#he’s showing me all the things he wants to put on the tree. i just sigh and push him under it cause he’s the gift i always wanted.

[faynthearted]

this update is devastating for obvious reasons but there's something else I've been thinking about all day

yes, the box is a confirmation that guan shan considered he tian an important person in his life and that he never really moved on after he tian left. that realization is hard-hitting, but my god, there's another underlying component that makes this discovery especially emotional to me

after spending a lifetime in isolation (a deliberate choice for self-preservation btw), he tian now has physical, undeniable evidence that someone cares/cared for him. and not just the idea of him, not the physicality of him (guan shan literally covered his face with tape), but just him and the time they spent together

I imagine this realization must feel like if someone approached you in a quiet and windowless room and said, "there's a bad rainstorm happening outside." you would trust/understand what they're conveying and you'd have an idea of what a 'bad storm' entails. you'd say, "oof, that sucks, hopefully it lets up soon."

but if you actually got up and walked outside and felt the rain pelting your face like bullets and saw trees getting uprooted in the wind and streets flooding with swells of water and roofs getting torn off houses and streetlights shattered and collapsed in the intersections, you'd backpedal and think, "oh shit. I didn't know it was this bad."

that's what I think he tian might be experiencing in those last few panels.

during their school days, guan shan eventually started showing how much he cared about he tian. he tian trusted and understood what guan shan was trying to convey, and he got a taste of what it was like to care for someone and be cared for by someone. he sampled what it’s like to be important to someone, and to be seen by someone in both the dark and the light

but now, years later, opening that (bittersweet) memory box is like the equivalent of walking into the rainstorm. during the entire time he was gone, he tian was hoping that guan shan still remembered/missed him. he knew his absence probably hurt him, but since he wasn’t there to witness the aftermath, he only had an idea of what that hurt looked like. but his hope about guan shan’s feelings wasn't certain and it definitely wasn't verifiable. he tian had an idea of what ‘guan shan cared for me’ and ‘we shared something special’ meant. but, really, he only had memories and his own interpretation of those memories. nothing physical, nothing tangibly conclusive or outright

but now the rain feels like bullets and there’s devastation in knowing that the damage is significant — but somehow there’s also the touching revelation that he tian is lovable and capable of being wanted and missed. it is possible for someone to see the worst sides of him and endure the awful heartbreak he puts them through and still think he’s worth missing/grieving. he risked his self-preservation and the payoff was the best and worst thing that ever happened to him

the box and the layers of torn tape show that guan shan hates what he tian did to him but he doesn’t hate he tian. he kept and memorialized every significant memento in their relationship, even if he did it with some anger or reluctance. this is truly the best-case scenario, yet it’s also a wounding reminder about the time lost and the pain inflicted

at the end of the day, it just hurts

[hyunpic]

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

x. polite because no one deserves to be purposefully treated rudely. kind because kindness keeps a person gentle. sweet because making people smile is uplifting. helpful for the same reason. supportive because if you dont have anything nice to say, it's extremely easy not to say anything at all. above all, do unto others what you would have them do unto you.

o. polite because it's the best way to fade all the way into the background. kind because i'm too afraid to let myself be cruel. sweet because of overwhelming&pathetic desperation to make people happy. helpful because it's too exhausting to cause waves. supportive because other's goals are a great distraction from my own. above all, a smile makes the best camouflage as long as no one can ever see you sweat.

x. lonely+isolated because of mental+physical health restrictions. i miss people-- i miss being surprised, i miss relating to people on any level that isn't abject pain. i miss connection, communion, community.

o. alone+introspective because it pays off to be so. i don't miss people at all-- in fact it is a true sign of growth that it is not my knee-jerk reaction to say that i hate them for everything that (an admittedly small sampling of) people have done to me.

x. i am so terrified of communication at this point, &traumatized by Other People just in general, that i regularly shut my notifications off on everything because the sound of any form of notification ring that i recognize can literally kick off vicious panic attacks and send me running for dark corners, lmao. i am pathetic-- but i am a survivor.

o: i am charming, fun, &social to varying degrees dependent on the work. i am adaptable, everything from the center of attention to support staff with ease. smiling through blood in my mouth&talking to basically anyone for minutes to hours is child's play-- literally, since that is when i learned it.

x. pride over the skills i've developed over a lifetime of nonsense. made possible by mania, perhaps.

o. shame over the skills i've developed over a lifetime of nonsense. put off by disassociation, definitely.

x. i am kind and small and smiling and invisible. please just leave me alone. please don't even look at me, i literally cannot bear it, i just want to be alone again, please do not hurt me, i will do anything to make you happy if you just promise not to hurt me.

o. i am vicious and bloody and loud, and i will make you look at me, i will make you see me. i will give you a reason for that sneer, &i have no problem giving and taking blood in the process. my blood is worth so much less that i will win this no matter what-- i am braver than you could ever be because i have nothing that i'm afraid i'll lose.

x: i just want to make people smile.

o: i just want to never see another living person ever again.

x: like me, like me, like me. please just like me. i just want to be safe from abject hatred. i just want to be likeable. i can be anything, anyone-- it isn't like i want to keep all my parts, anyway, just tell me what i need to toss to be normal. just tell me what to chop off to be loveable.

o: i will give you every reason to fucking hate me if that is what's going to happen, anyway. i have spent a lifetime becoming who i am, usually against my will-- i can finally look in the mirror without flinching, &i won't let anyone take that away from me. you'll pry my forced self-acceptance out of my cold, dead hands.

x: i have been so lucky. i have been so fucking lucky. every single day i am reminded of all the many ways it could have been worse, things could have been worse, life could have been worse. i am so lucky. i owe the red string everything for letting me finally be someone i like sometimes.

o: i might have been lucky, but somehow i doubt anyone treating my gratitude or happiness like a red flag would be capable of living a day in my life-- or any singular one of the days i've lived thus far. but i can definitely give them a taste if that's what they need to wipe the snide looks off their faces. i'll hate myself after for giving in to the temptation, though. i always do.

x: there's good in everything. if you look for it, there will always be good somewhere. you just need to look. happiness is a conscious decision. kindness is a conscious decision. being a decent person is a perpetual and conscious decision.

o: there's bad in everything, too, and the second i see it, i cannot unsee it. or forgive it, usually. why is it so much easier to see how much people fucking suck?

x: i want perfection. practice, constant effort, dedication-- i need perfection, i'll get perfection. if i can't, what's the point? if there's not even the possibility, what is the fucking point? how am i supposed to live if i know my lifelong goal is&always has been unattainable?

o. perfection isn't an objective possibility. how many times&different ways do i need to fail at the impossible reality before it actually settles in. it isn't possible. i'm dedicating my life to an impossible pursuit. more specifically, i'm committing myself to eternal&constant punishment for failure. why, though. why am i like this.

x. i hate myself so much sometimes i feel like i might actually lose my mind.

o. i am so full of pride sometimes i feel like i might burst at the fucking seams with it all.

x. i am terrified that i'm not capable of living unless it's fighting uphill. who am i without the struggle? who am i past the trauma?

o. if fighting uphill is what made me what i am, what does it matter if i never lose the edge? why should it matter if i need the extra motivation? if i can handle it, why should the struggle be a bad thing?

