, their schedules nearly opposite, and when Evan had stared at his overnight bag on day two and realized he didn't have any spare undershirts he'd pouted up a storm about the fact that if he had to go back to his place it didn't make a lick of sense to turn right back around to Tommy's, so Tommy had just thrown Evan's dirty undershirt in with the rest of his own laundry. And then prompted Evan to throw all his other stuff in the wash too. Halfway across the city, Evan is definitely rolling too-long sleeves over his palm with the tips of his fingers and Tommy does not have time to think about how much he likes the idea of that )

"He doesn't even know my how I take my coffee," Tommy snipes, like that avoids the question, and across the locker room Johnson slams his locker shut with a snort.

"Because you've been using his increasingly more desperate attempts to figure it out as some weird intricate mating ritual for three months now."

"It's about --."

"--the journey, not the destination," they both interrupt, eyes rolling, and Tommy doesn't bother to try to hide the grin in his face.

"He just wants to get it right so bad."

Donato's face is unimpressed. "Ugh. Can you please stop being so smitten right in front of me? I'm gonna throw up."

Tommy leans in for the kill. "Your wife ever buy you flowers, Johnson? Because I've been trying to decide how much thought went into the arrangement he brought me on Saturday, and I figure -." He dodges the palm Johnson extends towards his face with a bark of bright laughter.

---

Evan 2:15 PM

Boyfriend privileges are a SCAM

Evan 2:15 PM

Why is YOUR NAME on the back of this shirt? There's no way that's standard

Evan 2:16 PM

Chimney's being homophobic

Evan 2:19 PM

Nvm Gerrard saw it and now I'm just sad he didn't actually have a heart attack about it

[kedreeva]

Okay so, I don't think I've spoken of the saga here yet but! Gather round. I shall tell you a long story about the bird I just acquired and why she is VERY IMPORTANT.

At the beginning of last fall, I started looking into quail genetics a little more, because I got tired of not being able to sex my Celadon quail by their feathers. Originally I thought I could kill 2 birds (ok maybe more) with 1 stone and order nice jumbo wild type (which MANY places advertised as wild type jumbo) hatching eggs, and this would help me put some size on the Celadons (jumbo) while also making them feather sexable (wild type). Perfect!

But then I come to find out that pretty much all jumbo lines are jumbo BROWNS, as in they all have the sex linked brown (SLB) gene. So, I was a little confused and a LOT annoyed because I wanted to work specifically with the wild type color/pattern. No mutations just straight, plain wild type.

And EVERYWHERE I looked - major production hatcheries, private breeders through websites, Facebook groups, local swaps, craigslist, e v e r y w h e r e -

People ONLY had SLB.

This spring I came across a video showing about the differences between SLB and wild type and I figured if the person who made it can tell, maybe she will have some. So I looked her up (not in a stalker way, her farm name was stamped on the video and took me to the website), and what luck! She was in Michigan! Upper Michigan, so still a hike, but not California, y'know?

So I shot her an email and explained that I was looking for WT and that her site said she bred them and that people could do local pickup. She responded yeah she's totally got a bunch! And I said great, I'm also in Michigan, albeit far away, but I don't mind driving 7+ hours each way, because I really need actual, trusted WT for sure birds for my celadon project, can I come pick them up?

Cue the most frankly bizarre email chain in my short life. As soon as I mentioned that I was going to drive, or perhaps that I had a genetics plan in place, she got super sketchy and started saying how she hadn't really paid as close attention to SLB vs. WT, that it mattered less than she thought it would when she started, that I shouldn't focus on that either, and also that "fawn celadon is practically unheard of" in the hobby and "you should focus on a clean Tibetan because it's hard to find without roux in it) implying that I should concentrate on those things instead. And concluded by telling me if I really want WT, to contact this other person (why happens to be someone I can't stand). It all sounded VERY much like she didn't have wild type males, after all, and had thought I didn't know the difference so it wouldn't actually matter. But, it does. It actually matters a lot to me.

So I messaged back to say, well, I don't want to do any of those things, I specifically want to work with this set of genetics and you said you have them so I shouldn't have to go to anyone else??

And then she went radio silent for a week. I kind of figured I'd called a bluff, and that she was one of dozens of people I'd contacted who'd said they had WT only to find out they had SLB. I get that it's difficult to see the difference, but this particular person was the president of the American Coturnix Breeders Association or whatever (found out it's actually just a club formed by her and her friends a year ago, so not as impressive as it sounds, considering they don't actually DO anything- no putting on shows, no newsletters, no certifications, no public breeder directory, no finished SOP, nada), so I kind of expected she should know what she's talking about, if anyone does.

Eventually, after a week, she responded that she had been judging at a county fair, but she had a few heterozygous males (WT het roux, which is fine) and she could set a hatch for me for more if I wanted to come at the end of the month, but she's in WI now, not MI. I said sure, since where she was in WI was actually closer than where she'd been in the UP, and we arranged date/time.

The day of, my neighbor friend, Jude, comes with me for company/keeping me awake through the 15 hours driving round trip. It's a pleasant enough drive. We arrived at a cutesy little house on the edge of town that looks like anyone's house in a neighborhood, with a spacious lawn. The person meets us and takes me around the side of the house to a 6x6x1.5 or so chicken tractor, where she's got some male coturnix. She pulls the available males for me to look through and... fam, they ALL looked SLB, to me.

Now, she swore to me up and down that they couldn't be anything except WT het for roux, because of the way she is breeding them. But I've put these birds next to my SLB males and if I didn't have my males banded, I would not ever have told the difference between them. I still picked up 4 of them, because I will give it a go- worst case, I can produce plain Roux hens/plain Roux males for use in breeding later, best case they do actually produce WT hens and they just LOOK SLB and I have to figure out what the differences are. I don't want to leave without seeing her hens, which she has told me are all WT (which is why the males HAVE to be het for it), and she takes me back. Now the hens, the hens are easy to see the difference. White bellies first of all, but the chest feathers are also wildly different! The shafts are white, the dot around the shaft is dark, ringed in red, ringed in white. On an SLB, the shafts aren't white, it's just a black dot surrounded in a red feather, and the belly is all red/buff/cream, not white.

This is what an SLB hen looks like:

So I take a nice long look to memorize the color, and thank her for showing me and meeting, and we head back home.

I do fecals when I get home because all of the males are VERY thin, no meat on them at all, and since she said she'd been feeding Purina (garbage for fowl feeds), I figured that was why, but no- HUGE coccidia loads in all of them. So I treated them and got them on a better feed. They immediately began putting on meat, and they're find now.

The rest of this summer, I have spent going to local bird swaps and inspecting all of the quail I could find, hoping to find one (1) actual wild-type phenotype bird. Hundreds and hundreds of birds, I have pawed through them all, being super obnoxious to the owners I'm sure, holding and inspecting males. I found ONE suspected WT male (and this is a HUGE "suspected," he could very well be SLB with low red expression). I compared him when I got home and I'm doubting myself still, so I don't know if I will ever actually pair him with the SLB hens or if I'll just wait til I have a roux set.

Regardless, it's been a dry season for getting what I want. It's been a dry YEAR. Yesterday was another swap and more hundreds of quail and me pawing through all of them.

Until.

My eyes landed upon.... her.

If you've only lived in an area that has american crows and not ravens, you find yourself wondering if crows are ravens. You see a big crow and you think wow! maybe that is a raven! It could be a crow, but it's seems bigger so maybe it's a raven. But, if you take a trip to a place with ravens, and you see one for the first time, you realize that there is no question, when you see a raven. When you see a raven in person, there's no question and not only is there no question, you wonder how you could ever have thought a crow was a raven. It's laughable, while looking at the raven.

That's how finding this bird felt. I'd been picking up every SLB hen and going maybe this is actually WT? It could be SLB but maybe it's WT? But the second I laid eyes on her in the middle of a pack of SLB with some mixed colors, I knew I was looking at WT hen, and I can't imagine how I ever thought maybe an SLB hen was WT.

Here's a better photo of her chest and belly (she's beat UP from her previous home, the back of her head and most of her rump are plucked clean from males). You can see the white shafts and the white belly.

And some other pics of her, showing the grey-brown on her side and back- VERY different than the SLB hens

I can't express how stoked I am about this bird. This is the first time after a LOT of effort and time, that I have felt confident I am holding the bird I want.

She's also the indicator that I have a LOT of work ahead of me.

My end goal is to have birds that look like her, weigh 12-14oz, and lay large, blue eggs. I have birds that lay large, blue eggs, I have birds that weigh 12-14oz live weigh, and now I have at least 1 bird that looks like her, which means I can make more that look like her. The first step is cleaning the color mutations out of the celadon line without losing the celadon eggs. This is going to be a bit of a nightmare, BUT, I have a friend helping me out with getting a few celadons that are either WT or SLB (I'm guessing SLB all things considered) to start the work with. I will work over the winter to get a few more actual WT birds here, and to start crossing out the celadons with the SLB jumbos to clean out the other feather color mutations. Once I'm down to just SLB and celadon for mutations, I can clean the SLB out with the WT and roux lines.

This project will likely take me a good 2 years, maybe 3, to complete and then test breed to ensure I haven't lost the celadon gene and I don't have any hidden recessives lingering about. But just having the fucking materials to do it all on hand now is a huge step forward from where I was when I decided to start the project.

[solbaby7]

Hi!! I have a request if you don’t mind 💜💜

Could you do a Rhys x reader where she has bought some lingerie for the first time without Rhys knowing she bought it and he catches her trying them on in their bedroom?

He’d have a hard time trying to decide on if he wants to fuck you with it on or to rip it off.

Temptress

pairing: rhysand x reader

warnings: sexual descriptions, swearing, a million different ways to say panties, possible typos

—

You’d been swayed.

Captivated by such delicate pieces that when the sweet shop owner offered you a discount on the piles of lingerie you’d been sifting through—you couldn’t refuse.

Bags hang off your arms filled to the brim with intricately detailed bustiers and corsets, thongs of varying colors and cuts with garters and thigh high tights to match. Some were riskier than others; crotchless panties or g-strings decorated in shiny chains with a custom diamond encrusted ‘R’ dangling over your ass.

