#it was all very... stuff i was already tired of seeing on tumblr and i didn't think i'd get anything new out of

[playingonedchess]

characters: lets live together

people on tumblr: this of course means theyre canonically having sex, no what are you talking about i dont do headcanons my blog is all stuff based on canon

[starlit-mansion]

i still keep getting recommended posts about the james somerton debacle (unsurprising) and i swear to god, at this point i've spent more time trying to remember what my reaction was to watching his yoi video a while back while half-sleep deprived or smth than i a) spent watching the video and b) spent thinking about any other creator i watched one mid video from and ignored after

[gojomamashouse]

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.

Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.

A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.

3.7k words

18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!

You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.

"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"

"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”

Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.

—

Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.

A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.

“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”

Just let me take care of it.

A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.

He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.

His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.

“What’s this?” He picked it up.

“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”

There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.

You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.

“Let me help with that,” he said.

—

You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.

But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.

“Mike?”

He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.

“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”

In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.

“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”

You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.

“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”

“Why?”

You avert your gaze.

“I just do.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.

“Because this feels like home.”

The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.

You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?

“Let me take care of you. Please?”

He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?

The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.

“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.

Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.

“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.

“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.

“Then talk to me.”

“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”

“You started a fight, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.”

He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”

“You don’t need to pay me.”

“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”

He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.

Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.

He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.

“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.

“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.

“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”

He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.

“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”

You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.

“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”

You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?

He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.

“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”

He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.

You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.

He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.

He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes.

“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”

Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.

He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.

“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“

Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.

“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

He hears you laugh.

“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”

“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”

He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.

—

You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.

You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.

“Abby, go away!”

“No! Let me—“

“What’s all this?” You interject.

Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.

“Abby, I can explain—“

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”

[stjohnstarling]

When you think about it, the success (relatively speaking) of What Manner of Man is kind of miraculous. I have no social media presence outside of Tumblr (not for lack of trying! I just utterly do not have the knack,) no connections, and I've already given the book away for free. I simply have not written this book in a way that gets me anywhere with BookTok, Bookstagram, the Facebook communities of Kindle Unlimited readers - any of the online indie publishing infrastructure.

And yet it’s been wonderful! In some ways, writing this book has gone indescribably better than I ever dreamed it could. Every day I'm floored by the number of people who’ve read What Manner of Man and cared enough to help it along. The little community of friends and readers this story has gathered around it is one of the best experiences I’ve ever had creatively.

Now that the book is about to be irrevocably published, though, I’ve become wracked with doubts. What if it’s still not enough? What if all the people who’ve read and enjoyed the free version of the novel vanish tomorrow in a puff of smoke, and I have to start again from scratch with a more conventional publishing model? What if my subject matter is just too transgressive/queer/kinky/blasphemous and I have to pivot to writing something that’s less of all of those things? What if I run headlong into the woods and get torn apart by coyotes? Etc.

Listen, I’m going to be so real with you guys right now. I hate all ads with a deep, personal hatred, and I loathe and despise writing self-promo stuff. It’s by far the worst part of this job. But this is a very weird, risky thing I’ve done, and I need to make an appeal to Tumblr for help. For this to work - for this risk to pay off - I basically need enough people to 1. buy the e-book and 2. leave reviews on Amazon and Goodreads within a certain timeframe to catch the favor of the evil god known as The Algorithm. If that happens, I might be able to sell enough copies to enable me to continue doing this.

Without further ado, therefore - if:

You're tired of being sold safe, sexless, sanitized, advertiser-friendly queerness in stories 

You want more art that embraces uncompromisingly queer, transgressive desire

You view - now, more than ever, in this moment of religious backlash towards all manner of sexual expression - sexual freedom as inseparable from queer liberation

(And you want to see that explored in metaphor via a vampire seducing a priest)

Then may I present... ✨ What Manner of Man ✨

(Now with a beautiful cover by @beastliness!)

You can read the draft version for free here, and, if you enjoy it, acquire the completed version from your preferred retailer or DRM-free on my itchio store.

If you've made it to the end, thank you for reading all that 💜 (and thank you in advance if you decide to share it!)

[taigarrryen]

In the hallway of Sheriff-2, about twenty minutes after the landing, Skizz is shakily making his way from his cabin back to the main deck, bag on each shoulder. He looks like he was fighting for his life just minutes ago, tired and pale. He really doesn't like having to deal with zero-gravity.

Norman, on the other hand, looks completely unbothered by the mayhem they've been through for the past hour.

From the command room, Jimmy's guiltily smiling face pokes out into the corridor.

JIMMY: There he isss! Look at that confident walk! What a champ. And all packed up already?

