#it got me thinking about how Alfred must be filling his time

[violent138]

The Batfam is so busy that Alfred could be doing anything in that damn house and nobody would know a thing. Running a criminal empire of his own, meeting with MI6 contacts, cultivating several hobbies, hosting charity events and having unwitting, half-asleep batkids mingle on their way back from patrol (and heading to bed in civilian clothes) or distracted batkids mingle on their way to the Cave. Alfred could be watching fitness influencers and working out in the Greenhouse (he's got his suit and whatnot stashed in multiple locations for quick changes).

[gay-dorito-dust]

hopefully tumblr doesnt eat this up again 😭

i was wondering how the batfam would reacted to getting caught watching edits of celebrity!reader

I’m just going to put them in a relationship with Celeb! reader just to make things easier for myself.

Dick doesn’t give a fuck if he’s caught watching edits of you! You’re his spouse of course he’s going to save each and every edit there was of you because it’s be a crime if he didn’t.

He’ll even show you the ones where he thinks you’re the hottest in shamelessly with a smile. He honestly can’t get enough of the edits that his FYP is filled with them and snippets of interviews that transition to the edits as well.

Dick has no shame in being caught because why would he? You deserve to have a thousand of edits in your name and Dick has one too many edits saved in his phone, so much so that your surprised his phone still somehow has storage for the next wave of edits that he’ll be saving should he deem them worthy.

‘Babe come look at this edit of you! You look hot!’ Is the most often used when Dick is showing off an edit of yourself to you in hopes of getting your opinions on it. You don’t mind people making edits, especially didn’t mind them now when Dick would shout ‘my spouse is fucking gorgeous! God damn’ out of seemingly nowhere.

You’re not even surprised when his Lock Screen is a live wallpaper of the edit itself, dick really didn’t have any problems showing you off in any capacity at all.

Jason is either calm with being caught or he’s wanting to strangle Roy because who else is going to rat him out to you about watching edits of you other than him?

‘Chipmunk I can explain-‘ Jason would start.

‘There’s no need, I know you watch edits of me sweetheart there’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.’ You tell him as you cuddle up to his chest. ‘It’s complete fine I’m not going to shame you in watching them, I think it’s flattering that you do.’ You add and Jason couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he held onto you, kissing your forehead.

‘It’s not my fault you’re perfect and the edits happen to capture that beauty sweetheart.’ Jason replied and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him sweetly, not knowing how much more you could possibly love this beautiful man as much as you could, especially when his cheeks flush with a red colour while he scratched his nose sheepishly.

You didn’t mind that he was watching edits and while he was glad about that he was more than certain to watch them elsewhere, more specifically away from Roy before he can rat on him…again.

Tim is terrified the moment you catch him watching edits of you, so much so that he completely forgot to pause the edit as you stare at each other, accompanied by music playing in the background.

It’s hilarious to you but embarrassing to poor Tim who believes that you’d see him as a weirdo for watching them, but all you do is laugh and kiss the side of his head before fiddling his hair affectionately. ‘Watching edits of me are you? And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable Timmy.’ You tease as you kiss his cheek.

‘You’re not weirded out?’ He’d ask, holding his phone to his shirt, not wanting you to know that he was more or less the one making them rather than watching them. He’s literally got several usb drives worth of edit material to make, no joke.

‘Nope just flattered.’ You replied before leaving Tim be before he passes out from embarrassment. Little did you know he’s making about ten more edits as we speak, all of which have to be perfect and he’ll watch them ten times over if he must, for no specific reason at all.

Bruce is just admiring his beautiful/ handsome spouse. That is all.

Alfred would’ve most likely told you that he’s been watching edits of you when you’re away. It’s adorable and you couldn’t help but smile at how your handsome boy has an hidden file on the bar computer dedicated to your edits. (Dick and Tim found it by pure accident and dick couldn’t hope but tell you about it.)

Needless to say you won’t see him watch the edits but you’ll hear from everyone else that he watches them and that about the closest you’ll get to catching him in the act of watching edits honestly. However don’t be surprised when you see a video from Stephanie of her filing Bruce somewhere as he watched the edits of you on the big screen of the bat computer, his eyes filled with pride and awe of his pretty/ charming spouse looking so effortlessly ethereal.

While you might not have caught him in the act yourself, you still found yourself smiling at Bruce smiling up at the edits of you -and sometimes him because you’re a power couple- as a warmth encased your whole being, buts that’s more than enough for you as it can act as your own little secret.

Damian is good at keeping his little secret safe, so you seeing him watch edits of you were slim to none, and even if you did you catch him in the act you would have to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself.

He’s a little embarrassed that you caught him in the act, mainly because he thought he was better than this to let his guard down to be caught in an act like this, then he’ll become irritated at the fact that you had came into his own room just to catch him watching edits of you.

‘You’re watching edits of me.’ You said.

‘And? Did you seriously come into my room to tell me that? What happened to respecting my privacy?’ He retorts, arms cross over his chest. He didn’t care that you caught him, he’s just more or less annoyed with his privacy being violated.

‘Sorry my sweet I should’ve knocked, but you haven’t answered my question.’ You apologised with a little hug and a kiss to his forehead and Damian found himself forgiving you in an instant as he brought you back into a short lived hug, hiding his flustered face in the depths of your neck, tightening his grip on you.

‘Tim hacked my phone.’ He says in response and you just let it slide, knowing that he’ll admit to it sooner or later and not when he’s being cornered into talking. You knew he watched the edits because he’s totally infatuated with his spouse and Damian knew it too, but wouldn’t dare tell you until this moment has passed you both by.

So until then he’ll watch the edits in secret because he can’t get enough of how gorgeous you looked in them.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 2

Hii! Here is the second chapter. I will post the chapters when the next one is either 50% or 90-100% ready, based on how long it has been. Hope you enjoy!

previous<< Chapter 2 >>next

Breakfast became awkward as soon as you shyly walked in, hunger beating the desire to stay hidden in your room- in hindsight, maybe you should have. They were chatting so eagerly, laughing. You wanted that too but as soon as you peeked through the door the noise stopped. It was like the first day of kindergarten. Lonely, your palms were sweating with anxiety, and- and you missed your mom.

You tried introducing yourself to Richard, but you were met with a hum and one singular glance, no interest from the older boy, your supposed brother. Bruce- you’d rather him not look at you at all. It was like he was trying to read your mind and dissect it.

By the time you had it in you to speak again, to try and create some bonds, it seemed like they couldn’t get away fast enough. They both looked so tired. You’d think they would have taken their time. Your eyes meet Alfred’s icy blues once the room is empty.

“Do they hate me?... Did I do something wrong?” Alfred’s whole body flinched at the question, unseen by the untrained eye. The old man felt pity, a bit of guilt for the way he, himself, acted. But the mask of indifference he’s been trained for years to keep took its place once more.

With a gentle hand, he did his best to soothe her worries. Bruce could never hate a kid, Alfred was sure… He hoped he was. Alfred shook his head- no, he shouldn’t doubt his child- Master Bruce. He shouldn’t doubt Master Bruce like that. He knows better. The old man cleared his throat. “Here, young miss. Master Bruce wanted you to have this. Just like Master Dick has.” His explanation of what and how to use the little black card and the modern phone came just as quickly as his try at making connections between the two kids.

“Giving a kid unsupervised access to so much money and the internet sounds like a bad idea.” Your mumbling made Alfred’s lip twitch. It was and he said as much, but it was what Master Bruce wanted, and what he wanted he got… usually.

And with that, Alfred left too. You understood why he left; he seemed to be the only employee. Taking care of such a big house all on your own must take all day, and to have to cook as well… Poor man, Bruce mustn’t like him very much either. He was old, ancient to your five-year-old self, maybe you could help with something.

After finishing your meal, you take the dishes and carefully put them in the sink. You wanted to wash them but sadly, the counter was taller than you. Instead, you focused on cleaning the table and pushing the chairs back into their place.

Bruce must have gone to work, and Richard to school. Your brows furrowed and your lips stuck out in a pout. You were supposed to go to kindergarten. Neither of the adults seemed worried about that, and you didn’t know how to get there either, so it must be a deliberate choice. Maybe it was closed. Or maybe they forgot.

Your feet carried you across the manor, from the withered garden to the many floors of the cold house, relying on the whispers from the shadows to know what door you can open, and which way you should go. They were leading you in a specific direction, you knew, but what else could you do but listen? Not like you had anything else to do or anywhere to be.

You stopped as soon as the shadows stopped whispering. The overlapping murmuring going silent made the room feel colder, and yet your amazement at the object before your eyes filled you with the warmth and hope you needed to survive another day. It was a simple thing, a painting.

A couple, a woman sitting on a chair and a man standing tall beside her. The position on any other would seem imposing, controlling even, but the hand on her shoulder wasn’t gripping her. It was a tender caress of care that reflected in the man’s face as a gentle smile and his eyes fixated on the woman, his wife. The painter did a great job of portraying the love and softness the man held for his beloved, as they did for the warmth in her smile and mischievously happy gleam in her eyes.

She was beautiful, full of life. Her dress was silky white. Must have been painted on the day of their wedding. She was the perfect picture of elegance as beautiful, shining pearls adorned her neck and the bottom of her dress, and yet… Her eyes seemed as sad as they were happy. She probably missed her mami too. You couldn’t imagine marrying someone and leaving your mom, but then again, you’re young and idealistic, dreaming of things that cannot be anymore.

You sat there for what felt like hours, taking in every little detail you could. You wanted to do this, to paint, to draw, to have your art hung for generations to see. Maybe you could fix the garden as well. Make it a beautiful background for your art, and a little something to make you feel useful. Now… how do you get back to your room?

The shadows seemed to giggle at how your demeanor soured once you realized how lost you actually were. Nevertheless, once they had their fun, they led you back to where you needed to be, gently nudging your tired little self back into the walls of your room. All that walking exhausted you so much, a nap was long overdue- you were sure they’d wake you up for lunch or dinner.

They never did. You woke up at one in the morning, more tired than when you went to sleep, and ten times hungrier and colder. Maybe they didn’t have dinner? The trash in the bin and half-chopped veggies in the fridge told a different story. It seems you’ll have to fend for yourself once more.

Tag List: @bat1212

[deadsetobsessions]

He doesn’t know how they got here, but Jason’s thankful for it. It’s not often that he speaks to Cass, when Jason’s passions are words and righteous murder and Cass’s passions are distinctly not that, but when they do speak, they manage to get along. Somehow.

“So, why don’t you kill?” Jason leans back on the couch, his favorite mug filled with Alfred’s hot chocolate.

Cass is curled against the arm of the sofa. She looks at him, head tilted. Jason knows she’s reading him, but he’s not sure what she’s finding. It’s humbling, and intimidating, to know she sees more than what he allows to show.

“I can see,” she says. “That one time… I killed. I saw. Pain. Fear. Desp- des- not wanting to die.”

“Desperation?”

Cass nods. One of her fingers fiddle with the material of the couch. Jason knows she’s allowing him to see the motion. He knows it’s her silent way of showing him trust.

“There is more. To dying. Like… like they see their lives-They think- remembers. Loves. Their life- regret, love, everything. It goes through-” Cass taps her temple.

“Their lives are flashing through their heads?”

“Yes. Good. Bad. Everything. I see.” Quieter, Cass adds “I know. I know them, then. I killed a life that I know. They love. Everyone, have something they love. I kill, I kill that love.”

“That must suck.”

Cass leans back. She nods, neck releasing their tension and eyes less hunted, more accepting.

“Yes. I don’t want to- I don’t want to be the end.” Cass swivels her shoulders towards him, now. “Why… why do you?”

“Me?” Jason… hasn’t thought about it for a while, nor too deeply. But this is Cass. And her honesty deserves an honest reply. “I kill because some people shouldn’t be left alive to hurt and kill others”

“Not about… Bruce?”

Jason took a sip of his hot chocolate. Cass settled more into the couch, her eyes clear and watchful.

“It used to be,” he admitted. “About him, I mean. It used to be about vengeance. But then I came back to Crime Alley, and then I saw the kids getting hurt instead of being protected. They’re innocent. And then, it wasn’t about Bruce anymore. Killing is just the means to an end now, for me.”

“Do you- not regret?” She makes a gesture at his leg, where on a normal day, his holsters would be.

“I try to make sure I don’t kill people I’d regret, no. Like, you know how sometimes you guys arrest muggers?”

Cass nodded.

“Sometimes,” Jason said, remembering the days of digging through trash for food and the lingering hunger that rumbled through his younger self’s stomach. “They mug people because they’re desperate. I don’t kill those guys. But people deal to kids? Who hurt sex workers? Rapists? They’re doing irreparable harm, with full knowledge of their actions. For profit, mostly. If they’re willing to ruin lives, then they should be ready for their own to be ruined. It’s justice, for people like me.”

Cass studied him. “Justice…?”

“The only kind us Alley kids could ever appreciate. Arresting an abuser, a threat, and having that stick is for the privileged. Having that threat removed completely is relieving.”

“Can’t trust the world to be fair. But death, is fair.”

“Yeah. I think if I saw as much as you do, it’d be harder to do. But I think I’d still kill, because one person’s suffering after a life of being evil is worth the safety of so many others. To know… well, I guess I’m glad I don’t know what that’s like.”

“I see.”

“I know you do,” Jason grins at her. “But not killing is an act of courage too. Even if B makes it seem like it should come instinctually.”

“Yes. He does not connect, with Damian. Does not understand, fully, how hard. To unlearn.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while after that, listening to the sounds of their family clambering around in other rooms.

“Hey, Cass?”

Cass turned back to him.

“I would kill David Cain for you.”

He would. It makes the Pit seethe when he thinks about how much David Cain and Lady Shiva hurt Cass for her to get this insanely good at reading people. He hopes she sees the pure honesty and sincerity he feels at that declaration

Cass puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. Twice.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No objections?”

“… would not feel too bad.”

Jason snorted.

“Yeah. You and me both.”

He doesn’t know how they got here, but he’s thankful for it anyways, because he understands his sister just that much more now.