A warm glow casts over your form, gaze fixed on your figure reflected in the mirror and you can’t help but admire the way each piece looks on. Velvets and silk, lace and leather that fits as if it were made specifically with your measurements in mind. Too distracted by the effects of a push-up bra, you don’t even notice your High Lord lingering in the doorway. Both arms cross at his chest, shoulder resting on the doorframe and head slightly tilted as violet eyes roam you over.

Rhysand’s perfectly silent while you move to change, bending over to slip on a silky pair of underthings with thin pearl strings that held at your hips. Teeth bite at the fat of his bottom lip as he takes in the round of your ass against the pale pink material and he fights the urge to tear it clean off.

Your hands smooth over your figure, utterly oblivious, eyes squinting in thought before flicking over to the male in the mirror. A low gasp of surprise, a blush fanning across your cheeks at the dark look looming in indigo irises. “Rhys,” It’s instinctual to cover up, arms crossing over your chest to hide parts of you he’d already memorized a million times over. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He hums low, almost dismissively as he drinks in the feminine whine lacing your tone. “Didn’t see you much today, sweet girl.”

“I went out to the city to do some shopping,” You confess softly, slowly lowering your arms to show off the newly acquired purchase. “Pretty, right?”

The look in his eye is predatory no matter how subdued his tone is. Because while you’re referring to fine details in the lace line cups; Rhysand is fully ogling the generous lift of your breasts. “Absolutely mouthwatering,” Four steps is all it takes for him to clear the length of the room and to your surprise, he strides right past you and settles into the chair tucked by your mirror. Rhys pulls the bag into his lap, shuffling around the items until he finds one that had his cock jumping in his pants. “Try them on for me—start with this one.”

A sheer little slip dangles from two fingers, the matching thong draped over his knee and excitement swells in your belly when the door closes behind you. The lock sliding into place with nothing more than a cocky lift of his brow. A shiver runs down your spine, body wedged between his spread legs. “Help me take this off?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Rhysand takes more care with the fabric than you would’ve. You’re forced to remain still as the bra is unhooked and eased off your shoulders. A pleased hum pulls from the back of his throat, reacquainting himself with the weight of your breasts and the hardened peaks of your nipples. Goosebumps ripple against every inch of bare skin, stomach clenching when his knuckles trail a path down the soft swell of your belly. “Leave these on,” A thumb slides under the elegant pearls holding the underwear in place. “I like them.”

“Elegant enough for a High Lady?”

Rhys chuckles, settling back into the chair with low lids. “Elegance has no place in the plans I’ve made for you tonight.” The lights go dim; darkness beginning to cloak your bedchamber and Death Incarnate seems to expel a sigh of relief when allowing such subdued power to stretch free from its confinements.

Chiffon nearly slips free from your grasp, limbs quaking as the tension held this in the air. He watches your every move, a bulge steadily growing in his pants but he makes no move to touch himself. “You’re not working?”

“It’s not going anywhere.” Your brow raises, a little smirk quirking in the corner of glossy lips and his eyes are rolling before you can even throw in your two cents on how any other night his answer would be completely different. “Besides, what kind of male would I be if I chose boring documents over my mate—one who’s half naked and hot as sin.”

“You flatter me.” Thin straps snap against your shoulders, the powerful darkness casting perfect shadows against feminine curves. A blush begins on the apples of your cheeks, lashes fluttering fondly as you eat up the praise. “I’ve barely even gotten to the fun stuff yet. Should see the kinds of goodies I’ve got stuffed in that bag.”

A smile curls at his full lips, body language effortlessly regal, arms lax at his sides as his legs spread just a little wider. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Your eyes dip down without permission, catching the outline of his erection through tailored dress pants. It strains again the stitching and yet there’s no shame in sight when staring so brazenly. Desire clouds your thoughts, lust darkening your gaze as you turn slowly—providing the perfect view of ass in your underthings. Power fills the space, tainting the air with a thickness felt with each breath taken.

You don’t shy away from it though, steps holding a newfound confidence as you prance over to the bed. Legs elongate, back arching and soft hair dips messily against your cheeks in a way that sends your High Lord in a frenzy as you sink into the sheets. You make a show of getting settled, allowing the satin to shift up your thighs, bunching invitingly near your hips.

Painted toes dangle against the headboard, canopy draping tied securely at each side to leave the view of your ass exposed to him. It’s a tease; an invitation for Rhysand to waltz over with that unwavering air of entitlement and take what belonged to him. “This one might be one of my favorites,” The playful dip of your tone tugs him from his thoughts, though the look in his eye does little to hide the things conjuring up in his mind. So you feed the depraved fantasies, slowly spreading your legs and sliding a hand down the length of your body until manicured fingers collide with delicate fabric. “Easy to put on after a long day of spending all your money.”

He takes the bait, entranced by your shamless groping. “Terrible, horrible thing.”

A nail hooks into the fabric covering your sex, offering a fraction of a glimpse before it returns to place with a snap. “The worst,” You agree, engulfed in the perfect scent of you and Rhysand intermingled in the sheets. Still, you crave more; every fiber of your being begging to his touch. “How about you come teach me a lesson?”

“I will.” He undoes the bindings holding his breeches together, allowing his cock to spring free and one strong hand wraps around it; stroking the hard length up and down. “But first, I want to watch you play with it.” Darkness clasps around your ankles like chains, a cruel laugh echoing in your ears as your hand follows the command without hesitation. Your arousal is audible, squelching obscenely as a free hand keeps lace tucked to the side. “Atta girl, just like that.”

[coupleoffanfics]

teehee I have a small thought (batfam related, yk that one where y/n gets killed)

imagine if y/n was brought back by the pit, but instead of being a "shell" in that hc u made, she becomes completely stoic, like just blurts out what she was feeling back when she was neglected with the most blank expression ever, I imagine it being more focused on bruce and Damian since yk..bruce was the shittiest parent ever, and Damian with his sparky ass insults.

You…God, damnit Anon. You summoned me and I suddenly have the motivation to write after reading your two requests.

I don't know if you wanted a one-shot or HC. So I just went with a HC because it's much easier to push out. Though if you want me to make a one-shot feel free to ask. I'll take 7 years to write it. Though at the end I did sort of a one-shot.

Damian should have known something was wrong when y/n didn't start thrashing around and attacking anything that moved after crawling out of the pit. She just stared at her hands, clenching them into firsts and then unclenching them slowly.

Maybe Damian was too relieved to see y/n breathing and moving to really care. Maybe he thought that she was just in shock. Coming back to life isn't always expected and it can take a real toll on someone.

Not to mention that y/n was, compared to her brothers, far weaker. Not just physically, but mentally as well. So it's not surprising that she was so docile, right? It's only a matter of time before that effect wears off and she'll be normal. Or something close to normal.

Okay, maybe deep down Damian knew that there was a chance that he wasn't getting y/n back. Everyone knew that there was no getting her back, but he was willing to take the risk. He came this far and it didn't take long for Bruce to pick up on what his youngest was doing.

Damian has his big sister back and he's not going to let her go again. It's only a matter of hours before Bruce comes breaking down the door to drag them back to Gotham. So Damian took the time to clean up y/n.

She was still in her funeral clothes for goodness sake. She reeked of death, but that didn't stop the boy from hugging her tightly.

While getting cleaned up, she doesn't say a thing. Or even make a lot of noise. It was almost like she was still dead.

By the time Bruce gets there, he's not surprised by Damian's actions. He thought of doing the same thing, but he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. He couldn't disrespect her life by bringing her back. How could he dare think of that when she looked so at peace when she died.

He remembers how her body was tense before it became horrifyingly relaxed. There was a fear of death in those [eye color] eyes, he knows because he saw it. But it was so quick and fleeting that he could have missed it if he wasn't so close.

In a twisted way he wished y/n had clung on to him just like she did when she was a wide eyed little girl and cried. Cry that she didn't want to die. Cry that it was too early to leave now. Cry that she didn't want to leave them.

But all she did was give a crooked smile and mumble to herself as blood dribbled down her chin. She spoke incoherent things to herself. A name or two slipped from her cold lips, but they weren't ones of her family. From what he gathered it was just a close friend and her significant other's name. She died thinking of those who cared and loved her back. Not of the family that she couldn't stand to be around.

Even when her own adopted father held her dying from close, they were far from her line of thought.

So seeing y/n alive was gut reaching for Bruce. There was no pain, anger, sadness, or joy on her face. She was just there. Staring at him with an uncomfortable indifference.

Damian was ready to start a fight with Bruce. Not a physical one, but he would cross that line if he needed to. He was ready to defend himself in what he thought was best for y/n. Yet Bruce lets out a quiet sigh and tells that it's time to come home. How anticlimactic.

The plane ride back to Gotham is long and quiet. It also felt cramped by how close Damian was to y/n and unwilling to give her too much space.

By the time they made it back to the manor, everyone was caught up to date. The development is surprising to some while others not so much.

Everyone is in the bat cave. Gathered around to see y/n back from the dead. The silence is deafening as they wait for something. Just something from her, but she walked past them all. Out of the cave and to where her room was. Nothing was out of place in her room, though it was mostly empty after she had moved out a few years ago. She laid on her bed and slept as if nothing was amiss.

That's where the family infighting starts. Question of was this the right thing. What are going to do now? Why the hell did you think this was a good idea? There's going to be a lot of hash words being shared, but at the end of the day what was done was done and they had y/n back. They weren't going to mess up the second time.

Did they really get a second chance because it didn't feel like it. A week would pass and y/n has yet to come out of her room. She's alive and breathing because the trays of food left outside her door are always empty.

The camera's installed while she slept showed that she was doing nothing. All she did was lay in bed. She'd get up to use her private bathroom, but other than that there wasn't much. She was rotting away alone in her room.

This rang familiar bells in Alfred, Bruce, and Tim's head. y/n wasn't prone to long depressive episodes, so this could be something similar. The lack of socializing and excessive oversleeping was typically a big red sign for them to do something. In the past they would not force, but push her into doing social things or at least being out of her room.

