#if anyone else wants to adopt any of these feel free

[lycapicta]

Siffrin Headcanons bc i cant sleep

As soon as bro said nya in my game he was assigned the required paws and tail

Doesn't unsheath claws unless he's not wearing gloves they dont wanna ruin them :((

Hair does become completely white after a while but he was talked into dyeing it two tone style again since it suits him

Idea stolen from a friend, but I very much like the idea of Siffrin being albino would explain why he's covered up most of the time

He does not tan he burns...

You all know who I am: Siffrin definitely purrs

He continues his touch therapy outside of the loops and is pretty good with it! He does still get spooked sometimes when he's not ready

Still struggles quite a bit with asking for affection or attention (its easier for him to ask for it from Isabeau)

Cried the first time they ate something outside of the loops

Regularly gets combs or brushes from Mira, but he lets Isa do it once in a while bc he gets jealous lol

Sif didn't completely lose his eye but it is dead (i.e. cant cry out of it, cloudy/damaged) he also can't open it fully and usually settles for having it closed

Their eye patch covers it most of the time but in my design his eye scar is star shaped :)

Spoilery headcanons below the cut

Despite Mira’s healing Sif has lots of scars from hurting himself in the final confrontation with his friends

He has a huge star shaped gash on his chest that mimics Loop's, albeit significantly less clean looking

Has small scars on his arms from the self harm event that you can get in act 5 if you interact with the shard of glass (tries to hide them *unsuccessfully* from his family members at first)

Has chronic pain (something i thought of since the pain he goes through for each of his deaths while looping sort of carries over)

They often have spells where they're in too much pain to move or speak. In these cases the family finds an inn or a place to lay low for a while until it passes. He gets lots of pampering and good foods

This is explored in a fic i haven't finished but Mira teaches Siffrin VSL (Vaugardian Sign Language) to help whenever he becomes nonverbal. He uses it regularly but still struggles a lot with matching Vaugardian words to their respective hand signs

Seems to recall more and more things abt his country as he gets older but he never truly remembers everything (Odile writes everything that she can down for him)

I imagine when the party DOES eventually split up Isabeau and Siffrin still travel a lot, but have their own place in Jouvente whenever they need to settle for a while.

Siffrin is excited to see everyone else's hometowns/countries and is always so happy to see everyone again

Siffrin LOVES touch post loops and is usually all over Isabeau (Isa still has not recovered lmao)

For a long time after everything and even recently Siffrin is enamored with the changes in the weather and the seasons (particularly the rain and snow or the rumble of thunder)

The first night that he experienced a storm after the loops he stayed up for a while watching the rain and listening to the thunder (he had to be coaxed to get his butt in bed)

I also headcanon that he enjoys being out in the rain a lot even if he does become a sopping wet cat afterwards

He never truly gets his original hat back and still has remnants of mannerisms he'd done when he had it (trying to pull down on the brim when embarrassed, etc.)

Isa regularly does a bit of maintenance on his cloak to keep it in good condition (no one else is allowed to touch it)

Sif has episodes where he'll stare up at the stars and sob. He's usually inconsolable, and all the others can do is just be there to give him comfort

Whenever Sif has nightmares he has them in that strange shade (red)

[necrotic-nephilim]

ok ok but jayroytim😏

this feels especially funny if brudick happens in the background and oliver hates the fact he's now in-laws with bruce

so i have to regretfully admit i'm not really a fan of JayRoy, or at least i'm not a fan of the popular version of JayRoy. i think JayRoy could work and would be a lot of fun! but i have *zero* interest in New-52!JayRoy (or New-52!Roy in general) or rlly any version of Jason and Roy on the Outlaws together. both bc i'm a pre-Flashpoint stan at heart. usually i can stand newer content for ship fodder but for these two oh man it grinds my gears how badly Roy got fucked over-

BUT BUT. that doesn't mean i think the ship has *no* merit. because Jason and Roy *do* have some fodder in pre-Flashpoint. they meet briefly when Jason is Robin, and then again when Jason is Red Hood during that Outsiders arc where Black Lightning is in prison. so! there's definitely material to work with. especially playing into the more fucked up nature of Roy knowing Jason when he was Robin. i think it's cute if Jason had a childhood crush on Roy. and maybe Roy even thought Jason was kind of cute, a spunky kid with a lot of energy and passion. then with Jason as Red Hood, Roy openly doesn't trust him and doesn't like that they're working with him. Jason is just a run-of-the-mill villain with a nasty kill count. and sure, Roy's got a record of tangling with people more on the villain side of things, but even going near the Red Hood feels like a step too far.

adding Tim to the mix is really fun. bc honestly it gives Roy some kind of a fetish for guys who have been Robin and i find that to be delightful. like, even if Roy just sees Jason as the Red Hood, he can't *quite* let go of the image of Jason as Robin. like it just won't get out of Roy's system ever since Jason came back. i think, if i were to write these three together, i'd have Roy and Tim get together first of all people, just because Roy is trying really hard to stop thinking about Jason as Robin, especially now that Jason is older and a little meaner. he's full of guilt about it, and he can't talk to Dick because he's still not sure where Dick's feelings fall about the whole Jason thing so. he goes to Tim instead, thinking if he fucks a different Robin, maybe he'll get it out of his system. Tim's pretty and he's just old enough that it's not *too* morally questionable for Roy to seek him out. it takes a while for Roy to work up the nerves because he and Tim aren't particularly close, so how do you even approach that conversation to make it look organic. it's awkward and Tim can definitely tell something is up but hey, who's going to say no to Roy Harper offering sex? one of Dick's best friends? especially if we put this right after Kon and Bart's death where Tim is just. sort of lonely and seeking companionship. in some ways,, Roy would remind him of Kon, just a little. that sort of cocky attitude and snarky smile.

i would add Jason in by having JayTim happen alongside RoyTim. it's not like Roy and Tim are serious enough to be exclusive and Tim knows Roy is sleeping around, so Tim ends up in a weird hatefucking situation with Jason, which definitely was not supposed to happen. Jason just has a damning way of getting under Tim's skin and won't stop bothering Tim until he gets some kind of attention from Tim. and somehow Jason is interesting enough for Tim to cave. and he doesn't even think about the two relationships he's balancing until he happens to sleep with Jason after being with Roy the night before and there are still marks all over him and Jason does *not* like sharing. so when he interrogates Tim and gets nothing, he does the reasonable thing of stalking Tim to figure out who it is. and it just happens to be the guy Jason had a crush on as a kid.

i think Roy finding out he tried so hard to avoid Jason that he accidentally ended up with the same fuck buddy as Jason would be the funniest thing in the world. like it's not something he can run from anymore and he has to accept that. he tries to awkwardly ask what Tim even sees in the guy bc well, Jason's a killer and not known for being mentally stable. but he's also the guy who exonerated Black Lightning with no real motive besides just helping out. he's complicated and Roy doesn't know how to react. Tim just sort of shrugs bc how do you even explain Jason Todd and well, one thing leads to another and Tim ends up in the middle of the most emotionally charged threesome he's ever been in. love the idea of Jason and Roy using Tim as a toy while they work out their feelings for each other. to me that's the peak dynamic. Jason and Roy are pissed about liking each other and somehow, Tim got roped into things. their relationship is not healthy or normal whatsoever, but somehow, they end up balancing each other out nicely.

background BruDick is also hilarious tho. bc there is no one who hates Bruce more than Oliver and he'd be so annoyed that not only did Roy get tangled up with the Bats, but now everything is so weird their families are pretty tangled together and Oliver has to deal with Bruce a lot more than he wants to. and he's glaring daggers about it the whole time.

[cbeargyu]

what you want

summary: you and taeyong have been best friends since college, sharing your adult lives side by side—your flower shop, his branding firm, countless shared memories. but as you near your 30s, the yearning to become a mother grows unbearable. during a reunion trip to jeju island, a tipsy conversation turns into something tender, raw, and irreversible. what begins as comfort and shared vulnerability becomes something deeper—intimate confessions, unspoken love, and the beginning of a quiet forever.

pairing: bestfriend taeyong x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn, friends to lovers, emotional smut, soft romance, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, eventual pregnancy.

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex (consensual, emotional context), impregnatio, pregnancy mention, emotional vulnerability, suggestive adult themes (18+), heavy romantic tension with soft resolution.

wc: 4,5K

notes: hi hiiii, okay so i've been dying to read smutty taeyong fics lately and it's been ALMOST impossible to find 😭 like 90% are mxm and there's barely any tae x reader content out there... if anyone has recs pls drop them in the comments ily. alsooo it's probably painfully obvious by now that i'm obsessed with the whole breeding kink + domestic fluff combo BYE that's literally my favorite thing ever 😩🫠💗

you’ve always been close to taeyong.

since college, really—when you met in that ridiculously stuffy marketing class during your second year. he was late that day, hair still damp from a rushed shower, a printed branding portfolio tucked under one arm, and somehow, he still managed to slide into the seat beside you with an easy smile and that soft voice.

you became inseparable after that. group projects, late-night convenience store runs, silent study sessions that turned into hours of talking about everything and nothing. you built a quiet rhythm with him, one that never required a label or explanation.

you opened your flower shop right after graduation. taeyong built his own creative agency, specializing in branding and design—sleek, intentional, always poetic in its aesthetic. you sent him flowers for his launch day; he designed the logo for your storefront for free. "it’s a gift," he said when you tried to pay him, his voice warm over the phone. "besides, i owe you for all the coffee you bought me during thesis week."

now in your late twenties, things feel stable. solid. your dreams are real. you run a blooming business. taeyong’s agency is doing well. life, on the surface, is soft and good. but there’s one thing that sits heavily in your chest.

you want a baby.

you’ve wanted one for years. even when you were young, you imagined yourself as a mother before anything else—before being a florist, a business owner, a woman navigating city streets with earbuds in and a tote bag full of errands. you crave that connection, the physicality of pregnancy, the quiet intimacy of raising someone who came from you.

but dating? nonexistent. your schedule is tight, your circle small, and the men you do meet are more interested in weekend flings than parenting plans. you’ve been obsessively reading about IVF, sperm donors, even traditional remedies your grandmother used to whisper about. you bring it up to taeyong one night, half-laughing as you scroll through forums.

“i don’t know what to do,” you admit, looking over the rim of your mug at him. “i’m not seeing anyone. i don’t want to wait until i’m forty. and i want to carry them. i want to feel them growing inside me.”

taeyong goes quiet.

he doesn’t have the answers, but he listens. tells you that you’d make an amazing mother. suggests maybe you could consider adoption, but you shake your head gently.

“i want to be pregnant,” you whisper. “i want them to be mine from the start.”

he nods.

he doesn’t push.

a few days later, he messages you.

taeyonggie👺 [11:13am]: remember our old classmates? they’re planning a reunion trip to jeju. want to go? they said you’re welcome too.

you hesitate, then say yes. maybe a change of scenery is what you need. something about the sea and the quiet and the way jeju always smells like citrus and wind.

you don’t expect to feel so at ease.

you arrive together, him beside you on the plane, headphones shared between you as you both doze off mid-flight. you’re staying at a cozy hotel not far from the beach—modern but warm, all wood accents and soft lighting.

there’s a mix-up at check-in.

“two rooms for y/n and taeyong?” the clerk asks.

“no, just one,” taeyong corrects, glancing at you. “two beds, please.”

you nod. it’s nothing new. you’ve stayed over at each other’s apartments before. this is the same. right?

your room has two full-size beds, a window view of the ocean, and barely enough space for both your suitcases. you joke about how you’ll end up tripping over each other, and taeyong just grins, tossing his duffel onto the bed by the wall.

the first two days are calm.

nakamoto yuta—now a travel content creator, all sun-kissed skin and open laughter—is the life of the group. seulgi, working as a creative director for a fashion label, is effortlessly elegant, always with a camera around her neck. also in the group: kwon eunbi, a vocal coach; hwang minhyun, managing a production company; kim seolhyun, running a podcast on pop culture; and kim hanbin, now a choreographer.

you spend your days exploring the island.

taeyong helps you pick tangerines from the orchard. you braid small wildflowers into your hair, and he snaps a photo when you’re not looking. he buys you honey ice cream and insists on carrying your bag when your shoulder starts to ache.

it feels like nothing’s changed.

but there’s a moment.

you’re inside the hotel lounge, grabbing drinks. yuta and taeyong sit near the back, shoulders low, conversation soft between them.

“you still in love with her?” yuta asks, voice easy but not teasing.

taeyong chokes on his drink. coughs. blushes.

“no,” he says, eyes flickering. “i mean, not anymore. that was...college. i’m over it.”

yuta raises a brow. “you sure?”

taeyong doesn’t answer right away. his fingers tap against the glass, slow. thoughtful.

“she wants a baby,” he says eventually. “that’s all she talks about now.”

“so give her one,” yuta shrugs.

taeyong laughs quietly. like it’s ridiculous. like it’s tempting.

he doesn’t bring it up again.

but something shifts.

you notice him watching you a little longer than usual when you laugh. his gaze lingers on the curve of your jaw, the line of your collarbone, the way you absentmindedly rest a hand over your stomach when you’re lost in thought.

you don’t say anything either.

you’re still just friends.

sharing a room.

sharing a life.

almost.

dinner that night is golden.

the kind that stretches out with laughter, grilled seafood, tangerine wine, and flickering lanterns strung up between pine trees. the restaurant is open-air, tucked near the cliffside with a view of the ocean glowing beneath the full moon.

everyone's a little tipsy by the time dessert comes around. yuta’s telling stories about backpacking in morocco and the time he accidentally ended up at a wedding. seulgi keeps taking pictures of everyone's reactions, cheeks flushed from wine. hanbin and seolhyun are arguing about the best era of k-pop choreography. eunbi sings a soft verse of something nostalgic, and minhyun smiles so softly you wonder if he's thinking of someone he left behind.

taeyong is beside you. always beside you. refilling your glass with something citrusy. resting his arm along the back of your chair. letting his knee bump into yours and not pulling away. the heat from him is steady. familiar. almost too much.

later, the drinks keep flowing back at the hotel. minhyun brings out a bottle of plum soju he brought from seoul, and that’s when it really starts. shots. dares. flushed cheeks and slurred memories.

you’re warm. glowing. a little too honest.