[notdotspot]

Dp x Dc Shots by LMFAO

Masterpost

Danny watched as the Batmobile and Jason’s motorcycle raced down the streets heading into the outskirts of the city. They came upon an estate with a mansion that reminded him of Vlad’s. The Batman took a sharp turn into the forest surrounding the property. A few miles into the woods, the ground opened up into a cave. 

“I guess it really is a cave.”

Danny followed them down the tunnel. The jagged rocks of the dark cave eventually led them to a large cavern housing technology like he had never seen. On the largest platform, a wall of screens and a few more suited heroes waited for them. Parking the vehicles was quick as everyone unloaded, and Danny let his legs reform to touch down on the ground. 

Steph skips over to the new strangers. “Phantom. Here is the rest of the team. This is Black Bat or Casandra.” Danny assessed the girl. She seemed reserved but she waved at him anyway.

“This is Signal.”

“Duke,” he says shaking Danny’s hand.

Next to him, a taller man in black spandex with a blue symbol across his chest steps up. He fashes the brightest smile Danny has ever seen.

“Nightwing. Dick. Do not worry, I have heard every joke in the book.” 

“And I am Oracle. Barbara. Nice to meet you Phantom.”

“How do you know my name?”

“We were watching the whole interaction. Can never be too safe in Gotham, especially when we are planning to reveal our identities.”

“It is always good to have someone watching your back.” Danny tried not to let his sadness reach his voice. It has been so many years, but being Phantom without Sam and Tucker has been hard. He misses them. He misses Jazz, too. He misses everyone from Amity Park. Even though his life there consisted of getting bullied and fighting ghosts, it was still his home. 

“But you do not seem to have anyone watching yours,” an older gentleman says from behind the new Bats. “Alfred Pennyworth, at your service.”

“Do not worry about me. The people watching my back know when they are needed.”

“Frostbite, I am assuming? I heard you say the name when answering the phone after we met,” Tim chimes in.

“Yes, he is one of many looking out for me.” Danny could tell they were prying at his life, and he was not about to explain the intricacies of the Infinite Realms. He preferred keeping his royal status under wraps, too. Danny is very aware of his abilities, but he is not interested in scaring the life out of a group of mortals that live in a world nearly sealed from ghost activity. “Should we not get started? I do not think Jason wants to be stinky for longer than he needs to.”

“Correct. So, how does this work?”

“Um. It might be a slightly weird process, but I can explain it to the best of my ability. You will not understand everything I say so do not be afraid to ask questions.”

Danny is sitting across from Jason near the med-bay. Their spot was per Bruce’s request in case anything went wrong. He was getting increasingly nervous, with the eyes of the Batfamily watching him intently. Jason had removed his helmet and domino masks. The first feature that caught Danny’s eye was the white streak in his hair. It reminds him of the time he got rid of his powers and gained his own streak.

“So my theory on how this happened was originally that you must have absorbed tainted ectoplasm, and your human body could not handle the energy.”

“Orginally? Your theory has changed?” Bruce asks.

“I think so. For it to be correct, Jason would have had to be dead when he absorbed the tainted ectoplasm.” The room seemed to still. Gazes that were once pinned on him shifted between Bruce and Jason. Silence fills the room like a dense cloud.

“I can not say for sure,” Jason speaks, eyeing Bruce over Danny’s shoulder. “But, yeah, probably.” 

“I am sorry.” Danny places a hand on Jason’s knee. It is the only comfort he can provide that feels appropriate. Dick slides onto the cushioned exam table, putting an arm around him with a slight squeeze. The whole family seems to inch closer in an attempt to comfort their brother.

“Death is a hard reality to face, but it is even harder to be the one that has to live through it.” Jason’s eyes meet Danny’s, a look of understanding passing between them. 

“The people around you stop mourning because you are back, but you never got the chance to mourn the person you once were. That is okay because you can start now.” Jason gives a small nod of affirmation. He can tell there are teary eyes in the room, but Danny’s attention does not leave Jason. 

“Would you like me to explain my theory or should I begin?”

“I want to know why I am like this.”

“The streak in your hair reminded me of a case I had seen before. When people die, they develop an ectoplasmic core. The Lazurus Pit, as you call it, contains tainted ectoplasm. If I am correct, your core did not have time to form properly, and getting dunked shocked you back into the living world. You are alive, but you have a partial core and partial ghost DNA that is feeding on the residual ectoplasm. Ghost emotions work differently than mortal ones. The Pit Madness, you called it, is likely your usage of ectoplasm past the point of your production rate. Unfortunately, it is tainted, so instead of exhaustion, you get reactivity.”

“So, how will you fix it?” Jason’s voice was deep and serious, but it was impossible to miss the hope lining his words.

“My body produces ectoplasm by converting the food I eat. It is as pure as it gets. I am hoping infusing you with my ectoplasm will cleanse what is remaining of the Lazurus Pit and leave you with enough to spare for the rest of your life, as I said at the Bat Burger.”

“Where does the weird part come in?”

“Well. There is only one way to transfer ectoplasm to you in a controlled way. You have to drink my blood. I can ensure it is the correct amount. While I could use any body fluid, I think blood is the least disgusting.”

“I see your point. I am ready.” 

“Should warn you, I am not entirely sure how you will react or if it will work at all.”

“It is a risk I am willing to take.”

“Jason,” Bruce calls, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. This is the closest I will ever be to a solution.” Dick catches Jason’s eye. They give a small nod to each other. Jason looks away, scanning the room. A room filled with his family who are all here to support him. “I have to take my chance.”

Alfred brings over a cart. Needles, blades, and glassware ranging from tubes to beakers litter the surface. 

“Our equipment is at your disposal.”

“Thank you, but all I will need is this.” Danny grabs a beaker with small enough units to get an accurate and precise measurement based on his calculations. 

“I brought my own.” Grabbing a small blade from his suit pocket, which is actually a small pocket dimension. “Your blades and needles would not penetrate my skin.” He makes a small cut on his hand. Danny is aware that it is the dumbest place to give himself a cut, but it is what they do in movies. He wants to look cool. 

Holding his hand over the beaker, letting the glowing viscous liquid leak from his palm. The Batfamily looks on curiously. The glass fills slowly and the tension in the room rises with every passing minute. He pulls his hand away.

“Forty-four point four milliliters. Perfect.” He shakes his hand and the slash disappears like it was never there. 

“That is it? That is like a shot?”

“I guess it is. Are you ready?” Danny asks, handing the small beaker to him.

“Like tequila. Just have to throw it back.” He takes a deep breath, grabbing the glass. He lifts it up, looking around the room. “Cheers!” 

Jason swallows down the glob of ectoplasm. His face scrunches as he cringes at the taste. Danny might have laughed if the room were not so electrified with anxiety. 

Jason’s eyes open, and they are as bright and green as Danny’s. Next to him, Dick seems to brace for an attack, hand shooting up a baton strapped to his back. Jason struggles to hold in pained grunts. His eyes squeeze shut again, and his hands come up to cradle his head. Dick stands, and the whole room readies to fight. 

Danny puts out a hand. In his calmest, sternest voice he can muster, “Stand down. He is okay. He has to fight through.” Dick puts his weapon back and sinks back to the rest of the group. They relax slightly at his words but the tension is still palpable.

Jason’s muscles slowly relax, and his hands fall to his lap, rubbing back and forth across his thighs as he attempts to regain control of his breathing. He takes one final deep breath as his hands still and his eyes flutter open. Back to their normal shade of blue as they flick around to the faces in the room. 

“It worked,” Jason utters in an awed whisper.

“How do you know for sure?” Tim questions cautiously. 

“I just do. Thank you, Phantom.” The relief in his eyes is enough to put a smile on Danny’s face.

“Danny. You can call me Danny.”

“Thank you, Danny.”

------

may or may not have posted this part on ao3 many hours ago

anyway

I am back. Mostly. I will be posting new stuff every Tuesday!

Thanks for the patience and thanks for reading!

[alienguts]

Stay with Me (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce and Y/N's tentative first date gets extended when a storm floods the roads.

Warnings: Fluff, idiots with feelings who can't communicate them properly.

Request?: Not really, but I like writing this dynamic to see where the relationship goes.

A/N: I doubt anybody would ever have a problem with how fictional dogs are characterised, but I like to think that Ace and Titus are friendly pups who like people.

1 - Picking up the Pieces | 2 - Kintsugi | 3 - Stay with Me | 4 - Cocoon

Earlier in the week, Bruce had asked Y/N to come over for dinner. Neither of them had said the word ‘date’, but it was certainly treated like one.

The plan was originally for the two of them to order pizza and eat it in front of the TV while Y/N showed Bruce all the movies that he’d missed out on over the years, but the rest of the Wayne household had other ideas.

As soon as she’d pressed the doorbell,the front door was flung open to reveal Damian suited up for patrol, his brothers crowding the doorway around him. The small boy tried to keep his composure as his much taller brothers tried to push past him, eager to finally see Y/N after missing her for so long.

“Boys, you have to let Y/N come in,” Bruce’s voice came from behind the wall of geared up heroes.

“We just wanted to say hi to her before we go,” Dick said as he stepped away from the door first.

“Before you go?” Y/N asked in surprise. “Where are you going?”

“Bruce put us on patrol so he can stay here for your date,” Tim said and tried to yank Damian away from her side.

Y/N looked at Bruce and saw his face turn pink in embarrassment.

“It’s not a date,” Bruce said quickly. “We’re just having dinner, that’s all.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Jason said drily before slinking off into the manor, Tim and Dick following behind him after waving to Y/N.

Just as she was about to step inside the manor, Y/N felt a tap on her side. She turned her attention back to Damian, who had yet to follow the others.

“It was nice to see you, Y/N,” he said before heading down to the Cave.

“When did he get so nice?” Y/N asked once Damian was completely out of earshot. “No offence.”

“None taken,” Bruce said as he closed the front door behind her. “We all know how Damian can be. He must have missed you.”

When the cool evening air was shut out, the smell of food trailing in from the kitchen got stronger. The unmistakable smell of toasted bread and melted cheese filled Y/N’s senses and made her mouth water.

“You already ordered without me?” she asked as they made their way towards the kitchen.

“Not exactly,” Bruce said sheepishly.

A large cheese pizza sat in the middle of the kitchen island, steam rising from its surface. The counter against the wall was dusted with flour and an empty bowl of red sauce was ready to go into the dishwasher.

“Ah, so nice to see you Ms Y/N!” Alfred said as he appeared from behind the refrigerator door.

“Alfred made it for us,” Bruce said.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Alfred said with a warm smile. “We haven’t seen you in such a long time, I thought I would make something special.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Y/N said and took a seat at the counter. “Your cooking is just as good as ordering takeout.”

“You’re too kind, Ms Y/N.” Alfred took off the apron he was wearing and hung it up on a hook on a wall before making his way back to the foyer. “Enjoy your evening.”

Once Alfred had gone, Y/N turned to face Bruce who was now the colour of a tomato. She had to stop herself from laughing as he buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Sorry about all of that,” he said as he took a seat next to her. “When I told them you were coming over, they all acted like it was Christmas.”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N said and took the pizza cutter that Alfred had left on the counter. “I like seeing your family.”

“Obviously they like seeing you too.” He watched as she cut two slices and passed one to him. “Wait, let me get some silverware.”

Y/N laughed before taking a bite of her slice.

“You’ve never changed, Bruce,” she said around the bite of hot pizza. “Just eat it with your hands!”

“Old habits die hard, huh?”

Although Y/N hadn’t expected the night to go wrong, it went a lot better than she’d expected. Since Bruce had sent the boys out on patrol duty and Alfred was keeping track of the comms, there were no distractions other than Ace and Titus sniffing around and wanting to be cuddled.

While Titus was more wary of Y/N, having been trained by Damian to be on watch, Ace was more than happy to shove his snout under her arm and wedge himself between her and Bruce. Despite being a German Shepherd, he seemed to want to be a lap dog.

The night was spent in front of the seldom-used television in the living room, Y/N showing Bruce her favourite movies and shows that he’d missed out on. And that turned out to be almost every movie and show ever made.

“Bruce, how can you have a subscription to every single streaming service and have not even seen The Simpsons?” she’d asked at one point.

“I don’t exactly have the time to be sitting around watching cartoons, Y/N,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, fighting crime and running a company and attending charity events doesn’t allow for a lot of leisure time.”

By 10pm, Y/N decided that it was time for her to head back home. She still had the weekend ahead of her but she didn’t really want to spend the last part of her night stuck in traffic.

There was just one problem: it had started raining. Heavily.

Y/N had never seen so much rain before. As a native Gothamite, she knew how extreme the weather could be at times, especially during the colder months. But this was torrential.

Thankfully, Wayne Manor was on higher ground and away from any likely flooding but the same couldn’t be said for her apartment on the Lower East Side. She watched the rain from the safety of the living room, worrying about how she would get home, or whether she could get home at all.

“It’s really coming down out there, huh?” Bruce said from behind her, snapping her out of her head.

“Yeah,” she said, her breath fogging up the window. “God, I hope the roads are okay.”

“You could always spend the night here,” he said casually. Maybe a little too casually.

“What?” Y/N asked as she turned around in surprise.

“I can get Alfred to make up the guest room for you. I didn’t mean, spend the night.”

“Oh,” Y/N breathed in relief. 

They hadn’t made anything official yet, weren’t even calling the date a ‘date’, so why had her mind immediately jumped to that?

“But I don’t have anything to change into, or my toothbrush,” Y/N said quickly, trying to make the air a little less awkward.

“That’s no problem, I can get you some clothes and I’m sure we’ve got a spare toothbrush or two.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked as she moved away from the window. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Y/N,” Bruce said and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’re family to us. You’re not intruding and I’m sure the boys will love you to stay over.”

Her heart warmed at hearing him speak so earnestly. She’d never been able to explain why she’d never felt comfortable in the manor when Selina was around, but it was all down to her own insecurities and jealousy. She hated to admit it to herself, but she hated being around them when they were a couple and she felt like she’d been cast aside, whether or not that was the case.