[melancholic-fig]

What I loved about the Substance was that it took impossible body standards imposed on women seriously. It didn't treat me like a kid throwing a temper tantrum about not being sexy. It didn't try to tell me "everyone is beautiful" and "every body is a beach body" in a pitiable voice that makes it all worse. There's no one singing to me about how "I cannot see my own beauty", as if validation from men will ever be enough to cover the black hole in my stomach drilled by years of self-loathing, binging-purging cycles and appetite-suppression pills. It haven't stopped for a second to congratulate itself for platitudes.

The substance threw an ice bucket on my head, grabbed me by the shoulders, dragged me to the mirror and told me "look at what violence you're inflicting on yourself!". It showed me a perfect body, the carrot on the stick, and then it hit it with a sledgehammer in white neon light. Is it worth it? Aren't you mad? Look at how he eats shrimp and doesn't wash his hands - is this the person you want to be liked by? Is this what you deserve for being human, really?

I've seen this movie on Friday and it's been stuck in my head ever since. I haven't looked in the mirror the same again. Somehow this made me kinder to myself.

I've seen reviewers say that this movie counts as "male gaze" and "violence against women" but I think they don't see the forest from the trees here.

First the male gaze: it felt like a deconstruction, in the best way. Sue's butt was the least erotic thing ever put to screen. The soft porn dance studio was shot in a lifeless manner, I felt like my mom was reading the browse history. Personally, I'd never want to have Sue's job. Even the sexist dudes that watch the movie seem to "get it", that their overly sexual media diet looks embarassing under the microscope. The medium is the message, and the sound and visual cues are all there to make sex appeal look very unappealing and immature. There's nothing sexy in "Pump it up", it's catchy and fun and has sexual undertones, but not a hint of sensuality.

Then the violence against women: there is only one scene where a man attacks a woman, and I'll not spoil it, but i'll say it's so bizzare it feels too cartoony to count. The rest of the violence is all self-inflicted. Every step of the way. Women don't just suffer abuse under patriarchy from men, they self-inflict and reenforce the structures of their own suffering onto others. Elizabeth is a fitness coach actively making bank off of other women's fears, and in the process of telling everyone over x kg to skip lunch she's grown her own self-loathing too. It wasn't really the horny men watching the fitness show, isn't it? Sue is even worse, she goes on talk shows to tell women her looks come from being kind, a silly statement considering she injects herself daily with an old woman's spine liquid while loathing her for existing. Elizabeth and Sue are both victims and perpetuators of violence, and it's gruesome because it's not a silly feminine thing, it's all-encompassing and a matter of life and death. Without violence, what would be the message of the movie? "It kinda sucks to be a woman hating your body". Doesn't sting, isn't it? This is not chopping women and putting them in refrigerators to give the good guy a reason to kill the baddie, this has to be violent to show the depth of pain of the protagonist. It's necessary. And I like it, because crying and wallowing in pain is not the behaviour you want to see on screens, it feels lethargic and leads to the problem not being taken as seriously.

[lizardho]

I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.

The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.

So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.

My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.

This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.

My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.

Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”

That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.

We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.

The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.

I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[mwagneto]

hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator

🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow

not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option

🪺 magánügyek Follow

tengri forbid women do anything???

735 notes

🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.

8,572 notes

🐎 istván-rovására Follow

that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧

481 notes

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG

✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow

love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????

#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse

3,264 notes

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3

🏇 attila-népe Follow

cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you

🧺 lemezelő Follow

isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????

🏇 attila-népe Follow

you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)

🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow

Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

what the fuck happened to my post

19,276 notes

🪔 rakabonciás Follow

for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.

🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep

anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!

646 notes

🛐 mea-culpa Follow

It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp

#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse

198 notes

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

WRONG BLOG

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS

🪺 magánügyek Follow

ISTVÁN????????????? 💀

[sanguineterrain]

holiday spirit | jason todd

Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!

the divider

You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 

You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancés, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.

Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 

Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.

So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 

You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 

The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 

"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.

Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 

"Oh my God.”

He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”

"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."

"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.

"What, um—" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”

"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"

Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."

"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."

He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 

Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."

"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 

"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"

"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 

"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."

You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.

"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."

You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"

Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."

You blink. "What?"

"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."

Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.

five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.

“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.

“Yup. Good eye.”

"This seems... illegal.”

"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”

He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 

"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."

Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"

"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."

"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"

"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."

"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”

He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 

“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”

You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 

“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."

You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.

Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 

Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"

"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"

“Does your left arm hurt?”

“No, but—”

“Are your limbs stiffening?”

“No, but—”

“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”

Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 

It’s quiet for a second. Then— 

“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.

"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 

There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.

"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.

"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling… not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."

You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"

"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."

So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.

"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.

"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."

You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 

“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”

It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 

“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”

Yeah, but what if you lose your job?

You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”

“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”

“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"

You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.

"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”

"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 

Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh…”

You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”

You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.

“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.

"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.

"What the hell? Why not?"

"Because—"

There's a creak from the back. You wince. 

Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"

He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.

"Would you stop—is someone here?"

"My boyfriend!" you blurt.

Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."

"Well, I have one and he's here."

"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"

"Because he's... um..."

You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 

Oh, this is a terrible idea.

"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.

Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."

"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."

"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”

Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"

"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.

Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."

He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.

"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 

“How… do you know his name?”

“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 

"Oh… yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."

"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."

"What? No! Hood—"

"Oh, relax. I was kidding."

"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."

Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.

"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”

"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.

"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."

"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”

“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”

“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”

"Well…” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”

“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 

“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”

But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 

Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.

"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."

His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.

"You're pretty crafty," he says. 

"...Thanks?”

Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”

“You will?”

He tilts his head. “Should I not?”

“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”

He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."

"Y-yeah, got it."

Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."

"Who's Roy?"

"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."

He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.

"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 

This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.

But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.

And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?

The door swings open. You turn around.

“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 

“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 

You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 

He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.

“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 

And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 

His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.

“What?” he snaps, glaring.

“Nice eyes,” you blurt.

His brows furrow. You remember the guns.

“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.

Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."

"Okay."

"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."

"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."

"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."

He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.

"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.

"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"

“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”

"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.

"The same one who takes Xanax?”

“Would you believe it?”

You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.

“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 

“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”

“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 

"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."

"Your family doesn't celebrate?"

Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.

The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.

"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."

You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.

"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."

You nod. “Got it.”

“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”

You smile tightly. “As promised.”

A few people wave. Others cheer. 

“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.

“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.

“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”

“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.

“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”

You shrug. “Never came up.”

“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”

“Th-that’s right… honey,” you say, face going hot.

“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”

You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.

“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”

You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.

“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.