“i mean it,” you say, your voice low, shoulders loose as you sit with taeyong on the floor by the balcony door, away from the noise. “i think about it every night. sometimes i dream about it.”

he looks at you, gentle. “dream about what?”

you lean your head against the windowpane, watching the wind rustle the curtain.

“having a baby,” you murmur. “being pregnant. the little kicks. the soft cries. the weight of them on my chest. it’s so clear in my mind. like… i can almost feel it already.”

taeyong swallows.

you’re drunk. not sloppy, just vulnerable in a way you rarely let yourself be.

“i’ve tried not to obsess over it,” you continue, voice quieter now. “but it’s hard. i want it so much. and i know it’s selfish to want the whole experience—the belly, the pain, the birth. i just… i don’t want to feel like i missed it, like i missed the chance to be the kind of mother i’ve always seen myself becoming.”

taeyong doesn’t know what to say. you can feel it in the silence. his fingers curl slightly, brushing the edge of your sweater.

“you’d be such a good dad, you know,” you say suddenly, eyes half-lidded, smiling gently now as the alcohol softens your words. “like… annoyingly good.”

taeyong blinks.

“you’d be the kind that warms up the milk just right. that kisses tiny foreheads. that always carries extra snacks. that reads the bedtime story even when he’s tired. you'd probably cry when they take their first step.”

he laughs under his breath, a little shaky. your words are melting something in him.

“and your baby would have your eyes,” you add, like it’s nothing. “those pretty lashes. and maybe your laugh. and you’d panic the first time they got sick. and hold them all night until they stopped crying.”

he’s staring at you now. full-on. wide-eyed, a little undone.

“you’d be so gentle,” you whisper. “you already are.”

taeyong shifts. swallows again. his voice is rough when he finally speaks. “don’t say that.”

you tilt your head, confused. “why not? it’s true.”

“because,” he breathes, gaze flicking down to your lips for half a second before pulling back to the ceiling. “you’re drunk. and i’m trying really hard not to do something i’ll regret.”

you blink slowly, the alcohol making everything feel suspended.

you’re suddenly aware of how close you are. how intimate this has always been. not the words. not the night. just you and him.

taeyong stands. runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“i’m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, stepping away from the room.

you stay behind, heartbeat thudding, his warmth still lingering beside you.

you meant every word.

but you don’t know if he’ll ever believe that.

taeyong returns to the table with your glass of water clutched between his fingers like it’s something to hold himself together. his pulse is still uneven, the weight of your words clinging to him like sea salt in the air—soft but undeniable.

you’re laughing at something when he returns. yuta’s grinning, telling a story about a disastrous photoshoot in cambodia that involved a monkey, a drone, and his own foolish confidence. your cheeks are still flushed, but your expression dims a little when your eyes catch his, like you can feel the shift. like you remember what you said.

taeyong sets the glass in front of you gently, and you whisper a quiet “thanks” without looking up.

he doesn’t sit down again. instead, he hovers, letting the chatter of the group wash over him, standing on the edge of it all. seulgi pulls hanbin into a debate about concept staging in idol tours, seolhyun’s already half-asleep on the couch, and minhyun is texting someone with a small smile. the night has thinned out. the fire outside has died, leaving only the dim golden lights strung overhead and the soft hum of a playlist playing someone’s nostalgic mix of late 2010s ballads.

by the time the clock hits nearly two in the morning, someone mumbles about calling it a night.

you blink blearily, your words slurring just a bit now, your weight leaning more and more toward the backrest of the couch. taeyong’s already there before anyone else moves, slipping a hand beneath your elbow and helping you to your feet like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“come on,” he says quietly, warm breath by your temple. “let’s get you to bed.”

you nod sleepily, your body soft, trusting. your fingers find the edge of his jacket sleeve as he steadies you, and he doesn’t pull away. the walk to the room is silent, the hallways dim and muffled. your steps are clumsy, and he catches you more than once, his hand curling around your waist like second nature.

inside the room, it’s dim and warm. the faint scent of saltwater and clean cotton lingers in the air from earlier. you collapse on the edge of the bed you claimed the night before, one of two queen mattresses sitting side by side with a single nightstand in between. the tension returns with the silence, thick and cloying. he walks to the dresser and grabs a bottle of water, offering it to you.

you drink half of it. then sit there. watching him.

he avoids your gaze at first. fiddles with the hem of his shirt. looks out the window like he might say something—then stops himself.

but you’re still drunk. and honest. and maybe a little bold in the way you never let yourself be.

“you know,” you start, voice quiet, “i wasn’t drunk when i said you’d make a good dad.”

taeyong turns slowly. you meet his eyes.

you swallow thickly, fingers wringing the edge of your pajama top. “i’ve thought about it before.”

he blinks, lips parting like he wants to ask but isn’t sure if he should.

you continue.

"not just in the abstract. not just... you as someone’s dad. but you as my—" you stop, heat blooming up your neck. you exhale. “sometimes, i think about what it’d be like if you were the one.”

he says nothing, but his expression crumbles—something tender and wounded flickering behind his eyes.

“i mean, we’ve been in each other’s lives forever,” you say, softer now. “we grew up together in every way that matters. you’ve seen me fail and get back up and fall apart again. you’ve never walked away. not once. not even when i was unbearable. i trust you with everything. i always have.”

taeyong doesn’t breathe.

you keep going.

“so yeah. i think about it sometimes. about what it’d be like to have your kid. to raise them with you. to wake up to you and a messy little human with sleepy eyes and your stupid laugh. and maybe i’m insane, maybe it’s just my hormones or my loneliness or whatever—but the thought doesn’t scare me. it grounds me.”

you laugh, a little bitterly, wiping at the corner of your eye. “and that’s the worst part. because i know you don’t see me that way. or if you did once, it’s long gone. and i shouldn’t be saying this—i know that. but there’s something about tonight that makes me feel like i’ll burst if i don’t.”

taeyong moves before you can finish.

quiet. careful.

he kneels in front of you. not touching you. not yet. just there, looking up at you like he’s memorizing every curve of your face.

his voice is raw.

“don’t say i don’t see you.”

you meet his eyes.

“i’ve always seen you.”

your breath hitches.

taeyong lets out a quiet, shaky laugh. “you talk about me being a dad like i wouldn’t spend every second wondering how the hell i got so lucky to build a life with you. like i haven’t already imagined it too. maybe not with words. maybe not out loud. but… i have.”

you whisper, “you have?”

he nods.

“every time you smile like that. every time you bring me coffee with your name scribbled next to mine. every time you hug me like home. yes. i have.”

you don’t move.

he reaches for your hand—slow, reverent, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“but i never let myself say it,” he murmurs. “because i didn’t want to mess this up. not with us. not with you. and definitely not like this. but if i’m being honest… the thought of you carrying my child?” he swallows. “that doesn’t scare me either.”

the room is silent.

you stare at him, your fingers trembling in his grip.

you whisper, “then kiss me.”

he does.

not rushed. not heated.

just true.

the kind of kiss that feels like coming home after years of wandering.

like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t crazy after all.

the kiss deepens slowly.

taeyong’s hands are warm on your cheeks, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. you melt under his touch, your fingers sliding up his neck, into his hair, pulling him closer, closer still—like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you let go.

he’s the one who gasps first when your lips part just enough to whisper his name. it falls from your mouth like a secret you’ve kept buried for too long, and he swallows it whole.

he pulls back slightly, forehead resting against yours, his thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. you can feel his heart racing beneath his shirt.

“y/n…” his voice is hoarse. “are you sure?”

you nod, soft and breathless. “i’ve never been more sure.”

and there’s something in your voice—something so certain, so full of quiet longing—that makes taeyong inhale like he’s taking you in for the first time.

his lips find yours again, slower now, more deliberate. his touch trails from your face to your waist, pulling you gently into his lap, like he needs you close enough to feel everything—the way your body trembles against his, the way your thighs tighten around his hips, the way your breath stutters when his mouth moves down your neck.

he tastes your skin like a prayer, like something he’s dreamt about in the quiet hours of the night when your voice was the only thing that could calm him down.

you whisper into the space between kisses, into the curve of his jaw, “i want it to be you.”

his breath hitches.

“i want your baby,” you murmur, your hand pressing over his chest, right where his heart is pounding. “i want to carry your child. someone small and perfect and warm, someone who has your eyes… your smile.”

taeyong lets out the softest sound, almost like a whimper, and you feel his fingers tighten on your hips, his body tensing like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you lean into his ear and say it again—this time slower, your voice shaking. “i want your baby inside me, tae.”

his hands slide up your sides, under your shirt, reverent and gentle. “god,” he breathes. “you have no idea what that does to me.”

“tell me.”

he leans back just enough to look at you—really look at you. his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and parted.

“i think about it all the time,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “what you’d look like with my baby growing inside you. your belly round and soft, your body glowing. coming home to you with your shirt stretched over the bump, your hands cradling it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

he presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another, lower. “i want to see you like that. i want to wake up and run my hands over your belly, feel it kick. talk to it. kiss it.”

you whimper, your fingers knotting in his hair. “tae…”

his hands slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, thumbs brushing over your hipbones like they belong there. “i want to fill you up,” he murmurs, voice thick and trembling. “not just for tonight. not just for the fantasy. i want this to meansomething. it does mean something.”

you nod, cupping his face. “i know. it does to me too.”

he kisses you again, deeper now, one hand at the small of your back, guiding you down onto the mattress. the room is quiet, lit only by the moonlight spilling through the window, and everything feels soft. intimate. warm.

he undresses you slowly, carefully, as if every piece of clothing he removes reveals another piece of your heart. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer until there’s no space between you, nothing but breath and bare skin and whispered names.

when he enters you, it’s slow and deep, like he’s savoring every inch, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him. your back arches, and he moans into your neck, your name a broken sound on his lips.

you’re both trembling—emotion thick in your chests, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. because it’s not just sex. not just lust. it’s home. it’s years of friendship and quiet yearning finally coming undone in the safest way possible.

taeyong presses a kiss to your temple and whispers, “you’re perfect. you’re mine.”

you cradle his face in your hands, smiling through the tears. “give me everything, tae. i want to feel you. all of you. i want to feel you stay.”

his rhythm falters, just for a second, overcome by the weight of it all. “i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you a family.”

you tighten around him at the words, gasping.

“i want to make you a mom,” he whispers. “tonight.”

you nod frantically, lips parting, “do it. please. i want to feel it—i want to feel you—when you fill me.”

taeyong groans, hips stuttering, burying his face in your neck. “fuck. y/n…”

you whisper, “put a baby in me, tae.”

he thrusts deeper, harder now, the restraint beginning to crumble. your bodies are slick with sweat, moving together with a kind of desperation that feels like both a beginning and a promise.

when he finishes—inside, just like you wanted—it’s with a gasp, his arms locked around you tight, like he’s scared to let go. and for a long moment, neither of you move.

“i want you full of me,” he says against your mouth, already hardening again. “i want to make sure.”

you nod, dazed. open. warm.

“don’t stop,” you whisper. “please don’t stop.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you over and over again, slow and focused, like each time is another chance to seal your wish into reality. sometimes he holds your hips, watching your face as you fall apart for him. other times he lays you on your side, kissing your shoulder while whispering how beautiful you are, how perfect you’d be with his child inside you.

when dawn breaks, you’re tangled together in silence. your body aches, sweet and sated. your thighs sticky, your heart full. his hand rests on your stomach again, like he’s already waiting.

he is groaning your name, whispering over and over, “mine. you’re mine. our baby. our future.”

you’re crying. he is too.

and when the trembling stops and the world is still again, he kisses your lips, then your cheeks, then your stomach.

“i can’t wait to see you grow,” he whispers, resting his head just below your ribs.

you run your fingers through his hair, heart pounding.

you whisper back, “i hope it has your eyes.”

the sunlight pours through the thin curtains like a slow, golden confession. the air smells like salt and lemon shampoo. taeyong wakes up first this time, his arm heavy over your waist, your back pressed flush against his chest. sunlight filters through the cream-colored curtains, warming the bare skin of your shoulder.

it kisses your bare shoulder first, then the soft curve of your waist, then the scattered marks taeyong left across your chest like constellations only he could read.

you’re the first to stir, eyelids fluttering open to the unfamiliar ceiling of the hotel room. for a second, you forget where you are. but then you shift slightly and feel the weight of an arm draped across your stomach, the steady rise and fall of a chest pressed into your back, and the unmistakable warmth of taeyong’s body, still wrapped around you like a second skin.

his breath ghosts against your nape, slow and deep, and you realize he hasn’t let go of you all night. not once.

you smile.

when you turn your head just enough to see his face, it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. he’s peaceful like this—softer, younger somehow. his lashes rest against his cheeks, and his mouth is parted slightly, lips still swollen from all the kisses you gave him. his hand, large and warm, is splayed gently across your lower belly, protective and possessive in the same breath.

you reach down and lace your fingers with his.

as if he feels it, he stirs, humming sleepily against your skin. his nose nuzzles into your shoulder. “mmm… morning,” he mumbles, voice thick and low, still soaked in sleep.

you twist around slowly in his hold so you’re facing him. he blinks a few times, eyes still heavy, but when they focus on you, they soften in that way they always have—like you’re the center of his world and he’s been waiting all night just to see you again.