They could approach this situation the same way, but they'd have to be extra careful. This was a unique and tricky situation to be in. It was also odd if not worrying that she hasn't succumbed to lazarus fever.

They could try to bribe y/n out of her room with activities that have to do with her old hobbies.

"Alfred is baking today, he said might need some help."

"I just stole the keys to the batmobile, you wanna take it for a ride?"

"Hey, do you want to…um, play a video game with me. I remember we used to play Hellflight Deadcraze a lot. They came out with the 3rd game. I just bought it today, so...Yeah."

Though the likelihood of that working is low. If they're really desperate to interact with her, they might as well just bust down her door.

At some point all the poking and prodding is going to irritate y/n. Whoever popped her bubble is going to be on the receiving end of pent up emotions.

I don't believe y/n would ever intentionally say how much the family's treatment harmed her. Again it would bubble up and fester for a while before she explodes. The thing about y/n is that she has an inferiority complex. In her life she aimed to please and help.

She understands that Gotham is dangerous. A lot of people need help and she couldn't bring herself to pull them away from their job. To her it would be like pulling a fireman away from a fire to chat as people burned alive. Even if the fire was out the fireman would be tired and need to rest, so she couldn't just pull them wherever she wanted to go. She shouldn't pester them.

In y/n's eyes, she was never worthy of being a hero because she wasn't good enough. She was never worthy of being with the family because she wasn't helping enough. She should do this to prove her worth. She's not worthless because she can do this for you and this as well!

She embodies inferiority and self-loathing. Someone that feels insignificant and has the strong urge to do more. She has- or had in this situation, hope. Hope that she'll be worthy of love. Love, affection, praise is what drives her and will seek it out if she's desperate. If she does ask or seek it out she'll be feeling guilty since she didn't really do anything to get it. In her mind she was being greedy and she couldn't help herself.

Bonus

"Just stop. Leave me alone." Her voice was almost pleading as she gripped the wrapped gift box. The gift was a symbol of peace, almost a treaty. That's all it was supposed to be, but she acts as if she had been spat in the eye.

Seeing that Bruce wasn't listening to her, she dug her nails into the gift. Almost tearing into the [favorite color] wrapped paper. He stood before her like an unmoving entity. The longer he stood by the more she wanted to snap into herself. She didn't want to slowly curl into a ball. She wanted to snap herself together with a violent and almost sickening crack. This just wasn't fair.

Clenching her jaw, her voice became much colder. It wasn't as cold as the middle of winter, yet it still had a chill to it.

"I thought you'd get it that I didn't want this. I shut you out, but you- all of you just keep buzzing. None of you are getting the hint. You just keep coming back louder than before. Why can't you let me be alone? Why can't you act overworked and tired? Why can't you just leave things the way they were?"

Bruce was conflicted upon hearing her say that and would try to claim that everything is going to come around. Everything always comes around in the end and this wouldn't be any different. They are going to get through this as a family.

y/n's frown would deepen and her eyes would furrow at his attempt at comfort. She looks as if she just ate something that was expired, leaving her mouth with nothing but a nasty sour taste.

"Because we're family." She whispered to herself before almost grimacing at the words. Her voice became sharp and cold as a blade, "I don't understand why you'd suggest that I was still a part of the family. I don't think I've been family for a good while now."

She clicked her tongue as she dropped the gift box while looking Bruce in the eyes. "Come on, you can't say you cared about me after I stopped being useful. When did you realize that I wasn't anything special? Was it when I kept crying about punching villains or when I was too slow to teach."

Seeing the conflicted look in his blue eyes confused her. Why would the truth conflict someone unless it was pity. Even after all this she's just a pitiful little crybaby to him. One good hit and she's out wailing on the floor for someone to kiss her boo-boo away.

Somehow this hurt her. Her pounding heart felt like it was twisting on itself. She wanted to cry and laugh at how she thought things couldn't get any worse. Then somehow it did. The universe, the world, the Wayne had proved her wrong yet again. It was as funny as it was sad.

She could have broken down there, but she needed to hear it. She had to hear the truth, so she kept twisting her heart with her own hands. It didn't matter how much it hurt.

"Or maybe you were in denial? You had wasted a lot of time and resources on a dud. Then Damian threw cold water on you and left you shivering, right? I'm just leeching off of you and the others. Then…Then you choose them over me. I was an afterthought, or is that being too generous? Did I ever circulate in your mind before this?"

Her voice was becoming shrill and gruff like she was on the verge of tears. "When did you realize that I was dead weight, Batman? Did I make Bruce Wayne look more caring to the people when I talk about how much I love my family? Did my life serve any use or was I always just a speck of dirt on your shoes?"

Those words were far from the truth, yet with how she spoke Bruce knew that she believed in all that she was saying. Each and every word was true to her. Honestly he didn't know what to say. This was all too much. Having to hear your own child degrade themselves with such honesty was heartbreaking.

Taking his silence as a sort of confirmation, y/n ordered him to leave and of course he did. He'd fix this somehow. He just needed time. They needed time.

I cut off the ending because I didn't want to write too much. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. I haven't proofread this, Google Doc says there aren't any errors (probably a lie), and it's 3 in the morning. Goodnight.

[spamton-deactivated19970420]

i made a little hand-sewn beast based on everydayspamton's drawing & took it with me on a family roadtrip

if you'd like to make your own, i've included the [[FREE]] pattern & some rough steps below the cut, as well as an Educational Video

EDUCATIONAL VIDEO. THIS IS NATURAL SPAMFISH BEHAVIOR & IT IS NOT SCARED OR IN PAIN.

BEAST CRAFTING INSTRUCTIONS:

disclaimer: i'm an amateur & i've never tried making a pattern before, nor have i ever tried writing directions

materials you'll need:

sewing needle & pins

black thread & white thread

fabric in these colors - black, white, red, yellow, & pink

stuffing

(optional) a squeaker

notes:

for the thread, i suggest something thicker, like whats used for embroidery - i used two different thicknesses on mine, & i think the thicker one; (the black thread); stands out a lot nicer

for the fabric, i used craft felt. its nice because its cheap & malleable, but if you want something that can actually be washed & played with without disintegrating on you, don't use felt. different fabrics will have different results, though, & may not give you a clean-looking edge & lines

you can also just go nuts & use whatever colors of thread/fabric you want, make pattern alterations, whatever

if you make one, feel free to @ me, send an ask or DM me with it, i'd love to see!

^^^ here's the pattern!

now the actual steps?:

1.) download & print out the pattern - it should(?) fit normally across a regular sheet of printer paper. i don't have exact measurements, i eyeballed this whole thing & then lost the original pattern - (there's only a copy that i scanned & edited left on my computer. woops.)

2.) cut the pieces out. pin the patterns to the fabric color the instructions call for, & cut out the number you need for each

^^^ here's what you should end up with!

now the sewing! for this whole thing i used doubled-up thread & a 'running stitch', then went over it a secondary time with another running stitch to fill in the gaps. you could also try using a 'back stitch' (which i don't know how to do), but that might be tougher. the goal here is to give it an Outlined look, like a drawing

3.) with white thread, sew the pink & yellow eyes onto the glasses - pink is Left, yellow is Right. reference the image above if you're not sure!

4.) sew all the fins pieces together - on the black fin, use white thread; & on the white fins, use black thread. reference the pattern for the detailing. i made my own front fins 'wrong', but you don't really have worry too much about being exact

5.) overlap the Head pieces onto the Body pieces - making sure you have a Left and Right side! pin the heads to the bodies, & compare their lengths by holding them together to make sure you've got it right. sew the heads to the bodies using black thread. detail the head with black thread, & detail the body with white thread

6.) now that you've got the two sides of the body completed, you can hold them together to try to get even placement for the red cheeks. pin each cheek to each side, then sew them on with white thread

7.) using black thread, sew the pink glasses onto the Left side of the body, and the yellow glasses onto the Right side. they'll be slightly overlapping the cheeks

8.) with white thread, sew the front fins on to each side. NOTE: i put mine on wrong, & didn't realize until i was finished. for the 'right' placement on these (closer to the original drawing), reference the pattern, & not the images

you now have all your parts ready for assembly! for me, this is the hardest part. you'll need a bunch of pins - use the guidelines on the pattern and/or reference the below image to get the right placements

9.) pin in the back fin & the nose. leave some space on the bottom for stuffing when you start, & using black thread, sew together the nose & the fin unto the body - the fin should be sandwiched Between the two body halves

10.) pin in the tail fin. continue sewing down the back with the black thread, & sew the tail fin in - once again, it should be Between the two body halves

11.) pin in the back fin between the halves. continue with the black thread, sew along the tail & sew the back fin in - Stopping once its secured. you should have some good space still open on the belly

12.) time for stuffing. using something thin, but not sharp - like a chopstick or the back of a crochet hook - & push stuffing into the nose & tail portions. stuff the head about halfway. now, if you have a squeaker, put it into the widest part of the head, & stuff a little around it

13.) still using the black thread, sew the belly up a little more so its easier to keep the stuffing in, & then fill up the rest of the body. once fully stuffed, sew the remaining hole together

14.) congrats! you now have a spamfish. if you opted for a squeaker, squeak it thoroughly

don't worry if it's not exact, some individual variation is fun & makes your creature unique! mine has upside-down front fins with upside-down detail lines

here's the thing with some friends i had made a little bit before him. have fun with your beast!

i am not liable for any damage it causes to you or your property

[roostersbby69]

Birthday boy

Summary: Today is Bradley’s 40th birthday and you show him just how much he means to you.

Warnings: light smut

When Bradley texted you that he was on his way home you immediately started to get ready, you door dashed his favorite food from outback and desserts. You went to the store and got some balloons and handmade a sign.

Today was his 40th birthday and you thought it was the most special day out of the whole year. And you were going to show him just how special it is.

You had went to the store last week and bought a new matching set in his favorite color, you cleaned the house and shaved every part of your body.

You would celebrate with the dagger crew but you made plans to meet up this weekend to go eat and bring cake.

The house was clean, you took an everything shower and blow dried your hair, you didn’t bother to put makeup on because Bradley seemed to be all over you when you didn’t have it on, you put on your perfume that he loved.