SKIZZ: Dude, at this point I'm ready to make a run for it. I swear, if I'll not see land in the next ten minutes...

JIMMY: Alright, alright! Geez. C'mon then, they're already waiting for us anyway. And their stuff. Mainly their stuff.

SKIZZ: Well, hey. I don't know about you, but I'd consider myself anticipated.

JIMMY (looking somewhat pained) : I'd consider you lucky you've never dealt with guys named Grian or Docm not getting their equipment.

Jimmy dissapears in the command room, pushes some buttons, blurts something into his mic and quickly reappears in the hallway.

They go to the main hatch, occasionally throwing one-liners at eachother, and on the way there, from the passing narrow portholes, Skizz sees Minecrea upclose for the first time. Huge, seemingly endless landing pad, pale-green skies and hills, hills, hills with far away mountains... He stops for a moment, mesmerized. There, in the flat field of dark concrete, he notices several unloader bots, parked ELYTRa and a human figure approaching their ship.

Moments later, Jimmy opens a hatch to the entrance compartment. Door unlocks and locks again with a low thump. Entrance compartment fills with greetings. Skizz walks in and smiles.

Smiling back at him is clean-shaved Impulse in an oxygen-filter mask.

IMPULSE: Welcome to Minecrea, man!

Skizz gives him a bear-hug.

SKIZZ: It's so good to see you!

IMPULSE: Yeah, I know! It's been a minute, hasn't it? How was your flight?

SKIZZ: Pfft, fantastic. Easy. When's the next one?

JIMMY: Nah, he did good for the first time!

IMPULSE (with a smirk) : Really? Jimmy, did-

Communicator on Impulse's belt makes a beeping sound.

[???]: Impulse, I'm sorry, but we really need you back here for a moment. It's blinking again...

Impulse shoots a slightly irritated look at it and sighs.

IMPULSE (to communicator) : Got it, we're on our way. Tell X I've turned on unloaders.

IMPULSE: Argh, sorry. You guys arrived in a very... Well, we are kind of in the middle of something here. There's this comet flying by very soon, and all of our scientists are going crazy about it. We're helping them out as best as we can, but... Yeah, a bit of a hassle, anyway.

JIMMY: Oh, that comet? I nearly forgot! Now, excuse me, gentlemen, I was promised a first-class view on this thing three months ago, so let's move.

IMPULSE: Where, at Tango's?

JIMMY: Yes, sir! But I'll come say hi to Grian and Scar anyway.

Impulse reaches and grabs one of Skizz's bags from him. A couple of minutes later, all three of them, equipped with oxygen-filter masks, are making their way to Impulse's ELYTRa, chatting as they go. The concrete under their feet is still warm after contact with nozzles of spacecraft.

Part 1 | AU Intro post

Audio for this post (in a form of a stinky youtube link because tumblr hates fun. Please check it out for full expirience)

[nana-b0b]

》🔞 These panels are censored, you can go to the last of the post to find out where to see them!

A little historical info to better understand:

♡♡♡♡♡!!! I really feel happy and overcome with these panels, I was thinking a lot about how to make them since there were several obstacles: I had never drawn something NSFW before as it should be 😅 I never got that far so to speak, there was always a line that prevented me from taking that step, since it is not the same to draw some small scene where you only see something specific to a whole pose as such and all that implies. But after many ideas and turns I managed to take that step (maybe small for some but for me it was like reaching the moon 😂) and the most important and most feared was that the essence of the drawings and the style would be lost but I could keep it well and make it coexist ♡.

Note: as for the text accompanying the panels I want to say that it's not my best work as a narrator hahaha I don't write anything since I was about fifteen and it was my era of fanfics and stuff, so I feel its very basic and empty! 😅 ♥!

Now, let's talk a bit about the panels! Well, as we all knew this moment was coming, it was no surprise -3- Ryomen really had to be patient to get what he had been thinking for a while, but he didn't want it to be something random as it could be with any woman he wanted, he was really curious to see how Aurora could look like with the full appearance of a lady of the Heian era and when he saw her, he just couldn't resist. One thing will be clear: Aurora won't wear black teeth again, there will be no way to paint her teeth again without someone losing a limb. As for her eyebrows: she's really mad about that, but I'll let it go.

And to close this post I come with a novelty (I've been thinking about this for days) now we are going to be able to have these drawings completely uncensored on patreon.

I'm not going to lie, using more than two social networks for me is already a lot 😥 if it were up to me I would only post everything in one place but we know how the rules are and we have to respect them, if just by showing a nipple (which is a pixel 😂 ) they almost censored me on Instagram I knew this would be difficult and Tumblr is not lagging behind, while there are things that it lets pass there are others that it doesn't and it's not nice to have to make such complex drawings so that the AI doesn't detect them as 🔞 since there comes a certain point that you get tired too and it loses the grace.