She didn’t care that it was selfish to think that Selina being out of the picture gave her her best friend back, but it was like he was finally seeing her again after years of being invisible. Like Bruce wanted her to be in his life again and wanted her to know that.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, her head resting on his chest as she listened to his heart pick up its pace.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Bruce returned her hug and rested his cheek on the top of her head, crouching down slightly so he could reach her.

“You’re always welcome here,” he said. “I can’t speak for everyone else, but I think the atmosphere would be better around here with you.”

Y/N lifted her head from his chest, about to step away, when he gently pulled her onto her toes and captured her lips with his own. She startled slightly at first before letting him guide her, moving her hands from his chest to loop loosely around his neck, the hair at the nape of his neck just brushing her fingers. Their lips moved together softly, chaste enough to not escalate the situation but just passionate enough to feel it.

Once again, it was over too soon for Y/N’s liking. Bruce pulled away and briefly rested his forehead against hers before standing up straight again. He reluctantly released her from his hold and took her hand to lead her upstairs.

“C’mon, we’d better find you something to wear.”

When Bruce had said that he’d find something for Y/N to wear to bed, she didn’t expect him to give her his clothes. The look on her face when he’d handed them to her must have said something.

“I didn’t want to look through the boys’ clothes so I just got something out of my closet,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said and took them before opening the door for the guest bedroom.

Bruce, naturally, was still wide awake and was going to join Alfred in the Cave but stayed up to help him make up the guest room and wish Y/N goodnight. Usually when she stayed over at a friend's house, she expected to sleep on their couch, not in a lavish guest room. But, then again, most people weren’t best friends with a billionaire.

“I had a really good night,” Y/N said as she lingered in the doorway . “We should have another night like this.”

“We should,” Bruce said with a warm smile. “I think the boys will be happy about that too. They were always asking when the next time you were coming over was.”

“Well, hopefully you can tell them that I’ll see them more often.”

“Don’t be surprised if they almost knock the door down tomorrow morning.”

They were quiet for a moment, neither of them wanting the night to end, but tiredness taking over Y/N’s body. She tried her best to stifle a yawn but only made herself look more tired.

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” Bruce said before stroking the side of her face with the back of his fingers and leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Good night, Bruce,” Y/N said before reluctantly slinking into the bedroom.

As soon as the door softly clicked shut, Y/N inhaled deeply and slowly let her breath out. The night had felt like a dream and she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to wake up and find out that it had never happened. But the bundle of clothes in her arms told her differently.

She crossed the room to the bed and set the clothes down on it before undressing. Her own clothes felt scratchy and cheap in comparison to Bruce’s. He always told her that designer clothes weren’t important to him, but the quality of them clearly did. She pulled the plain grey t-shirt over her head and donned the sweatpants and sighed when the soft cotton brushed against her skin.

If she closed her eyes, it felt like Bruce was still with her, his strong arms circling her body and the scent of his cologne filling her senses. The clothes were far too big for her, but that didn’t stop her from feeling completely at ease.

Things were still moving slowly for the two of them; Bruce was still recovering from heartbreak, after all. But a slow pace was better than nothing. Y/N didn’t want to completely ruin everything by coming across too strong, but she wished Bruce was really there to sleep next to her.

Wearing his clothes would have to do for now.

As she drifted off to sleep, her mind conjured up the feeling of him holding her in his arms, stroking her hair, an echo of his heartbeat in her ear. Hopefully the next step in their relationship would come sooner rather than later, but she was willing to wait for him.

Even if that took forever.

[lovesick-joey]

Dragon Eyes

The aroma of Alfred's chamomile tea filled Bruce's nostrils, and he took a sip of it, feeling it warming him up from the inside. He felt calmer and at ease. It's been a while since he had felt that.

Placing the cup down, he watched Alfred cleaning the counters before turning his gaze towards Dick. His son sat with his legs crossed atop of his chair, his long hair neatly tied into a ponytail. His focus was on his phone, and with the way his brows were knitting, Bruce knew he had something on his mind.

"What are you looking at?" Bruce decided to ask.

Dick's head immediately snapped up to meet his eyes. He gave him a small smile. "Oh, typical," He says. "social media."

Bruce nodded reluctantly, sensing something amiss. He didn't question him further, though. He took another sip of his tea and picked up a newspaper.

Dick was still looking at him from the corner of his eye, and with sheer discomfort Bruce couldn't focus on reading anymore. He looked at him again, raising a brow.

The young man grinned sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Sorry. Didn't mean to stare.." He spoke halfheartedly. "..It's just.."

The more that Bruce looked at him, the more he realized Dick wasn't making eye-contact with him—he was looking at his cheek.

He was looking at the bruise that is most likely visible on his pale face.

Did he really hit me that hard?

Bruce stiffens and raised his hand to graze the purple patch just below his right eye.

"..Is it really visible?"

"Yeah, kinda."

Bruce sighs, turning his head to the newspaper. "I'll try to cover it up with makeup. The public won't know any better."

Dick was still watching him, but Bruce didn't make a move to engage in conversation. He really didn't want this right now.

Nevertheless, Dick pursued. "Bruce," The way his voice sounded made Bruce's shoulders tense, even more than before. He heard Dick put his phone down on the table. "I want you to talk to me."

Bruce let out another sigh. Folding his newspaper, he looked over at Dick. His son wore a solemn expression.

When he didn't speak, Dick did.

"I heard you and Eugene.. arguing, last night." He murmured. Here we go, Bruce bit back a groan that threatened to escape his lips. "Like, when I passed by your room.." Dick continued, twiddling with his thumbs, "..I heard him say.. fuck, I don't know, B. I didn't know he had such a mouth. I mean, I did know, but.. not to that extent.."

Bruce and Eugene had come home from patrolling Gotham City. It wasn't a good patrol at all—They dealt with arrogant street thugs and gang members and Bruce had to prevent Eugene from beating all of them until they were standing at God's doorstep. Their patrol was mostly them bickering with each other, and with the way Eugene is, Bruce knew he would meet the man's cold treatment later on when they got home.

And cold treatment he got.

Bruce could still remember Eugene's yelling in the back of his head. It never goes away. Nothing about Eugene goes away. Bruce might even say he'd get a lobotomy just so his thoughts would stop being plagued by him, but that's just an overdramatic response.

The punch still stung. Still hurt.

"..We had a bad time during our patrol last night." Bruce eventually replied, pausing to take a sip of his tea. The beverage didn't taste comforting anymore. He cleared his throat after putting his cup down. "You know how Eugene is. He's not good at handling his emotions."

Dick frowned a bit. "He's what, forty-seven years old? You'd think he would get his shit together by now."

Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "..We don't know what he's been through, Dick. He clearly has some trauma that he probably garnered growing up.. it would make sense why he's like that."

"Trauma doesn't justify abuse.." He heard Dick mutter under his breath, but decides not to speak on it.

"I must say, Sir," Alfred chimed in while simultaneously wiping the dishes dry. "Mister Amsel better get his act straight. Unlike you, I cannot tolerate his recent behavior."

Bruce remembered that time when Alfred kicked Eugene out of the manor. The old butler had caught him belittling Bruce in the Batcave, and after the 'hard R' was dropped from his mouth, Alfred had enough. He made Eugene sleep in the yard for two nights. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn't too happy about it.

"He'll learn with time." Bruce said. "He still has room to grow."

He wasn't sure if he believed himself.

Alfred subtly shakes his head while Dick's face hardened.

Bruce looked back at the newspaper in his hands. The paper creased under his tight grip.

TGCS ¦ Good Job. ‣ Mr. Hermit I won't be posting more TGCS content on tumblr anymore and will instead be continuing on ao3.

[chibinightowl]