You coated the bed in flower petals and bought a new vase of flowers for the kitchen, everything had to be perfect.

The bathtub was filled with water and bubbles, rose petals scattered all over the bathroom floor and in the bathtub.

He should be getting home in ten minutes, you slipped on your night gown that he loved and made sure the house was perfect.

Bradley pulled into the driveway and sighed, he was so ready to get inside and see his beautiful wife that he missed all day.

He got out of the car and locked the bronco doors, he walked to the door and opened it, “Honey! I’m home!” He walked inside and noticed how good the house smelled. He looked around and saw the various candles that were lit and the new flowers that were in a pink vase on the counter.

He looked around and admired how clean the house was, you always kept the house neat, but something was different this time.

“Hi, babe.” You walked in the kitchen and his skin shivered at your voice. He turned around and sighed at the sight of you, you were wearing his favorite night gown, the cheetah print one that showed your thighs deliciously and hugged your ass.

“Hi, hon.” He almost whispered as his eyes looked you up and down, your hair was down and your toes were freshly painted and a gold anklet hung on your ankle.

“Jesus.” He whispered as you walked towards him and stood on your tippy toes to kiss his chin.

“How was work?” Your small hands came up to unzip his flight suit as he stuttered.

“Good, yeah it was good.” He nodded and swallowed as your fingers pushed his flight suit off of his shoulders.

“Good, I’m glad you’re home.” You sweetly looked up at him and he swore right there he was the luckiest guy on earth.

“Me too, hon. What’s going on?” He asked as he looked around and your hands came to his chest and up his shoulders, you rubbed them and pecked his lips.

“Don’t you remember it’s your birthday?” You smiled and brought your hands up to his head and played with his hair.

“Yeah, but-” he started but you shushed him softly.

“I’ve got supper for you. Your favorite.”

“Outback?” He immediately questioned and when you nodded your head and took your bottom lip between your teeth his dick twitched.

You took your hand in his big one and led him down the hallway, he followed you like a lost puppy and watched as your ass shook with each step you took.

Your shared bed was made and a cup was on each of your nightstands. Four to go plates were lined on the foot of your bed and a towel was neatly spread over the covers.

Your helped him get out of his flight suit until he was standing in his shorts and under shirt.

“Shit, honey.” He walked in and watched as you sat down on your side of the bed and opened your plate. You looked to him who was still admiring you and patted the spot next to you, “Come eat.”

-

After eating and watching your favorite show you cleaned up the bed and sipped your coke as you watched Bradley take off his watch.

You walked to him and rubbed his shoulders, “Come with me.” He turned around and you took his hand to lead him to your bathroom.

His jaw dropped as he took in the sight, the tub was filled and steaming with petals and bubbles, the floor was covered in dark red rose petals, candles were lit and his favorite bottle of whiskey and your favorite bottle of wine sat on a stool by the tub with two glasses.

He was speechless, truly, you had done all of this for him, just because it was his birthday.

He watched as you bent over right in front of him and tied your hair into a bun, he caught sight of your slit and ass cheeks as your dress rode up slightly.

When your hair was up, you stood straight and brought your hands down by your sides, seductively, and slipped the gown over your head. He watched as your breasts bounced out and you tossed the gown to the side. You walked over to him and ran your hands under his shirt and looked into his eyes.

Bradley always loved your height difference. It was perfect. The perfect height to kiss you on top of your head, perfect to scoop you into his arms and rest his chin on your head.

He tugged his shirt over his head and you pulled his shorts and boxers down. His dick sprung out as it was already hard and you dipped down to your knees to kitten lick his tip. He hissed and threw his head back, “Fuck.”

You took only his tip in your mouth and sucked as hard as you could.

He moaned and grabbed your hair tightly.

You stood back up and led him into the tub, he got in and sighed as the warm water relaxed his muscles. You got in behind him and he flipped over to rest his face on your boobs.

“God, this is perfect.” He closed his eyes and his hands rubbed your sides.

You hummed and your hands played with his hair and ran over his face as warm water tickled his face.

They slipped over his back and lightly scratched as he relaxed in your embrace.

“So, what’s all of this about?” He sat up and kissed your lips softly.

“It’s your birthday, I’ve got to treat you right.” Your nails scratched his scalp.

His eyes fluttered closed and he laid his head back down on your chest, “Thank you, honey.”

You kissed his forehead and rubbed his shoulders, the bubbles danced around you as the petals floated all around the place.

He peeked an eye open to look at the liquor on the stood and sat up to grab a glass, “You know me so well.” He smiled to himself as your thoughtfulness.

He poured him a glass and looked back to you, you had your arms over your head and your boobs were soapy. “You want a glass, hon?”

You nodded and brought your hand up to rub his back, “Please.”

He smiled and poured you a glass and brought it to you. “Here you go, princess.”

You thanked him and sipped the liquid, your eyes rolled back when it hit your tongue and ran down your throat.

“You’re too sweet, baby.” He came down and kissed your lips when you were done sipping your drink, “You’re too good to me.”

“No, you’re too good to me. I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.” You shrugged and set your wine glass down on the side of the tub.

“And you always do a great job at showing me.” He smiled and kissed your shoulder.

You smiled and watched as he finished his glass and set it down beside yours, he laid down back on your chest and let you rub his back and scratch his head until he thought that he was in heaven.

-

Bradley sat on the bed scrolling through his phone as he thought the night was over, he really enjoyed today and what you did for him. And he would be forever grateful for everything you’ve done for him. For marrying him, for carrying your future babies, for loving him even on his ugly days, and for making him a better man.

He’ll never forget the time when he met you, you were wearing a long, pink, sundress that you bought from an older woman in her thrift store. Your hair was up in a clip and you had taken your heels off to dance. He watched you the whole night, just mesmerized at your beauty and how you had no care in the world if anyone was watching you.

There was just something so unique about you where you stood out from every other girl in the world that moment.

When you were sipping your mixed drink and covering your mouth when you laughed at something someone said to you.

You two matched perfectly, you had the same interests, the same personality, the same music taste. You were perfect for him, he was a lost man when he found you. And you mended his broken parts and pieced him back every day. You taught him that it’s okay to have bad days and showed him that you loved him.

He never talked about his parents to any girl until he met you, and he was in love the moment you asked more about them and wanted to visit their graves.

He gave you his mom’s wedding ring and he took his dads, just like they wanted. His mom left them for Bradley before she passed and left a note saying how she wanted him to find the girl she always prayed for him to find and give it to her.

And he did.

You fixed the matching set on your body, sprayed perfume on, and walked out of the bathroom. You were a little nervous to be this confident. You were known to be shy, not that it bothered Bradley, he thought it was rather cute. But right now he loved this side of you.

He got in the bed and waited on you to come out, thinking his night was over, you walked out in that deep red set and strutted over to him.

He dropped his phone and opened his mouth, no words came out but, “Holy shit.”

You walked over to him and perched yourself on his lap, his big hands found their place on your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze.

You set your hands on his shoulders, “Happy birthday, Roo.” You kissed his jaw softly and sucked on his neck.

“Holy shit, honey.” His fingers came up to gently stroke the delicate lace that adorned your body.

“You like it?” You watched as he touched you and admired you.

“Yeah, this is new?” His eyes still glued onto your perfect body.

You hummed and sat back to rest your hands on his big thighs. He leaned forwards and kissed the top of your breast that spilled out of your bra.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He groaned as he took each tit in a hand and gave them a squeeze. He went to turn you over but you stopped him and placed a hand on his chest.

“Nuh uh. Tonight about you.” You placed each hand on his pecs and pushed him to lay back on the pillow.

He smirked and watched as you placed your hands on his stomach and grinned your core onto his semi hard cock. He placed his hands behind his head, “I like this.”

You smiled and laughed, “I’m trying my best here give me a little time.”

“And you’re doing just fantastic, sweetie.” He leaned up and pecked your lips, you pushed him back down and pulled his sleeping shorts down. His hard cock sprang out and hit his belly, you took your lip between your teeth and went face down ass up to suck his dick.

He moaned when you sucked on the head of his cock softly and lightly swayed your ass for him.

He took his hand and swatted your ass softly and watch as it shook for him.

You took him further in your mouth and sucked as hard as you could, he moaned and you could taste a little bit of cum leaking into your mouth.

“Jesus, honey, you suck my dick so well.” He praised as he moved your hair and watched you take his cock into your mouth.

He hissed when you pressed your tongue into the under side of his dick and placed your hand on his balls.

“Fuck.” He groaned and felt his dick twitch in your warm mouth.

You started to drool around his dick as he was so big inside of your mouth. Your spit dripped down to his balls and you began to pump him with your free hand, you released him from your mouth and looked up to him, “You’ve got a big dick, Mr. Bradshaw.”

He smirked, “You’ve got a magic mouth, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“I learned from you.” You leaned down and pecked his lips, he felt his balls tighten and he was so close to finishing. Until you let go and he groaned.

You climbed up on his lap and slid your panties to the side. You grabbed his thick cock and lined it up with your pussy. He grabbed your hips and helped you ease yourself onto him.

You slid onto him easily and moaned as he filled you up deliciously.

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight, so wet for me.” He groaned and squeezed your hips. You sat for a second and got used to him stretching you out and started to bounce on him softly.

You whimpered as his dick immediately found your g spot and you threw your head back and moaned, “Fuck.”

“Shit.” He grabbed your tit roughly and reached behind you to unclip your bra.

He watched as your tits fell out perfectly and bounced with his thrusts.

You moaned as he took a nipple in between his fingers and twisted it.

He watched it pebble and did the same treatment to your other one.

You stopped bouncing and sat up to dislocate from him.

“Wait, what are you doing?” He sat up and watched as you turned around.

“Lay down.” You told him and he did. You turned around, reverse cowgirl, and sat back down onto him.

“Fuuuuck.” He groaned and threw his head back.

You whimpered at the new angle and started to bounce, you could hear your skin meeting his.

“Fuck, Bradley!” You started to speed up, he noticed you slowing down and grabbed your hips to help you bounce up and down on his hard cock.

“There you go.” He praised and watched as your ass jiggled when it met his hips and you started to sweat.