“you stayed,” you whisper, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

he smiles lazily, eyes fluttering shut again. “of course i did. where else would i go?”

you tuck yourself into his chest, your nose against his collarbone. “you feel so warm…”

his arms tighten around you instantly, drawing you closer until there’s no space between you. “you kept me warm first,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “i didn’t want to let go.”

you stay like that for a while. breathing together. existing.

and then you feel him shift, one hand still resting over your belly, thumb drawing lazy, absent-minded circles over the skin there. he hums, low in his throat. “do you think… do you think it worked?”

your breath catches.

you look up at him, searching his face. he’s watching you carefully now, no longer groggy, eyes wide open and impossibly tender.

“i don’t know,” you whisper. “maybe.”

he leans in, kisses your forehead. then your temple. then the spot just below your eye. “i kind of hope it did.”

you feel your throat tighten with emotion.

“you do?”

“mmhm,” he nods, nudging his nose against yours. “i kept thinking about it last night… the way you’d look months from now. the way i’d get to take care of you. rub your back. cook for you. kiss your belly every morning.”

you let out a small laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’d be so annoying,” you murmur. “always crying. craving weird stuff. complaining about everything.”

he smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you’d be perfect. i’d love you more every day. and our baby… our baby would be lucky.”

you bury your face in his chest, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it. the certainty.

he strokes your back gently. “and if it didn’t happen this time… we try again,” he says softly. “no rush. no pressure. just us. just love.”

you pull back, tearful and smiling all at once. “you want to try again already?”

he grins, lips brushing your cheek. “i want to make love to you every morning for the rest of my life. but yes… also for the baby.”

you laugh, breathless, and he kisses the sound right out of you.

his hands start to wander again—slow, exploring, remembering. he murmurs against your lips, “can i stay inside you today too? just like this… all day?”

you nod, whispering, “don’t leave me empty.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you again—this time slow and languid, under the weight of sunlight and morning warmth. he kisses your face like you’re already glowing. like you’re already carrying a part of him.

when he comes again, deep inside you, he doesn’t look away. he holds you through it. kisses your tears. whispers your name like a promise.

afterward, he pulls the blanket over your bodies, still tangled. still joined. he keeps his hand on your belly, and you both stay quiet, smiling softly.

as if the future is already there.

[camerahaterlittle]

We're from the same pack but from rivaling herds | Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia has never been a good mother to you and finally you snap and she finally realizes her mistake as a mother

Warnings: Bad writing grammer and mentions of purposeful self harm Alexia's a bad guy here yall if this seems like something that you wouldn't enjoy please don't read

Part two

Ever since Alexia was pregnant with you, she never really thought about the future and whether you'd take on her legacy and continue to play football with your name of the back of the jersey even when you were born she never felt that connection that her mother told her she would feel with you she was just numb she didn't necessarily like you but she loved you.

Whether that was because she felt like she had to or because she actually did was always unclear to her and only her because she never told anyone how she actually felt about having you but deep down she knew that she didn't want you by any means in her kind she was young in love and free.

You always thought that's why you always sat alone at the dinner table eating dinner with one of Alexia's old jerseys on one of the chairs stretched out so it'd fit there pretending it was her when you were only 5 years old with whatever interview you could find of her playing in the background while Alba slept on the couch.

Ever since those days you swore, you wouldn't let your mother hurt you any longer, yet it didn't work all that well since you always bit back your words every time you were talking to her (it was really arguments) and those talks always left you in tears at a random gym taking your pain out on a punching back was your form correct no not at all your fists always hurt in the first ten minutes because you didn't wrap your hands right but in some way you enjoyed the pain since it took your mind off everything else.

Boxing was your thing it let you relieve whatever emotions you were feeling without any form of consequence if you didn't count the fact your knuckles would be killing you after the session with barely any breaks boxing was more of your thing than football ever was and maybe that's why you and your mother got pushed further away there wasn't anything you could bond over since your hate for football from when you were 5 stayed all the way until now.

And that was why to your self adopted coach, said you were the best fighter in Spain, at least that's what he told you that you could be if you let him help you and get you to that point you only nodded barely listening to the guy only 'agreeing' because you wanted to get back to hitting the bag like it offended you in some way.

Did Alexia know about your fighting? No, she didn't. No one really knew if you didn't count Ingrid and Mapi in that statement because they knew everything, yet you made them promise not to say anything or do anything when you broke down in front of them spilling everything that's been happening.

The couple had become your anchor through everything they were the only thing holding you above the crashing water, keeping you a float helping you swim through everything you knew you could always count on them no matter the situation they were always there and that was something you'd never take for granted since you never got that much growing up.

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

You looked around, trying to spot Mapi and Ingrid in the small crowd of people. After your fight, you ended up winning, which wasn't a surprise to your coach or any of the small number of fans you had since you normally won every fight of yours with barely any struggle.

But to your surprise, when you finally found the couple, you saw Alexia standing right next to them, a small frown on her face with her arms crossed against her chest. Your expression hardened immediately. Your jaw clenched as you took off your gloves so you could finally wipe the sweat and blood off your face.

You were zoned out the entire conversation with your coach, only humming or mumbling a small okay in response to whatever he was saying the moment he was finished talking to you, you were out of the ring walking over to Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia the couple pulling you into their arms like they were trying to shield you away from Alexia's gaze.

"You did amazing out there cariño best fight I ever saw." Mapi murmured in your ear as she held you closer to her as Ingrid started a somewhat friendly conversation with Alexia, trying to get her attention off of you and Mapi.

You had the smallest smile on your face from her praise as your arms slightly tightened around her, enjoying the warmth and love you got from the fellow Spaniard. "Thank you, Maps," you said quietly, a small shiver going down your spine when her hand started to scratch at your scalp, ignoring the way the slightly wet strands felt against her fingertips.

Mapi looked up and away from you when Alexia cleared her throat, rolling her eyes at the sight of you and her best friend together. Mapi slowly pulled you out of her arms so you could actually see your mother, yet you stayed close to one of your favorite people, not like the arm Mapi still had around you was gonna let you go anywhere at all.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were boxing now, huh?" Alexia spoke her tone sharp and calculated just like it always was when she spoke to you. Mapi, in response to Alexia's words, pulled you a bit closer to you, offering you a silent comfort from Alexia's coldness.

"I didn't think it was such a big deal it's just a hobby." Your words came out quiet less harsh than Alexia's the somewhat happiness you felt from before vanishing as she continued. You knew she wouldn't drop this topic even if you just wished she would.

"Just a hobby, then explain why you've been doing this for the past year. If it's just a hobby, why are you continuing this Y/n." Alexia stepped closer to you, her frame towering over yours the moment the Norwegian who was standing on the side saw this she came between the two of you immediately something that surprised Alexia since Ingrid wasn't one for getting in between things often.

"Why don't you leave Alexia she will be home later on in the night. I think you need to cool down some, and then you guys can talk." Ingrid's words were sharp and calculated as she chose her words wisely, stopping whatever possible fight that could've been caused because of this.

You let out a sigh of relief Ingrid's words acting as a life jacket in the horrible waves of the sea keeping you above the water. Mapi pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as she walked away with you, leaving the Norwegian to deal with whatever Alexia could possibly say in response to things.

"She needs to come home now. Engen, there's conversations that we have to have." Alexia's expression hardened as she stared at her teammate, wondering why she was stopping her from getting her child and bringing her home to have a conversation.

"And that's not happening, not right now, Alexia she's not coming home until she's ready to talk to you, and until then, she will be staying with me and Mapi she is safe with us for the time being" Ingrid responded her own expression hardening the longer she stayed with Alexia she knew no conversation would be had it would be one sided the Spaniard in front of her being the only one who spoke while you sat in silence.

Alexia scoffed, shaking her head she had a feeling no matter what she said. Ingrid wouldn't let her take you home, so she left it at that, muttering something in Spainsh that the Norwegian couldn't quite catch in the moment.

Ingrid watched Alexia walk away, making sure she actually left before going to find you and Mapi finding the two of you in the back room of this gym you ended up fighting in a soft smile appearing on hee face as she saw you and Mapi messing around while talking she partly knew that her girlfriend was only doing this to distract you from what had just happened and it was clearly working.

The midfielder eventually walked over to the two of you, interrupting the mini fight/conversation you two were having "Alright you two, we've got to go home and get some food in our stomachs." Both you and Mapi turned, hearing the Ingrid's words pouting a bit since what you two were planning was interrupted but compiled anyways."Yes, mom." "Aye Aye, captain." Came from the both of you, Ingrid chuckling in response as the three of you left ready to get home.

All three of you hopped into the car, buckling yourselves in the car windows immediately being put down some the drive to your favorite restaurant being made while you got the aux cord and you took full control over that playing every Frozen song since in your words "It's not my fault it has one of the best soundtracks" which only resulted in groans.

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

By the time you walked into the house, you saw Alexia on the couch it had only been a couple hours since you last saw her, and you felt your heart clench at the sight of her sitting there zoned out to the point she didn't even notice walking inside the house.

You sighed, walking into the kitchen, grabbing an energy drink, cracking it open, taking a long sip from it. You heard Alexia getting up, making out the sounds of her clothes russling as she made her way into the kitchen after her gaze felt weird like she was staring straight through you or something and you most definitely didn't like that at all.

"Y/n, we need to talk about things." Alexia's tone was for once surprisingly softer than it normally was when she was talking to you, and that threw you off guard.

"You mean you're gonna talk, and I have to listen." Your tone was sharp just like hers was earlier at your fight, and yet instead of you being caught off guard, it was Alexia she never heard you take that tone with her once in her life.

"And quite frankly, I'm tired of listening to you talk and you expecting me to just take it and listen." You continued not giving her a chance to speak you were tired of listening and that was clear.

You took another swig from your drink, not daring to face her because you knew if you did, you'd crumble and wouldn't get everything you felt off of your chest nothing you were thinking in this moment was making sense and that meant everything came out oddly not making much sense but you knew Alexia was smart enough to get the point.

"I know i wasn't ever your baby and that I was only a maybe to you, and it took me forever to accept that hell I don't think I've even accepted it now I think I'm just okay with it now even if it hurts because my own mother doesn't care unless it affects her and even then you couldn't care less." You wiped the tears that were already falling. You expected that you wouldn't be able to hold yourself together during this. What made you say all of this to her was unknown. Maybe it was the softness in her tone, or maybe you were done with everything.

"I only wanted to feel loved by you, but you didn't even give me that all I got was you talking and ignoring what I had to say I got your jerseys on chairs in the kitchen because you were too busy to come home I sat alone pretending you were there with an interview of you playing wishing you'd care or love me just as much as you love football no five year old should have to do that." You could hear your words coming out shaky as you spoke, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You glanced at Alexia seeing her standing there tears in her eyes but you didn't care not when she was your first heartbreak.

"I just want you to love me as much as you love Pina or Vicky. I'm your actual daughter, and yet they somehow get more love and attention from you. I tried everything to get your attention, and yet I still couldn't get it. I wanted your attention good or bad." You took a shaky deep breath, putting your drink down on the counter rubbing your face, trying to get rid of the tears that were freely falling.

"But I didn't ever get that from you. I got it from Mapi and Ingrid. I got it from Alba and Jenni, but never you, the one person's love and attention i wanted i didn't get ever and I don't think you know how much that shaped me as a person." You turned around facing her. You could see she was going through every emotion possible as you continued.

"I don't need it now anymore, but she needed it she needed it more than me. I've grown to accept what you've done, but she hasn't she's still wondering what made you not love her as much as you loved everyone else." Alexia felt her heart break at your words she knew exactly what you meant by she without you even saying it, and it hurt her more than she ever thought.

You picked up your can once again, downing the rest of it before setting it back on the counter just staring into her eyes. Both of your eyes were red, tears staining your cheeks, and in that moment, it really felt like you were looking into a mirror staring back at yourself when, in all reality, it was just two hurt people one hurting more than the other.

You stood there like there for a few more moments, looking away from her as your lip trembled a bit. You just wanted Alexia to answer one question, and one only but you knew the answer would probably break you even more. "Did you ever actually love me? Did you ever even want me?".

You waited for her to respond, and it took her minutes to respond, but when she finally did, your heart broke even more just like you expected. "I don't know. I wish I had a better answer." Alexia was ashamed of herself for the way everything turned out for the way she treated her own daughter.

You nodded, walking over to the door and leaving the house without another word for once it was pouring outside. You wanted to turn around and go back inside the house, but you didn't. You kept walking without a set place in your mind on where to go.

Alexia watched you leave her heartbreaking even more. If that was even possible, she walked over to the couch sitting down head in her hands as she cried, wondering what had happened to make this turn out this way even if she knew the answer deep down.

It had been more than an hour since you left, and Alexia was still crying over everything, her heart aching in a way she didn't know was possible she picked up her phone when it started to ring answering it waiting to see who it was.

"Hello, is this Alexia Putellas" A man's voice spoke his voice ringing through Alexia's ears.

"Yes, this is her. What's this call for." Alexia thought this was just another photoshot guy or anything of that sort but she couldn't have been anymore wrong.

"I'm sorry to inform you, but your daughter Y/n is currently in the hospital in critical condition." The man responded, but he didn't get a response. The call ended immediately as Alexia jumped up, grabbing her keys and leaving her phone behind as she ran out the door, getting in her car driving to the nearest hospital breaking all kinds of laws just to get there.

Okay, I feel like this is incredibly short, but enjoy this while I work on other requests

[duckdotimg]

Said I would post them eventually, and here they are... my for-fun redesigns of the main Replikas with see in game, Elster and Ariane being the primary focus of course

If you are curious about my general thoughts and on why I did this fun little thing, and my personal criteria doing it, feel free to read below!

Let me just say that I love Signalis to bits. It has a beautiful, heart-wrenching story. But - and this is just my personal opinion, and without any animosity truly - the style of the cutscenes (not the 3D in-game style or the models) is not my cup of tea. It's just my taste. My personal style just cannot accomodate that kind of stylization anymore, and even if I tried I couldn't draw the replikas as they are in game for the life of me. That said it's still a beautiful game. So if I draw more fanart (which is likely), I will probably use these designs.