Today has been a day. Just a lot of hospital stress this week between my mom and my husband's surgeries and this is how it's coming out (they're both fine and are recovering well).

~~~

Dick finds Tim in a waiting room at Gotham General, slumped in a faded blue plastic chair that's seen better days. At some point during the day, his brother had been immaculately dressed for the office. But now, his blue pin-striped suit is wrinkled, his collar is unbuttoned, and his shirtsleeves have been rolled up. There was a tie somewhere as Dick knows Tim never leaves home without one on an office day, but it's anyone's guess as to where it currently is.

"Hey. I got here as fast as I could," he says, taking the open seat beside Tim. He did too, calling Wally as soon as he got the news from Barbara. "How's Jason?"

Tim opens his eyes, giving him a look that is more dead than alive. "Still critical."

Pain lances through Dick at the two words. He'd lost Jason once before and the guilt from being off world when his Little Wing needed him the most still ate at him in the darkest parts of his psyche. And now, here he is sitting with another brother he never thought he'd have, one who's been through so much trauma and loss of his own--and who is on the verge of possibly losing another loved one.

A car-pedestrian accident. The gall of something so normal and mundane having the potential to take out the Red Hood--or any of them for that matter--is enough to make Dick want to punch the taupe wall of this dreary waiting room.

To be honest, he's rather surprised none of the others are here yet. Well, expect Bruce. He's off world with the JL and...

Oh.

Oh.

"Do you think Bruce knows yet?"

Tim's shrug is so minute Dick might have missed it if he wasn't watching closely. "Can't say I care right now. He and Jay got into another of their big fights before he left. Said if Jay can't clean up his act, then don't bother coming back."

Dick winces and easily reads between the lines of what Tim isn't saying given their semi-public place. Even in Bludhaven, he'd heard about the execution-style murder of a known pedophile--and that it was the Red Hood who'd done it.

"He didn't do it, Dick," Tim whispers, catching his gaze as tears build in his eyes. "I was there. I know he didn't. But Bruce didn't listen to either of us, said I was covering for him because he's in my pants." Those last words are practically spat out. "I think this is the first time I've ever felt like I hate him. He just doesn't listen!"

That's a feeling Dick knows all too well. He also knows now why the others aren't here--that Barbara called him first because Tim doesn't need just comfort.

He needs his big brother.

Dick slides from the chair to kneel on the floor in front of Tim. "Now that is something I know a lot about." He takes Tim's hands and squeezes them firmly. "I'm not going to tell you it'll get better. I'm also not going to say you need to be the bigger person and forgive him. What I am going to tell you is that I believe you and that I believe in Jason."

Tim's breath hitches and he falls into Dick's open arms sobbing. Thank yous fall from his lips and into Dick's jacket. Tears fill his own eyes as he remembers another time where he didn't believe this little bird, his first Robin.

Time hasn't necessarily dulled the guilt, but it has given him perspective. He'd done what he thought best at the time and owned up to it when he'd been proven wrong--a trait not shared by their mentor and father-figure.

"We'll get through this together," Dick soothes, running a hand up and down Tim's back. "You, me, and everyone else. We're all here for you and we're all pulling for Jason."

As he speaks, he glances up and spots Alfred hurrying down the hall with Damian and Duke in tow. Both boys are still dressed in their school uniforms, so Alfred must have pulled them out early. Behind them are Cass and Steph, hands held tightly.

"We're all here," he repeats, nudging Tim's chin to make him look up. "And we're not going anywhere."

[redheadjustin]

Hope you are having a good day/night?

Imagine if Joker took DNA from Jason during the time he had captured him and used it to create a child, whom he raises to be his predecessor. Now what happeneds when Jason finds out he has a son? And not only that he's being raised by the man who tortured and killed him! (Maybe even a lil batfam/Bruce to help out Jason deal with everything) and what if he is around the same age as when Jason died?

It was a dark and gloomy night in Gotham which was nothing unusual. It was even darker around Wyane manor. A young man in his early twenties walked in the main doors of the impressive estate. He had a military haircut with a white stripe in his hair. And a jagged scar that started on the left side of his lips all the way to the crown of his head. This man was Jason Todd, and he was grumpy as usual. He was called to the batcave when he’d rather be sleeping. Jason had just gotten back to Gotham after an undercover mission in Scotland. The brute of the man dragged his tired body through the main entryway of the manor and to Bruce’s downstairs study. All the while Jason had to fight off memories. These were good memories. But, Jason was far too tired to allow himself to reminisce. Even in the good ones. Once Jason reached the downstairs study it was automatic, reaching for the switch that opened the fake bookcase and revealed the elevator.

Jason had a half smile on his face as he stepped into the elevator. The door closed and his destination had been set all before Jason could turn around to face the elevator. The elevator was slower than usual. Jason tried to keep his eyes open. But his exhaustion won out for a few seconds and his eyes closed. And flashes of memories filled Jason’s mind. A blonde woman, his Robin suit, a crowbar, blood, a bomb, him trying to escape, resignation to dying, green liquid, his eyes opening, rage, Talia, Bruce, JOKER, that laugh, his gun pointed at the bastard, Bruce forgiving him, welcoming him back to the family. Jason is pulled out of his memories by the soft chime of the elevator. Jason shakes his head and walks out of the elevator. And Jason’s smile is back. He’d always loved the batcave. The trophies, the training area and most of all the quiet. It was a place for Jason to clear his head. Especially once he came back from the dead. It seemed ever since his dip in the pit Jason had a lot of anger and thoughts floating into his head at all hours of the day. The only time his head was clear was during petrol. And it was something Jason needed a lot these days.

“Jason.” Jason looks up at the call of his voice. It was his older brother, Dick Grayson. Jason’s legs were moving to his brother without him thinking about it. “Thanks for coming, little wing.” Dick says with his trademark grin and slinging an arm around Jason’s shoulder. Jason lets a snort out, “when Bruce texts me saying ‘batcave now’ i don't exactly have a choice.” It sounded resentful but Dick knew that it was a joke. Dick, Barbra, Jason and Tim all make jokes on how they all drop everything when Burce asks for them. “No, no you didn’t. But tonight it was really important. And you came. I’ll let the old man explain but, the WHOLE family is here.” Dick says as he leads Jason towards the batcomputer. “Wait, the WHOLE family?” Jason asked, alarm suddenly growing in his stomach. Dick didn’t respond and instead kept walking and soon Jason could see the ENTIRE bat family. Burce, Alfred, Barbra, Tim, Damian, Stephine, Cassandra, Duke, Luke, Kate and Selina were all gathered around the bat computer. This was big.

At Dick’s footsteps Burce turns and once he sees Jason a small smile finds its way on the face of the Dark knight. “Thank you for coming, Jason. I know you just got back from overseas and must be tired. But, this takes priority.” Burce says as he raises from his chair. And for a second Jason thought he was 11 again first meeting him. But he's not. And this is more serious than Jason was used to. Not to say that the stuff the family usually deals with isn’t serious, it is, but for some reason when he was Robin things were more fun. And less about trying to save the world and just protect Gotham.

“I’ll get straight to business because this involves the entire family and then me and the others will cover your beat.” Burce started as he sat back into his chair and hit a button and the face Jason still sees in his nightmares, Joker. “About two nights ago Joker was reported missing from Aharkham. Harely was covering for him and his son.” The last word sent a chill down Jason’s spine and he doesn’t know why. He wanted to interrupt but he knew Bruce would explain. “During your flight from Europe, Joker attacked. When we arrived on scene there was a boy about 14 with green hair but normal skin and eyes. Once he saw us he surrendered instantly. He claimed to be your son instead of Joker’s. We took a field DNA sample. Alfred confirmed his relation to you. We immediately brought him back to the cave and we examined the thumb drive he gave us. Joker took your DNA right before he killed you.” Burce finished as he stood and looked into Jason’s eyes. Jason knew. He knew. There was no doubt, he had a son.

“Jason.” Burce said in a soft voice. Jason couldn’t look away. He was a father. And his son was raised by the mam- MONSTER who killed him and is the reason he's much more buff than before. “This is a shock. I understand how you feel.” Bruce did understand just a few years back, Damian joined the family. But this is not as “pure” intentioned. A madman took his DNA to make a son. HIS son and raise it to be like him. Jaon was ferrous. He wanted to kill Joker more than he ever wanted before. “But, right now there is a 14 year old boy in the gymnastics room. And he wants to meet you.”

And with that Jason is moving towards the gymnastics room. He can hear someone call out to him but he doesn’t care. His son needs him. And that’s all that deserves his attention. Soon Jason is walking into the room. He can see his son flipping like Dick does. The green hair sticks out like a sore thumb. Jason knows hair dye from a mile away. If his son wants to continue to dye it Jason will let him. Jason watches with a proud smile as his son dismounts and sticks the landing and Jason can’t stop himself from clapping.

“Nice dismount. Almost as good as Uncle Dick.” Jason said with a smile. The second the words left Jason’s mouth the boy’s head snapped over and if Jason doubted he had a son looking into the boy’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. The boy, already having tears in his eyes Ran to his father and Jason caught him. The hug was tight and filled with love. “It’s okay baby hood. Daddy’s got you.” and while it might be weird to say that to a teenager Jason had missed almost all of his son's life so far, so for Jason he is daddy. “It’s okay bud, I got you. I got you. ”

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

51-The Little Things and Bernard

“You must be Bernard, I’m Jason’s partner,” You introduced yourself to the young man. You noted that he was handsome, and looked just like Tim’s type. Good-looking and a bit nerdy.

Jason had filled you in on the issues between Tim and his boyfriend, asking you to talk to at least one of them in hopes of helping his little brother. Initially, you were hesitant and weary of intervening in someone else’s relationship. Then, when you came over for family dinner, Tim looked at you with those big blue eyes with the cutest little puppy dog look that only a little brother could give. That’s when you finally caved, but told him only that you do the bare minimum since you didn’t want to be caught in the middle of something. 

“Yeah, Tim’s told me about you,” Bernard held out his hand and you two greeted each other warmly. He sounded happy and chirpy. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only non-vigilante here! Other than Alfred, of course.”

You laughed because it was polite, and took a seat next to him. “Yeah. Gotta admit we’re in pretty unique situations.”

He seemed to definitely understand what you meant by immediately going into a tirade about how annoying it was to get stood up all the time and how a lot of dates were put off for months to accommodate Tim’s “bat-schedule”. You understood a bit, more than once had you gotten dressed up for a date only to have Jason text saying that the two of you would have to reschedule. He’d make up for it with a bundle of apologies and promises that he had always kept. You’d try something else instead, working on small things for the weeks he was way too busy. It might have been a short dinner or even the two of you making a date out of going to the grocery store. It didn’t matter what small things it was as long as the two of you got to spend time together. 

You told Bernard as much. “It’s their life, Bernard.”

He rebuffed your comment, “Yet, they still can’t make time for us.”

“They can, but you gotta give them a chance first. Look,” You turned to look at him. “Let me lay it out like this. No one in this family is like us. They’ve had a whole different childhood and adulthood. About sixty-five percent of it is just fighting crime. Other than that, they haven’t had much experience with normal things, especially normal relationships.”

You could see the wheels in Bernard’s head turn as he thought over your words, and silently waited for his response. It took a good minute before he finally turned to you and quietly said, “But, when do you know it’s not enough?”

“Do you think it’s not enough?” Bernard shrugged, and you sighed. “You love Tim?”

He was quiet again then nodded, “Yeah.”

“Then rebuild and rework. When you finally see improvement or not, then you know. Talk to him about it, though. This is a two-way street.”

Bernard nodded, standing suddenly and bee-lining for the door. You took that as he wanted to start afresh with Tim as soon as possible. As soon as he was out the door, Jason slinked in right after, looking like he was after all the tea. You disclosed to him that despite being his girlfriend and accepting to help him it didn’t entitle him to know a private conversation. 

Jason tried to fight you on it, to at least let him know how it’ll work out. You implied that you didn’t know, and only said, “We’re still on for Friday night, right?”

[nonagesiiiimus]

eden's TLT reread: GTN's peripheral materials, pt 2:

part two! this turned into a super long one, and i still didn't even get all my thoughts out about the naming conventions. but it's long enough already.

A Sermon on Cavaliers and Necromancers

what a freaking interesting passage. this part does a few things for me.

it highlights the colonial attitudes and blindnesses of those living in the Empire. it uses the phrase "bullet-fueled barbarism" to describe non Resurrection societies, which is a complete and total colonialist phrase: used often to describe Native peoples, calling a group barbaric is a racially undertoned, 'better-than-them' filled word (p. 450).

this passage also says a lot about how the necro-cav pairing is a) perceived and b) marketed, to an extent, to the empires' people. the ideology of the empire is propagandized here to ensure that people view the necro-cav bond in a particular way. is it actually that way? in many cases yes, these two are bonded to each other in a love that is undefinable, and powerful, and balanced. what i think this passage does is try to hammer the reader over the head with that in a way that comes off as almost repressive towards any dissenting opinions.

i laughed at "BE MY CAVELIER V11". it reminded me of palamades' romance novel. he's absolutely dying for 6 sequels.

i also laughed at the "lowly lieutenant" remark (p.450). massive slam on marta dyas out of nowhere

this passage also gives some interesting information on how necromantic babies are born, and how the families work: “One flesh” is the underpinning of our whole Empire. We are born necromancers, or we are not; yet we are one. The non-necromancer will still have necromantic children. The necromancer will have parents who lacked the aptitude. The possibility is within us. We live under the thanergenic light of Dominicus, are born, grow, and die in his thanergetic Houses; the Resurrection made us so. We are fundamentally different to those born on thalergy planets outside the Empire. Our anxiety drives the expectant parent to arrange to give birth back home, or concern themselves with the baby’s proximity to grave dirt sourced from home" (p.451). not much more to add to this except that it seems like people in the Dominicus want their children to turn out as necromancers.

i was overall confused on the pattern marriages thing's importance and purpose. is it to hold onto necromantic power? what's up with all the bloodline stuff in the Houses, especially with the Sixth and their "set childbearing pairs" and "genetic scarcity" (p.453)? my understanding is that the sixth all descend from a very limited group of people and maybe have had difficulty marrying out of their house, which makes their gene pool limited. more of this is addressed in GTN/Dr. Sex/Nona, so i'm putting a pin in it to dive back into later.

THE NOTE. THE LYCTORAL NOTE. which reads: valancy says one flesh one end sounds like instructions for a sex toy. can’t stop thinking about that so can someone stop cris and alfred before the sex toy phrase catches on, thanks

i don't know who wrote it yet (cyrus?) and maybe we'll never know. but... hilarious. a bit of acid to cut through the fat of the propagandizing.

Cohort Intelligence Files

judith and marta have never seen action on the battlefield (p. 455)! also confirms there's a Cohort youth group, which, yuck. i guess they don't mind child soldiers.

i love that the tridentarii got in-house necromancy training. there would be no way ianthe could have kept up Corona's lie if they were in school! their parents must be committed to the matching set idea. again, yuck. i also think it's interesting the way that judith, like everyone else and despite knowing her for a long time, discounts ianthe completely. they are absolutely codependent in a lot of unhealthy and weird ways, but i feel like you'd have to be really not watching her to not notice ianthe's strengths. but tbh, she must have perfected the disguise. their descriptions are the first place we see "resurrection purity family" listed as a qualifier, under Naberius (p. 458).