My patreon will be the place for all my works 🔞 without any censorship already, you are going to be able to enjoy both public and private content depending on the type of work ♡. I think also for me it's an incentive to be able to start letting go more of my ideas and continue with everything I want to do :)

To say goodbye first I want to always thank you for all the support you give me and all your messages 🖤 and second to warn you that this CAP of Ren will be in patreon already published privately but all the other censored drawings are public for you to see and enjoy them as they should ⭐

Here are the publications that I censored and that you can now see, there are not many at the moment x'D

[the-one-who-lambs]

uhh hello!! sorry if this is a tall order LOL but I wanna ask, do you have any narilamb fanfic recs? :D I already read yours and I really like bamsara’s and I’m waiting for epicaandk’s to update (that one is my fav ever <3) but idk what to read now lol

Tall order?? Naaaaah, I'm always happy to give recs. Oh boy, I'm gonna go in reverse chronological order.

If you've read all of my narilamb fics (have you seriously? I'm impressed, that's probably well over half the 150k+ I've written for this damn fandom. Also, to anyone seeing this from a reblog, my stuff is over at onethirdofimpossible!) then here we go!

You already mentioned it, but The Rehabilitation of Death is excellent so far! This one is by @bamsara who is new to the CotL fandom but apparently not new to fanfic writing; they have a really popular FNAF fic and I assume the well-deserved attention this fic's been getting is a byproduct of the popularity they've already gotten in other fandoms. :D Welcome, bamsara! Many of the fic writers in this fandom are friends with each other already, but we don't bite if you wanna say hi.

Feel No Evil and Language Barrier, both by @payasita. I always love how payasita portrays this duo (in both digital art and writing), with so much sass and repressed loneliness, knowing they're stuck together for eternity and making the best of it. (And maybe falling in love, depending on how dense Narinder keeps being.) What makes these come alive for me is how well thought out the setting is outside the Lamb and Narinder. The descriptions and weight of emotions really pop here.

LITERALLY ANYTHING written by pavi / @i-eat-deodorant. Depending on how spicy you want your fics to be he has even more here. Character analysis, diction, pacing, etc. are consistently 10/10. Top-quality banter between a sassy Lamb and tired old man Narinder. We constantly bounce ideas off each other and inspire each other a lot but I promise I'm not hyping him up just because he's my friend oh my god please just go bless your eyes.

It Was For You, O Death by blueberry-muffin-massacre (if they have a tumblr, let me know so I can tag!). An intriguing alternative ending to the final battle wherein the Lamb chooses a secret third option by refusing to give up the Red Crown and still observing Narinder as the God of Death. So many details are so well thought out and duality their relationship is nicely characterized-- both genuine care for each other and also quite unhealthy. A fine line treaded well!

Confessional by jusmove (again, lmk if they have a tumblr). Been a while since I've read it, but I love how the Lamb chips at Narinder's very carefully built emotional walls. Their personalities are very well fleshed out here, especially Narinder's cognitive dissonance at being able to process love.

Confession by @thewitchoftheweed. I didn't expect a part two to this one, but my god I was so thrilled when it did update. Narinder and Lamb with their unique and parallel loneliness and their fucked-up sense of everything. Their relationship is very rocky here, and I love how they navigate it: with tension and eventual, pained acceptance. Mind the rating.

Of Character Development and Being Dense by @calliecature. A short and sweet narilamb classic. They're both mutually pining and one of them is too emotionally repressed to realize it. Guess who.

Not An Offering, But a Gift by @checkplzjuliet. Small confession fic. I especially love how Narinder's descriptions twist the knife of his situation here, and how Lambert is a total foil for him! There are a lot of good things happening in such a short span, which is impressive.

Also, if you think you've read all my narilamb fics... I do have a secret one out there too. Just so you know.

Happy reading!

I'm already friends with many of the people here, but if any of the writers I've tagged have been kinda wanting to reach out for a while but feel a little anxious... Don't be. I've made my best friends in this fandom by literally just waiting for some of my readers to get over whatever assumption they have that I'm cool and say hi. Or being the more confident one first.

[ihaznoclue]

Hello again! If possible, can I request a reader x Lycaon where the reader has to deal with him being openly flirted with all the time. I've seen this happen in game so much and it makes me wheeze. 😂💖

Thank you again for your time! I truly love reading everything you have written! It's so cool to see how much you have been putting out!!!