“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”

“Not like that. Just… it’ll be handled. Okay?”

You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”

Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”

You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 

Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 

“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”

“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.

You smile. “Glad you like it.”

You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 

Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”

You can guess exactly how he feels about that.

"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”

"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."

She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."

Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.

But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 

And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 

"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.

"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"

"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."

He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.

"Thank you for that," you say.

Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."

"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."

"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”

You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”

"And where is she?"

"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."

"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.

"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"

He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.

“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”

“So?”

He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 

It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 

“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 

Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 

“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 

“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”

“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”

His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”

“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 

Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 

You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 

“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”

The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 

He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”

“No, some people mixed it here.”

“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.

“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 

“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 

“That's what I say!” 

He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 

The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 

And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 

"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"

One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 

Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.

"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"

Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.

"No pictures," he says.

You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.

"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"

"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"

The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"

"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.

As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.

"Wow," you say.

"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."

You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.

"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."

Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.

"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.

"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"

"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.

Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"

"Yeah…” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”

"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."

You two go off to the side while Hood dials.

"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?

"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 

"Why?”

“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”

“Zombie breath.”

“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 

“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”

“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”

“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.

You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.

"Who's that?" the voice asks.

"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"

"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”

“It’s the TV,” Hood says.

“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know…”

“Mind your damn—”

“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 

Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then…

“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”

“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”

“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.

You look at each other for a moment. 

“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”

“Got it.” 

“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about…” 

His phone beeps. You look around the room. 

Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!

Holy shit. 

"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."

"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.

"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"

"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"

"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 

You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 

Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 

“Hood!” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 

Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”

And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 

You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 

You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 

Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 

“Y’alright?” he asks. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”

He lets go. You shift on your feet. 

“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 

Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”

The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 

“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 

You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 

The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 

“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”

The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”

You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.

“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”

As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 

“What is that?” you hiss. 

“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not…”

He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 

“That wasn’t—”

“I didn’t—”

You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 

“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 

Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh…”

“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”

“Yup. Find Matt?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.

“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 

“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 

“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 

“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”

“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 

“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.

“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”

He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 

Fifteen Minutes Later.

“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 

“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 

“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 

Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 

“Almost there!” he says. 

“Hey! What're you doing?” 

You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 

An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal… though after tonight, you're not so sure. 

“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”

The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 

“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”

Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 

The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 

The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 

“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”

He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”

“And I commend you for that.” 

“Are you sassing me?” 

Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 

Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 

“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”

The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 

You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?

Bang!

You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 

Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 

“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 

Shoot? Oh no.

You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 

Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 

You can't just leave him there. 

Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 

Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 

Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 

You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.

“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.

That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 

“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 

“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”

Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”

“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”

Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 

He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”

“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 

You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 

You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?

“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”

“Then we'll take care of her too.”

Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 

“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”

Candy? Why would—oh!

On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 

“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.

You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 

“Are you o—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 

“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”

You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.

“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 

“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  

Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 

Matt fires four more shots. 

“Fuck you, cop!” 

“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”

“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 

Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 

“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”

You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 

“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 

“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”

“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 

“What?”

Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 

“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”

He ignores you, of course. 

“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”

And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 

“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 

“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 

Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 

Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 

“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 

You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 

“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 

“Yeah.”

It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 

He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 

“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”

“You let go of the hook?”

You stop. “Um. No?” 

Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 

“I knew you were inside the office!”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”

“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”

“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 

“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 

You laugh. “I already think that.”

Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.

“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 

“With pleasure.”

“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.

“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 

You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 

There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 

“Hood… what did you do?” 

“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”

“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 

“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”

You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”

“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well…”

You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 

Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 

“So—”

“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”

“Hood…”

He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”

“And what would I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”

You open and close your mouth. “I don't… I don't know what to say.”

“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”

“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”

“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”

“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”

Hood nods. “Deal.”

You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.

“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”

He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”

You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”

“Oh, I will. Will you?”

He laughs. “No promises.” 

Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 

In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.

[wonderjanga]

We Thought You Died?!

Billy became a hero in 1959, and he was a hit. He was extremely popular. Captain Marvel was a beloved hero. As for the Squadron of Justice? They were beloved too. They, plus Captain Marvel were the superheroes of that time. They were the flipping blueprint for being a hero, especially Captain Marvel. Then the bubble formed in 62, and they just disappeared off the face of the earth and everyone thought he died.

Then, out of nowhere, they just reappeared.

News channel: *showing a clip of Marvel*

Grandson: *tugs on Grandma’s sleeve* “Grandma, that looks like the hero guy the teacher are making us learn about.”

Grandma: “Amazing. He looks just like the real thing.”

Yeah… People didn’t really believe it at first. Though, to be fair, all the Fawcett heroes have been gone for over sixty years.

Old Man: “It’s disrespectful is it what is. Just because you have the same powers doesn’t mean you can dress up as a dead hero.”

Old Woman: “ I just feel bad for the families. To see someone dress up as your dead husband or wife and then go around pretending to be them? Disgraceful.”

It was then the Justice League got involved. They really couldn’t have these people running around like this. Not only that, but some of the imposters are lethal. Not to mention that there are people in the Justice League who used to know the Fawcett heroes. They were friends with them for Christ’s sake. So that’s why unanimously, they went and confronted these guys.

Supes: *hovering over Fawcett*

Marvel: *helps a cat out of a tree and sees him so he flies up*

Supes: *disapproving look* “I hope you know that if you’re trying to be a her—”

Marvel: “Oh my gods, your suit is awesome!”

Supes: “Thank you…?

Marvel: “Are you a new hero? What’s your name? Are you from Fawcett or are you gonna join us here?”

Supes: *computing, still stuck on the first question*

Meanwhile, Flash and Minuteman were arguing which then somehow spiraled into them getting tacos. Batman and Robin, and Mister Scarlet and Pinky are just fighting. And Bulletgirl and Wonder Woman had a civil conversation that actually got them a lot of information.

After sorting out the entire misunderstanding that they were all imposters, things thankfully got lighter.

Marvel: “Oh my gods, Jay, you’re an old man! What happened to your long luscious locks of beautiful brown hair?”

Barry: *holding back a laugh* “Long luscious locks?”

Jay: “Okay, it was not long, luscious, or beautiful. He just insists on calling it that to embarrass me.”

Marvel: “But it’s true! Or it was true.”

Jay: “No it wasn’t. I had perfectly average hair, thank you very much.”

Yeah, Billy met up with some of his old friends, and they were all ecstatic to see their eight feet tall, golden retriever who just wanted to make the world a better place.

Marvel: “So your not an hero anymore? Then what happened to the JSA?”

Alan Scott (First Green Lantern): “We disbanded…”

Marvel: “WHAT? Why?”

Alan: “Well, we were getting old. We needed to retire.”

Marvel: “Oh yeah.” *sounds a little bummed*

Alan: “I mean, there’s now this thing called the Justice League? Wildcat joined them. So did Mr. Terrific.”

Marvel: “That sounds like a ripoff of you guys!”