the descriptions of isaac and jeannemary make it very clear how connected the fourth and fifth are. my question is, strategically, what does the fifth want/need from the fourth? we don't know enough about either of the houses to hazard a guess, in my opinion.

magnus and abigail married before magnus was her cavalier, which according to the Sermon, is a fifth house tradition they stick to in many cases (p.452). i enjoy the idea of magnus quinn leading a board meeting as a bureaucratic type.

palamades genius confirmed. also, camilla is so mysterious- and COMPLETELY DISCOUNTED by Judith (p.463). oh babe, she can soooo "compete on the cavalier stage".

heptanary blood cancer. yeesh. i'm dying to know what heptanary means or if it's a tamsyn word. also, reading judith's notes on protesilaus, it's wild to me that nobody fucking thought "hm. mr family man is acting like... a robot? that doesn't track. and he sucks at swords and is super slow? that doesn't track with his record either". hindsight on the beguiling dead is 20/20.

i didn't realize silas was 16. yikes, again! also, the breeding cavaliers thing is fucking disgusting. i feel so much pity for colum.

the poor mysterious ninth.

A Little Explanation of Naming Systems

first name refers to your family in some way. surname always in indicative of the House. first and last name can be used interchangeably to the same effect. names are not changed in marriage (p. 467)

some marraige stuff here too: non-necros must pick which house to settle on and affiliate with, and all children will be of the SETTLED house. necros can't marry out of house, which is why if they are to be married to someone from outside the house, that person has to affiliate with the necro's house instead of keeping their own house identity (pgs. 467-468).

harrow = harrowing of Hell. from swordofthespirit.net : "The “harrowing of hell” refers to what Christ did when he descended to Hades or hell between his death and his resurrection. Specifically, the early church believed that after his death Christ descended into hell in order to rescue the souls of the just, starting with Adam and Eve, who had died under the Fall. When Jesus descends he beaks down the doors of hell, unbinds the prisoners held in chains, and then leads the just to their heavenly paradise."

“hark is one of those terrible, portentous words that always precedes an awful time, but in the old sense of ‘awe’.” (468)

Harrow’s name is potentially a direct reference to the plot of ATN, or her character’s end game: to descend into Hell, and free those in chains, bringing them back to the light.

gideon: one who cuts down, Hacker or One Who Hewed Down the Enemy. in the bible, Gideon is a massive warrior and prophet of God, who is called down to fight the Midianites and essentially whoops ass. interesting quote from abarim publications: "The verb גדע (gada') means to hew down or cut off, mostly of religious regalia and holy trees and such. Strikingly, there are no nouns formed from this verb, suggesting that whatever was cut off, was no longer discussed and even cut off from speech itself."

tamsyn writes: "Gideon is a prophetic name: someone named their own demise in her" (p. 468). which i LOVE. their names tell of their future story, i.e she's going to KICK GOD'S ASS. hopefully.

priam: "priam in the iliad was famously a dad in a city about to go splat. (p. 469)"

coronabeth: Corona: the sun, the halo, the crown

ianthe : quoting from ancestry.com: "The name Ianthe finds its root in ancient Greek, where it is derived from the combination of the Greek words ia meaning violet and anthos meaning flower. This gave birth to its meaning as a violet colored flower. In Greek mythology, Ianthe was a [oceanid water] nymph who was beloved by one of the gods, who granted her immortality." violet eyes, immortality by God. also interestingly, ianthe was also the name of one of persephone's companions when she was taken by Hades.

there's one more legend of ianthe in greek mythology, as presumably another individual: Ianthe, a Cretan girl who was betrothed to Iphis, appears as another figure in Greek and Roman mythology. Iphis, a woman raised as a man, also fell in love with Ianthe and prayed to the gods for permission to marry the other woman. Instead, Isis changed Iphis into a man who then became Ianthe’s husband. very queer of her!

this note on the sixth house: "any person, regardless of necromantic aptitude, marrying any member of the Sixth House (also regardless of necromantic aptitude), becomes a member of the Sixth House. This binds them to the Sixth House for the rest of their lives; additionally, any subsequent children they might have are for the Sixth, even if their current partner is not of the Sixth House" (quote from the wiki). tamsyn remarks that this makes it complicated.. which i can imagine. but it probably helps with their gene pool issue.

isaac: Named for Isaac in the Bible, who was set to be sacrificed by his father by God’s orders, in order to test his father Abraham’s loyalty. “the sacrifice and death of Jesus Christ is heavily foreshadowed in the biblical account of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac…God had already asked Abraham to leave his kinfolk and give up his past, and in asking him to sacrifice Isaac, his only son, was asking him to "surrender his future as well... Just as Abraham was prepared to sacrifice Isaac, God sacrificed his only son, Jesus.”

jeannemary: named for Jeanne d’Arc, aka Joan of Arc.

isaac being named for the foreshadowed death of christ, and jeannemary being named for jeanne d’arc are just masterful (p. 472). the symbolism is near heavy handed but i eat it with a spoon anyway. gideon as christ for sure.

i LOVE tamsyn’s use of the matching parts of the name to signify the necro cav pairs that were truly devoted to each other: palAMades and cAMilla… mAGgnus and abiGAil… sobbing (p. 473)

dulcinea: Named for the imaginary love interest of Don Quixote. Don Quixote believes he must have a lady, under the mistaken view that chivalry requires it… As he does not have one, he invents her, making her the very model of female perfection.

“a case of a woman you want to exist but who really doesn’t” is heart shattering foreshadowing (p.473). this foreshadows the reveal that dulcinea as they all knew her never existed: she’d been killed by cytherea before they could even meet her

but tbh she does exist… just not in gideon. gotta wait for the river for that one. i am a pal/cam/dulcie polycule truther.

not much more except i am just consistently delighted in the thoughtfulness of the naming and how much foreshadowing is layered in the very names of these characters. many in ways we still have yet to see play out in the broader story of the text.

[strangedreamings]

S2E5 (spoilers abound)

The credits sequence hasn't changed, as far as I can tell.

Driftmark. Corlys limping to the Driftwood Throne. He's weeping over the death of his wife. As far as he knows, he's lost everyone now -- both of his children and his wife. (It's even money whether the writers even remember that Laenor is still alive.)

There's a fucking famine and all the Greens care about is parading Meleys' head through the streets. Guys, reminding the people that dragons CAN BE KILLED probably isn't the wisest thing to do right now. How many of them have lost livestock to feed the dragons' stomachs?

The Targaryen family literally spent YEARS convincing the people of Westeros that being dragonriders made them superior, now you're showing them that a dragon is really just a giant, flying horse. This is going to bite you in the ass so damn hard very soon.

"It's just meat." EXACTLY!

If Rhaenys' body is on that wagon, they need to have the Silent Sisters escort it to Driftmark, it's the only decent thing to do.

Aemond is still so damn pretty.

To be fucking honest, I don't know if that's Rhaenys' corpse or Aegon II's almost-corpse in that box. I wouldn't put it past Cole to have Aegon II transported in a way that no one can see how mangled he is.

So it was Aegon. He must be in a coma to have not made a sound this entire time. As fucked up as he is, he still didn't deserve this.

Alicent, you don't want to see this. And when did you suddenly decide you give a damn about Aegon anyway?

Ugh, they have to cut his armor off him and honestly, he looks like barbecued meat. Aemond's got a lot to answer for but the only person who can accuse him is currently comatose.

The burns make him look like he has greyscale, it's that bad.

I'm not crazy about this Grand Maester but he does seem to know what he's doing.

Oh, his broken legs. Poor guy, he'll never be able to walk properly again, if at all.

Aemond sniffing around, wanting someone, anyone, to name him Prince Regent. Sadly, he's the best option. God knows Alicent and Helaena aren't in the right frame of mind right now to rule.

But really, if the monarch can't rule, it's supposed to be the Hand who fills in. Criston, stop cleaning your sword (are you having a Lady MacBeth moment?) and do your job.

Wait, Sunfyre is dead? I thought Sunfyre is the one that eats Rhaenyra. *side-eyes the writers* What the fuck?

"He who has left us after some marital spat." I really want this guy dead. Can someone just shank him, please? Again, someone calls him Ser Alfred, but what's his surname? I can't look this asshole up without a surname.

Excusing your misogyny isn't going to get you out of this, dude.

"You've seen no more battles than I have." God, I love you, Rhaenyra.

Jace and Baela. Honestly, Baela is the more mature of the two. Jace going behind Rhaenyra's back? To be honest, the Battle of the Gullet can't come soon enough, I'm sick of him. He's too immature, too hotheaded, and he listens to no one. He may be half-Targaryen but he's no prince.

Daemon involving himself in the Blackwood-Bracken feud. This is pointless.

I like Willem but I don't think Daemon can trust him, not when it comes to the Brackens.

The Eyrie. So this is the famous Lady Jeyne Arryn. She's upset that the dragons Rhaenyra sent with Rhaena are hatchlings.

"Will you goad me, child?" Honey, you're barely old enough to be her mother, shush.

I don't like Jeyne. I can understand her rage but I don't know, she's aiming it at the wrong target. Please tell me her offering her sympathy was not how Rhaena found out Rhaenys is dead.

"There is more than one way to fight a war." Let's get the propaganda machine churning! Again, I like Mysaria, but I don't know if Rhaenyra (or anyone) can trust her.

Where are they sending Elinda? This woman needs hazard pay.

Rhaenyra and Baela sharing memories of Rhaenys, this is what this episode needed.

Daemon's dreaming again but is that Aemma, Viserys' first wife?! Did Daemon have an affair with his sister-in-law or is he just straight tripping right now? At this point, we've seen every woman in his life in these dreams except for Rhea, his first wife. Blood on his hands again.

"My favorite son"? Is she supposed to be his mom Alyssa now? Daemon, your head is a fascinating place, I swear. You need to get out of Harrenhal with whatever sanity you have left.

Daemon's chair is as broken as his psyche.

Lord God Almighty, Daemon, you're not the fucking monarch. Saying anything otherwise is treason.

Grand Maester reporting on Aegon's prognosis and Aemond is over there smirking. Boy, you need a better poker face if you want the world to believe you didn't do it.

Alicent is made to see exactly how valuable a woman's voice is in a world ruled by men. Honey, I hate to say it, but you deserve this. Like Larys said, if they're saying Rhaenyra can't rule, then they can't have a female Regent.

Prince Regent Aemond. God help the realm.

"We should make for Tumbleton." Absolutely fucking not! You're not going to a town that's going to see TWO battles.

Cheese's dog following the cart with his body, so sad.

The woman who fucked the man who was supposed to be guarding her grandson is talking about temperance? Fuck you, you hypocrite.

"I did not give you leave to speak my name." Honey, you gave him leave to eat you out, the two kinda go together. :P

Their child's skin is GRAY, this kid is either dead or almost there.

Why are the Freys using a door as a table?

"Dragons cannot be in two places at once." These Freys do realize the Blacks have multiple dragons, right?

Fuck yes, give the Freys Harrenhal, that'll end that House right there and they won't be a problem for future generations.

"Bent knees." Yeah, Jace just woke up the whole fandom.

Secret pacts with the Freys never end well.

Daemon and Alys. I thought she was supposed to be Aemond's lover, not his.

Daemon's plotting to take KL himself. Yeah, keep dreaming. You're never leaving the Riverlands.

"The Blackwoods will be feted in these halls." With what money, Daemon?

Corlys doesn't want to be Hand but he does want to make Baela his heir, but she turns him down. Honestly, Baela should be Hand.

So I found out this guy's name is Ser Alfred Broome, and he becomes a turncloak. Raise your hand if you're at all surprised.

"Not while I live, Your Grace." Liar.

Hour of the wolf, the "blackest part of the night." So, something like four in the morning.

Ser Simon has the thankless task of keeping Daemon on target, poor guy.

Laena's back to remind Daemon that he has two daughters.

I have to love that this thunderstorm is big enough to cover Harrenhal, KL, and Driftmark.

Helaena knows what Aemond did. Is it bad that I still ship them? (Don't @ me, they're Targaryens.)

Alicent, you know you can put Aegon out of his misery, right? I'm sure there are plenty of pillows around. Just saying.

"Mummy." Aww. Go back to sleep, Aegon.

For the uninitiated, Vermithor was the dragon of Jaehaerys I (Viserys I's predecessor) and Silverwing was the dragon of Alysanne, Jaehaerys' sister-wife and queen.

So, they're going with Targ cousins instead of the dragonseed bastards to ride the remaining dragons? Interesting.

They're ending the episode there? Boo. Still no Ser Harrold.

Watching the credits. I love that the two units are named "Fire" and "Blood."

Next week's episode is gonna be gory, calling it now.

[buttercream-princess]

The First Night In Rio (Oneshot)

Summary: Last year you had more losses than wins, so when the opportunity to go to Carnival in Brazil came along, it was the healing getaway you needed. Along the way, you meet a beautiful stranger at the club who provides you with the sexual healing you also needed.

**I’m terrible with summaries but you get the gist. 😉

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing, Peeping Tom Behaviour, Unprotected sex, SMUT, interactive, public sex, cheating

Word count: 7.7K

Paring: Alfred Enoch x Reader

(Only slightly edited | only proofread once!)

Thank heavens, the year was finally over. 2022 was filled with nothing but heartbreak, worrisome regrets, and waves of pain that kept you up every night, leaving puddles of tears on your childhood plushies that always knew how to soothe you. Without your plushies, your go-to sappy playlist on Spotify, and your favorite California red wine, you were sure the earth would've swallowed you whole.

In March, your fiancé of two years, Elijah, called off the engagement without explanation or closure. He left you standing there speechless, surrounded by the half-empty apartment the two of you shared, with just a brief goodbye and dirty dishes in the sink.

 "I think it's best this way. We were never gonna make it," he said bluntly.

As Elijah's belongings were already packed and out of sight, you were left to cancel the wedding invitations and hires alone. Elijah didn't even bother to help cancel the suppliers and planner, leaving all the nitty-gritty, heart-aching tasks to you. Your best friend of ten years, Iyana, was by your side the entire time, helping you tick everything off the wedding disaster checklist. That was the easy part.

Administrative tasks come naturally to you, but the hard part was the inevitable loneliness and continuous questioning of "Why?" when you slept on his side of the bed at night, smelling his cologne in the sheets and trying to hold onto what was and the remnants of his love that was no longer there.

The endless headaches from crying and lack of self-care due to the cold sting of depression left you in a mess.

In November, you finally received an answer to your "why" about Elijah. It was during a wine and movie night with your friends, and you were beginning to forget about him, even if only for the moment. That is until Iyalna asked you to call her phone because she thought she had left it in her car.

"Got you, girl. I'll call it now," you said, tapping open your phone and dialing her number.

"Thanks, lovely," Iyalna said as she headed out the door.

You could hear muffled buzzing coming from the kitchen. "Iy, I think it's here!" you called out, but there was no response. "Oh, she can't hear me. She must have gotten on the elevator already..." you thought, following the sound of her phone.

You peeled back a bag of chips that was hiding her phone and pressed down on the home button to turn off the vibration.

Elijah - 2 Messages

Wait, Elijah? Your Elijah? Why would he be texting her?

Two seconds hadn't gone by, and your curiosity got the best of you. You usually respected boundaries and were not a nosy person, but this called for investigation. You unlocked her phone. You didn't know what to expect, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw next.

"Can't you just cancel on Y/N tonight? I swear she asks to see you almost every week. She's so needy, like a sad little puppy 🙁"

"I miss you. Come home soon."

"Also, I'm staying up for when you get back. I may or may not have bought you something that I want to use on you. 😏"

Hell broke loose when you confronted Iyalna with the texts. Extensions were pulled out, and blood was drawn that night. Your other girlfriends had to pull you off of her. 

It was a nasty sight but you felt no regrets. A good ass-whooping was all the closure you needed. In a way, you were grateful for the falling out. It answered all of your questions and remedied the painful nights you experienced daily. From that moment, you were completely done with fiances, dating, best friends, and overall letting people into your vulnerable and annoyingly soft heart. 

Although you were satisfied with the end result of the whole situation, you felt the burn of two heartbreaks double-time over. You painted on a happy face every day, but you were subconsciously in agony, mourning people who you thought were your soulmates.