Analyzing the approach I took when doing these redesigns:

I wanted the Replikas to have a clear correlation between each other, while still being unique in small ways besides hair, body and armor. This resulted in trying to instill diversity in their faces by making their noses reminisce the beaks of the birds they are named after.

All of the replikas, as you may notice, have much more practical hair. No bangs in front of the face anymore. Personally I think Elster, Starling, and Ara units especially should not have bangs - because of the kind of tasks they are committed to by design. It could hinder their efficiency in carrying out their work - so, no bangs for anyone.

I have given them all top surgery (joke). No faux-boobs except the Eule. The reasoning is the same as above: they are simply not practical! The only exception are the Eule, because...

...I am bad at wording things but to me it's because Eule in concept are supposed to evoke also, besides other things, a 'feminine' gender normativity with them being the main workforce of the Nation but also cooks, teachers, etc (jobs that in our real world, for many years, were relegated to 'only women'). This also reflects to how I have given Eule shinier lips, a fuck-ass bob (middle part to evoke the shape owls have) and (optional) eye make-up.

On a cosmetic note, Stars have white hair tips as a way to more directly pay homage to their avian namesake. And it looks cooler (imo).

Storches and Kolibri have eye make-up/"war paint" and they're meant both to evoke a further feeling of authoritarianism and to intimidate other replikas or gestalts into complying with their orders. For Storches I was inspired particularly by the face make-up used in a certain scene in Suspiria (the 2018 Guadagnino reimagining), and not just for cosmetic reasons! Kolibri's are more generally inspired by the hummingbird's actual appearance.

Ara's grease marks are reminiscent of the pattern usually found on macaws' faces! Not all of the Ara's dirt looks this precise, but well, I thought it would be a fun touch.

Noted before in my previous fanart posts but Ariane is decidedly more sickly-looking but with an extra step. While Elster loves Ariane very much no matter how she looks, I think before the ending of the game she still has an 'idealized' version of her in her mind, albeit still a sick-looking one: long haired Ariane. In my idea the further you get to the end of the game, the more Ariane in the flashback flashes looks how she actually is - hairless, with missing teeth, and extremely irradiated.

Are these like, headcanons I think everyone should adopt when drawing replika and/or ariane...Honestly no idgaf... Just do what you want... I just liked coming up with these and wanted to explain my thoughts. Again I love Signalis and regardless what I think or not of the official style of it, love is love. What else is there to say about it. You should draw these fucked up lesbians however the hell you want which includes meeee and I'm exercising the right to do so

Maybe I'll also draw Adler, Falke and Mynah in the future but they're not here because by principle there is not much I would change about their designs. I have a vision for Falke which is not as drastic as these I drew for now. For sure I'll eventually draw my own ideas for the other gestalts in the story, but I'm gonna take a break and go back to OC stuff now 👍

If you read till here you are nuts and I love you. Let's all get ice cream together

[takethelongroadhome]

the thing that (imo) no one is acknowledging about astarion is that shame is a huge part of his psyche. just as much as (arguably more than) fear--an important aspect of his fear is that he fears becoming the person he was so ashamed of again.

most of the abuse he's implied to have experienced from cazador is so extremely degrading and humiliating that it's almost unimaginable. his siblings describe him as especially likely to fawn and submit for safety. leon goes out of his way to mock him for being cazador's "favorite," whatever the hell that means.

when he meets the 7,000 spawn for the first time, he's not just willing to sacrifice them for the ritual, he wants them to die--he hates them in a very visceral, personal way. the pity and guilt he feels for them is drowned out by his contempt-- they're "pathetic, horrible." if you call him out on the fact that they clearly remind him of himself, he absolutely flips out and says he killed that version of himself. he not only is willing to trick and kill his siblings, he not only thinks they deserve that, he is surprised that you feel differently. he was one of them barely a month ago! he knows that!

shame -> contempt sublimation is very real. when you hate yourself for what was done to you, it's barely a leap to begin hating others for what is done to them (I mean, he says outright that he doesn't want to help the gnome slaves in grymforge because they're depressing). he hates the person he was forced to become under cazador--the person who simpered and played along with the man systematically torturing him for his own gratification, who had to abandon all self-respect and dignity for survival, and so he draws a sharp distinction between past-astarion and free-astarion and is obsessed with separating himself from any trace of the former. anyone who's a victim like past-astarion gets hit with the full force of his contempt and disgust. free-astarion is good and worthy because he is no longer like those pathetic victims, and is free to look down on them all from his tadpole-enabled throne!

it's to the point where he actively gets joy out of seeing victims brutalized, because he's had to adopt cazador's worldview over the 200 years he spent trying to appease his every whim. (as much as he hates cazador, he also clearly "looks up" to him--he hypes him up as a threat like he's in a powerscaling argument with you. he has to! how else would he have survived?) you are either the powerful and dignified victimizer or the pathetic victim, and for once he gets to be in cazador's position, relishing the just punishment of the weak for being weak. he has no other model for what dignity can look like beyond this victimizer/victim dichotomy. if he wants basic self-respect, he thinks he has to be like this.

this isn't a good worldview, both in the moral sense and in the qualitative sense. it's miserable. astarion will never actually be able to achieve peace or happiness like this. no amount of power will satisfy his sense of shame--it certainly didn't for cazador! what he needs is to feel real compassion for other people and for his past self--not anger, not grievance, not bitterness, but actual compassion. that's part of why you get approval for talking him out of ascending--he may truly, desperately want to ascend, because everything he believes about the world is telling him that the 7,000 spawn deserve it and it's the only way for him to become worthy and whole and dignified, but even more than that, he wants someone to convince him that he's wrong.

obviously this isn't, like, the only factor at play in his head. he contains multitudes! but I do think it's an important one

[angelltheninth]

HELLOOOO GOOD MORNNNNNN (even if its prolly not morning there) huge fan, love your hoyo posts LOVE UR WRITING IN GENERAL!!!!!!!! feel free to ignore if ur not taking any reqs rn but i wanted to know your take on the batboys having a meet-cute with their s/o!!! hope u have a good day btw 🫶

I'm so glad you enjoy my writing. Really makes my day.

Pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne x Reader

Tags: fluff, meet-cute, flirting, difference of opinion, banter, dancing, pets

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I thought it would be funny to give them something more normal rather than the regula superhero things.

DICK GRAYSON

You meet him at the local dog shelter. Both of you want to adopt the same dog and neither of you want to back off. Dick is pretty well built and argues that he would take the dog out on walks a lot more than you, but on the other hand you live in a bigger house with a backyard so the dog wouldn't need to be cooped up in an apartment while Dick does, whatever he does for a living. When you hear he already has one dog you tell him then it's only fair that you get this one. The only way to settle this is to let the dog choose. And the dog chose you, much to your apparent rival's disappointment. Well since you both have a dog now, perhaps luck will have it and you'll meet at the park. He looks like a fun dog dad.

JASON TODD

Jason was someone you saw a few times at the bar that you both frequent. You never approached him before, despite really wanting to, so he approached you first. He called you out on staring at him like some pervert, and if you claim you're not then you should have no problem dancing with him. One dance isn't gonna kill you, or maybe you're a horrible dancer and you're hiding it. Well he might be an asshole, but you're the one who's been eyeing him ever since he stepped into the bar. So he gets to tease you for tonight. All he wants actually, since it's so fun to watch you blush. In exchange for being your dance and drinking buddy for the night, how about you repay him with a date.

TIM DRAKE

Tim and you go to the same classes at college so you see each other pretty often, or whenever he shows up actually. You never talked much, outside of when you needed to, you just knew of each other, more than knowing each other. In fact the first time you first talked to each other, for a long period of time, was in the library when you were both looking for the same book. Since you both had project deadlines and he was too busy at night, for some reason, you agreed to work on your projects in the afternoons. As it turns out he's a pretty nice guy, not at all the rich loner you thought he'd be. Not only that but he is very helpful when it came to your own project. So helpful in fact that you had to ask him on a date to thank him.

DAMIAN WAYNE

He really likes books and proving that he has better taste and understanding than anyone else. So of course you get into a debate with him over the book you read for this months book club. Damian is loud and has plenty of opinions, you and everyone else will hear them out regardless if you want to or not. This your first time seeing him at your book club so he has to be new and already making enemies. Of course you knew who he was, his last name was a dead giveaway, but just because his dad is one of the richest men in Gotham doesn't mean he gets to be rude. A fight almost breaks out between you two but he has a smirk on his face the whole time, a rather cute smirk. Part of you hopes that he'll show up to the next meeting.

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Ideas to feed the kiddos before I disappear to cry (Yandere NightClub)

I live in a state of depression so deep that a YouTube short is the only reason I've popped back in to bless you with a concept. I hope to finish my Greek mythology oneshot but we'll see.

Also, ya'll loneliness is scary so stay safe and know that cheese cares how you're doing. That's right I'm actively promoting a parasocial relationship between me and my readers (jokes (unless-))

Genders not final okay so don't be shy to ask for another gender than the one I use

Imagine for me (this can apply for any of my fandoms as well):

You my cute little MC are a bartender at one of the sketchiest clubs. Either you are a complete airhead, no one else would hire you (criminal record), or you getting that big bag (your boss spoils you).

Because of this you have seen the poisonous underbelly of the city you live in because this club only seems to attract the worst people (yanderes). Under the influence of alcohol these people tell you all their deepest darkest secrets (you need therapy more than ever). Gods forbid you even think about being nice to them or giving them advice. Kidnapping didn't go well. Maybe you should go on a date (like a normal person). Or you could just drug them (that was sarcasm on your part).

Now you've got repeat yandere clientele asking you to help them with their darlings believing you to be some expert in the field (you'll say anything for the money or you just stupid stupid).

Some of these people might just be looking for a way to kidna-court you. These questions about your exact height and weight are very invasive.

Beware to these clients because your boss and coworkers won't let these "customers" have you that easily (all are trained killers).

Rich flirty childish boss who wants to give you the world just stop calling him "kid" he's/she's/they're five years older than you (bad case of the baby face). Wants to wrap you in his/her/their fluffy pink coat and take you home (to his/her/their cozy luxury condo). Honestly kinda want to either write an absolute boss babe or twink if I'm making an oc of this person.

Fellow bartender who is the most normal of the bunch. Pretty tall and bulky but a total sweetheart who gives you the best advice (keeps people from giving you spiked drinks). Constantly offers you rides home; they can't have you walking by yourself people want to snatch you up (them too). Probably the most normal to get into a relationship with and won't do too much against your will (unless you get hurt). Himbo vibes (genderless)

Bouncer of the club is intimidating and bulky and also very shy. Wants desperately to talk to you and tell you how he/she/ they feel but oops they just put the fear of a thousand gods into you. Thinks you're absolutely precious and wants nothing more than to take you away from all this (wants a cozy home with as many animals as possible (you'll have to stop this person from adopting all the animals in the city))

Stripper/consort who is very down to earth and flirtatious at the same time. They are a whore but know when to tone it down (consent is sexy). They get all touchy and apologize claiming it's just second nature to them. Always offers a free lap dance or something else if you're up for it ;).

And anyone else you can think of please don't be afraid to ask.

[kandyscorner]

Do I Know You? Part 24

Synopsis: You meet Selina Kyle, Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson (for a second time?)

Note: I know some of you guys wanted drama with Bruce but I was genuinely, like, not mentally prepared to write about him, so his time is very short and of course Selina is there (I am a BatCat supporter on the side). I don’t think y’all are prepared for what happens with Dick (I hope I didn’t hype it to much.) please enjoy!!

(Secondary Note: for those not aware. I am moving blogs. All older chapters of Do I Know You? will stay on @fanfics-i-find-here, any new chapters will be posted on @kandyscorner.)

Masterlist

Ten minutes and an empty mimosa glass get you nowhere. Your neck was starting to ache more from the dress, and you couldn’t find anyone you knew. In an effort to continue your search for someone and get some space from the higher than thou crowd, you figure you’d check the manor.

You find the door you came out through and begin your search, which isn’t much of a search and more you walking through the hallways of the manor at random. You still feel dizzy and warm, but the space from others soothes your mind a little. As you walk, you come across a lineup of family portraits in a smaller hallway, one that doesn’t seem to get much traffic.

You follow the photos and realize the ones you were greeted with were the most recent, so you speed up to move to the beginning. You pause at what you think is the start and stare. It’s an older portrait, but the family in it is one you recognize from your brief research on Bruce Wayne. Thomas and Martha Wayne stare at you with warm smiles, their hands resting on the shoulders of a young boy, who looks like a pale Damian with a wide grin, a young Bruce, you can only assume.

The next portrait is sadder. Thomas and Martha are missing, and Bruce is just a bit older. An older gentleman, one you assume is Alfred, stands with the boy. You feel the comfort the man is trying to ooze to the young teen with the sad, forced smile.

Next is Bruce as an adult with Alfred. Your lip quirks as you stare at the adult version of Bruce Wayne. You wonder if Jason realizes how much he looks like his adoptive father. The man seems stoic, no forced smile, but the way he stands with Alfred shows comfort between the two of them.

There’s another young boy in the next one. Black hair and blue eyes. He looks like he's pouting, like he would rather be anywhere else. You pause to try and remember the order of the Wayne kids. If you remember correctly this should Dick Grayson. The poor boy's parents had died in an accident, and he became a ward of the state. You could understand growing up in a traveling circus, your parents dying, and suddenly being stuck in one city. You’d be pouting too.

He's older in the next one, much more smiley. He’s handsome, too, you think. He could be a model. He’s missing in the photo after that, but he’s been replaced by another smiling boy with the widest grin you have ever seen. He has back hair and blue eyes like Dick Grayson but his hair is curly and just bit wild, two little curls framing his forehead. You're put off by how small the boy is, especially compared to the bulk of Bruce Wayne.