He joins anyways. So do the other Fawcett heroes cause they might as well. That’s when things go down hill once more because the JL are forced to remember that a couple Fawcett heroes, mostly Spy Smasher, kill people.

Batman and Spy Smasher: *tied up the Joker after beating up his goons*

Spy Smasher (SS): “Alright, let’s get out of here.” *pulls out a gun and puts it to the Joker’s forehead*

Batman: “What are you doing?”

SS: “I’m ending this…?” *cocks his gun*

Batman: *slaps the gun away* “No, you’re not. He’s going back to Arkham.”

SS: *pulls another gun out* “Yes, I am. Are you seriously telling me you don’t want to permanently end this guy? I’ve heard people call him a terrorist.”

The two then duked it out and the Joker still went back to Arkham anyways. Spy Smasher was so salty, not that literally anyone could blame him.

Marvel: “Wait, so people don’t kill villains anymore?”

SS: *sitting next to him, bandaged*

Wildcat: “Nope. Nowadays, you got to turn them into the police and let them break out again. I know it’s stupid.”

Marvel: “But what about the mass murderers? What about the Black Adams or the Captain Nazis? People who have done messed up stuff?”

Wildcat: “To jail they go. Why do you care anyways? It’s not like you killed any of your villains.”

Marvel: “Well, I didn’t, but I gotta ask because Smasher is trying so hard not to physically claw off his own skin at the thought of these guys just breaking back out.”

Safe to say, getting used to the modern world, took some getting used to for everyone. As for Billy, he chills with the gang at the old folks home, reminiscing about times as if he’s aged with them.

Also, like, genuinely, their disappearance would show up in top ten unsolved mysteries vids because genuinely, they just disappeared with no trace.

Billy also doesn’t know what to think of the many memorials he finds of himself and the other Fawcett heroes around the country.

[reshinless]

Hiii, it's me again, I'm here to ask abt kinich- anyways, Reader is kind of insecure and self conscious and she's dating kinich, and she sees how good mualani is to kinich and starts to ask herself if she should actually be with him (+I would appreciate it you somehow turn this into smut because I'm a dog for him🤭)

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD UTC.

you knew kinich was close with her too, but you couldn't help but feel like you weren't as good as she was.

you saw the way she looked at him, what were you supposed to do? you knew she'd never pursue someone in a relationship but she always asked about your relationship with kinich.. was she hoping you'd break up?

well i'll be glad to answer that no she does not! but ill explain more later.

you continued to feel like you weren't a good partner, therefore distancing yourself from the man you fell in love with.

maybe he was better off with her. or at least so you thought. you see, mualanj was giving him advice on how to treat you, she always smiled whenever her and kinich spoke about it.. because.. well.. it was funny to her how he doesn't know how to talk to you.

you have barely had your first kiss with him, and he's never had anyone else like you before.. so he had to ask a professional (mualani plus her 0 relationship experience advice)

"just remember to make them feel at home! you notice if they've been sad or anything recently?" mualani puts up her surfboard up on a tree, sitting on the soft grains of sand on the beach.

"i.. feel like they've been running away from me.. did i do anything wrong?"

mualani realized immediately why you'd distance yourself; you were jealous. kinich has a dense sense for romance, so he wouldn't notice immediately unless.. well professional couplw therapist mualani ensures it doesn't happen again!

once kinich realizes what he's done, he goes to find you as soon as possible. not even hearing out more of mualani's words. she was sure you both would figure it out anyway.

but trust me kinich is quick on his feet to tell you how you're everything to him.

when you tell him you didn't believe him.. well i guess he just had to show you.

kinich who learned a few things from the books mualani threw at him, she didn't realize one of them was basically sex in a book, as he read on, he wanted to try out a specific scene.

laid out in front of him, taking his gloves off carefully tossing them to the side. prepping your hole for him to treat you good. your wetness already all over his fingers as he added another digit progressively.

he who hums into your ear, hearing how well you whimpered, and whined out his name. he could only praise you for how good you took him.

your cunt sucked him inside so well, the sounds of pleasure echoed throughout the hallway in the gap of the unlocked door.

your walls started to tighten around his cock, but that wouldn't stop him from penetrating you. he'd make sure by tonight that no one other than you could make him cum.

kinich who likes to put you into a mating press, your legs held high above your head, he slaps the soft skin of your ass, before laying a kiss onto your wet cunt, mixed with cum of your own and his.

kinich will make sure you know that he loves you more than anyone else. and he wants you to do the same (not that you weren't already doing that.)

but when its all over, his words are sweet, learning a thing or two from whatever mualani discussed with him. clearing the air on why he had been talking to mualani more recently.

he just meant to ask her about advice on what to get you for your next anniversary 🩵

[sadbicth]

israel posted a video of them giving water bottles to palestinians on a beach, then destroyed their luggage and shot at them after they stopped recording.

israel posted a photo of one of their soldiers "assisting" with an elderly man, then they shot him twice in the back and killed him.

in 2015, the idf posted pr photos of an israeli soldier giving water to an elderly palestinian woman, only for them to execute her after the photo was taken.

in 2005, an idf soldier emptied his rifle into a 13-year-old palestinian schoolgirl. he said he would have done the same thing if she was 3-years-old. he was acquitted of all charged.

israel claimed that hamas beheaded 40 israeli babies and then a month later cut off power to a palestinian hospital where premature babies were on incubators.

israel bombed a group of children collecting rainwater.

israel shot and killed two palestinian children playing with their scooter.

israel shot a hard of hearing girl in the face with a stun grenade and broke her jaw.

israel is using bombs with blades that are designed to cause maximum damage to the person in range.

israel forced medical workers at al-Nasr medical center to leave babies in incubators in order to evacuate the hospital they were bombing.

israel turned off power to hospitals in palestine, forcing nurses and doctors to use their phone flashlights when treating patients.

israel raised their flag over Al Shifa hospital.

israel has blown up the chambers of the palestinian legislative council.

israel targeted a "suspicious vehicle containing several terrorists”, meanwhile the only people in the car were three girls, ages 10, 12, and 14, their grandmother, and their mother. the only survivor was the three girls' mother.

israel planted a copy of mein kampf in a children's bedroom in a gazan house they claim hamas was hiding in.

israel poured fake blood onto the floor of an israeli child's bedroom and claimed hamas killed them.

israeli soldiers posted a video of them dancing on gazan graves.

israel posted a video showing a calendar in a palestinian children's hospital was a hamas guard list because it was written in arabic.

israel was using white phosphorus on hospitals.

israel bombed a refugee camp.

israel has burned olive trees in palestine.

israel has put cement into the water supply of palestine.

israel claimed that they found tunnels under Al Shifa hospital, only for it to be exposed that those tunnels are actually in sweden.

israel built a bunker and command room under Al Shifa hospital in 1983, only for them to now say that they are hamas tunnels.

israeli police arrested an israeli high school teacher, who posted on facebook expressing sympathy with palestinian civilians who have been killed.

israeli soldiers filmed themselves throwing a stun grenade into a palestinian mosque.

we are witnessing a genocide in real time framed under the guise of stopping hamas. israel has been terrorizing palestine for as long as israel has existed, but their access to technology and social media has made it much easier to fool people into supporting them.

meanwhile, noah schnapp is posting that zionism is sexy and celebrities are standing with israel. just absolutely twisted shit.

edit: for those who would like sources, my twitter is alliiesmith. i have retweeted everything i’ve mentioned. i apologize for not providing this sooner

edit 2: i’ve had some people in the replies and reposts pointing out that linking my twitter seems like promotion. i just wanted to clear up that that was not my intention. i’ve been retweeting resources and news much faster than i’m able to add to this post, and i thought that my twitter profile could be something of a hub for information. i don’t care if you follow me, but i think scrolling through and seeing what i’ve retweeted could be helpful.