Something as devastating as what you experienced called for a life cleanse. By December, you challenged yourself to enjoy life without dating or romance, and without allowing people to toy with or manipulate your heart behind your back. Your emotional wall was up like a barricade on a battlefield.

Sure, this choice of yours had some toxic holes, but it kept you safe. And that's exactly what you wanted: a sense of comfort and "peace".

The agreement you made with yourself did have its perks, you must admit. You learned the beauty of saying "No" to things you had no desire to participate in, whether romantically or platonically. But this boundary was bittersweet; friends started inviting you out less and less, and eventually, you forgot what it was like to be touched by someone with the desire to connect with you on a deeper level.

January was kicking off with a bang. You had taken all your energy and put it into your job at Beleza Do Mar, the most prestigious beauty and wellness company in North and South America. As a social media marketing manager, you spent day and night pushing out magnificent results that exceeded expectations. So much so that work had become your crutch, a rewarding replacement for any kind of relationship.

In fact, you were working so hard that your boss took note and became both pleased and worried. You were working from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m., beyond the usual hours. Psyched up on caffeine and adderall, you sometimes even forgot to clock out and return home. But your presence and dedication were definitely noticed.

One afternoon, after another sleepless night at the office, your boss, Maya, called you into her office.

"So, Y/K, your performance has been phenomenal," she said.

"Thank you. I just want to make sure everything is perfect," you replied, your finger jittering with the hem of your skirt due to the five black coffees you've already downed that morning.

"Yes. Everyone appreciates all the work you've been doing. You've raised our sales numbers just from your insight." A thin-lipped smile formed on her lips. "But..." she lingered, her smile slowly fading into a stern gaze.

"Yes?" You knit your eyebrows together in confusion.

"But at Beleza Do Mar, we can't possibly - or legally - allow you to work more than 38 hours a week. I looked at your clock card online, and you've been working 45 hours per week."

"I don't see the issue. I've been acing every project that's come my way, plus handling the extra tasks of everyone in my team and picking up slack in Communications."

"That's the problem. You're working seven hours beyond our full-time employee bandwidth, and that's not even including the wellness seminars and out-of-office engagements that have been assigned to you." She showed a downward smile as her brows narrowed together. It was as if it was painful to present you with this news.

"So...am I...fired? Please don't tell me I'm fired." Your stomach churned. "This job is all I have left." you say, feeling a teensy bit pathetic, but you couldn’t help being so transparent, it was the truth. This job was your be-all and end-all at the moment.

Your boss quickly jumped to your relief. "Y/N, I know you've had a difficult year. I share my sympathy with you. I know things haven't been easy for you. Beleza Do Mar is a wellness company, and we don't find pleasure or joy in overworking our staff..."

You stared at her, eyes wide open and heart racing, waiting for her to continue.

"We are giving you an all-expenses-paid holiday in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, with three extra invitations for guests of your choosing. It's a yearly trip that the higher-ups go to for Carnival. One of the vice presidents called in sick and couldn't go, so it's been passed down. I figured, out of everyone, you would benefit from the trip the most." She paused, breathing in, and a fixed grin grew on her face. "This is off the record, but my love, you need a break. You've been working yourself to the bone. This would be an enlightening time to go to Rio, smell the flowers, and connect your feet to the welcoming soil of the mother..." She smiled with a glint almost shining off her holy teeth, "Mother Earth, that is."

Of course, she would say that. She's a homeopathic vegan doula turned executive president for a company that was in Forbes' "The Global 200" list. This was something that you could never quite get your head around. She's a product of the company, you guessed.

"I understand...and am extremely grateful. I just can't up and leave my job. I have bills to pay," you said, mumbling the last bit.

"No need to worry about that, flower child. We are covering all the days you are on holiday. You'll be paid for every workday, limitless room service, plus per diems that are quite gracious, if you ask me."

Your posture relaxed in your chair as you heard this. This sounded like a dream. Almost too good to be true.

"What about my projects?"

"Not your problem while on holiday. I'll have Jennie in Socials take care of everything. All you have to worry about is what you're wearing for Carnival and lathering up on Beleza Do Mar 50+ sunscreen while you're there. The South American sun takes no prisoners, trust me." She cheerfully informed you.

You let out a sigh of relief while pondering over your options. Though you had arising work questions and tried to fix made-up dilemmas to protest about, you took a minute to sit on the idea of a holiday. You looked back up to Maya, who had her computer screen turned around to show you the five-star resort you'd be staying at.

A plunge pool and limitless room service didn't sound too bad. You hesitated to respond, quickly gathering your thoughts.

"I mean...I have nothing to lose. Why not..." A thought of consolation eased into your mind as you eyed the kind luxurious bed shown in the photos on the laptop.

You couldn't help the goofy smile as you gave your answer. "Okay, I'll take the holiday."

Maya let out a high-spirited "Fabulous!" followed by reassuring elements about the trip that were sure to put your anxiety-driven mind at bay.

Carnival in Brazil? That was an event you'd always wanted to go to. Once you put your over-eager girl-boss demeanor aside, you were shyly beaming with joy.

What were the odds of this trip falling into your lap? If you needed a sign from God that you deserved some sense of calm after the storm, this was it.

_________________________________________

"Okay, and are you wearing the skin-toned sheer tights I bought you with your carnival outfit?" your mom blissfully asks.

"No, Mom. My legs look fine just as they are," you say.

"Sweetie, I told you your cellulite looks like a striped Bengal tiger. It's beautiful, I just love it! Nature, gorgeous. But don't you think you'll catch more bees if your honey is hidden? Or however that saying goes," she blurts out, not even thinking once to mince her words.

"Mom!"

"What? I'm only saying what I think is right. Plus, it's your father's fault you have that backside. Those Y/L/N genes are too potent."

"Oh my god, I'm not speaking about this right now," you blatantly state while shaking your head as the bellboy at the luxurious hotel you're staying at packs your bags onto the luggage carrier, guiding your group into the entrance of the accommodation.

February whined around, and eventually, you found yourself in Rio, ready to get blind drunk, dance until your hips go numb, and practice the Portuguese that you've been learning on Duolingo for the past month. Unfortunately, with the price of unbreakable boundaries, you've burned more bridges than you could count on your fingers, so those three extra tickets you were given were going to waste until you mentioned the trip to your family in a group Facetime. By the time you accidentally mentioned that you didn't have anyone to attend Carnival with, your little sister and mother already volunteered themselves to fill the spot, along with your mother's best friend, Tamara. There was no turning back when they decided they were coming, plus you could use the familiar company. You've been lonely in the city for what felt like centuries.

You near the front desk, tapping the bell as no one is around to attend to you.

Your little sister, Nia, already has her phone out, capturing every second to post on her Instagram story.

"Nia, delete that. Now."

"What? No way. This is funny as fuck. It's only going on my close friends."

"We just landed like 30 minutes ago, and you're already airing out my business? You are unbelievable." You aim to take her phone, but her hand slaps your movement out of the way, and suddenly, the two of you were squabbling over her phone, making a scene in front of everyone watching.

Embarrassment was an understatement, but you were more embarrassed at the thought of her friends in your hometown reporting to their older siblings that your whole derriere was up for shits and gigs.

"Girls stop, you're being ridiculous," your mother says as she takes selfies with Aunt Tamara, already basking in the vacation vibes.

Who would have thought you and your 20-year-old sister would already be bickering over Instagram posts at 7 PM in the afternoon of the beautiful paradise that is Brazil? You were grown but not too grown to put your little sister in her place.

From an earshot, you hear the concierge clear their throat and speak out loudly.

"Boa tarde senhorita (Good Afternoon, miss), how may I help you?"

You instantly end the debacle and give your attention to the front desk, straightening out your clothes and readjusting your hair.

You force a toothy smile as you respond, "Hi, I'd like to check in. We are under Y/L/N. There are four of us."

"Si, let me just check…alright, we have you in our presidential suite. I'll just have to grab identification, and I can get the keys for you."

Presidential suite? Maya wasn't lying when she said this was 5-star, damn!

The handover happened swiftly, and soon you and your family were unlocking the door to the suite.

All you could hear were gasps as you stepped into the room. Soaking in the rich greenery and smell of sea salt water, you run to the deck outside and take in the beautiful scenery. Your heart welled with lovely goodness; this is exactly what you need.

You were a 10-minute stroll from the beach, the sun was setting in a pink-hued orange bake, and the sound of early festive parties for Carnival was all happening on the beach. You were speechless, just in complete awe.

"This is better than I expected. I'll give it to you. This is amazing," Nia says as she comes up from behind you, joining you at the rail of the suite.

She was right; this is beyond amazing.

"Thanks. I'm just happy we're here." You childishly raise a brow and look over at Nia, not being able to hide your giddiness; a smile creeps up on your lips.

"What? Not mad anymore?" She asks.

"How could I be? Do you see this? I'm just…grateful." A single tear escapes your eyes, exhaling out all the stress, worry, and heartache that you carried with you to Brazil, in complete gratitude.

"Aweeee, look at my big baby. It's okay, let it out." Nia wraps her arms around you, embracing you in a tight squeeze as the two of you look out to waves crashing on the shore.

Feelings stirred and brewed in you; you didn't know what it was, but everything coming into place just made you emotional.

"Y'know, even though you're a bitch sometimes, I'm happy you're here. And I love you," you mumble into her hair, hugging her back.

"I know."

"And I know we might both be jet-lagged, but how does 'First night in Rio, getting fucked up off some shots and funk carioca' before Mom and Aunt Tamara crash our night sound to you?"

"I don't know what funk carioca is, but I heard shots, so I'm in." Nia laughs, resting her head on your chest. "And it's better we fuck off before they start getting into the bar. I don't wanna hear Mom singing any Prince to us tonight."

You and Nia giggle to yourselves at the memory of your mom doing karaoke whenever she gets drunk.

"Let's unpack and take showers. Tonight we get fucking scattered." She exclaimed and cheekily smacks Nia's bottom before heading inside to the suite.

—------------------------------------------------

Thanks to Nia's research on the best nightclubs in Rio for young people from Tiktok, the two of you were able to find a hidden gem that played tasteful R&B tunes and served delicious cocktails. As most tourists did not know about this club, the Y/L/N girls were able to stand out, and locals were dancing with and buying drinks for you all night.

After three margaritas and three shots, you were feeling your skin and your confidence was skyrocketing in the outfit Nia picked out for you. She suggested ditching the heels for some flats, as this is something true Brazilians would wear to the club. Thank god you listened to her, as all the girls sported sneakers or sandals.

A local boy who had been buying you drinks all night asked if you wanted to dance, but you declined, saying you were taking a break and feeling tired. He nodded and went to dance with his friends. Although he was cute, he was young, and you would pass him off to your sister. Meanwhile, Nia was preoccupied with a girl with sun-beached curls pressed against the wall of the club, trying to lay some game despite not speaking an ounce of Portuguese. You chuckled to yourself, watching the interaction like quality comedy television.

After a few songs the girl leaves and you mindlessly watch Nia approach the bar, crossing your legs as you waited for her to get you both a drink. A man with a fine muscular build stood next to Nia. He was tall, rocking a bleached platinum blonde buzz cut, wearing green cargo pants and a fitted singlet with a singular necklace hanging off his neck. He was fine.

He said something in Nia's ear, and she laughed. It seemed that this girl was on a roll, as she had almost every good-looking person at the club trying to make a pass at her. Nia listened to him with a look of confusion on her face, turned, and pointed to you, replying back to the man. He nodded and glanced over at you, a sly smirk on his face. You felt heat rise on your cheeks, wondering what they were talking about.

You awkwardly look down at your phone and press away at random apps, distracting yourself from the handsome strangers gaze. Moments later all you hear is rows of drinks being placed on the table in front of you. They looked like nice fancy cocktails, not the cheap stuff. It turned out that the tall guy Nia met at the bar, who was now sitting in VIP, had ordered every cocktail on the menu for you and Nia. He asked Nia what drink you liked, and she told him cocktails so now you were getting a taste of everyone. You were flattered by the gesture.

Looking up at the sexy stranger, you caught him staring you down with a smug smirk on his lips. It was like he knew his attention had you feeling a type of way. You smile and raise one of the drinks up to him, chucking him a thumbs up as if to gesture that it was a good choice. He licked his lips and nodded his head, not sparing you from his effortless sensual gaze.

You clench your thighs together, already feeling your bud starting to buzz. You glance up at him again, but he was no longer sitting at his table. You look around the club, trying to spot his platinum cut, but you couldn't see through the crowd of people. A sigh escapes your lips. "Well, that was nice. For the short time it lasted," you thought.

"I gotta pee, can you mind the drinks?" You ask Nia.

"Of course!" She says, sipping away on a blue cocktail.

You get up from your seat and head to the restrooms, only to find a long line outside the ladies bathroom. You’ve had too many drinks to wait for 20 minutes; you’re just about ready to make a puddle in the club right now.

You decide to make your way to the male bathroom and barge in, throwing the men in the quarters off guard. 

"I’ve seen it all before, there’s nothing you have that could shock me. Eu eu? Eu só tenho que fazer xixi! (Me me? Me just have to pee)" You exclaim as you walk in. You were 100% sure what you said didn’t make sense, but that was the least of your worries.

The male clubgoers in the bathroom remark sentences to you in Portuguese that you couldn’t make out, but they clearly weren’t pleased, apart from the flirty foreign catcalls and whistles in the mix.

Most of the men clear the room when you entered and you lean against the wall next to a urinal, waiting for a free stall. Out of the corner of your eye, you can just make out the frame of a tall somebody.

You dare to look, finding that tall somebody to be the sexy stranger who bought you the row of cocktails. "Oh…my…god. Fuck." You think, as he lines himself up with the urinal right next to you.

You knew he was attractive but didn’t know he was this fine. It was almost criminal how beautiful he was up close. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your core starts setting off fireworks. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to snap yourself back to reality, but your eyes remained on his beauty.

He lifts his shirt, revealing his marbled abs. He was cut to perfection. A body so heavenly sculpted, it would put Michelangelo’s work to shame. Your eyes fall to his curled snail trail as he unbuttons his belt, peeling the hem of his boxers down. 

He stands completely oblivious to you gawking, as if you blended in with the neon lights and concrete restroom wall. A breeze of his vanilla musk cologne sucks you right back in, and that’s all it takes for you to go feral. Your eyes shamelessly flock down to his manhood, catching a glimpse of just how much wood he was packing.

A low gasp leaves your mouth. You couldn’t hold it back. His member was a shocking 9 inches of lust and astonishing girth. Even on soft, he had a weapon that could demolish your walls, which were already flooded with your slick. Your heartbeat begins racing, matching the beat of your pulsing clit, which had become its own entity at this point, yearning to be fiddled with and sucked on by him.

You look away to hold on to whatever was left of your dignity. Yet when you look ahead, you automatically glue to his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his back muscles flexing as he takes care of his business.