“Fuck, Bradley. Your dick is gonna make me cum.” You moaned and grounded your hands to his chest and fucked yourself onto him harder.

“Fuck.” He moaned breathlessly, he slammed you onto him harder and felt his balls tighten.

He watched as your ass jiggled inside the red thong that you wore and his dick slid in and out of you.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut. He listened to you whimper and moan as his dick slammed into you repeatedly.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” You chanted as you felt his cock twitching inside of you and your walls tightened around him.

“Fuck, honey. Cum for me like a good girl. I know you are, baby.” He praised and egged you on to cum.

You loved when he was vocal during sex.

“Oh god!” You screamed and you came around him, he watched as a white ring formed around the base of his cock.

He groaned and cursed as his balls tightened and he shot his load deep into you. He kept helping you bounce as you rode out your highs together.

“Fuck!” You whimpered as you snapped back down onto him one last time and sighed.

He helped you slide off of him when his dick started to soften.

“You are the woman of my dreams.” He sighed and pulled you into him.

“And you are the man of mine.” You kissed his chest and snuggled into his arms. He helped slide your panties off and pulled the covers over the two of you.

“Happy birthday, Roo.” You whispered as your eyes fluttered shut.

He kissed your forehead and smiled, “Thank you, honey. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered.

He looked down to admire you while you slept. He really was the luckiest guy in the world.

—————————————————————

[genericpuff]

oh boy it's that time again

when rachel posts 'video progress' of her work and we proceed to dissect it like a frog in 9th grade science class

like ok first the caption of "is persephone the chicken and hades the egg" makes no fucking sense except to anyone who overthinks it and goes "wait is that a reference to the popularly-perpetuated version of the myth where persephone went down to the underworld willingly and hades didn't actually exist???" because if it is ima scream lmao

but MORE IMPORTANTLY-

Here's the transcript of what she's saying in the video:

"I think I've always wanted to write Hades' and Persephone's story because obviously I really like them. It's like very much a chicken and egg situation because I think in the beginning I thought that I was going to use a very abstract black and white style, and I realized it wasn't very enticing or fun for me, um... and I started drawing these very like vibrant characters and as I drew them I understood more about the story the more that I explored the art style, um and I guess an example of that is, y'know, Persephone is like a very bright color um, and the Underworld, is a very dark dark blue, and so when she says she really sticks out so it's just environmental uh processes like that that really helped inspire the direction of the story."

(despite her expanding on the "chicken and the egg" bit it still doesn't make sense imo lmao)

But what we're seeing isn't S1 LO, it's actually from S3 of LO:

But um... you notice anything interesting about the screenshot I just showed you?

That literally looks NOTHING like what we see in the final panel. At the VERY least I think this goes to show how overcooked it becomes in post-production, when they add the canvas layer and hypersaturate the shit out of the colors, but even the blending technique just isn't matching up?

A lot of what she's doing in this video also feels very... non-existent, like she's brushing her pen around but very little is happening so it feels more like her just putting down random brush strokes to try and make it seem put-together but really she's just kind of pushing colors around and/or doing nothing. Especially when, again, what she's painting here looks nothing like the final picture (so at best it's a lot of wasted work??)

And knowing what we know about the assistants drawing the characters separately so that Rachel can rearrange them in the final episode layout... I don't wanna call foul play here, but this feels like yet another attempt on Rachel's behalf to make her process seem more involved than it is by simply redrawing a scene for the performative aspect of it all. It's like the "sketches" in the books looking way too 'clean' for the final product and giving the impression that she just sketched over the final panels to make them look pretty enough for print.

I also wanna mention that for some reason she's drawing this on her iPad when she owns a Cintiq. It could be because she was drawing this while abroad in the US for her conventions last fall, but despite clearly being ahead of schedule, she still wound up drawing the final episode the night of-

Oh yeah and btw there are like a million clipping layers for what looks like just a simple drawing of Demeter. And this lines up with our previous theories about her using like 128549021809 layers for literally one character.

And aside from all that her commentary, as always, is very nothingburger, just a bunch of word salad. Like she's literally trying to explain LO's color theory as "well Persephone is bright pink and the Underworld is dark blue so she sticks out! That's all you need to know!"

IDK, I'm not coming to any sort of ironclad conclusion based off this one video, but it does feel like yet another desperate attempt to prove that she does work on LO and doesn't just leave it all to her assistants to do at the last minute. But like... she's kind of screwed in that argument either way, because even if she draws the majority of panels in LO, that just further proves the argument that she's stopped trying.

[chewnotchoke]

in the moments where my love thrives - m.jaehyun

note: this fic wouldn't be possible without anon's sexy brain! thank you for letting me write this!

warnings: no proper proof reading, getting drunk (legal line), black cat!reader x retriever!myungjae

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn (kinda)

word count: 2.5k

jaehyun wakes up from the glow across the room, and the sun's rays beaming through his white curtains. he hears feet pounding from the living room, which sounds like excitement from their game, and a faint sound from the television. he got up and stretched his body, dissolving the stiffness in his limbs and arms. 

“why is everyone so early today?” 

taesan and riwoo did not even bat an eye at their friend who just woke up. their pupils dilated with the thrill of the game,  jaehyun watched as their character dodged, rolled, and retaliated, the game world a vivid blur of motion and color. he shook his head before pulling the chair from the table. 

“where’s y/n?” he asks. “she went out earlier to grab us lunch.” riwoo continued pressing buttons on his game console. jaehyun’s apartment was everyone’s hang-out place. got kicked out of home? jaehyun’s apartment. pre-game place? jaehyun’s apartment. sleepover? jaehyun’s apartment. but he didn’t complain nor reject anyone’s company because you were always there, and if you needed a place to stay, jaehyun offered his apartment like it was your home too.  

at times when the friend group, including you, spent the night over in his apartment, you were always the last to leave in the morning. you were always cleaning the mess that no one paid attention to when everyone was drunk, and jaehyun always helped you with it. 

“you can go home and rest. i’ll take care of this.” you refuse to leave unless the apartment returns to its state before the chaos happened. “you want me to leave?” your lower lip jutted out in an almost cartoonish pout, eyes narrowing as you aimed a playful glare to jaehyun. “n-no! you drank a lot last night and you might be feeling sick because of the hangover…” he stuttered. you chuckled at jaehyun’s silliness and reassured him that you were nowhere near to feeling sick from the alcohol. jaehyun found himself hiding a smile. 

in that moment, the room is filled with a light that is all your own. he holds onto the feeling, cherishing the lingering warmth of your presence, hoping that this moment, like you, will stay just a little longer.

when the group went on a camping trip and everyone was outside grilling meat, cooking ramen, the two of you were left in the kitchen making kimchi fried rice. the kitchen was filled with the aroma of the garlic. jaehyun peered over at you, your brow wrinkled in concentration as you diced the vegetables with precise movements. a faint smile spread across your lips, and he couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest.

you turned to him, a cheeky gleam in your eyes, and offered jaehyun a sample of the sauce you had been meticulously stirring. as he leaned closer, your fingers met, shooting electricity up his arm. the sauce was excellent, as was everything else at this moment, at least for jaehyun. 

jaehyun's eyes expanded comically as he took his first spoonful of the sauce you prepared. he froze, the spoon suspended in mid-air, and his mouth slowly extended into an exaggerated "O" of surprise. he gave a theatrical gasp.

“how is it?”

“good! good! good!” he kept throwing you thumbs up if it wasn’t obvious how good it was. 

you came back with the lunch you promised to buy for everyone. the guys who were once so busy playing ran over to the dining area as soon as the food overpowered the aroma of the burning incense jaehyun always lit. 

for jaehyun, you are a rare combination of power and compassion, a woman who is fiercely independent but deeply connected. you were a reminder that true confidence isn't about knowing all the answers, but about believing in one's potential to discover them. you exemplified authenticity, enthusiasm, and unashamed self-love. your presence commands attention; a mixture of danger and allure, a living contradiction wrapped in leather and lace. a baddie, he must say. 

and if it isn’t obvious yet, he likes you. 

a belief ingrained deep within that girls like you—with a glint of silver at your ears and neck that catches the light, and exposed to the secrets of the night—could never harbor the slightest flutter of affection for a boy like him, was something that jaehyun carried in the quiet corners of his mind but rarely voiced aloud. 

the ink on your collarbone was exposed today from the top you were wearing and jaehyun couldn’t get his eyes off of it. 

“wanna get one?” you spoke, startling him. “you keep looking at my tattoo, do you wanna get one?” 

“you’re asking for something impossible. he’s scared of needles.” taesan answers. “i just found it cool.” no, he found it sexy. 

no one else in the room probably sees you as a woman other than jaehyun. there persisted deep regard for the person you were—a friend adored for her essence, and a woman cherished for her soul. it was the latter for jaehyun.

a few days later, the group went on another outing. surprisingly, it wasn’t at jaehyun’s apartment. they spent overnight at a rented villa. the villa itself was a marvel, its grandeur softened by time and the gentle touch of care it received. 

midday found them scattered throughout the villa’s nooks and crannies, each discovering their own quiet corner for reading, sketching, or simply soaking in the tranquility. in the afternoons, they convened once more, perhaps to play some badminton or table tennis, or go out on a walk. 

before evening, you found jaehyun watching a performance on the big screen and heard him singing along to a familiar tune. “you always watch that.” he turned his head over you. “oh, this? i think she’s cute.” an idol appears on screen, she is indeed cute, and has the same eyes like jaehyun’s. “never thought girls like that are your type.” 

“she isn’t my type.” he was in fact telling the truth. ever since it dawned on him that you could never catch feelings for a guy like jaehyun, he forced himself to like someone else. it was like planting seeds in barren soil and hoping for flowers to bloom where none naturally would. you lounged comfortably with jaehyun on the couch and took an interest in what he was watching. 

your eyes were fixed on the screen. jaehyun extends his legs on the coffee table and crosses them together. he was dumbfounded at you who were trying to keep your laugh. his foot, clad in a mismatched sock, ventured cautiously across the worn wooden coffee table that stood between them. you took a sight of his toes wiggling and cracked up. 