[feralforfrank]

drabbles i found in my notes - instead of posting part two of the christmas thing i wrote 😖

simon riley x fem!reader

you're on the couch, mindlessly watching a tv show when the front door unlocks. simon walks in, and you barely lift your hand to greet him. he'd gone for a run almost an hour ago, claiming he didn't want to waste a perfectly cloudy afternoon. you opted to stay under your warm blanket.

you hear rustling as he shuts the front door, and that's what draws your attention. takeout is your first thought, but you would've smelt it, and you already have leftovers from lunch.

lifting your head curiously, you only see simon's broad back in the kitchen table. you can't figure out what he's doing, but you're too lazy to get up and find out, and so you stay planted on the couch, head turned in a weird angle to catch a glimpse.

when he finally turns to face you, your mouth opens, surprised eyebrows rise in curiosity. there's a batch of lilies on your kitchen table and another colourful bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"brought you flowers," is all he says when he approaches the couch, sitting by your feet.

he offers, and you grab them, bringing them to inhale. "why?"

he shrugs. "were pretty, and i thought of ya."

-

taking riley out for a walk is one of your favourite things, especially when it's just snowed. she loves running around the snow as much as you do. simon just likes tagging along because the park right next to your flat is empty and peaceful.

she's an obedient girl, listening to her dad and not tugging at her leash while you're walking. but as soon as you arrive at the snowy park and unclip her leash, she becomes the devil of tazmania.

you play tag with her, running around the trees, bushes, and the small playground. simon opts to stay seated on a bench hidden under some trees and watch you, occasionally snapping pictures of you — particularly when riley trampled you to the ground.

he's paying attention to his phone when an idea lights up your eyes. the snowball hits him square in the face and you cheer, not even trying to hide the fact that you're the perpetrator (not that there was anyone else in this park, moreso in his vicinity).

simon's beanie and mask are covered in snow, as are his eyelashes. his glare is non-threatening, yet intimidating as fuck. you smile innocently, but it falters when he stands up at once.

"yur gonna pay for tha', love."

fifteen minutes later, you're returning home, your jacket, gloves, and lower body are soaked. you sport red nose and cheeks and a prominent scowl, while simon looks smug under his mask. riley is just happy to be there.

"c'mon rudolph, i'll warm ya right up when we get 'ome."

-

playing monopoly with simon and his buddies is the worst thing in the world. torture, really. they all cheat! yes, even captain price, although he thinks he hides it well by putting on his thinking face.

kyle and johnny sit on the other side of your coffee table, price sits on the loveseat and simon next to you, peaning back against the couch. he has a huge arm over your shoulders, playing with the hem of your shirt every time you get upset with their shenanigans.

"come on, garrick! i'm not fucking stupid - you said a hundred and twenty the last time i came around. now you say it's a hundred and eighty, like i won't notice!"

"i'm not cheating! you're just hard if hearing!"

your eyes widen, mouth drops in shock.

"ha!" exclaims johnny with a laugh.

you point at him. "you should not even be in the game - you went bankrupt like three times!"

"uh, 'scuse me, bonnie, but as you can see i have money right here." he points on the spot in front of him. he has barely enough to last him a round.

"that's because price has been sneaking money to you. i'm not blind! simon, back me up!"

he takes a drag of his cigarette and shrugs, barely able to conceal a smile at your flushed cheeks. your jaw drops, again. that fucker is in on it.

"you dick! you're letting him rob the bank! you are the bank! ugh." your head falls on the table with a thud.

you hear price chuckle.

"you're all terrible," you mumble.

"you'll live," replies kyle.

you're stubborn enough to finish the game and be at least not the first person to lose. johnny ends up losing after you catch price red-handed giving him the money - you turned to sip on your drink for one second. simon is the next to go, but you end up losing to kyle. you shake hands, promising threatening to play again next time you visit his house.

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ EVERYBODY TALKS (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels

a/n: this was one of my wips i posted foREVER ago so enjoy the full one shot whilst i finish off some written stuff. based on everybody talks by neon trees🙇‍♀️🤍

*faceclaim (but imagine as you see her fit) is millie hannah

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by alex_albon, danielricciardo and 451,608 others

landonorris boo’s birthday

view all comments

alex_albon here’s a thought stop calling her your boo and actually make her your boo

this comment has been hidden by the original poster

user did anyone else see that comment or am i making things up

user bro just ask her out i swear to god

user last photo is feeling very intimate mr. norris

alex_albon happy birthday y/n/n, please don’t get me super drunk tomorrow

user i saw that last comment mr ur not slick

yourusername no promises albono i intend to do a lot of shots

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 47,009 others

yourusername y/n’s big birthday bash🪩

👤 tagged landonorris, friend1 and 6 others

view all comments

landonorris did u run to the bathrooms just to post on instagram

yourusername stfu and order me shots

user is anyone else now thinking about how often y/n probably sees lando shirtless👁️👄👁️

user i’ve been thinking about it since she first posted that photo of him in the gym showing his abs

user @/user TAG ME IN THAT WTF

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 43,001 others

yourusername 💋

view all comments

user MA’AM YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLY ATTRACTIVE

lilymhe is that the lip combo i suggested because GIRL IT SUITS YOU

user lando MOVE i want her too

landonorris pretty

landonorris where are you off to?

yourusername meeting that friend i told you about on my bday!

y/n’s texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 45,610 others

yourusername race days

view all comments

maxverstappen1 you’re a jinx. never come again

maxverstappen1 (it was lovely to see you)

yourusername hope you enjoyed your time in the garage🥰🥰

user come to every race you’re good luck

user personally if my best friend was super hot and came to cheer me on looking that good i’d cuff her but maybe lando’s different

yourusername nah he’s just oblivious

landonorris @/yourusername HUH

yourusername @/landonorris i said what i said

tmz just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername responded: yes, literally everyone.