You tightly press your thighs together, trying to put a damper on waves of juices drenching your thong. He chuckles, a sly smirk on his lips. You quickly look away, knowing damn well he caught you out. Heat flushes your cheeks as you throw your hand over your face in embarrassment.

“Shit.” you murmur.

"Eu te mostro o meu se você me mostrar o seu. ('ll show you mine if you show me yours.)"

His voice was deep and warm, inviting even. You didn’t understand what he was saying, but whatever it was, you liked it. 

“Oh- I…shit. I’m sorry!” You apologize, not able to find words for your behavior.

He tilts his head and finally looks at you, smug written all over his face while putting his goods away and zipping up.

“I didn’t mean to look.”

You definitely did.

“I’m just waiting to use the toilet. The line for the women's toilet was packed. I, ah… eu preciso urinar? (I need to use the toilet.)”

He shakes his head, laughing at your attempt to speak his language. He walks over to the sink, not saying a word nor responding to your dramatics. Judging by his silence, you can only assume there was a language barrier.

Going off the fact that he or anyone else in the restroom wasn’t processing a single english word you were saying, you thought, “Fuck it. No one's listening anyways,” then went on to babble your train of thoughts out loud.

“Why? Why do these things happen to me? Why couldn’t I just mind my business? No, I had to be nosy.” 

He watches you in the reflection of the mirror while washing his hands with a pleased look plastered on his face. You want to run away and hide, but his gaze is pouring unholy thoughts into your mind and you like all the nasty things he was making you think.

You just want him to take you to an alley behind the club, pull your skirt up and put all his 9 inches inside you. You know it would hurt, he's too big, he’d leave you creamed with rug burns for days - you're sure of it.

You snap back to reality when a door to one of the toilers opens, and a man exits. Still thinking out loud, you drunkenly narrate to yourself, burping out giggles here and there as you enter the stall.

You relieve your bladder and wipe multiple times, having to thoroughly clean up the vat of slick on your slit. The disgustingly horny effect he had on your body was evident. You were a mess. Drenched panties, swollen clit, and stained inner thighs from your juices. Even your asshole was lubed up enough to pop a plug in.

“What the fuck? I must be ovulating because how did he make me this wet?…There’s so much, so much…”

After using a week's worth of toilet paper, you flush and head out. The nameless sex god was still present, adjusting his chain in the mirror.

You sigh in frustration, walking towards the sink furthest away from him. You can’t help but feel the nasty sting of regret from your sloppiness. He was by far the most attractive person you’ve seen in your entire life. You're sure any chance with him is out of the picture, all because of your cocktail-fueled actions. You're gutted. Although, it doesn’t hurt to look at him. Shit, if anything, it feels good to look at him, you thought.

Pressing the dispenser for soap, his reflection in the mirror is all you can focus on. Your mindless narration isn’t done; you still have thoughts that need to be spoken out loud.

“I just know that dick is crazy. I would’ve fucked the breaks off him.”

You hear the beautiful stranger snort.

"For what it’s worth, I’d rate your Portuguese pretty good for a foreigner." He says, this time in clear English, looking back at you in the mirror.

Your muscles tense up, and your breathing comes to a hitch. God, no…he understood English the entire time? What the fuck.

You can’t believe it. The possibility of him listening to every crazy thought you word vomited out was too much to process.

“And,” he walks over to you, nearing so close you were engulfed in his cologne and could feel heat radiating off his body, “I’d fuck the breaks off you too.”

An English accent drips off his words like honey. You're just about filled to the brim with surprises, but you’d let him fill you even more if it meant hearing that sexy accent moan your name.

“I didn’t mean to say that. I thought you didn’t speak English.”

He places his hand on the wall behind you and leans his face down to yours.

“I beg to differ. I think you did mean it.”

“It was an accident.”

“Right. I think I recall hearing, “How’d he get me so wet?” Was that also an accident?”

You swallow hard, feeling the pulse in your core pick back up.

“Acci-Yes. Accident.” You stutter.

His eyes wander down to your nether region.

“Well, I’d love to taste this accident.”

Fuck, he was smooth.

He retracts his hand from behind you with a fist of paper towels and dries his hands.

You're speechless. So much happened in a matter of seconds that you were lost for words, your mouth fell open but not a single word came out.

He laughs and leaves for the door, leaving you there standing in a state of shock. Your gaze shifts back to the mirror, your face was red and you were almost shaking of pure embarrassment. Before you could debrief and gather yourself, you hear his voice again.

“So, you coming or what?” He leans against the door with an awaiting look on his face.

You look around the bathroom to see who else he would be talking to. There was no one else in view, only you. He wanted you and he was making it obviously clear. You point towards your chest and mouth, “Me?”

“Who else, a namorada? (Sweetheart)”

Goddamnit. That's all you needed to hear.

You take no time to jump to the opportunity and follow the stranger out of the bathroom. He takes your hand which was twice the size of yours and leads you through the cramped crowd of the club. You didn’t bother to ask where he was taking you, you’d follow this man anywhere, anyday.

He guides you to a red VIP queue barrier and nods to the security guard.

“She’s with me. Also another girl.”

He scans the crowd behind you and points out Nia in the crowd to which the guard nods and heads in amongst the dancing bodies towards Nia’s direction.

He whispers in your ear, “Your sister, right?”

You smile. How sweet of him to remember Nia, you like that kind of consideration in a man.

“Sim (Yes), little sister. Thanks for inviting her too.”

His hand was still clasped with yours, he gently squeezed it and flashes you a wink.

You wave at Nia who was now following the guard towards the VIP area you were in, she waves back at you and starts giggling once she sees you with the sexy stranger from the bar. She knows your type, so she knows you’ll be glued to him all night.

You bring you attention back to him and he continue walking down a hall behind the section, and guides you to a room. It was empty besides the aisle of liquor on the wall and couches and seats. You let go of his hand and walked in the room, it was much more fancy and well decorated compared to the rest of the club.

“So what’s this room used for?”

“Depends on the occasion.”

“Is this a part of the package for the section you were in?”

“No.” He clicks the door locked.

You walk to the bar, eyeing down your drink of choice.

“So we’re stealing rooms tonight, are we?”

“My best mate owns the club. We can go to any room of your choosing. I just thought a pretty lady like yourself deserved the best one.”

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words. He was charming, but there was something genuine about the way he spoke to you that made you feel special…and seen.

"Well, I appreciate the gesture. So what do you recommend we do in this fancy room of yours?"

"I can think of a few things," he murmurs.

Before you could grab yourself a glass, you feel his body near behind you. You were stuck between him and the bar and it felt amazing to be against his body.

Your heart races as he leans in closer. He clearly wanted you right now but you weren’t gonna give it up that easily, you already made it too well known how eager you were in the bathroom, it’s time to slow down this burn. His breath is hot against your ear.

"But first, let's have a drink. What can I get for you?"

He grabs the glass you were going for and digs into the ice bucket in the sink with it.

“Tequila. And let’s start with the basics...names. We don’t even know eachothers names.”

“I mean I was fine with callin’ you a minha rapariga.”

He grabs the bottle of 1800 on the top shelf.

“And that means?”

“My girl. But I’d love to put a name to your beautiful face”

You snort.

“Good one. It’s Y/K.”

“Y/K? Oh Y/K. I like the way that feels on my lips.”

He pours the 1800 into the glass, no mixer.

“And yours?”

He rotates your hips so you were now facing him, a smirk on his face.

“Alfie, my mates call me Al.”

He moves closer to you, his hand resting on the bar beside yours. "You know, I've been watching you all night," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And I have to say, I've never had anyone steal my attention like you."

Alfie pulls your hips closer to his and lifts the drink up to your lips to which you swallow. He doesn't pull away, he continues feeding you the alcohol until it was finished. You shiver at the sensation, feeling a rush of desire wash over you. 

“All, all, all of it. Good girl.”

The alcohol burned your throat but you didn’t wince, there was something about him talking you through it that gave you all the motivation to stomach the tequila.

Alfie places the glass on the counter and leans in, his lips hovering just inches away from yours.

You feel his breath on your skin and your heart races in anticipation.

"Can I kiss you, Y/K?" he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You nod your head, unable to find your voice as your eyes lock onto his. With a gentle touch, he cups your face in his hands and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is fiery, sending a jolt of desire through your body as his tongue traces your lips, seeking entrance. You open your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss as he pulls you closer to him.

His hands roam over your body, tracing the curve of your hips and the swell of your breasts through your clothes. You moan softly into his mouth as he pulls away, his eyes dark with desire.

"God, you're so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do this all night to you" he murmurs, his hands trailing down your body to the hem of your dress. With a swift motion, he pulls it up and over your head, leaving you standing there in your underwear.

You blush at his intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of him. But his eyes soften as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze tracing every curve and dip of your body.

"Perfect," he says, his voice filled with admiration.

He steps forward, his hands tracing the outline of your body as he presses his lips to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as he moves lower, his hands trailing down your sides to your hips.

He hooks his fingers into your underwear and pulls them down, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze. You feel a rush of heat between your legs as he dips his head down, his tongue flicking over your clit, overwhelming you in waves of ecstasy.

Your back spans against the bar as you let out a cry of pleasure, your fingers going over his buzz cut hair while he continues to pleasure you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect unison, slurping on your clit and tugging on your g-spot in perfect movement. You feel your body start to tense, your orgasm building as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Alfie," you moan, your hips bucking against his mouth as you finally fall over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure.

He stands up, a satisfied grin on his face as he takes in the sight of you, sated and blissed out.

"Ready for round two, Bebê (Baby)?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nod, unable to resist the allure of this gorgeous stranger as he picks you up from the bench and places you on one of the couches, eager to explore every inch of your body.

You lean in, pressing your lips against his ear, "I want you to make me cream," you whisper.

He grins, "I can do that," he replies before capturing your lips in a kiss.

You can feel his hands sliding down your body, his fingers trailing over every curve and dip. You moan into the kiss as his fingers, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands continue to explore your body. You feel his teeth graze against your skin and you let out a whimper, your body already tingling with pleasure.

He pulls back, a wicked grin on his face. "You like that, don't you?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

You can only nod, lost in a haze of desire and lust.

He leans in, his hot breath caressing your inner thigh before his tongue makes contact with your core. You gasp, your hands gripping onto the cushions as he begins to work his magic.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building inside of you. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, he stops.

You open your eyes, looking down at him with a pleading expression.

"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I'm just getting started."

He stands up, his eyes locked on yours as he starts to undress. Slowly, he removes his shirt, revealing a toned chest and abs that make your mouth water, the way he’s built he definitely had to be an athlete, his arms were chiseled to perfection. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him, feeling a delicious anticipation building inside of you.

He climbs onto the couch, positioning himself above you as he leans in for another kiss. This time it's deeper, more urgent, and you can feel his need for you as his tongue takes over your mouth.

His hands roam over your body, teasing and caressing as he works his way down to your pussy, before positioning himself at your entrance.

He enters you slowly, his body pressing against yours as he begins to move in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, and you can feel yourself building towards an explosive orgasm already.

“I’m already cumming!” You moan.

“I know baby, I know.” He groans while his eyes are closed shut, lost in the pure pleasure of your sex.

He picks up the pace, his movements becoming faster and more intense as you both reach the brink of release. And when you finally come undone, he's there to catch you, holding you tightly as you ride the waves of ecstasy, grinding against each other's bodies together.

When it's over, you lay there, panting and spent, wrapped in his arms. You look up at him, feeling a deep sense of connection and satisfaction that words could never fully describe. He leans back and looks down between you two, at the mess you made on his dick

"Look at that. That’s all for me, huh?" He says, a smirk spreading across his face.

You look away smiling, feeling vulnerable and whisper, “Yeah, only you.”

He chuckles, his hand stroking your hair. "I aim to please," he replies, a contented look on his face.

Just as Alfie leans back into your slit for round 2, there’s an abrupt knock at the door.

“Fuck!” you mutter under your breath, reaching for your panties and dress which was scattered across the floor.

Alfie stands up and fixes his pants which had a sight of hard pulsating wood. He quickly fixes it so it was tamed down before checking in with you.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yes, who’s at the door?” You say fixing up your shoulder straps.

Alfie walks to the door, unlocking it to find a security guard waiting.

“Estamos fechando quartos. Só verificando os quartos. Tudo bem Al? (We're closing rooms. Just checking. You all good Al?)” The security asks.

“Sim, estávamos prestes a sair. (Yeah, we was just about to leave.)” Alfie responds while motioning for you to come over to him.

You follow Alfie out the room back to the open space of the club to the VIP area which was filled with Alfie’s friends and Nia, who was busy chatting up with a boy on the couches. This girl was on fire! Well, who are you to be judging, you just got your cat demolished out by a man you just met.

As you walk towards the VIP area, you sit yourself down next to Nia.

“Girl, I know you didn’t just do what I think you did.” Nia says in your ear.

“What are you talking about? We just talked and drank.”

“Oh really?”

Nia catches your eye and gives you a knowing smile, “Babe. Your dress is on inside out.”

You feel a little embarrassed, but more so exhilarated at the thought of people knowing he gave you probably the best dick of your life.

“Oh my god. Okay you got me there!” You laugh off the awkwardness. Nia rubs your back, laughing too.

“It’s okay, we’ve all been there before.”

Alfie makes his way back over to you and introduces you to his friends, who all seem friendly and welcoming. They offer you drinks and chat with you about Carnival and asked questions about America. Most of them spoke English along with Portuguese which made it easy to connect with them, they were lovely and easy to get along with. But your mind keeps drifting back to the intense chemistry you shared with Alfie just a few moments ago.

As the night wears on, you find yourself getting more comfortable around Alfie's friends. They share stories and jokes, and you can't help but laugh and enjoy yourself. But every time Alfie touches you or leans in to whisper something in your ear, you feel a jolt of electricity course through your body.

Eventually, it's time for the club to close. Alfie offers to walk you out, and you gladly accept. As you exit the club, It was almost sun up outside and the nearby cafes and business’s were beginning to open for the day. He takes your hand and pulls you close. "I had a great time tonight," he says, looking deep into your eyes, “I hope to do this with you again sometime, a minha rapariga (My girl)”

"Me too," you reply, feeling your heart rate increase.

Alfie leans in and kisses you, and for a moment, it feels like the world fades away. It's just you and him, lost in each other's embrace amongst the rest of the noise. And as you break the kiss, Nia calls your name.

“Y/K, our ubers here!”

You pull to let go but he hesitates to release his grasp, squeezing your waist tight.

“I have to go…” You shyly say, pulling from his arms. Feeling giddy, you run to the car Nia hopped in and get in the back seat

“Get home safe.” He says, waving you down before throwing his hands in the air and yelling, “Wait, I didn’t even get your number! What’s your instagram?!”