“what’s funny?” his foot, clad in a mismatched sock, ventured cautiously across the worn wooden coffee table that stood between them. “your socks. they look unmatched and silly.” his eyes swoon over to the pair of socks he was wearing.

“it’s cute!” and you kept laughing. jaehyun becomes lost in the depths of your stare when your eyes wrinkle at the corners and sparkle with unsaid laughter. it’s not just the sound that captivates him, but the way your entire being seems to come alive with that laughter.  

you playfully brushed your pinky toe against his big thoe, still finding the socks funny. jaehyun played along with you, leaving the colors on the television forgotten. 

for him, there’s a certain magic in the mundane moments you share. he always sees the spark in the things you do together. everyone had a heavy dinner to fill their stomachs before drinking. tidying up with you, cooking with you, washing the dishes together, jaehyun feels his heart burning with the realization that he finds beauty even in the smallest, everyday acts of life with you. and he couldn’t help but go beyond the imagination of dating you, living harmony in your shared life to the point that even with the simple brushing of fingertips as he reaches for the same spoon, he has found intimacy in these moments. 

after cleaning up, everyone was gathered in the same living room you were with jaehyun earlier. bottles of beer and wine were uncorked, passed around with toasts to friendship. after a long day of exertion, the first sip of cold beer seemed like nectar; the alcohol-infused their bodies with a warm, languid satisfaction.

with every passing hour, the night grew deeper. riwoo told stories, one after the other more ridiculous and funny than the last, interspersed with bursts of hysterical laughing. sungho tried telling a ghost story, attempting to scare jaehyun, but everyone was laughing at his rushed words and theatrical motions that made it into a comedy. 

not sooner, the air was thick with the scent of stale beer and the faint, sweet tang of spilled wine. sungho was sprawled on the carpet. riwoo was slumped in a chair with his head resting on the table, a lone, half-eaten slice of pizza lay beside him. leehan’s head lolled back, his mouth slightly open, a faint snore escaping his lips every now and then. beside him, taesan was curled into a fetal position, clutching a throw pillow like a lifeline. 

amid the messy place, you and jaehyun were still up, luckily. his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and the heat of his body, but his gaze never wavered from you. he spoke in hushed tones, and your conversation held private. 

“people used to say i look intimidating and unapproachable. sometimes, i want to have new friends but they say their first impression of me always feels like you can never start a talk with me. have you ever thought that way, myungjae?” 

“no. you have great charisma, and your features make you look strong. but i guess i can just see through the gentleness in your gaze. your kindness was never unnoticed by me, and everywhere you go…the true essence of your character always shines through. you’re a great person, y/n.”

a gentle smile crept up to your face, “no one has ever talked like that about me…but anyway, i know i’m tipsy but i don’t wanna sleep yet. can we talk about something else?” 

“sure. anything in mind?”

“science!”

“science?! i’m not the best person to talk to about that, y/n.” 

“don’t you think science is amazing? i take interest in everything about science from the flutter of a butterfly's wings to the movement of planets in their orbits. and also the balance of the ecosystem! hm…but maybe i like zoology the best. i just love animals so much. have i mentioned my favorite animal is a meerkat?”

it was obvious that you were drunk from the way you were rambling about the most random things, but jaehyun was listening to your niche interest—no. he wasn’t just listening, he was looking through the pieces of your soul while you talk about natural science.

your intellect and the boundless beauty of your mind smote him. it was impossible not to be mesmerized by you, to feel the gravitational pull of her enthusiasm drawing jaehyun closer. 

“come to think of it…you and meerkats are kinda similar! they’re social butterflies too, myungjae!” 

the world seemed to spin a little slower, and inhibitions faded into the night. in that moment of blurred lines between courage and intoxication, jaehyun caught his heart pounding like a drum. “hm? you look like a meerkat this close-” he leans in, drawn irresistibly to you. and then, as if guided by some invisible force, you felt his soft lips under yours. the alcohol’s effect must have overpowered jaehyun’s consciousness because of his impulsive actions.

you pulled back gently, your eyes searching jaehyun with a mix of curiosity and something unnameable. yet, before he could utter a single syllable and apologize, you smiled—a soft, knowing smile that softened the edges of his embarrassment.

a week after the trip, jaehyun’s friends camped in his apartment again. of course, you were there. the rest of the guys were in the spare bedroom, sleeping. on the couch, controller in hand, jaehyun was fully immersed in a heated FIFA match. his fingers moved with practiced precision, and the sounds of simulated crowd roars and commentators' excited chatter filled the room, creating an illusion of being in the heart of a packed stadium.

on the other side of the room stood you, hanging several pieces of clothes on the balcony because the laundromat was closed today, and you slept in jaehyun’s apartment too. but amidst the digital drama and the electric atmosphere of the game, there was almost an imperceptible interruption. bending over to grab another clothes from the hamper to hang it on the clothes wire, you effortlessly commanded attention.

jaehyun tore his gaze reluctantly from the screen as your undershorts peeked underneath your sleep shorts, and his gaze went to the hamper as he spies the booty shorts you wore the other day. his little possessiveness jumps out of him in case his friends might see them. jaehyun pauses the game quickly. you turned to meet his eyes,  it was in the way he hovered near the balcony door, his gaze occasionally flickering towards the fluttering garments. 

he rests his chin on your shoulders as his arms slide to your waist. “can’t we bring those in? your…uhm…booty shorts.” his voice tinged with concern. “hm? my booty shorts? why?” you set down the clothespins.

“what if sungho and the others see? i mean…they’re just clothes but you know…”

you chuckled at his comment, “why can’t you just say you’re getting a little possessive, myungjae?” you tapped the tip of his nose, finding him adorable. 

“then, can you sit on the couch with me and hang those clothes later? please?” he snuggles on your neck, his arms wrapped around you getting a little tight. jaehyun grabs your arms as you both lounge on the couch and enjoy the time together while the others are still asleep. 

his gaze lingered on your face, tracing the curve of your cheek, the arch of your brow, as if committing every detail to memory. jaehyun lays his head on your chest. one thing you learned about him is that he loves quality time and physical touch together.

you sat together on that couch, lost in each other's company. the warmth of his presence enveloped me, sending a shiver down my spine. his hand found yours naturally, fingers intertwining with a familiarity that felt both comforting and exhilarating.

“i love it so much…when we set up the table together, tidy up the place, the slightest form of touch…i like to think that i find the most comfort in living with your simplest existence.” jaehyun says. 

with each shared glance and fleeting touch, the two of you reinforce a relationship woven from the threads of daily existence, finding comfort not only in the duties at hand but also in each other's presence. 

it is in those moments where jaehyun’s love thrives.

“what the hell is going on…” taesan blinks, with his cat ear-shaped bed hair. 

not my proudest work oh my god!! really struggled finishing this bcs i got unproductive in writing but i hope this was still fun to read!

[elvenbeard]

Old and Happy

😭 my feels have been all over the place since I finally finished this! Don't even remember when I started, as I kept working on and off on it over a couple of months. But I think it was after writing something particularly angsty and going "you know what, they will get their happy ending though, so it's all good".

Some details and thoughts below the read more cause it got long hhhh ;A;

This is in about 2087 maybe, roughly "ten years later". Vince changed his hair, ditched the rattail for good (or again xD) for something still colorful but a bit more easy to style. But he might change it up again, he's done so repeatedly and still likes to experiment with his hair.

Not visible, he probably would've added some elements to his back tattoo after surviving all of 2077. Johnny's tattoo he covered up as well, he would've done that first probably before the back piece. Adding some things here and there over time, with colors and patterns and wings, some cherry blossoms ('cause a thing of beauty will never truly fade away - hence just not getting laser removal but covering it with something that suits him more, but keeping some elements like the J and V visible). It started with three roses below the "V" as a little homage to Jackie, and 2077 as the year that finally put him on the right track in his life, even if it almost killed him in the process.

Overall he is a healthier weight than he was for most of his life, and finally got some therapy he desperately needed to deal with all the crap he went through pre-2077 already. He's not dyeing his first grey hairs because hell, that he's even still around to get some is amazing with his line of work and life story. And he realized that there's no need to be super well put togeher 24/7, clean shaven and whatnot, when you know you're just gonna be hanging out with your man and cat all weekend (and actually allowing yourself to something like that - leisure time and pizza in bed, unheard of to 2077!Vince). He's doing good and feels good and comfortable, physically and mentally.

Kerry also changed, also embracing the dad bod over abs, probably still experimenting with his looks a lot now and then whenever the label feels like they need to draw attention to him for whatever reason. But to the brown eyes he returned in 2078 already in my headcanon for the Sun ending timeline, and he stuck with them.

Overall I think he might finally care a little less about other people's opinions too, the buzz and the drama, cause he knows that at the end of the day there's always gonna be someone waiting for him at home who loves him unconditionally. He's a bit calmer and at ease, but of course still up to no good whenever he gets the chance to stir shit up xD Vince and him remain to be a dangerous duo you don't wanna mess with. At that point Vince is a well-respected, even if somewhat elusive, fixer, so he's probably even more dangerous now than he used to be as a mere merc with an arsenal of connections and resources at his disposal that can almost rival Kerry's.

I also gave Kerry a lil new cyberware piece on his hand - he is an old man and I think, using his hands as a musician on the daily, at some point there's just gonna be some wear and tear to your bones and joints only tech can fix anymore... Especially if you're stubborn and refuse to retire cause no, you're not done yet, you still have so much to yell into the world and music to make, stuff to add to your legacy and all.

Last but not least: Nibbles is an old lady already as well here, but living her best life with her dads spoiling her rotten, of course!

And then öalkshjdfagsdföasgdfaösfh ;___;

Y'know, "to bad decisions" and all, and two very different pieces still fitting together perfectly somehow, and light and shadows, and the sun and moon and yeah. ;___; Brb crying, the feels are back xD

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far!! They mean so much to me and aösdjhfajsfhasfk could go on forever about every little detail xD On to the next drawing!

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

One Step, Not Much but It Said Enough

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Farm/Prison

Warnings: None

Summary: Someone had to make a move. In the end, it was neither of you.