You're surprised by the next portrait. Instead of an older version of the curly haired boy, your meet a younger version of Tim and Dick is back. There's an odd solemnness to the photo, like an overbearing sadness to everyone in the photo. You move backwards and almost trip over yourself to look at the previous photo.

You stare at the curly-haired boy as your mind slowly does the math. Jason? You stare even longer. This young version of Jason seemed so… light and free. The Jason you knew always seemed like he was carrying a burden, like the world had been coarse and rough to him, but he still chose to shoulder its problems anyway.

You wonder what happened, where he went to not be in the next family photo. You wonder what happened to his eyes, all carefree and unmistakably blue. Jason's eyes were tired and green more often than blue. There’s not an ounce of green in his eyes in the photo.

“I believe you are in the wrong place.” You flinch at the strict woman's voice. You turn your head to find a gorgeous, tan woman. Tall and lithe with a pixie cut of brown hair. She wore a black dress that had to have been made for her. Her eyes are sharp and scrutinizing, and you feel like you need to explain every bad thing you’ve ever done to her.

“Sorry,” you rush out as you turn the rest of your body to blink at her. Her hard features relax once she sees your face, and a smirk makes it to her face.

“Oh, it's just a lost little kitten,” she coos at you and takes a few steps to stand in front of you.

“Sorry?” you say, more confused than apologetic. Did she just call you a kitten?

“There’s no need for that, dear. I’m Selina. Selina Kyle. I’m Bruce’s,” She offers her hand, and you take it. She wraps her other hand over the top of yours, “and your Jason’s, correct?”

Your mind is still trying to catch up with the conversation. You miss her tone and assume she means plus one for the event.

“Yes,” you nod.

“Poor boy has been out of his mind searching for you, kitten.” She pulls you into her, arm around your shoulder, and starts maneuvering you back towards the exit, “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

****

Like many people in Jason’s life, Selina is surprisingly strong, easily pushing and pulling you where she pleases. She speaks to you quietly like she’s gossiping, but you learn very quickly that Selina's idea of gossip is how expensive someone's jewelry is and whether or not it’s fake.

It's not long before two men come into view, one looking far more stressed than necessary and the other trying to placate him. It takes until you're much closer for you to tell the difference between them. Jason is the stressed one, which, honestly, you shouldn’t be surprised about. The other is Bruce Wayne himself. Up close to them together, you're startled by how much alike they look. They have the same nose, same angular jaw.  They both have that knot between their brows that seems like permanent worry. Only Bruce Wayne has blue eyes and his hair is slowly streaking with gray hairs. Selina brings you up to them.

“Look at this stray I found wandering the manor.” She playfully pinches your cheek and you fluster easily, “Such a sweet thing,” she adds before stepping away from you and into the arms of  Bruce Wayne.

“-okay?” You're caught off guard by the hand on the side of your neck, and it takes a moment of you staring at Jason’s lips to catch up.

“Yea, yea, I’m okay,” You nod, blinking at him. Your ever-constant urge to kiss him is back, and it’s nearly doubled. You feel very happy to be in his bubble again.

 “I missed you.” You add, and he smiles so sweetly at you.

“Where’d you run off to, huh?” You can’t help but smile at his soft words.

“Your family. I met a cow.” Is what you answer because that’s where you went first.

“Damian took you to meet his cow?” Your eyes slide over Bruce.

“Batcow.” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, which, in hindsight, was unnecessary, but your head was starting to feel a little fuzzy, “And yes. You have a very nice barn Mr. Wayne.”

He smiles at you, and you decide you understand why all those people on the internet were into Brucie Wayne, if his dazzling smile had anything to do with it.

“Thank you, and you can just call me Bruce, and I see you’ve met Selina already. She’s my girlfriend.”

Jason mumbles in your ear something along the lines of “right now,” but you pay no mind to it. You're far more distracted by the knowing smile Selina sends you. You understand her phrasing in the house. It was a trap. I’m Bruce’s and you're Jason’s? and you had agreed.

“Oh,” You feel a little frozen as you're overcome with the realization that Jason’s entire family and slightly extended seriously think you two are dating. Which is surprising because you didn’t learn anything about any of them from Jason, aside from Damian and Alfred. Had Jason talked to them about you?

You spare a glance at Jason. His features are hard set, a tenseness in his shoulders that nearly makes you worry if not for the way his hand, which had been holding your face, settled on your mid back, his thumb barely skimming the exposed skin between your shoulder blades.

You wish he would talk to you. He’s done something, said something that makes his family think the way they do, but now is not the time for that conversation. You turn and smile at Bruce and Selina.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you pause, a hesitation before you admit something, “I'll admit to doing some research on you…Bruce.” It feels awkward using his name. “It's very rare to find a billionaire so willing to help. Um, I'm a waitress at Jackie’s coffee house right on the edge of the narrows. She keeps it open thanks to your old town business loans. Most people would say having a loan with no interest is bad for business, but I can appreciate what you're doing for Gotham.”

Jason’s hand pauses on your back, and you can see the curious flicker in his eye. Bruce just smiles at you.

“I met Jackie, a very sweet woman with a bout of bad luck. It's fairly common in Gotham, but I have as much money to spare as possible, and if it means helping Gothamites, then that’s what I want to do.” You don’t hear any childish pride in the sentence like you would expect, but you hear Jason scoff under his breath at Bruce’s words anyway, “Although I have to say when people research me, it's usually not out of the goodness of their hearts.” He continues. Selina giggles like she knows something, you’re starting to think that’s her default attitude.

Bruce seems intent on continuing the conversation, but another man interjects himself into the conversation. Both Selina and Bruce roll their eyes, but apparently the man is too stuck up to notice. Bruce shoots you an apologetic look and quickly shakes your hand before he’s dragged away. Selina is slow to follow him.

“He’s happy you’re here, kitten, and that you’ve brought this one with you,” Selina says as she pats Jason on the arm, “We would like to see him just a bit more, yeah?” The last line feels more directed at Jason. It has no teasing to it, a statement said in utmost honesty. Jason flounders a bit, not meeting her eye.

“Thanks, Selina,” He mumbles, and she flashes you both a smile before she follows after Bruce, stealing a glass off of a tray with a slickness that rivals even Jason’s exchanging of glasses.

Jason turns on you, hand moving from your back to your shoulder. He stares you down with a sternness that makes you smile at him. He rolls his eyes at you.

“Seriously, where’d you go, honey? I came back to where I left you, and you were gone.”

“Well,” you start, “I was with Duke and Steph and then Cass pulled her away and it was just me and Duke and then Damian shooed him and Damian took me to see Jerry. I thought Jerry was another dog like Titus. I was wrong, Jerry is a turkey. Then I meet Batcow, she’s sweet. Then we came back here.” You keep out the conversations you had with both siblings because you don’t want him to know how you’ve apparently given up on vetoing the rumors about you two dating.

“I started looking for you, but then realized how much my dress was hurting my neck, so I went looking for the girls, but I had no success with that either, so then I figured ‘maybe they went inside’, so then I went inside, but I didn’t find anyone. I did find a hall of family portraits. I think I found you. Did you used to have curly?” You finally pause, waiting. You had watched Jason through your rant. He had only a teasing grin, but at the mention of the portraits, it drops.

“Yeah, yeah, I used to have curly hair.” He says only loud enough for you to hear. You want to ask about the melancholy of the next photo, the one he’s missing from, but you continue with your story instead.

“You were cute, like a chipmunk,” his mouth opens like he’s going to defend himself but you keep going, “and then Silena found me and I thought I was big trouble but then she called me kitten which I thought was really weird but you didn’t seem to surprised when she used it just now so maybe its just a her thing then she brought me here and now your all caught up on our activities.” You finally stop taking a breath. You feel warm, still dizzy, but you don’t mind so much now that you can stare at Jason. His hand moves from your shoulder to massage your neck around the halter tie. You sigh at his touch, eyes sliding shut for a moment.

“I did not look like a chipmunk,” he mumbles, and as you open your eyes, you become aware of how close Jason is. You can see the swirl of green in his eyes, feel his breath on your face.

“How can I help with your dress?” he asks, and you blink at him. Take it off, your mind offers. You bite your tongue to stop the words.

“Will you help me with the straps? I can't do them myself,” you ask quietly, hoping your face doesn’t give away your thoughts.

“You know I’ll help you with anything, sweetheart.”

****

Jason led you away from the crowd into a more wooded area with a little pocket of space for some privacy. You explained to him how the dress worked, the four ribbons that were straps, where the other two were tucked away, and how you wanted them tied. He stood behind you and quietly went to work untying the knot to the halter.

He was warm, you could feel it radiating off him. You had to bite down the urge not to shiver as he would lean in close to look at the knot as he undid it. If he leaned in more, he could kiss your bare skin if he wanted to. You wanted him to.

You shift on your feet, the heat between your legs returning easily now that you were alone with Jason again and vulnerably so. His hand pauses to press against your ribs under your arm. If his hand slid forward, he could cop a feel with no problem.

“Stop squirming,” he murmurs in your ear, tone demanding, and it makes your stomach flutter. You want to move just to see what he would do. You stop moving, though, here not the right time nor the right place. His hand leaves your side to return to untying. The ribbon straps fall forward.

Instinctively, your hands come up to hold the top of the dress, pressing your hands to your chest. You know it won't fall, the dress is designed both to have straps and not to have straps. But you're in “the middle of the woods” with Jason, away from everyone else. If someone happened upon you, you didn’t want the dress to suddenly decide it wasn’t built to be strapless and end up flashing someone. Or heaven forbid, confirm that you and Jason are dating and tried to have a sexual rendezvous in the woods.

You feel the ghost of Jason’s finger skim down one shoulder blade before it dips into the back of the dress to tug out the hidden ribbon of fabric. Your breath catches as he repeats the process on the other side, hand not skimming so much as dragging across your skin down into the back of the dress. You feel warm, very warm, and you lean back into his touch. You must have moved more than you thought because Jason’s hands grab onto your waist, pushing you forward slightly.

“What’d I say, sugar? Hmm?” he says, his voice low and steady, the breath of it makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. You think he’s created a Pavlov effect on you when he uses the pet name sugar with that tone of voice.  You literally stop breathing for a moment, resisting every urge in your body demanding that you step back and press yourself against him. It takes much more energy than you expect.

“Sorry,” you murmur as your fingers twiddle with the top hem of the dress. You keep your gaze ducked, staring hard at the grass as he shifts.

“It's okay, just hold still, yeah? Let me help,” Jason says as he steps to stand halfway beside you, halfway behind you. His hand comes into your eyesight as he lifts the ribbon from your front and brings it to your shoulder, meeting the back ribbon there. His words calm you, a little less low and more concentrated. You can feel him staring into your cheek, but you keep your eyes trained on the grass.

“Bows, right, sweetheart?” he asks, hands hovering over the skin on your shoulder. You finally turn your head to look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Please,” you say quietly with a nod, “make them pretty too.” He drops his eyes to the ribbons and focuses in, periodically glancing at your face.

He ties and unties like he can't decide if it was done right. As he unties it again, he pauses to press the back of his hand to your cheek. It has you blinking in confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look hot.” He drops his hand and starts to tie again. You giggle at his words.

“Aw, thanks, handsome.” His hands stop for a moment.

 “That’s not-” He pauses, head turning to the trees. He doesn’t say anything else as he watches. You wonder if he saw something or heard something with the way his eyes seem to search.

“Am I interrupting something?” a voice calls out. You flinch. Hard. You take a startled step back, right into Jason, your shoulder to his chest. You nearly trip over yourself with the movement. If Jason’s chest hadn’t steadied you, then his hand certainly would have, suddenly teleporting from your shoulder to your waist. His grip there tighter than before.

The voice that spoke has a certain joyful cadence to it, like the man is witnessing the funniest comedy show he’s ever seen. It sounds familiar. The voice probably wouldn’t have drawn you to it if it weren't for the words spoken, ones you’ve heard before. The man in question finally pops out of the woods with an apologetic smile that you know you’ve seen before.

“Dick,” Jason says gruffly, hand moving from the side of your waist forward, a gentle press against your tummy has you pressed more tightly against his chest. Your mind lags with everything happening.

“Jason,” you scold quietly, finding his name-calling unnecessary. Your brain slowly catches up as you remember that Jason has a brother named Dick. You stare at the man, the image of him slowly lining up with the photo you had seen inside.

“It’s okay. He’s just saying my name,” Dick waves off what your almost positive Jason was saying as an insult. He gives you both a disarming smile and you can only imagine what it looks like he just stumbled upon.

You and Jason, away from everyone else. You, flushed, according to Jason. The top of your dress in shambles, one shoulder entirely bare, the other covered by Jason’s hand holding your straps up. That and the way Jason holds you against him. This can’t be a good look.

“Jason’s helping fix my dress.” You rush out quickly. Dick takes a step forward and Jason’s hand tightens against your stomache. Its almost possessive the way he holds you, like he was trying to tell Dick that you were Jason’s. You quietly file in your mind that kind of like it.

Dick just continues to smile, “Take it easy, Little Wing.”

Your eyes widen and you suddenly feel like you’ve been hit in the chest. Despite how fuzzy your head feels, your mind connects the dots on why he seems familiar, and it has nothing to do with the photo in the manor. The phrasing of words at first had stuck out to you, but now, you understood.

 Little Wing. You had only heard the name once before and it was from Nightwing. Your eyes track over Dick Grayson as he stands there. The comparison is easy. He’s already wearing a black button-up with an electric blue tie. Maybe he wasn’t trying to hide it. You can see it now as you met his eyes, blue eyes that were previously covered by a black and white mask at your last meeting.