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 500,018 others

landonorris lando: 1, friendzone: 0

view all comments

user FUCKIN FINALLY.

user @/yourusername i could treat you better

alex_albon you’re not really winning if you’ve been pining over her for two years mate

landonorris shut the fuck up before she sees this

yourusername @/landonorris TWO YEARS??? TWO YEARS AND YOU SAID NOTHING????

user uh oh. lando’s in trouble

————

a/n: this was… weak i apologise im still settling in😭 just wanted to put something out whilst i finish my charles/seb/lando written one shots eek!

as always any reblogs and whatnot appreciated. big love xx

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐝𝐚𝐲: 𝟎.𝟏𝟒 - 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Bodyguard!Natasha x fem!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, top!Nat, bottom!reader, bratty!reader, slight brattamer!Nat, age gap, car sex, spanking, manhandling?, hair pulling, strap on,

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha is your new bodyguard, who’s not willing to put up with any of your bullshit

𝐀/𝐍: we hit 2000 followers so I got something special planned after kinktober

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧e

Natasha kept her Rey Bens on while she waited outside the college you were attending, you were practically fresh meat in her eyes with your 19 years of age. She would love to leave all this behind and settle down alone somewhere in the wilderness. But Natasha needed your dear daddy's money first, so she was stuck as a glorified babysitter. 

She heard the passenger door slam shut when you entered on your goddamn phone like always. "I thought the driver was gonna pick me up" She scoffed, and asked himself if school uniforms always looked so... slutty "Gotta take up with me" She murmured watching you from the corner of her eye, she knew you why your last bodyguard was fired and it was getting harder by the minute not to step in his footsteps 

You didn’t honour her another glance as you stared into the passing trees and cars which flashed by your eyes as he drove down the streets. Which greatly annoyed Natasha, you weren’t supposed to ignore her like that, like she didn’t even exist to you. She wanted you to look at her with those big doe eyes, while you begged her for more. 

“You’re just gonna stare out the window like that?” Natasha scoffed but still got no reaction from you. “Take that damn things out-“ She reached over and before you could even register she had pulled it out your ear, throwing it in the backseat. 

“They were expensive” you snapped “I don’t fucking care now stop throwing a damn tantrum and relax” She murmured out her knuckles turning white by how hard she was gripping the damn wheel. How she would love to fuck that damn attitude out of you. “Dick” I mumbled under your breath just quite enough for Natasha to overhear. 

“You’re just gonna sit here and pout like a brat?” She asked, not getting an answer from you. “If you behave like one maybe I should just lay you over my knee and give you what brats deserve” She spat and you could clearly see the anger in her eyes. 

“Oh kinky” Your voice was addictive as you teased the older woman “Ist that an invitation?” You could practically see the wheels turning in her brain as she was thinking what to make of that statement. 

Without another word she pulled into an empty park deck and searched for the most desolate place in it. When the engine shut off the room was filled with uncomfortable silence. “Get your damn ass in the back I’m teaching you a lesson” She murmured and you listened. 

She put you over her lap, her hands massaging the flesh of your ass. “You’re such a damn brat” Natasha had to laugh “A damn slut too. Oh what would your dear old man say if he saw you like that” She teased knowing her words would get you. 

But you could only whimper when her hands hitched your skirt up to reveal some pretty pink panties. “I’m sorry” You whined hoping she’d go easy on you now “You’re only sorry because I called you out on your bullshit” 

“You’re gonna count each spank, understood” Natasha asked, her voice filled with mockery. You nodded fast to get it over with in hopes she would  maybe touch you more sensually after. The first slap was almost careful to test water with you, but it still made you yelp. “O- one” you stuttered gripping her leg harder. 

Another smack this time harder “two” She had to smile at your desperate sounds “You’re so cute making those sounds I almost have pity for you” She smirked and you heard how she was savoring this moment. It was satisfying to finally show your place. She adjusted your panties over your cheeks again, her hands cold against your hot flesh. “Such a pretty girl” She cooed, reaching out for your hair to pull your head up “You're a pretty girl isn’t that right?” You moaned out at the word feeling your panties starting to wet “I’m your pretty girl”

By the tenth smack she had brought you to tears, your massacre running down your cheeks and it made Natasha just all the more desperate for a taste. “Learned your lesson baby?” she cooed her hands rubbing over your sensitive skin. You nod wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. Natashas strong hands pulled you up to strangle her lap. “You want a reward now, don’t you baby girl” She sweetly kissed your neck. 

“Yes” You whispered, hiding your face in her shoulder. You could make out sounds of her jeans opening to reveal her gritty strap “your so wet baby” she hushed pulling your panties to the side “all for you” Natasha hummed satisfied with your answer, she guided you down on her strap only after the tip you were already clinging to her shoulders for dear life. “Aw” She mocked “Is my cock to big for your little pussy” You nodded tears staining your shirt “then you’ll have to learn to take it” 

She guided you further down her strap, you couldn’t help but moan at her intrusion. Once you were bottomed out by the older woman you could swear you’d feel her at your cervix. You started to move up and down her strap, the bouncing making your breaths giggle in her face as licked over your perky nipples. You cried out with each move of your hips, wishing that the older women would just help you. 

But she was busy worshipping your chest, peppering light kisses over your soft skin as she listened to the sweet melody of your moans. “Such a good girl” She whispered, rubbing her thumbs over your sensitive nipples, making you squeak.She noticed your tired expression as you started to feel the burn in your muscles , you simply weren’t used to having to work for your pleasure. 

“You’re you” You cried, after what felt like an eternity for your legs with still nothing to make up for. Her hands went to your waist keeping it grounded, which also made you release a sound of disagreement. “Such a brat” She chuckled.

“You can’t even make yourself cum huh? Guess you’re so dumbed down you need my help with everything” She spat guiding your hips at a much faster pace. She vigorously fucked into your puffy pussy making you squeal like an abused puppy. 

“Fucking slut got what she fucking wanted huh.” She grabbed your hair pulling it back “You gonna cum whore? Gonna cum on my cock like a bitch?” You cried out once more, loving the way she treated you. “Fuck yes” She chuckled still moving you at a fast pace, the harness felt so good against her clit. “Yeah cum on my cock” 

With a few more harsh fucks you came over her lap falling into her embrace. “Good girl” She whispered, her hands rubbing you back. “Did I hurt you baby?” You shook her head recovering from your orgasm. “No, I’m fine… but you didn’t cum” She chuckled “I’m alright, the vision of you was enough for me, but we have to get going before your daddy fires me because we’re so late”

[thinemoonshine]

୨୧ 𝓱𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝓪𝐧𝐝 𝓱𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ in which (y/n), enhypen's 8th member, and her feminine habits lead to the boys developing their own as well

enhypen 8th fem!member x hyung line genre: fluff type: oneshot word count: 723

bringing her scrunchies everywhere (l.hs & p.js)

"Use this," Jay says upon noticing (y/n)'s struggle and helps tie her long hair up into a loose ponytail as she eats her breakfast.

(y/n)'s brows raise and she emits a closed-lip gasp of surprise, occupied with chewing her rice before smiling gratefully at him when he takes the seat in front of her. "Thanks! Where'd you find it?"

"On the couch," the older replies with his lips pulled into that casual, charming half smile of his.