A/N: First November request. It can be found here.

*gif is not mine

You pushed your glasses up on your nose for the umpteenth time in less than half an hour, cursing yourself for never checking with your optometrist about contact lenses before the world went to shit. Not like you would have known to buy a lifetime supply because the dead were going to rise up and eat the living. Oh well. 

You didn’t dislike your spectacles. You actually enjoyed having them. You used to pick out the snazziest frames you could find that meshed well with your personality. Still, having glasses in the apocalypse wasn’t easy, by a long shot. 

Especially now, when you were trying to set up the perimeter line and it was a million degrees outside, the sweat accumulating on your skin making your frames slide down. It was actually rather infuriating. 

You were tying off a line when a shadow loomed over the string in your hands. “Here.” Before you could look up, a sunhat was placed on your head. You reached up to adjust it before leaning back to meet Daryl’s eyes. “S’one’a Carol’s.” He motioned toward the hat as he crouched on the other side of your line. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled, hoping he’d credit the sun for the rosy coloring of your cheeks. You suddenly felt unsure of your work and hesitated to continue while he watched. 

“G’on.” He encouraged, chewing on a blade of grass while those blue eyes flitted between you and the string of cans. You took a deep breath and carried on, soon becoming lost in your work as you moved from sector to sector. The hat did help, but eventually, you found the frames teetering on the end of your nose once again. 

“Damn glasses!” You didn’t even bother to adjust them, simply sitting back on your heels with a pout. Daryl had followed you, having already done his hunting for the day. You weren’t really sure why he was hanging around. His presence never bothered you but did make you increasingly nervous. The man was attractive and, though he’d fight hard to never admit it, he had a huge heart. 

“What ‘bout ‘em?” He looked up from cleaning his bolts, tilting his head when he noticed your adorable pout. He laughed in the form of an exhale through his nose and leaned forward, using his middle finger to push your glasses back to their rightful place. “They suit ya.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, blinking at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t until his brows drew inward and he began to smirk that you realized you had been staring at him for far longer than necessary. There was a noise akin to a squeak when you quickly went back to work and tied off the last of the perimeter. “Done!”

“‘Bout time.” The archer drawled, already standing next to you. “Ya hungry?” He was holding out a hand to help you to your feet but you just couldn’t seem to make your body function. “S’a hand. How it works is ya put yours in mine an’ I pull ya up.” You suddenly deadpanned at his his version of a grin. “C’mon, now. Carl gets there first an’ there’ll be none left for us.”

You took his hand and let him pull you to your feet. “Thanks.” He hummed in reply, falling in step beside you. You walked quietly back to the fire and your friends, about to branch away from him when you felt his hand on your arm. 

“Hey, um—” You looked up just in time to see him look back from gazing at something behind you but he kept speaking before you could turn to investigate. “Y’wanna go with me tomorrow? Huntin’, I mean.”

You knew how your face lit up, there was absolutely zero hiding it. You had always wanted to go with him. Honestly, you wanted to go anywhere with him. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush. Embarrassing. Regardless, the fact the he had invited you after spending all afternoon watching you string up cans between trees made your heart beat just a little faster. 

“Hell yeah, I’d love to! I mean, as long as I won’t be in your way.”

“Ya won’t be. M’gonna teach ya.”

Your jaw gaped. “Really? You mean it?”

Poor Daryl just looked confused. “Wouldn’a said it if I didn’t.” 

You just managed to stop yourself from diving in for a hug. “I’m looking forward to it.” You smiled, tilting your head when you noticed the slight flush on his cheeks. He scratched at the back of his neck and nodded. 

“Good. We’ll be leavin’ ‘fore first light so get some sleep.”

You nodded and watched him walk away, apparently forgetting that he didn’t eat. You chuckled to yourself, pushing your glasses up yet again but not at all bothered by it this time. When you turned, you barely caught the knowing smile that Carol wore before it faded and she went back to eating. You removed the hat Daryl had brought you, looking at it with narrowed eyes, then to where Daryl had disappeared, then to Carol, then back to the hat. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense. 

Well played, Carol. Well played. 

[glittering-moonlillie]

My Beloved (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Word Count: 2740

Warnings: None

Summary: Not knowing how to express his feelings any other way, Damian resorts to calling you pet names in his mother's tongue in order to air out his pent up affection.

“Habibti, can you hand me the yellow frosting?” Damian was in deep trouble - absolutely terrible, hideous trouble. 

“Of course!” You reached over to your left and handed him the buttercream, the arabic pet name flying over your head. 

In his language, Habibti was a sign of endearment given to your lover, usually meaning something along the lines of My Love or Darling - but to you, he was utterly convinced that you believed it was a form of belittlement similar to Idiot.

Of course, Damian was too afraid to correct you and he was not sure if you would believe him if he tried. He would rather keep it a sweet secret to himself, even if his fragile heart was practically leaping its way out of his rib cage to expose itself to you. 

“You know, if you want to call me something mean at least make it so I can understand you.” You laughed, a noise that would certainly haunt him late at night when he was alone and longed for your presence. 

“But it’s much more fun seeing you like this.” You scruched your nose, your forehead creasing with the movement. Your lips were parted but no words came out. It was an adorable look he had grown to love despite how dorky you appeared. 

You retaliated with a poorly placed handful of orange frosting along his cheek, your lips twisting into a pout that only served to make the fantasies of kissing you worsen. 

Orange was an obnoxiously disgusting color but he would bathe in a lazarus pit full of orange frosting if you wished it. 

He ran his thumb along his cheek and licked away whatever frosting was there. Alfred’s special buttercream frosting really was to die for. Damian enjoyed the way your eyes slightly widened, relishing in the fact that it wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else. He liked to think that the scarlet decorating your face was because of him being undoubtedly sexy, and not the fact that it was because it was a hot summer’s day. 

“You’re staring, ya amar.” He smirked. “And I believe that cookie has way too much frosting, it looks like Picaso threw up all over it.”

Ya Amar had to be Damian’s second favorite pet name for you, translating to my moon. He often recalled the way his mother praised the moon for its beauty, treating it similar to a guiding life force. More than anything, Damian wanted to be the sun that illuminated your countenance - to be the man who kept you steady and loved you even if you just saw yourself as a clumpy rock. The name suited you perfectly. You were his beautiful, crated moon with star imbued eyes and a body that reflected the power of an inescapable black hole. 

“Hey, are those cookies almost finished? B wants them set out within the hour-” Tim walked in, his under eye bags accentuated further with the distasteful dark blue sweater he threw on. 

His brother paused, rolling his eyes at the state of the dining table. Damian hoped that the kitchen disaster was enough of a distraction for him not to notice the lovey-dovey eyes he assuredly was giving his best friend. 

“We’ll clean it up, Tim. Sorry about that.” You replied quickly. “But most of the cookies are done, Damian still has a few to finish though.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning wildly like the Cheshire cat. 

“Just don’t get distracted flirting with each other, I don’t want to deal with an irritated Bruce.”

“Shut up, Timothy. At least we aren’t aggressively making out like how you and Conner were at the last gala.” Damian shot back. 

Tim frowned. “I’m too tired to deal with this. Try not to explode anything, okay?”

Damian waved off his brother and went back to decorating one of the cookies for the large event at Wayne Manor tonight. It was a charity event to raise awareness of the increase in homeless population on the streets of Gotham, and alongside the event, his family was hosting a soup kitchen for any struggling person on the streets. Along with a hearty, full course meal, they would be served one of the cookies being decorated by the two of you. 

Although Damian’s father normally did not allow any friend’s to charity events, you were always an exception due to the fact that if you weren’t there, Damian would blow a gasket and murder someone if he was in a suit for too long. Your presence beside Damian was often looked over when you were both younger, but now that a few years had gone by plenty of journalists speculated the possibility of “a secret blooming relationship.” 

The common theory circulating around Gotham was the idea that his father was disapproving of them being together since you were a “commoner,” therefore excusing the lack of concrete evidence of the relationship existing. Damian had found the notion completely ridiculous; even if his father disapproved of you in that context, that would not stop him from loving you the way he always dreamed, consequences be damned. 

You treated the whole situation with carefree ease, giggling at the awful pictures and wack job theories concocted by 40 year old men looking to sell half-baked news. On one hand, Damian was pleased that the unwanted attention did not bother you, but deep down he also felt a pang of poison seep its way into his bloodstream. Was the idea of being his lover that much of a joke? 

The clicking of a phone keyboard brought him back to reality. Damian peered over your shoulder and saw Safari pulled up.

 “What ever are you doing, habibti?” 

“I’m trying to decipher what you are calling me.” You said. “Can you repeat that last word for me, please?”

The youngest Wayne felt every single pour in his body drip in sweat, excess saliva pooling in his mouth. Perhaps if his blood was functioning properly, then he would have found a better response other than a simple no. 

It was very rare for Damian to be properly caught off guard. He should have thought that you would have looked up the words he was repeating, should have come up with a game plan instead of looking like a strangled goose. 

His first instinct was to snatch the phone away and cut it up with the plastic, buttercream decorated knife. Damian could pretend to be possessed by a ghost and buy you a better phone with specially installed programs that inhibited your ability to look up any Arabic term. Yes, that was a wonderful idea-

“How are there zero search results?!!” You exclaimed, turning to him. “Did you make up a language or something? Why are there absolutely zero results??”

Damian looked at your phone again. You certainly took some liberties with the spelling of the pet name, letting him relax into his seat. It was nowhere close to how the word was spelled. He couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Why are there two y’s in the word?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Well maybe if you told me the other 20 languages you spoke I’d get somewhere.”

For the next 15 minutes, you angrily punched in 17 different ways to spell Habibti, all massively incorrect and leading to nowhere. You eventually threw your phone on the ground with a huff while he cackled. 

“This is so unfair. I demand restitution for the amount of time I have lost thanks to you.” Damian hummed.

“I can’t give you back those missing minutes, but I can pay you back with your favorite meal and my full attention tonight.” 

You pretended to ponder over the offer, but Damian knew you could not say no to Alfred’s cooking. “Okay, fine. But only because I love Alfred’s food and nothing else.”