Dick Grayson was Nightwing. Jason’s brother was Nightwing. You wonder if he knows that his brother is a crime-fighting vigilante. You don’t even know what to do with the information. Should you tell Jason? What if Dick is keeping it a secret on purpose? You push the thought aside, a problem for later, as Dick finally comes to stand in front of you.

He says your name with the familiarity of people who have already met, which you guess you had just not like this. You blink at him in disbelief.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Dick Grayson.” He offers his hand, and you take it limply, still staring at him, nodding slowly. His eyes leave yours to look at Jason's hand on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong with your dress?” he asks you, but you're still taking in his face. His facial structure was so obviously Nightwing, you wonder why more people don’t know. After a beat of silence, Jason answers for you.

“Her straps were hurting her neck. I’m just tying them into bows on her shoulders.” His hand leaves your shoulder to show Dick his handiwork.

“That’s a shitty bow,” Dick tells him. Jason’s hand on your stomach moves again as he moves back a little, no longer pressing you against him. It snaps you out of your stare, your head turning to stare at the trees instead, trying to steady the panic you have from your newfound information.

“Yeah, and I’m sure you could do so much better, dickhead.” You don’t have it in you to scold Jason for the name-calling. His tone is challenging, and you flinch again at the feel feel of unfamiliar fingers on your shoulder. It has your head swiveling quickly and Dick pulls his hands back.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked. Is it okay if I help?” He asks and you stare for a moment too long. Jason huffs behind you, and you finally answer.

“Yeah, sure.” You say with a shrug because you’re still freaking out. It doesn’t take long, much less time than it took Jason, for Dick to have both of your straps tied up into pretty bows. You admire them with surprise.

“Thank you. They look nice.” You murmur as Dick steps out of your bubble. Your hand absentmindedly swings behind you, searching for Jason. He had stepped away from you as Dick had worked but you missed his warmth, and you need some comfort to cool your rapid thinking mind.

“Jason?” you ask as you turn your head, “Where’d you go?”

You find him a few steps away from you, out of reach, and doing what you can only describe as pouting, hard features and arms crossed in front of him. You have to shake your head to keep your focus away from how the material of his shirt stretches over his muscles. His face softens a hair when he looks at you, certainly not as much as it usually would.

“Just giving you space.” He says, and it has an anxious feeling crawling up your back. He sounds mad but you can’t figure out if it’s with you or with Dick, or with something else.

“Oh, but I want you in my space.” The words slip out of your mouth without much thought of who you're in company with. You just don’t want Jason to be angry with you. He glances between you and Dick before his gruff look melts. He easily slides back into your bubble.

“I’ll leave two alone,” Dick says, and you turn to find smiling at you two, something akin to loving pride on his features, “and Stephs looking for you. That’s the reason I came out here looking.” He waves as he steps back into the trees, heading for the brunch. You watch him go, still a little distraught about the Nightwing thing but choosing to ignore it.

With Dick gone, you turn on Jason. Your hands make their way to hold his face, some leftover upset still there. He seems surprised by your sudden cradling, most likely because you missed, hands landing on his neck before crawling up to his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice bubbling in worry. You can feel the tears in your throat. If Jason was upset with you, you don’t know what you’ll do. Jason mimics you, his hands coming to hold your face.

“Nothing's wrong, sweetheart. Why do you sound like you're gonna cry?” he gently swipes on the skin of your cheek, and you sniffle.

“I thought you were mad at me,” you pout.

Jason laughs under his breath, “Mad at you, honey? I could never. If anything, I was mad at Dick.”

“Why? Do you not like the bows?” Your head drops to look at the bows unsuccessfully because Jason’s hand and wrists were in the way. You end up pressing your nose to his wrist instead.

“No, I like ‘em,” his hand leaves your face to fluff up the bow you were trying to look at, “You were just staring at Dick a lot.”

You want to explain to him the reason you were staring wasn’t because you were into dick (he was very handsome, model worthy but that’s not the point). You were staring because you just discovered that his older brother is a vigilante who runs around in black and blue spandex. You couldn’t just say that to Jason, though. What if he didn’t know? He was already on rough terms with his family, you’re sure a lie like that would cause problems, and you already made a deal with Damian to make sure Jason spent more time with his family.

“I’m sorry,” you say instead

“Don’t be sorry. I was just jealous, it's stupid.” He tries to shrug off your apology, his hands leaving you. Your own hands on his face tighten, smooshing his cheeks and lips.

“You have no reason to be jealous. I’d rather stare at you than anyone else.” You say as earnestly as possible. You can feel his face shifting under your hands, trying to smile.

“Okay, Sweetheart,” his words come out weird thanks to his smooshed lips and you give him a cheeky smile. He wraps his hands around your wrists and tugs his face from your hold, “Stop crushing my face, I get it, you like me.” He teases.

“Duh,” you slide your hands into his and start pulling him, “Let’s rejoin the party.” Jason lets you pull him with mild resistance. He has a fond smile and its only when you get to the edge of the clearing that he’s pulling you back to him.

“The brunch is that way, sweetheart.” He points at the opposite side of the clearing and his arm wraps around your shoulder to guide you the correct way. “Are you feeling okay?”

You turn your head to smile brightly at him, “I’m great now that I know your not mad at me.”

“If you say so,” he says, pressing a pleasant kiss to your temple.

Additional note: So that reveal? Crazy stuff. I have been waiting to write the scene since the pollen chapter. Although to be far, prior to the pollen fic, the scene was supposed to be almost a little more steamy (who wouldn’t want to be sandwiched between Dick Grayson and Jason Todd) but then I wrote the pollen chapter and I was like ‘oh you know what would cause even more drama’ and now we’re here. Also she’s stupid, I’m sure you noticed she missed some important details when comparing that night to the current event (Namely WHO Dick called little wing). I promise it will be worth it y'all. I love you guys for reading and commenting. Let me know any thoughts!

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant, @alma-ru3, @13fresh, @anuttellaa, @nekotaetae, @redsakura101, @sleepy-head1

[missglaskin]

Yan!Great Bastards/Targs house (Platonic) HCS

Characters-Aegon IV, Naerys, Aemon (mention), Daeron II, Daenerys, Daemon Blackfyre, Shiera, Aegor, Brynden

Note; reader is adopted and female, mostly platonic but some relationships can be interpreted. The timeline is inaccurate/messy

Ever since Aegon brought you to court, many whispers assumed you must have been a bastard of his. Yet there was a lack of any sign that the blood of old Valyria coursed through your veins. It also didn't help that there were whispers claiming you already had a family of your own, adding to the uncertainty surrounding their fate. Still, even with doubt, the lord and ladies accept Aegon's claims.

Aegon has kept you close ever since you arrived at court. He has proven to be a man of envy, despising the thought of anyone else stealing your time and attention from him. Despite his best efforts to keep you to himself, Naerys and Aemon were still able to become quite involved in your life.

You quickly won the favor of Naerys, as she would spend alone time with you at any given chance. It's her who also gave you and Daeron and Daenerys the opportunity to finally meet. With Naerys, you can come to expect that she'll hand you clothes that she herself embroidered and sewed.

With you around, Aegon treats Naerys with a little more decency. Aegon is a man who seeks praise and validation, so noticing your frown and distant demeanor in the way he treats Naerys will hurt him just a little. Unbeknownst to you, it only deepens Daeron and Aemon's attachment to seeing you care for Naerys.

Aemon is the last person Aegon ever wants to see you bond with. There is considerable conflict between the brothers, whether it's believed to be over Naerys or the allegations regarding Daeron's legitimacy. The more Aemon spends his time with you, the more bitterly Aegon feels toward his brother.

Daeron, along with Aemon and Naerys, is possibly the most "normal" out of the family. He treats you with such tenderness and care—it's impossible not to warm up to him. Given that his father brought you to court and paraded you around, you initially assume that Daeron would harbor some resentment. But all Daeron's eyes convey is warmth.

Daeron and you are told to spend most of the day together whenever you could, either playing cyvasse, going for a walk in the gardens, or having dinner together. Aegon didn't give much thought if you chose to carry out your princess responsibilities, but Daeron and Naerys did. They had you be taught how to dance, courtesy, and embroidery while he wasn’t around. 

Aemon would always try to accompany you, either walking you to your chambers or through the gardens. He guards you with the same degree of vigilance that he does with Daeron and Naerys, stepping in to help if he notices you in distress. He also permits you to go horseback riding if you choose, as Aegon never lets you.

These are rare moments in between, as Aegon immediately steals you away to his usual spot by his side. As has been said, Aegon was a demanding man. He anticipates your unceasing praise, telling you of something "nice" he has done for Naerys or giving you a gift just to see you smile. It was best for you to pretend he's the favorite of the family.

When Daeron wed Myriah Martell, both of you grew quickly fond of each other. As expected, Aegon did not like the little friendship you developed. When the two soon introduced Baelor (Breakpear) to the court, they made you among the first to hold him. Daeron couldn’t help but smile as he watched you interact with his baby son. Little Baelor was often used as an excuse for Daeron and Myriah to take you away.

While you were very attached to Daeron, he was older (and very busy), so you spent your free time with (Aegon ofc), the ladies of the court and most of all with Daemon and Daenerys. Rumors occasionally circulated that you were spotted in the gardens, showing young Daenerys the lovely view of the flowers with Daemon watching you both from afar.

The tranquil realm Viserys ruled over quickly came to an end when he passed away. Aegon, the fourth of his name, soon sat the throne. The moment the crown was put the crown on his head, the dynamics of the family were entirely shifted. Aegon’s first act was to ensure you were legitimized before the whole court. Giving you the name Targaryen was probably the only time the family came together. 

If possible, Aegon’s treatment of his son and brother worsened. Any disputes he had with Aemon led to the king forbidding his brother from ever speaking to you. It wasn’t beneath him to threaten Daeron with the same thing as well.

As king, Aegon publicly had numerous mistresses. Who all knew to get on your good side as Aegon was persuaded by your opinion. It was told how much he liked a mistress by how much he allowed her to interact with you.  Falena Stokeworth, Jeyne Lothson, Bethany Bracken, and Sereni of Lys were among the familiar faces. You even bonded with their bastards, which one is compelled to believe is a jab at his son.

The court also knew to get on your side; after all, it wasn’t filled with noble or wise men, but those who flatter and amuse. It’s said that if one made you laugh, it was enough reason for Aegon to gift them land.

Aegon always showered you with gifts, but as king, he made sure you were the best dressed at court. From silks taken from Qarth to being showered with all sorts of jewelry—diamonds, gold, rubies, and pearls. And if you asked for it, he would gladly name hills, mountains, and even castles after you.

Aegon assumed that with all he had done for you, you would always be on his side. So one can imagine his fury when rumors of Naerys’s adultery and Daeron’s legitimacy were whispered among the court, and you took his wife and son’s side. Even more when you seemed to admire his brother for defending the queen’s honor.

It was a tragedy when Aemon’s life was taken when he stepped in between the king and his assassin. His death sent Naerys into grief. And while you were grieving for Aemon, you had to also grieve for Naerys as she soon followed him to her grave. Aegon pretended to comfort you, but secretly, in all his selfishness, he was glad to have some competition taken out. 

Daenerys already saw you as her sister, but with her mother’s death, it only made her cling to you far more and made the two of you closer than ever. You did always have a way of cheering her up. In the evenings, either one of you would sneak into each other’s bedchambers just to spend time conversing. 

Daenerys loved when you would do her hair, sending away any of her handmaidens to do it instead. Even when you think you did a poor job, Dany was quick to compliment you. She was affectionate in general, embracing you either when she greeted you or when she said her goodbyes.

With Naerys and Aemon dead, Aegon continued spreading the rumors of his son’s illegitimacy, and tried getting you on his side more than once. But it only made him despise his son more seeing your intense loyalty towards him. Made worse with the queen dead, the mistresses were far more bold, pushing their children to get closer to you as a way to gain more favor in court. 

Aegor was the first to catch your attention. Even as a child, his protectiveness and possessive were evident to the whole court. If it wasn’t your father pushing away the other children, it was Aegor. In his eyes, Aegor saw you as a sweet thing to be protected, and he was willing to do anything you asked of him.

He was easily jealous and bitter of anyone taking your attention away from him. Whether it’s your lady friends, to which Aegor stands in the corner glaring at them, or Daenerys, who’s having some tea time with you. Worst of all, his anger was all directed towards Daeron to which Aegor had to hold himself from lunging at the prince whenever Daeron took you away from Aegor.

Though there’s no bigger rival to Aegon until Brynden comes into the picture. Between the half-brothers, there’s no familiarity. Not only do their houses hold a long rivalry that passes generations but Aegor’s mother was passed over by Brynden’s.

Aegon allowed you not only to know Melissa Blackwood but also to become familiar with her three children: Myra, Gwenys, and Brynden. Aegor hated how Brynden seemed to easily catch your attention. You didn’t notice the way Brynden slowly inserted himself into your little friend group with his sisters. And when you add Shiera to the mix, Aegor only grew to loathe Brynden more.

As said, while Aegor is more aggressive and demanding, Brynden is much more subtle. He has a way of getting you to open up to him, and he is a great listener, remembering every little bit. Brynden also seems to have a knack for noticing the little details from your rings to your headpieces. 

But like Aegor, Brynden is also a jealous man. You have no idea how many he has sent away, whispering doubts into your ears about the "suspicious" acts of your lady friends. Even as a child, Brynden had a way of pulling the strings and somehow he knew all there was to know. 

Shiera takes any opportunity to steal you away, locking arms as she guides you away when the two half-brothers are at each other’s throats. She would spend many hours with you if she could, listening to your sweet voice. One of her favorite things to do is get you ready for feasts in your chambers; she is fond of ivory and lace and incorporates it into your style as well.

Though none of Aegon’s bastards are closer to you than Daemon Waters. You would usually catch him in the corner of your eye, and you didn’t mind his company with how nicely he treated you. Giving you advice when needed, complimenting your dress, or gently tucking anything in place.