"I think I saw one on the coffee table too," Heeseung chimes in and (y/n) makes a mental note to check on it. Later on, she does in fact find her scrunchie— and not just one of them but two.

After leaving her scrunchies and hairties practically everywhere, Heeseung and Jay tend to be the ones picking them up or the ones to find them— leading them to unintentionally be her very own scrunchie lockers.

Award shows? Heeseung will probably have a pink hairtie around his wrist, hiding under his sleeve. Jay will probably have some stuffed into the pocket of his pants.

En-O' Clock? Jay has some new scrunchies he randomly bought for her still in his bag while Heeseung picked her hairtie up from the makeup room when she got dolled up.

Basically anytime in the dorm? Oh, the scrunchies are layered on their arms like warmers. They might even be using one for their own hair— just walking around the dorm with a palm-tree on their crown held together by soft, fluffy rubber ties.

using flowery coasters (s.jy)

"Look at these new ones I made! Aren't they cute?" (y/n) asks excitedly while showcasing Jake her freshly made pieces of crochet coasters on their coffee table.

He gasps dramatically with a hand flying to his mouth, eyes widening and brows raising to express surprise before he grins brightly at the girl. "Wow~~ These are beautiful, (y/n)! I still can't believe how fast you made these! They're perfect!"

"Thank youuuuu!!" She elongates her word, emphasizing her gratitude towards him for complimenting her works before she looks up at him curiously. "Which one do you like most?"

Jake gazes down affectionately into her expectant eyes, chuckling at how purely ebullient she is and hums thoughtfully with narrowed eyes shifted towards the choices of handiwork. "I like that one."

He points to one in beige with dark green-stemmed yellow tulips adorning its circular shape and (y/n) gives him the piece before choosing another with the same design but different coloured tulips to match with his.

"We have matching ones!" She chirps, holding hers next to his before she goes to find the other members to gift the remaining coasters.

Jake smiles warmly at her furthering back before at the soft material in his hand. Ever since then, he's left the coaster on the table and uses it whenever he has a beverage. A hot drink, cold drink, bottled, canned or boba— uses it for every type.

If he finds another member using it, he won't hesitate to just snatch it before putting it under his drink aka. 'its rightful place,' as Jake calls it. As the collection grows, so does his greed. He is not sharing.

giving his arm/hand (p.sh)

(y/n) crochets, paints, does diamond art, basically all that artsy d.i.y stuff. And sometimes, she needs extra hands to keep things steady— and somehow, Sunghoon's always there.

"Can you hold this for me?" She asks Sunghoon to hold her crochet hook while she tries to untangle the knot in her thread. He holds it, and very stably too.

She's doing some diamond painting and accidentally knocks her small tray of colourful jewels— Sunghoon already has his hand out, palm facing upright and (y/n) naturally puts her sticky canvas on it like it's a dish, not wanting to accidentally knock it away while picking up a few fallen beads.

They're having a photoshoot and (y/n)'s called onto the set but has a mini fan in her hold— Sunghoon magically appears to take it from her then proceeding to stand obediently at his post, watching her and waiting patiently until she finishes to give her back her stuff.

She's out shopping for clothes and groceries— Sunghoon's there with a shopping basket hanging on one arm and her clothes on the other.

Some even say that Sunghoon's her personal assistant.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[yelenasbraid]

baby bliss — joe burrow

summary — you just had a baby, and you’re pregnant again. it’s safe to say that joe has his concerns.

warnings — fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy, fluff, anxious joe, mentions of sex, panic attack

requested by — anon <3

YOU ALWAYS KNEW you wanted a family. ever since you were in middle school, you knew that you wanted to have kids. you didn’t know who, at that point, would make you a mom, but being a mother was one of your many desires.

so, when you and your husband found out about your first, you were through the roof excited. your dreams of being a mother came true, but not without the long-haul of a 9 month pregnancy. morning sickness got the best of you in the first trimester, not to mention you hated the smell of meat. joe was as supportive as he could be, and he wished he could be there more often than he was.

it got a little better past the first trimester, especially when you found out you were having a little girl. joe was beyond excited, already picking out outfits for his daughter. you always saw joe as a girl dad, and you couldn’t wait to see him finally hold her.

the months drug on, your belly growing more and more swollen by the day. it came to point where you were doing anything to try and get this baby out.

“ok, we’ve tried spicy food, the yoga ball, and exercise. baby girl just won’t budge,” you groaned as you sat on the couch one evening, balancing your food bowl on your belly.

“she’s stubborn like her mama,” joe teased, nudging you with his foot. you gave him a look, which made the blonde next to you giggle.

“hush, burrow. she gets her genes from both of us, not just me,” you chirped as you put another forkful into your mouth.

“you what what we haven’t tried?” joe wiggled his eyebrows at you, making you furrow yours in confusion.

“what?”

“sex,” he answered, rather bluntly of course. he wiggled his eyebrows as you laughed.

“that would be the most unflattering sex we would ever have,” you told him, causing him to then make a face at you.

“there is no such thing as an unflattering angle on you, babe. plus, i put that baby in you, i could be the one to help her out,” he spoke in a sing-song voice. you only laughed, your cheeks heating up to a rose red color.

needless to say you guys did have sex that night, and despite your baby bump, it was still as amazing as it always was. baby girl seemed to agree, and she came not even 24 hours later.

joe sat in the chair across from you, baby girl lyla on his bare chest, watching her sleep. you laid in the hospital bed, barely keeping your eyes open. you watched as your husband cradled his baby girl, his hands engulfing her small frame. he whispered sweet nothings to her, never taking his eyes off of her.

he was so proud of you and he was so in love with his lyla.

—

5 weeks flew by, and you and joe were getting used to having lyla at home. there were many sleepless nights, even if you and joe were on a schedule. in those 5 weeks, lyla grew like a tree, her features developing to look more like her parents. she had joe’s bright blue eyes and your hair color. she was a daddy’s girl, that was for sure.

joe loved being the one to change her and bathe her. he loved spending time with her, making sure she knew she was loved and cared for. you loved watching joe step into the father role, silently vowing to protect his girls for the rest of his life.

it also made you hella horny.

you weren’t supposed to have sex until 6 weeks after giving birth. your hormones were in overdrive, and every single angle of joey made you want to strip him down. which you could do, but realistically you knew where that would lead.

lyla was down for a nap, and you and joe sat on the couch. it was one of those days where your skin was on fire and you desperately needed touch. joe’s hand was on your thigh, rubbing small circles on your skin as a show played on the tv. it made you go absolutely insane. it was only one more week and he’d be all yours. it was just one week, what was it going to do?