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

The moon peered over the horizon, the stars twinkling like falling fairy dust on a navy blue canvas. Hundreds of Gotham’s richest filled Wayne Manor, most of which were dressed with gaudy colors and bedazzlements, with feathers and overpriced jewels. 

Damian was dressed in a dark green suit, one that Alfred had picked a little while ago. He was fully aware of the lustful stares he was given by the woman (and some of the men) there but he could care less. There was only one person he cared about impressing and that said person was “discreetly” stuffing themselves with a plate full of food in the corner. 

As an attendant of the Gala, you were in a stunning dress that fit every single curve of your body marvelously, all courtesy to Stephanie who helped you pick out the dress to begin with. Heat rose to his cheeks and he began fumbling with his tie. 

Damian was not the only one there to notice your beauty either. As you were trying to polish off your plate of food, several men had made attempts to woo you onto the dancefloor. Thankfully you declined all of their advances - Damian was not sure what he would have felt if you did. If it weren’t for the hundreds of other people present, he would have unquestionably sliced off the suitors hands if they tried to touch you again. 

“Ya Helo, you look…” His throat clogged as you stared up at him. “You look stunning…”

Damian was convinced that your smile was the brightest thing in the universe; he was also sure that it could cure any bout of irritation or sadness possible. 

“About time you showed up! Are you done flirting with the 70 year old women yet or does your dad want you back in there?” You poked his chest, the touch feeling like an electrical transfer. 

“You know that I would never flirt with those women back there, Habibti. My dad just wanted me to manipulate them into giving more of their money to charity.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he clasped it and brought it closer to his heartbeat. Your hands were a pebble compared to his own and yet they still managed to fit perfectly together like Incan architecture.

“I-I…” You looked away with a crooked smile. “I know that, obviously. I just wanted to tease you a bit!”

When you turned towards him once more, he noticed the way your eyes trailed down his visage, strawberry lips parting ever so slightly. Your laughter died in your throat. The scene felt like the ridiculous romcoms he analyzed from time to time while you were over. All he had to do was lean in a little bit closer and his dreams would be fulfilled-

The tight grip of someone’s hand seized his arm, effectively pulling him away from his darling. The movement caught Damian off guard (the second time that day). There was only a select handful of people who were able to sneak up on him like that…

“Mother.” Damian seethed, turning to gaze upon the woman with a cold glare. “What are you doing here?”

Fitted for the occasion in a sleek black dress, Talia crossed her arms and matched her son’s glare. “Is a mother not allowed to visit her son, especially when he has not messaged her in months?”

Damian stood in front of you, his hands slightly raised in case Talia decided to activate her mother bear mode. Talia’s eyes furrowed, her lip pursing. 

“How about you and your little friend follow me upstairs. You can tell me all about how you two met.” She suggested but her voice made it sound more like a threat. 

Damian hated how your smile disappeared and was replaced with an apprehensive grimace. He reached for your hand and squeezed. 

“Dami…” 

“It’ll be alright habib albi…” He whispered, squeezing your hand once again. As the three of them climbed up the stairs, the soft tune of the violin faded into nothing, not even background noise. 

“Mother, I find this hardly necessary. Could you have interfered in my life some other day?” Damian groaned. 

“Of course not, my son.” Talia shut the door of the room they entered. “If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to meet the girl who stole my beloved’s heart.”

Damian’s heart dropped. “I- what?”

“Y-you must be mistaken. Damian and I…Damian doesn’t like me like that!” You stuttered out with nervous laughter. 

Talia raised a single eyebrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe considering what I heard him call you.”

Fuck. Damian mentally slapped himself. He should have known that his mother would have heard him call you that. The pet name was just so natural to him, slipping off his tongue like sweet honey, he forgot that his mother would have been able to understand. 

You tilted your head towards Damian then back to Talia, reflexively playing with your hair. “I…maybe you misheard? He calls me these made up names, they really have no meaning.”

“Wait, so he has not told you what they meant?”

“No, he refused to tell me and when I looked it up, there were no search results.” You said. 

“Mother, please-” 

Talia raised her hand to silence him. “I can’t believe you have been lying to her, Damian! I have raised you better than that. She deserves to know that you are calling her Love of my heart and Darling in Arabic!”

You snapped your head towards Damian, who was internally screaming a colorful variety of cuss words towards his mother. He expected you to look horrified and slap him away, to run for the hills and never speak to him again. 

Instead you had this beautiful awestruck look in your galaxy-filled eyes. Your face was a deep crimson.

“Dami…” You hesitated. “Is this true?” 

The hopeful tone in your voice was as intoxicating as a few shots of bourbon.  

Damian imagined that the day he confessed to you would be atop a starry hill with perfectly blooming jasmines and evening primroses. He would pull you into his arms and whisper his love for you when the moon was at its peak, ending it with a kiss if you let him. It would have been perfect, if fate allowed it to be.

However, there were no starry hilltops or sweetly smelling fragrances - no moon that would peer over them and give its blessing. But you were there with him, an arm's reach away. As long as you were there, wasn't that all that mattered?

Damian glared at his mother, who was in the background with a smug smile, pretending to not overhear the conversation. When she didn’t get the message, he cleared his throat as loud as he could. 

“Fine. I suppose I’ll leave you to it - but I expect you to message me afterward since I did the hard work for you.” Talia sauntered her way out of the room, leaving you and Damian alone.

“You didn’t answer my question, Dami…” You glanced up at him with a shy smile. “Were you really secretly giving me pet names in Arabic?”

Reaching for your hands, Damian pulled you close to create a few inch gap. “Yeah…I wanted a way to show you how much I…how much I loved you without you figuring out.”

You giggled, the vibrations of it causing his heart to flutter. “You’re a dork, you know that? I would have reciprocated your feelings no matter what, but it would have been nice if you had told me sooner.” 

Your finger trailed down his neck to his collarbone, leaving a trail of lightning in its wake. “I demand more restitution for the time lost.”

Damian hummed, pretending to think of the perfect solution despite him already having one. You edged closer to him. 

“How about,” he began, “I kiss you until your lips are as blue as this night sky?”

But before you could respond, Damian already brought his lips to yours.  The dreams and fantasies he had did not live up to the actual softness of your lips - the subtle taste of raspberries filling his senses. 

Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Shouldn’t we go back to the Gala?”

Damian looked back at the door, contemplating how mad his father would be if he ditched the rest of the party. It was waning closer to midnight anyway and he could just say you were tired. 

He turned back to you, his smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “He’ll be fine. Besides, I would rather be with you than flirt with 70 year old women.”

Your attempted giggle was covered with the rougher press of his lips against yours, causing you to fall backwards onto the guest bed. After years of calling you Habibti, now he could finally say it without you thinking it was an insult.

Damian is a simp with huge dimples. Fight me.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Imagine doing your nails while Gibbs is down with his boat and he comes up earlier and expected and is surprised to see you awake

“Why are you still awake?”

“Why are you still awake?”

And him ending up staying until you’re done

Little Things

“I’ll be up soon.”

Your boyfriend’s famous words to you at least 3 times a week. You never understood why he said it as if he didn’t always end up coming to bed till many hours later, usually when you were already asleep.

You knew there were many reasons he stayed down there in the musky basement, tinkering away with his beloved DIY projects, decompression being one of them. Whether it was a stressful day at work, a particularly disturbing case he was assigned to, or just really dedicated to building various pieces of woodwork, he spent at least a quarter of his life down there.

It didn’t bother you for the most part, it was his biggest way of coping and you weren’t going to ruin that for him just so you could get a few extra hours of cuddles in with him.

But tonight was different, only because you were far from tired and decided that you’d use the time to do your nails.

Once you brought all of your supplies down into the living room, you turned the tv on low, mainly for white noise and got to work prepping your toes first. Your choice of color this week was going to be a taupe-like shade. Perfect color for the fall season and it would match with just about anything you wore. Had you been skilled enough, you would’ve added acrylics but decided to leave that to the professionals and just stick with the base and top coat.

After painting and cleaning up the edges on your toes, you got to work on the rest of your nails, struggling once it came to your non dominant hand. You were concentrating so hard on not painting outside the lines, you didn’t even notice your boyfriend come up.

“Why are you still awake?” he asked in curiosity, walking over to observe your makeshift nail salon. There were files, cue tips and cotton balls strewn across the dining room table and a half empty bag of kettle chips you had been intermittently snacking on.

“Why are you still awake?” you countered with playful sass.

He put up his hands in mock surrender and walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer before coming back over and taking a seat next to you. The silence was comfortable as he grabbed the remote and changed the channel, offering you a sip of his beer. You accepted, giving it back to him and grabbed the bag of chips, holding it out as an offer. He grabbed a handful and set it back on the table as you continued your painting, occasionally asking him to hand you the acetone soaked cotton ball.

Once you had gotten done applying the final top coat, your back was killing you and you were getting light headed from all the air blowing you did to speed up the drying process. Jethro was still relaxed into the couch beside you, hand caressing little patterns on your back, content as he went back and forth from watching his movie to watching you.

“How do you like the color? I think it’s very chic in my opinion,” you spoke, smiling as he nodded in agreement.

“Looks good,” was all he said. He could care less what color you painted your nails and only gave you an answer to make you happy but that’s one of the reasons why you loved him. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel beautiful and heard. Even when it came to minuscule things such as a nail polish color. You didn’t need him to give you long articulated compliments, you had figured out his shorthand a long time ago.

He made you stay on the couch as he cleaned everything up and turned everything off.

“You can grab your supplies in the morning,” he said before picking you up bridal style, making you laugh and hold onto his neck.

“Jethro, the polish is dry, I can walk.”

“I know.”

You reveled in how easily he carried you upstairs and into your bedroom, only setting you down so the both of you could brush your teeth and get undressed for bed.

The two of you faced each other in bed, you running your fingers through his hair as he hummed in appreciation with his eyes closed. Placing a kiss on his nose, you whispered.

“Goodnight Jethro.”

“Mnight,” he mumbled already half a sleep from your brushing fingers ministrations but pulled you in for a proper kiss afterwards, leaving you with a smile.