He was your father’s (second) favorite, and it’s evident in how he allowed Daemon the privilege to become closer to you. History remembers all too well when he handed Daemon ‘Blackfyre,’ but what history doesn’t know is that it secretly made Daemon feel as if he’s more worthy of your attention.

As expected from an Heir, Daeron resided in Dragonstone for a few years. He promised to exchange ravens and he kept to his word. As much as Daeron missed you terribly and desired nothing more than to bring you along, he knew his father’s answer. 

The more Aegon sat on the throne, the more your seat was right to next to it; a little throne of your own, one made comfortable instead of his. It was the last years that made Aegon actually never leave your side, not even Daemon could interact all that much with you. 

When Aegon’s reign ended, he demanded you to be on his side as spent his last moments on his deathbed. And it made you a witness to his last decree: legitimizing all his great bastards; a last spite against Daeron.

Upon learning of his father’s death, you and Daeron reunited once more, a happy moment instantly overshadowed by the realization that Daeron must do his supposed duty, crowning himself with you as his witness. He spent his time repairing all the damage his father did. Daeron would go as far as to include you in the council, and like his father, would look forward to your advice, but unlike his father, he can choose to make his own decisions.

Daenerys being sent off to Dorne was upsetting for both of you. You both promised to exchange letters and gifts. Dany would send letters detailing her time in Dorne, how she grew fond of the place and the people, but that she missed home and, most of all, she missed you. Daeron made promises to have you visit her, but secretly the two of you knew that wouldn’t happen. 

Daemon and the rest of the bastards being legitimized was an incident that made everyone hold their breath; they all knew the consequences of doing such a thing. But for now, it seemed as if not much had changed. Daemon took the name ‘Blackfyre’, and he and the rest were strangely treated well by Daeron and allowed at court.

With Aegon no longer around, they were all allowed to spend time that they could not have. A secret among everyone was that it was a relief Aegon’s passed. Daeron, of course, had more authority than anyone else, but he strangely did not hold his father’s intense possessiveness and jealousy, and the same went for Myriah, who treated you so well and convinced her husband to give you some freedom.

It meant you were permitted to be entertained in court as much as you wanted. Dancing with the other lords and ladies even if it led Daemon and Shiera taking all of your time.

You were also permitted the freedom to attend many dramatic performances and the jousting where many men competed for your hand. But something that Daeron and all the others agreed on: was that you were off limits.

While Daemon sat well in court, it was Aegor who whispered things to his ear. Aegon’s intense envy and bitterness never dissipated; if anything, he found himself resenting Daeron more and more over the years. He thought while the king presented smiles and courtesy when taking you away, he assumed the king was a fox behind a sheep’s clothing wanting you all to himself.

And we can assume the resentment never stopped towards Brynden. Not only did he take the woman he loved, Aegor is forced to share you with the man he hates more than anything. Brynden gives him passing looks that Aegor knows all too well what it means. But a sight that makes him clenches his fists is watching you read with Shiera and Brynden, sitting too closely between the two of them.

Family dinners, while on the surface seem nice,  all the servants and the guards could feel the tensions rising. You are obviously seated next to the king, or at times seated next to Myriah. They all exchange pleasantries, but one can notice the glare Aegor gives when Brynden speaks to you, how Shiera and Daemon tend to only seek you out in conversations. How the rest tense when you compliment or thank one of them. 

And while everything seems pleasant at the moment, it no longer does when Daemon Blackfyre announces himself as the rightful king with Aegor on his side. When Daeron has you locked in your chambers or has guards watching your every move for your safety, but most of all to ensure you are not taken under his nose.

Shiera and Brynden who take Daeron’s side reassure they all want the best for you. There is a war brewing between the family and everyone is well aware you are stuck in the middle.

[conflictofthemind]

Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"

Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes

I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.

In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.

Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.

The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).

That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.

Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.

Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.

Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.

I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.

But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.

He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.

It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.

"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".

[xmalereader]

— Peaky Blinders —

《 BloodHound Series 》

• Thomas Shelby x male reader

Request: pls pls pls can we get a tommy shelby and male reader fic?? hes like a huge comfort character for me and ive been having like some super bad depression recently. it would mean so much to have a comforting tommy fic to read or smth, but pls dont stress if you cant do it ;; i rlly look forward to hearing your response !

• Thomas Shelby x Male reader

Requested: I mean Dom tommy x sub Male reader, tommy was the one who looked after yn as he grew up, took care of him whilst your parents were doing their thing, tommy got to see you grow into such a beautiful boi, little did he know you were crushing over him too, it was years later, on your 18th tommy decided to tell you everything not expecting you to feel the same and basically, hot steamy car sex enrolls!

• Thomas Shelby x Male reader

Summary: Reader is Thomas Shelby’s son who is hidden from the world, so what happens if one night he is able to be himself? What happens if he’s caught? - || TWO ||

• Alfie Solomons x Male reader

Requested: Hey hun, hope I'm sending this the right place, if not then excuse me, I'm new to this ahaha. I wanted to request something with Alfie. I was thinking something about Alfie and the reader being together and the workers starts harassing the reader and Alfie is not having any of it and just to whatever else you please. If it's shit then feel free to deny it. Love your page and stories

• Thomas Shelby X FTM! Reader

Requested; hey! hope you're well!! could i request a Tommy x m reader where r is ftm and is feeling Not Good Enough™ and Mr T Fooken Shelby makes him feel better? I'm aware that's vague as fuck and i am so sorry! :)

• Thomas Shelby x Male reader

Requested: Heya, can i request a thomas shelby one where the reader is new to the gang and Thomas starts getting feelings for him but tries to suppress it until they have to go on a dangerous mission and the reader gets hurt? Love your writings and hope you have a great day

• Thomas Shelby x Male reader

Summary: Reader is alone and can’t say goodbye

• Thomas Shelby x Male reader

Requested: So can I request Thomas Shelby × male!reader, where Y/N just moved to Birmingham, and still doesn't know anyone, but walking home at night, he finds Tommy after the events at the end of the first episode of the second season, and takes him home to treat him, since he is a doctor. And after he treats Thomas, it turns out that they have known each other since the days of France, where Y/N was a field orderly. At that time they were in love, but they were scattered around the world, and no one is exactly who is from where.

• Thomas shelby x Son! Reader

Requested: Hi, I saw your requests open and I love your writing! Could I please request a Thomas Shelby x Son!reader where the son takes a bullet for Tommy and comes very close to dying, like he goes into a coma and Thomson's devastated and sure that the reader will die. The reader wakes up.after like 2 weeks and its all angst until its happy ending?

• Thomas shelby x Male reader

Requested: Hey, I could have a Tommy Shelby where he and her husband adopt a baby and when they're gone, John and Arthur will have to take care of him (even though they know it's a bad idea) and they both start cursing in front of the baby and his first word is "fuck". Both are desperate to keep him from saying the word again and when Tommy and her husband arrive, the first thing they hear is a "fuck" from their little angel?

• Thomas shelby x Male reader x Theseus Scamander

Summary: Reader is Thomas Shelby’s son who has nothing to do with his fathers business, he keeps to himself and shys away from society. Thomas knew that his son is a closed off man until he finds hidden love letters that were being sent to his son and plans to get to the bottom of it.

• Thomas Shelby x Vampire! Male reader

Summary: Reader is a doctor who works with the Shelby family and befriends Thomas Shelby, oh and he’s also a vampire. - #1 short story of the vampire series

• Thomas Shelby x Vampire! Male reader

Summary: Just some more facts about little baby vamp and Thomas . - #2 short story of the vampire series

• Thomas Shelby x Vampire! Male reader

Summary: A crossover between the Shelby family and the Cullens. . - #3 short story of the vampire series

• Thomas Shelby x Vampire! Male reader

Summary: Reader attends one of Thomas parties due to him being forced, the doctor not wanting to be there tries to leave the party until he meets an old family name, a name that he always feared. Oswald Mosley. . - #4 short story of the vampire series

• Thomas Shelby x Vampire! Male reader

Summary: Reader is woken up at an early time to check up on Thomas Shelby, who is too stubborn to pay attention to his own health. . - #5 short story of the vampire series

• Thomas Shelby x Vampire! Male reader

Summary: Finale

—

Incorrect Quotes:

Leave me alone!

Unfortunate

Yeah no shit—

New Signature

I’ll kill you

Honeymoon

I love you

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 11: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism - Winter Soldier

Summary: Home alone, you think it's safe to have some 'special time', but unbeknown to you, he's there, always watching and admiring.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, stalker!winter soldier, masturbation, sex toys, loneliness, exhibitionism, voyeurism

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

Being the adoptive daughter of the infamous Alexander Pierce wasn’t always as exciting and full of potential danger as you’d expect. For the most part, you are confined to your heavily guarded home 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Despite being an adult and wanting to live your own life, your father deemed it too dangerous that you could be captured and used for ransom.

Throughout your life, you’d never even seen one second of action or risk, and some would say that just means your father has protected you to the best of his abilities. There is a point, however, where you need something exciting in your life even though there are only limited ways to get any thrill.

This usually occurred when you were home alone, like tonight. Bored out of your mind whilst watching the TV attached to the wall in the living room, your dad walked past, clicking a button on his phone before tying his show lace. Glancing at the time on your phone, you assumed he was going to work, considering it was so late; you knew better than to ask him what was wrong to demand his time.

Walking over, your dad briefly paused to lean down and kiss your forehead, pretending he cared, but there was nothing Alexander Pierce truly loved more than Hydra. He didn’t even need to say that he was leaving as your dad prepared to leave, assuming you had caught on to his gathering of stuff that he would be going, but before he could step out of the door, you shouted in his direction, “Am I expecting company tonight?”

Your Dad knew who you were referring to. The Winter Soldier. The assassin whom you’d met on numerous occasions tended to turn up unannounced to your home in search of your father to debrief or receive new orders, so you made sure to ask regarding his whereabouts so that you could be prepared for a midnight visit.

“No, he’s a couple of states away on a mission and not due to be back for another few days. I’ll lock up on my way out; don’t wait up for me”. Without another look or even an ‘I love you’, Alexander Pierce left out of the front door, and the sound of the shutters around the windows started to descend, and the thick locks on all doors clicked into place.

You were locked in, and as soon as the metal stopped creaking and you knew your dad’s car had driven off, you sighed in sweet relief at finally being home alone. It was almost like an automatic reaction for your body to become horny as soon as you were locked in, knowing that no one would interrupt and you had free reign to do whatever you pleased, which would always be masturbation.

Turning up the TV loud so you could hear it from your bedroom and not feel as alone, you changed your clothing to just an oversized shirt and nothing more, selecting which vibrator you wanted from the box beneath your bed. Today was going to be the purple bullet vibrator and then returned to the living room.

This was one of the only places where you could feel any sort of rebellion or thrill. Yes, you could and do masturbate in your bedroom just like anyone else would, but being able to do it in technically a public space gave you little bursts of adrenaline. If your father returned home, you’d be able to hear the security system unlocking, but it was also an area that was supposed to be where everyone gathered and had family time. This didn’t refer to your home, though, as you were the only person to use the living area as your father was either in his office, the gym or not home at all.

Lying down on the soft couch, your head nestling into the decorative pillow, you tried to focus your mind into the horny zone. The excitement you anticipated hit you in your gut as you lifted your shirt until it rested over your collarbones to reveal your nude body.

As the chilled breeze ghosted over your skin, it caused a ripple effect of goosebumps to shiver over you, nipples hardening, which sparked pleasure to build in your abdomen and moisture to slick at your entrance. Closing your eyes, your fingers teased over your breasts, imagining they were someone else's hands, exploring the fresh and finding where you were most sensitive.

Pinching your nipples gently, you released a soft sigh as another hand drifted down to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Biting your lip, your knees separated to allow your fingers to collect some of the juices that had leaked from your hole and then spread it over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in circles.

You were entirely in the zone, feeling increasingly more aroused with breathy moans and whimpers escaping your open mouth each second. This was your favourite place to be, hot and bothered, getting yourself off to feel your cunt pulsing around two of your fingers.

Then you were pressing the vibrator against your clit with two fingers delved into your warmth, curling and pressing on the spot that had your back arching and breaths hitching.

Everything was building, like an orchestra reaching its crescendo, approaching the peak of no return and complete euphoria. Then, the sensation rushed over you. Not the pleasant orgasmic blissful shiver but a haunting, the hairs standing on end over your arms and the back of your neck with unease. It felt like someone was watching you, but that wasn’t the case; the building was locked down, and the security cameras didn't point in this direction.

Your eyes opened on instinct, and fear, horror and dread pulsed through your stomach as you screamed, closing your legs and rushing to stand and cover your body with your shirt. Your knees buckled from the lasting effects of getting yourself off, but you clung to the arm of the couch whilst trying to turn off the vibrator.

It felt like your heart had moved to your throat, with the fear of throwing up and passing out at the same time taking over as you stared unblinking at the man currently sitting in the armchair next to the couch you’d been masturbating on. He was sitting as still as a statute, head to toe, in his tactical gear, even the mask.

“Soldier?” your voice reverberates off the walls you’ve shouted that loud. All it earned you was a tilt of his head to the side, but he didn’t say a single word, so you continued to shout, even though you knew you should have remained calm around someone as dangerous as him. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should have knocked or- something! How did you even get in here?!”

He simply sat there, staring at you with deep blue eyes, his long hair framing his face, his deadly hands resting on the arms of the chair, acting casually like he hadn’t just been sitting there as you feverishly masturbated naked in front of him. The more time passed, the worse your tremors became, almost like you were vibrating with anxiety.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Winter Soldier to not knock when he came to the house however usually your father was present or he’d been anticipated but for him to somehow get in when the house was on lockdown and not be expected, it had you on edge.