“fuck it,” you mumbled, climbing onto joe’s lap. he was shocked, to say the least, but he’s been impatient too. seeing you in mom mode, despite the messy hair and baggy clothes, it just made things worse for him. he’s not been able to have sex with you for 5 weeks, and while he understood why, he just knew that 6th week was going to be the best week of his life. well, one of the best weeks.

your hands went to his cheeks, pressing your lips to his. your house was a mess, but the baby was asleep and you needed joe. his lips moved effortlessly against yours, the need in his bones spilling over into your mouth. his hands settled on your hips, moving up and down your legs and back. he’s missed this, he’s missed you, specifically the taste of you. you got lost in the taste of him and how he touched you, fulfilling the desire that’s been burning through you for the past couple of weeks.

“are we about to do this?” joe asked, pulling away from you for just a second.

“yes, but we need to be fast and quiet,” you told him.

“yes ma’am,”

—

you didn’t regret having sex that day. it felt good, and your needs were fulfilled. what you didn’t expect was to feel nauseous a week later. you didn’t expect to see two more blue lines show up on a pregnancy test. panic settled in, your hands started to shake, and your mind ran a million miles an hour.

what the hell do you tell joe?

you set the stick down, and while you’re excited you’re having baby number 2, you were still anxious. you beat yourself for letting your hormones get the best of you, leading you to enjoy your husband in the most intimate ways.

the door shut downstairs, signaling joe was home. you walked out of the bathroom, grabbed lyla from her crib and walked downstairs. lyla babbled all the way down, not having a clue of what the stick in her mama’s hand meant.

“there’s my pretty girls!” joe grinned as he saw his wife and daughter greet him. he spread his arms out, taking his little girl into his arms. he softly bounced her on his hip, her giggles echoing in his ears. he wrapped you in the hug as well, kissing the top of your head.

“how’re you, mamas?” he asked you, cradling the back of your head with his hand. your heart was beating a million miles an hour, sweat sticking to your forehead.

“i’ve got something for you,” you told him, your voice a little unsteady. his brow furrowed, catching the shakiness of your voice. he gently placed lyla in her play area in the living room, the little girl going straight for her stuffed animals.

“what is it? are you ok?” he asked, his hands ghosting over your body. he was afraid that your premature sex did something, and that maybe you needed to go back to the hospital. he saw you pull out a pregnancy stick, placing it in his hands. two more beautiful lines showed up, informing him he was going to be a dad to two kids.

“wait, really?” he asked, his excitement building.

“yep, it’s why i’ve not been feeling well,” you informed him, stealing a look at your daughter. joe picked you up and hugged you, swaying you from side to side.

“that’s amazing!” he set you down, and as he did, his anxiety settled in. there was a reason why they had you wait 6 weeks until you could have sex. infection, the risk of tearing, the list goes on. your body was put through the wringer with pregnancy and birth, and you were about to do it all over again?

“babe?” you snapped him out of his anxious trance, forcing him to swallow. he couldn’t show you he was scared, not now.

“i’m ok, i promise,” he reassured you. joe knew you’d see through him, you always did, but for right now he didn’t want to bring it up. he gave you another hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. your daughter’s whimpering separated you two, signaling it was time for dinner.

—

the next few days were anxiety-inducing for joe. he went to practice, came home, had dinner with his family, and held his wife at night. but his chest was in a constant state of tension. he woke up every time you shifted, every time you groaned he would be there in and instant, and if you walked funny he would watch you with wide eyes.

you noticed the shift in joe. he seemed on edge, anxious even. you tried talking to him about it, but he brushed it off, telling you that practice was rough. you’ve known him long enough to know that he was lying, but if he didn’t want to talk about it, you weren’t gonna press it.

you walked downstairs one afternoon, empty water bottle in hand, stomach rumbling. you just put lyla down for a nap and wanted to reward yourself with a snack. you were hungry more often with this one, fingers always itching for a snack.

“i swear we’re having a boy this time with how often i’m hungry,” you commented as you walked into the kitchen. you watched joe for a second, your smile faltering as you watched him pace. you knew something was up, his actions the past few days said enough.

“joey? honey?” you walked up to him, stopping him in his tracks. you placed a hand on his arm, stopping him from continuing in his tracks. joe met eyes with you, his chest heaving. his eyes flicked over your body, subconsciously looking for anything that told him you weren’t ok. you seemed ok, you didn’t seem like you were in any obvious pain. his eyes found yours again, but he still had yet to say something.

“what’s wrong?” you asked him, cupping his cheeks with your hands. the feeling of your warm hands on his cheeks momentarily grounded him, but the moment didn’t last long. his breaths quickened and his chest heaving with each attempted inhale. his whole body went rigid, even if you were standing right in front of him, perfectly fine.

“baby, look at me,” you encouraged him, keeping your hands on his cheeks. he tried his hardest to keep his eyes on you, even if all he wanted to was disassociate. he watched as you inhaled, exhaled, and repeated.

“keep breathing with me,” you encouraged him, imitating your breathing. he followed suit, his hands wandering around to find the cool counter, the warmth of your waist, and the softness of your shirt. he honed in on you, taking in the glow of your skin, the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your skin. he grounded himself, resting his forehead against yours.

moments passed, your hands rubbing circles under his eyes, his arms wrapping around your middle. he buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. he felt calmer, especially since his adrenaline was crashing down through the roof. after a few moments, you led him over to the couch, sitting down. he immediately laid against your stomach, wrapping his arms around yours as gently as he could.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you threaded your fingers through his hair, the frosted tips fading into more of his dirty blonde.

“i’m just worried,” he sagged into you, feeling the hangover from the almost-panic attack he had moments ago.

“yeah?”

“i feel like it’s too soon, that we got too excited,” he hummed against you. realistically, he knew you were ok. if you weren’t, it would be more obvious.

“maybe it was, but i’m ok. i feel ok, baby’s ok,” you comforted him, continuing to massage his scalp. he sighed, giving you a gentle squeeze. moments like this were rare with you, especially with a little one, who was sound asleep upstairs.

“i’ve just heard of all the things that could happen,” he continued, closing his eyes. sleep has evaded him just as much as it’s evaded you. any sleep he could get he grabbed, but he knew you were up more than he was.

“i know, and trust me, it scared me too. but we’re ok, i’m ok,” you kissed the top of his head. he accepted your answer, allowing himself to finally relax for the first time in a week. you two were drifting off, eyes almost closing when you heard the whimpers of lyla on the baby monitor. your eyes opened, groans escaping your lips.

“duty calls,” you hummed, shifting, making joe get up off of you. he leaned up and kissed you, softly and briefly.

“i’ll go get her,” he offered, standing up on shaky legs. he was beyond relieved you were ok, that baby #2 was ok. he knew that he should have trusted your instincts and your body, but he was apart of this family too. if anything happened, if you weren’t ok, he’d beat himself up for the rest of his life.

but you were ok, and as he lifted his baby girl into his arms, that reality sunk deep into his chest. he pressed a soft kiss to lyla’s head, fuzzy with hair. he carried her downstairs, forever grateful for the growing family he had.

hehe this was so cute i loved writing it. i hope you enjoyed it anon! it was so much fun and i love dad joe. pls enjoy and feel free to send requests!

tags: @wickedfun9