You stick your head outside the window, “It’s Y/KsWorld!”, hoping he heard you. By the smile on his face, it seemed he did because he quickly pulls out his phone and tapped away. Not even 2 seconds later you felt a buzz on your lap and there was a notification: LewisAl88 followed you.

You fall back into the seat, smiling to yourself. You was exhausted and it wasn’t just from the jet-lag, he blew your back out into another time-zone himself. Sure it was just a hook up at the club, which is something you’ve never done before in your life, but you couldn’t deny the tension between the two of you. 

You feel another buzz from your phone.

LewisAl88 sent you a message

When am I gonna see you next? 

You laugh to yourself, here you thought you were the thirsty one yet he was just as keen to be all over you. Ahhh, that feels like balance to me, you thought.

“What’s got you smiling so hard?” Nia asks.

You show her the notifications on your phone screen, she covers her mouth and joins you in laughter.

“Oh he wants you…bad!”

You roll your eyes, but can't help the smile that creeps onto your face. "I don't know," you say, "I just met him. But there was definitely something there."

Nia nods, understanding. "Well, whatever happens, just be safe and have fun," she says, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze.

You nod, grateful for her words of encouragement. As the car drives away from the club, you lean back in your seat and close your eyes, replaying the night's events in your mind.

[puppetmaster13u]

Pfft. It's less of choosing when to stop aging, and more of just, a mixture of the magic and curses- and the Flash's constant timeline resetting, that they'd very much like them to stop.

Not helping is that they do seem to age slower and randomly. Like mentioned in a previous reblog, no one knows quite how old the Wayne children are. Only that they're young enough to still live with their parent. Or parents after the wedding with Talia & Selina.

Also not helping for Outsiders is that Gotham has a completely different culture compared to their surroundings. The reason so many laws are broken is because well, they're practically a sovereign state, just not legally. And some people experience bloodlust if they haven't gone hunting. Like Dick? Somewhere around nineteen, that's what everyone who doesn't know his age agrees on. Which outside of Gotham, makes him legally an adult. Inside Gotham though, most don't leave their parents, or rather their Pack-Pod, until their twenties. And even then, they usually don't move far, unless they're moving to another pod. It's very strange to Outsiders.

OH! You know what? I bet news doesn't often get out of Gotham like, in a timely manner. Especially things like newspapers. Bet it's a random toss on if they get information a few weeks late to a few years. Hence why everyone knows about how Bruce is an orphan, and that his parents were killed when he was eight, but not when that was. I bet there's people who've tried to calculate it- the man is literally the richest person in the world and famous.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Another set of tags by @internet-m0m which are hilarious.

Bruce probably waves from under the bat-cape. "Hey Bill, need an umbrella?" Like you said, this is a normal day for them. I wonder if the League thinks they got hit with Fear Gas or something at first and triple check back up on the Watchtower because surely that's not right, there must be something in their systems, right? They didn't... actually see what they thought they did.... right?

Though that does raise the question on if everyone knows who the Bat is thanks to well, same eldritch merfolk form. They just also can't do shit because like, Gotham might have the highest crime rate, but most murders are outsiders and tourists. Other Gothamites are hardy AF, and have straight up adapted to the many poisons and chemical attacks. Which is why the rogues keep having to create new and stronger strains.

Pfft. We already know several kids and teens of Gotham are in on the pranking the passing Atlanteans (So maybe it's pranking Gotham-style but still, it's funny!) but are there adults involved to lmao.

Bruce, to one of his work friends: -and then Aquaman called our lovely water a horrid sewer-filled death trap, how rude!

The rest of the workers who came because he always brings snacks from Alfred whenever he comes into work in person: *Scandalized Gasping*

Though if he is known as Batman, that'd mean things like the Court of Owls would have to be taken care of.... At least mostly. Hm.... (Oh dang is this.... plot? In the funny eldritch mer post? I Think it is) (Or does he just smile shyly and bashfully rub his neck as he admits it's a bit too big to change indoors.) .... Oh my god do you think there'd be galas where they show off clothing and jewelry specifically for merfolk forms? Like a pool party but somehow classy?

Also you can't tell me that Gotham doesn't have the largest goth clothes industry. (Ethically sourced & created because No One wants to deal with the giant kelp monster that is Poison Ivy, even if she chills a little once Harley leaves the Joker & they move in together)

Mermay Special Prompt 3

“Are you kidding? No one goes to Gotham, that place is like,” Aquaman made a motion with his hand, a not-quite grimace on his face. “Like things should not be living in the water, like it should be impossible, and things should be dead, but they aren’t and it’s like, like the equivalent of an undead apocalypse over there!” 

Bruce rolled his eyes behind his cowl, taking a sip of his coffee as the others continued drinking. Socialize, they said, it’ll be fine they said. Well excuse him, but the waters weren’t that bad. Sure there were always dumped bodies, and chemicals from the rogue attacks, but it was far worse at one point.

One thing he’ll always be relieved for is how the… curse (thank you broken statuette back in the beginning of his vigilante career that fused with the other many curses of Gotham) made the people of Gotham actually care about the waters around them. 

Though also, he couldn’t help but thank anything that might be listening for the fact that the curse only interacted with Gotham waters, because losing legs with any risk of a drop of water would be downright annoying. 

“No dude, you don’t understand, no one goes there for a reason! That shit is horrific- someone saw a big thing with bits of rebar stabbed straight through it and still chased after a big alligator-thing!” Oh. Oh that had been him. Oops. Hopefully his kids didn’t find out about this, but they were probably already on the cameras. Dammnit. 

[l-starlight-l]

Meeting the brothers

A/n: it’s been foreverrrre since I posted, but I’m thinking about making a cute series of smaller story’s that all go together.

Description: Jason finally can get everyone out of the manor so you two can have alone time, but it doesn’t last long.

Pairings: Jason Todd x reader

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:Reference:

——————————————————————————

Jason had finally invited you over to his father’s manor. You were so excited, you had heard stories about how Luxurious it was. When you got there all the excitement in your stomach turned to anxiety. The place was huge, and I mean like castle huge. What we’re your boyfriends fancy rich family gonna think of not so fancy you. You took a few deep breaths and knocked in a harmonious pattern on the oak door. After a minute a kind looking old man in a butlers outfit opens the door.

“Ah you must be miss y/n” he greets you with a smile

“Oh um yes I’m here to see Jason” you mutter feeling very shy. They’re so rich they have a butler, this is crazy.

“He’s in the Library, I’m quite suprised how hard he worked to get you here. The rest of the family is out of the house” he said with a small smirk, he held the door while you walked into the manor.

A sigh of relief fell over you when he said that it would only be you and Jason here. You were only a little intimidated by the stories he would tell you about his family. You stepped through the doors and were taken back by the beauty of the inside. It was decorated with such style and absolutely spotless. You took another deep breath, a warm aroma filled your nose. It was the smell of fresh baked cookies, a smile spread across your lips at the thought of tasting Alfred’s famous cookies.

“If you walk down this hall” Alfred said gesturing towards a very long hallway, “the library is the last door on the left”. You thanked him for the direction and you made your way to Jason. When you got to the end of the hallway, you stood in front of doors two times as tall as you. You pushed the very heavy door open and walked into the book filled room. There you saw Jason sitting in a very comfy looking chair with his nose deep in a book. He looked up when he heard the door close behind you. He met your eyes with a smile, god you loved his smile. He closed the book and got up to great you.

“Hey sweetheart” he said with love while pulling you into a hug. He kissed the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around his firm torso. “I was just finishing that book I was reading yesterday” he said with joy.

You released from the hug and looked up at him, “you’re so amazing” you say dumb found.

He laughs and looks back down at you smirking. “how so” he questions.

You spread out your arms showing the huge bookshelves that cover three walls of the room and go up to the ceiling. “I mean look at this room, it’s huge” you laugh and spin taking in the library. “And you have a butler, you are soooo rich” you stop your spin and look at him, “and you’re kind and handsome” you smile and gaze at him. His toned body, his jet black hair with an adorable streak of white, his beautiful eyes. Everything about him is so overwhelming.

You slowly walk over to him, cup his face and give him a quick kiss. You go to release from the kiss but he grabs you pulling you back in. The kiss deepens and you both stumble over to the couch in the middle of the room. You fall back hitting the couch and he stands over you. He leans towards you for another kiss when there’s a knock on the door. You pop up now standing next to Jason.

“Relax sweetheart it’s just Alfred” he says putting a soothing hand on the dip of your back. The door opens and Alfred is standing there with a tray of cookies. Your body relaxes and you smile at the man.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ve brought snacks” he apologizes while setting the tray down on a side table by the door. He turns back towards the door, “call me if you need me”. He leaves with a kind nod to you and Jason.

You gaze at the door and then at the table with the cookies. Jason walks over to the tray and picks it up “care for a picnic my lady” he says with a wink. You giggle and nod. he points to a tan colored blanket, “Take that blanket on the couch we can set it up outside”. You grab it and follow him out the back doors in the library that leads to the Wayne manor gardens.

You lay the blanket down in a peaceful grassy area and Jason places the tray down in the middle of the picnic blanket. He pulls you down to sit with him. “Stop being so nervous, it’s just us” he places a gentle kiss on your forehead and offers you a cookie. “Your house is just so big, it’s intimidating” you say as you take a bite of the cookie. “Oh my god these are so good” you say looking up at Jason who’s smiling down at you. “Alfred is the best baker I know” he smirks, “I asked him to bake you a special batch” he winks and lays on his back.

You finish the cookie and lay down beside him. Your head resting on his chest while y’all look at the cloudy sky. You point at a weird shaped cloud, “that one kinda looks like a flower”. Jason smiles and points at another cloud, “and that one’s shaped like a Robin”. You both laugh and continue your little game. You sit back up to grab another cookie. You turn back to look at Jason whose still laying down looking at the sky. “Wanna smoke” you ask him. “Of course I do sweet heart” he sits up and grabs his lighter. He puts a cigarette between your lips and lights it. You watch him as he does it, he’s beautiful. You breath in and inhale the smoke, then breath it out. You pass it to Jason and lay back down. Jason leans over you and kisses you, it startles you but you kiss him back. He deepens the kiss and you wrap you arms around his neck.

You two are now heavily making out. He’s completely on top of you and all your nerves have disappeared. You’re only focusing on him and how hot it is when he towers over you like this. Lost in each other you don’t realize you’ve been caught. Water sprays at you and soaks Jason. He jumps up and you sit there in shock, barely wet due to Jason being on top. You look up to and see Alfred and Tim standing there watching you two. You blush seeing a hose in Alfred hand and Tim laughing his ass off.

“What the fuck” Jason yells in anger. Alfred shakes his head

“master Todd there is no smoking and you know that”. You roll over and hide in your hands super embarrassed. Jason crouches down and puts a hand on your back.

“Come on let’s go inside sweetheart, I’m so sorry about this” he helps you up and smiles at your bright red face.

As you are walking into the manor a dark haired boy a little older than you laughs and says “quiet the show you were putting on out there”. Jason’s looks furious “shut up dick”. Jason takes you to a guest room so you can both clean up and dry off. Once your cleaned up he introduces you to his two brothers who has came back from a mission earlier then expected. You got along with him quite well and became closer to Jason.

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[headingalaxys-spicy]

How do you think America, Canada, Sweden and Denmark would react to an s/o who thinks it’s amusing to flirt and tease them but basically pops a blood vessel any time it happens to them?

Since you didn’t say Yandere. I’m not going to write it as such.

I’ll add Swedens part in the morning. It’s 1:30am and I have no idea how the hell it got that late.

🇺🇸America 🇺🇸

He loves you but his ego is the size of Jupiter. Anyone who’s not aware that the two of you are together must have been living under a rock. It’s difficult to ignore his faux sweet/menacing stare from across the room with the person who’s trying to impress you. Within 5 minutes or less they will feel his vibrant blues staring back as he approaches.

“Hey there nice to meet you Alfred F. Jones. Nice to meet you. I’m y/n’s s/o.”

He’s going to grip the living hell out of the person who was flirting with you. For the rest of the night, Alfred will be stuck to you like glue and he will embarrass you. He will introduce himself to anyone you talk to as your hero.

When others flirt with him.

Your blood is basically hot lava when you see many who flock to him. He’s an attractive blonde and that’s the price you pay for it. Because people want Mo-moa him. He’ll allow people to fawn over him until he sees your cute face practically overflowing with magma and steaming coming out of your ears. He’ll waltz over to you and won’t be Loki in his endeavors to embarrass you in a sweet way.

“Ladies and Gentlemen meet the one who is Robin my heart y/n my cute S/O!” He’ll kiss you delicately on the lips as people take photos, gasp, pout, or stare in awe at the spectacle.

🇨🇦 Canada 🇨🇦

If you managed to get into a relationship with sweet maple boy, then congratulations he trusts you and that's a rare thing for someone who’s been abandoned so often. Meaning he does have enough self-esteem to let people flirt with you without the overwhelming fear that someone will take you from him. He’ll glance in your direction every once in a while. If you body language reads as neutral he’s not going to worry about you. Remember this mans has got faith in you. And no one wants to see sweet Mattie cry. He eventually wanders over to you and sees what is going on in your conversation. When it’s confirmed that you’re not taking the bait that the person is giving out Matthew is likely to relax. His savaged heart is soothed. He will give you a quick peck on the cheek. But trust me when I say that the person whos flirting does get a slightly dirty look from his violet irises.

When people try to flirt with him

It’s going to fly over his head. He won’t understand the subtle cues too well.

Also, you won his heart by being over the top and giving him a teddy bear.

Or he will make it really obvious that he’s disinterested that the has a cute S/O and will proceed to talk about you at length.

By the time you approach him the steam coming from your ears has subsided and replaced with slight embarrassment. You wanted to say something scathing to the person who dared to try and take your man. But considering they’re already getting an earful about how you're his sweet maple you don’t see the need to say anything.

🇩🇰Denmark 🇩🇰

Another who is confident in you and the relationship that you share. He’s the life of the party and plenty of people surround him as they gawk at his antics. He may be a party animal but that does not me he does not have his eyes on you through the duration of the party. He will saunter over to you and your talking partner and interject.

“WHOS DOWN FOR A COMPETITIVE DRINKING GAME!” His laugh fills your ears and leaves a ring.

The game is Cards Against Humanity with a twist: Whoever wins each round has to take a shot of Akvivit. Whether or not you consider that punishment or reward is up to you. I drink like an Irishman so you better believe I’m tryna win. I hope you have a strong liver because this spiky-haired blonde knows how to keep a party going until dawn.

When people flirt with him

He’s going to shrug them off and try to steer the conversation in a different direction. If the person that is flirting with him continues to try to score with him. He’s going to get weird with them and start talking about how Ikea furniture can turn into a superhero robot. To make it even more awkward he will do dumb poses and insist on getting that person drunk.

“Hey! Bartender! can I get some of the strongest shit you got!?”

When he sees you careening toward shim with rage in your eyes he will be curt with that person and likely leave them drunk out of their mind. Also, Matthias is horny as hell a lot of the time and he wants his booty when he gets home and he will do anything not to jeopardize that.