“Why didn’t you announce yourself, Soldier?” you tried to sound confident and not fearful, but your voice cracked on the last word, which gave away your anxiety. Your thoughts were going around and around in your head; how long had he been there? How did you not even hear him walking into the room?

The Assets head tilted to the other right, his eyes remaining focused only on your face as he finally began to talk in his low, drawled voice, “Why did you stop?”

Your eyes widened in shock briefly before trying to regain control, “What did you say?”

“You don’t usually stop. Why did you stop now?”

Your heart seemed to stop at this question. Swallowing the thick glob of spit in your mouth, you asked, “What do you mean usually? Have... have you seen me doing this before?”

He nods slowly, and you want to vomit immediately. Closing your eyes briefly, you tried to take a deep breath, hoping it would give you some composure. Maybe this was karma working her evil magic on you, you had decided, for having a kink with being caught, which is why you masturbated in the living room. Why on earth were you now upset when you’d actually been caught?

Sighing and rubbing both hands over your face, ignoring that they were still slightly wet from earlier, you tried to explain to the assassin, “You know, it’s not normal to watch people during intimate times like this. You’re supposed to announce yourself or something”.

“But you look at peace when you do it”, he says in the same emotionless voice. His words catch you off guard, but he continues, “You didn’t finish today like you usually do”.

The way he spoke about what you were doing, you weren’t even sure he knew what it was or the consequences of your actions. You knew his history, who he was and how they controlled him. Did he even know what sex was with all the times his mind had been wiped? He wasn’t acting like a creep, even if he had snuck in to watch you masturbate and clearly had watched it several times before. If he was going to hurt you, he would have done so by now, so tentatively, you sat back onto the couch, still pulling the bottom of your shirt lower over your legs and hiding the vibrator beneath your thigh.

“I didn’t finish like the other times because I didn’t know you were watching; it can make people uncomfortable knowing someone is watching them”.

“Does it make you uncomfortable that you know I’m watching?” his tone lowered with the question he was asking.

“Yes! I don’t want people to watch me do this, and what if my Dad finds out? What if you tell him what I’ve been doing?”

Bucky finally showed some emotion as he frowned in confusion, “Why would I tell your father about this? It has nothing to do with the mission? I like watching you because you seem to enjoy it; isn’t that a good thing?”

He seemed so innocent in his questioning. “Just so I’m getting this right, are you expecting me to continue?” The soldier nods yes in an answer as you release a long breath. “If I say no, will you kill me?” This time, he shakes his head, giving you the answer no, which did little to alleviate the nerves catapulting through you.

Standing up from the couch whilst clutching the vibrator, you rushed towards your bedroom, intending to hide the sex toy and lock yourself in so that you didn’t have to sit looking at the soldier anymore. However, as you stood before the door, you thought it over more. If he’d been watching you all of this time, then what’s the difference with him being here now? He could overpower you any time he wanted, and he didn't want any pleasure back; otherwise, he would have made advances before.

This whole situation came about because you liked the thought of being watched or caught, so why were you running away from that scenario? Having made up your mind, you returned to the living room, where the Soldier hadn’t moved even a strand of hair since you’d left in a hurry.

Sitting back on the couch, your eyes remained everywhere but on him. In fact, as you led back down, you closed your eyes with the hopes that not being able to see him would help to calm the pounding of your nervous heart.

Your nipples were still hard, so you pressed on them through your shirt with trembling fingers, not quite believing you were in this situation. The wetness from your earlier escapades was still evident over your thighs, which you sept firmly closed. Biting your lower lip until it hurt, you kept stimulating your nipples by rubbing the peaks around in circles before pinching them to elicit more of a reaction between your legs.

It worked after a couple of minutes as your muscles lost the tension and melted into the cushions further. Eventually, your thighs were spreading as you tried to only think about that orgasm that had been so very close to pleasuring your body but had quickly disappeared from the soldier's appearance.

With your legs now parted and cunt on full displaying, facing the Asset at the end of the couch, you turned the vibrator on, deciding to go straight for the toy this time rather than playing around first. Pressing the device just above your clit, you released a breathy moan, thighs shaking with the increased delight.

This time, your body heated to the point of sweat, and your face hot to the touch because no matter how much you tried to think of anything else, it always came back to the man sitting near you. With your hips jolting and rolling to push against the vibrator, your fingers moved the shirt further up your stomach, revealing your navel and breasts so you could rub and play with them without restriction.

Then, to both your horror and delight, the Winter Solider flashed into your mind, but this time, it was him hovering above you, using his gloved hands to press against your nipples. Your moans increased in volume, back arching with this thought as you begged your mind to continue this naughty thought.

Releasing your breast, your hand trailed down your body, tickling the delicate skin before dipping past your clit and two fingers into your drenched cunt. You were sure he had thicker fingers than you, but the thought of him between your legs, curling them right into that beautiful spot, his other hand holding the vibrator to your clit, had you whithering around on the couch.

Your pussy clenched harshly around your fingers, trying to draw them deeper, needing their fullness. You weren’t sure when it was, but at some point, your eyes opened so that you could look directly at the man in question, who still had failed to move from his seat in the armchair. You weren’t looking at his body thought; you were looking at those sparking blue eyes partially hidden beneath his hair as they continued to look at just your face like he only wanted to see the pleasure you displayed rather than just touching yourself.

“Oh god”, you groan aloud to these thoughts, legs spreading further open and half-flopping off the couch as you curl your fingers faster and harder. You wished it was his fingers touching you, getting you off and bringing you close to the point of orgasming. The vibrator stroked back and forth against your throbbing clit, and that was all the additional stimulation you needed to reach your peak.

Your eyes finally closed once more as you came hard, body shaking and curling in on yourself with each pulse of your pussy around your fingers. You hadn’t orgasmed that hard in months, so it took you a couple of minutes to try and catch your breath and come out of the buzzing created by the euphoria. 

Now what? You thought whilst turning off the vibrator entirely and leaving the two of you in complete silence. The assassins still hadn’t moved, and for a brief second, you thought of his arousal. Could he even be turned on? Was that a function the scientists allowed him to keep while brainwashed? Was he watching you enough to turn him on?

The thought was swiftly pushed out of your mind as you realised he was the fucking Winter Soldier, the highest-trained assassin who was also 70+ years old; this was probably last on his list of things to be worried about. Sitting up whilst covering your body with your t-shirt once more, you struggled to think what to say or do.

“Do you want me to call my Dad to tell him you’re here for a debrief?” From the corner of your eye, the Asset nodded. You stood to take the call in your bedroom, but as you stood, your eyes briefly looked at him more clearly and noticed that he very evidently had an erection with the way his tactical gear was tented at the crotch. For some reason, this made you feel relieved that he had been turned on by what you saw, and it wasn’t just a one-way situation.

Standing and walking into your bedroom, you collapsed onto the bed with your phone raised to your ear.

Your dad answered immediately with a stern tone, “Yes?”

“Uh hey, Dad, just to let you know, the Soldier’s here”.

“What?” came Alexander Pierces’ concerned voice through the mobile.

“Yeah, he just turned up a couple of minutes ago in the living room”.

“Well, tell him to get back to the compound. I won’t be home tonight, so he needs to come here”.

Finishing the conversation with him, you stood to tell the Soldier his orders but found him nowhere in the building, not in the living room, kitchen or even by the front door. He had simply vanished, and what's more, the alarm was still in place, which meant he had a way of getting in and out of your home without triggering the alarm, which you were sure if it terrified or excited you.

[genderqueerdykes]

okay so to preface i know this might sound like a troll or something. i’m not joking i am genuinely asking this question.

do you think it’s okay for someone to identify as butch, like as a gender term, without really being attracted to women?

i’m approximately a trans man and attracted entirely, as far as i know, to men and masc-aligned nonbinary people (i simplify things to gay trans guy when talking to cishets). and the term butch really feels like it describes me in terms of gender, but there’s the elephant in the room that like. i don’t like women. and idk i’ve gotten mixed answers on whether it would be like disrespectful/appropriative to use that word to describe my gender when i am, essentially, a gay man. so i wanted to ask your two cents idk. so so sorry this ask is so long 😭

yep that's okay!

butch literally just means "queer masculinity"- the term originally was coined by gay men in a conlang used between each other for safety called "Polari," and was used to in reference to masculine gays. the term was quickly adopted by the lesbian community and even other communities. butch doesn't have any requirements except being a queer masculine person. your attraction and even your gender identity don't have anything to do with that or have any way of possibly changing it

i get this question literally all the time so i don't mind answering it. if someone tells you that you HAVE to be a lesbian or a woman to be a butch, they're a rad fem. that information is not correct, not only in theory, but in practice. there are countless people across queer history who have identified as butch who are not lesbians or even attracted to women. you can be butch and bi, you can be butch and asexual and aromantic, you can be butch and be gay, you can be butch and anything else as long as you're a queer masculine person

white rad fems love to assert that "butch" belongs to women and the lesbian community but that's literally historically inaccurate. whenever someone tells you this, they are proudly and loudly regurgitating rad fem believes without second thought. rad fems are obsessed with claiming that certain terms belong to lesbians "only" and trying to cull anyone who isn't a woman out of """their""" community.

many trans men and mascs identify as butches. many gay men identify as butches. many bisexual, asexual, aromantic, non binary, genderqueer, genderfluid and GNC people identify as butches. butch has nothing to do with one's attraction or sexual orientation, it is about one's gender and/or presentation. hope that helps! take care, feel free to ask any more questions you may have

[goodluckeddie]

things I’ve been thinking about recently and want to make posts about but I don’t have the energy:

Tía Pepa’s conversation with Buck was the reason he put in for a transfer. Bro completely misinterpreted what she meant by embracing change - he heard “things have changed and you must go with them” rather than “things have changed but you must take it in your stride.”

Eddie point blank LYING about how much he was grieving because he’s a big strong rough tough repressed man who doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it except his husband. Getting a 12 in the grief assessment… sure buddy sure. The way he explodes in the kitchen fight is because nobody had asked what finding out about Bobby was like for him - while he only specifies Buck, I think literally nobody had asked him about it. But he didn’t blow up around anyone else because he wanted Buck to ask him. He wanted to grieve with Buck. The one person he can always go to, the one person who always comes to him. But Buck’s way of grieving was to shut himself off, so he couldn’t come to Eddie purely because he was struggling too. All Eddie wanted to do was grieve together.

That moment in 4x14 after Eddie gets shot and the they’re in the fire engine on the way to the hospital, and it’s the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment of Eddie weakly raising his hand as if he’s going to reach for Buck, but he can’t manage it and it falls again.

3x01, Bobby pushing Eddie towards Buck right before they hug at the surprise party. Bobby Nash always at the scene of the crime.

How I’m so pissed off that Mara’s adoption didn’t get a storyline. I know we got the whole thing about the foster license at the start of the season, but it’s the sort of thing that should have been given a more satisfying end. I’m glad she’s adopted, but I would’ve loved to see it happen properly.

Similarly, Madney’s wrong gender reveal cake went nowhere??? Think of the touching Maddie-Chimney-Jee moments we were robbed of when they had to explain to her that it was a boy, not a girl.

Despite shoddy writing for a lot of the death arc, I really enjoyed the tension between Athena and Chimney. It did feel very real, and Angela and Kenny acted the shit out of it.

Dramatic Eddie Reveals. He should be revealed like that every time he’s on screen.

Buck setting a new record for how many times he can say Eddie’s name in 8x11. The episode didn’t even feel like Eddie wasn’t in it because you knew at any given moment Buck was about to start yapping about him. Oh, and the competition scene. The motherfucking competition scene. The scene about the competition. The fact that Buck’s ex-boyfriend canonically saw Eddie as competition. Eddie haunting the narrative like a bitchy little ghost.

I want Athena and Buck scenes in s9. Less like Buck is Bobby’s dog who Athena begrudgingly but lovingly takes care of now that he’s gone, more like Buck is a goldfish that Athena occasionally feeds because she’ll be damned if she lets Bobby’s fish die. (But like Buck is still a dog. If that makes sense.)

Christopher and Denny bestieism would heal my soul.

Jealous Eddie my beloved <3

Where did Carla go???

Okay that’s all I’ve got for now <3 feel free to add your own things to this list <3

[bunnybird-afk]

Modern/Domestic AFK Journey AU

If any of you are planning on writing a modern afkj au, please consider the following ideas I have floating around my head:

Tired single parent Merlin and their two extremely spoilt but polite kids, Chippy and Hammie.

Cool aunt Dolly who runs the local coffee shop and babysits while Merlin is at work (Merlin is a college professor and a damn good one at that).

Longsuffering mayor Hogan and his 'bad boy' nephew Valen.

(Valen hasn't actually done anything bad, he's just a dumb 20-something year old that keeps ending up in the newspaper).

Chippy and Hammie attempting to set their mum/dad/parent up with somone (Dolly probably helped, but you can't prove anything).

Atleast half the afkj cast being completely down bad for this absolute milf/dilf (/pilf??).

If your main ship is w/ Korin, imagine veteran Korin just moving to town to start a new, quiet life with his adoptive son Damian.

He and Merlin could bond over what it's like to be single parents, and maybe there's some cute domestic moments where Korin realizes that he can actually see them as one big happy family.

Or if you're more into Mirael, Chippy and Hammie deciding to set Merlin up with their pre-school teacher (who happened to have a massive crush on Merlin back in highschool).

If it's Hogan, I would love to keep the whole 'old friend' vibe and maybe have Merlin be the person he goes to for advice, having known Merlin for almost a decade and trusting their judgment more than anyone elses.

But also, the absolute drama of Valen falling in love with Merlin and needing to get his act together and be a family man (something he thought he didn't want before, but is now realizing he wants more than anything). And Hogan being worried about it because he doesn't want either of them to get hurt.

Feel free to add on to this! And if you end up doing something with this concept, please tag me! I would love to see it!