Oh I never noticed, but like seriously who wouldn't flirt with him, He's so gorgeous <3 Also thank you so much love <3 I can't believe I posted like over 60 posts already and I feel like I just started yesterday TwT I appreciate the respect and the love everyone has been giving me <3 I think writing my stuff on tumblr was the best choice I ever made at this point

Pairings -> Von Lycaon x Reader

Warnings -> Nothing just Lycaon getting flirted at

Note -> Reader getting jealous because some random girls flirting with their boyfriend but Lycaon comforts his partner, reminding them that he's theirs

Genre -> Fluff

Von Lycaon

This was never a new thing that had happened today, today was a perfect day as you forced Lycaon to get out of the mansion for a bit

But he insisted that he should clean and do his work but you didn't let him as you both were now walking around the park, it wasn't that far from the mansion but you also wanted to go to Lumina square to shop a little

Lycaon agreed as he needed a few things anyways so you both agreed. You both were now crowded with beautiful views as well as building, hearing the chatter of people and their footsteps

Look like it was quite busy today, but that wasn't going to stop you from getting your things you wanted

"Um excuse me" You heard a girl's voice behind you and Lycaon, It had seemed that she was only looking at Lycaon, while she ignored you

Your eyebrows furrowed, Lycaon looked confused. "Yes, young lady" He spoke, which made the girl smiled

"I just wanted to say that you look gorgeous and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?" The girl insisted but was too dumb to realized that Lycaon had a partner already

"Excuse me for my rudeness but I do not plan on hanging out with a stranger" Lycaon spoke as he cleared his throat

"But we don't have to be strangers anymore~ We can become close if you like" She flirted

Okay that was enough, you stepped in just before Lycaon was about to speak

"Listen here, Lady. This wolf Is my boyfriends, and If you can't see that, Than you need to get glasses. Leave us only. Thank you" You then rolled your eyes as you dragged Lycaon with you

Hearing the girl groaned as she stomped away, "Name, That's wasn't very nice-" Lycaonw as cut off

"Ah uh, nope. No one flirts with my man, not even in front of me" You spoke

Looks like you were quite passionate to have Lycaon all to yourself huh?

But he wasn't complaining

This is not proof read because I'm tired

-A<3

[jjoongstar]

𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒆𝒈𝒈

ꕥpairing: chef!wooyoung x reader

ꕥgenre: angst, fluff

ꕥwc: 1.6k

ꕥrating: sfw, pg-13

ꕥa/n: no, there's no fried eggs in here, i just don't know what to name this. yes, i crave fried egg. tbh i was sad and hungry at the same time when i wrote this at like 2 am. thanks to @rems-writing and another friend of mine(she's not on tumblr) for beta reading this. 🍳

your partner left you mid dinner for an emergency meeting. well, this wasn't the first time it happened. you've been thorough this multiple time already and you've lost counted the times you've been stood up by your so called partner, the love of your life.

a tear rolled down your cheek as you cut the steak and stuffs in your mouth. munching while sniffling your sadness away.

even the waiters and staffs knew your situation very well as you've been to this restaurant for years. from the early beginning of your relationship and how it turned out like this. they've all seen how you were left alone, and always alone. they did felt pity for you and had offered more wine on the table as to ease yourself. but still, you'd always have that frown on your face. and tonight, it was your last straw. the waiters that walked passed you gave you a worried look and were too afraid to even approach you. they wouldn't want to break you even more.

"hey she's crying, do something!"

"what can we even do more?"

"that's the first time she shed a tear,"

"yea, i guess she couldn't bottle everything up anymore,"

"i pity her,"

even the cooks went out to seep through the door's lite and talk about you with the others.

you sniff up, wiping the corners of your mouth with the napkin and any tear strains on your face. as a waitress walks near your table, you called out for her nicely even with your croaky voice.

"excuse me, I'm sorry but can i borrow you or any of the waiters or staffs or anybody at all at this point, to just, sit here and…accompany me, please? i beg you for just this once." you pleaded with teary eyes. you knew you sounded so pathetic right now. but you felt so lonely, too lonely and you desperately need someone to just sit here with you. not caring even a stranger. just someone, anyone.

the waitress agreed to your request and assures you she'll be back soon. you exhaled deeply, feeling a little weight ease out of you. later on after around two minutes or so, a man in chef's white pulled the chair in front of you and sat his butt down. he fixes his hair before he smiles widely at you.

"enjoying the food? i made that. well, i always made that specially for you every time so it'll always suit your taste. so, how is it?"

a small bitter smile crept on your face, though it didn't suit your tired eyes, you made an effort to at least answer genuinely to the man's question. you nodded and praised the well cooked meal that's on your plate.

you raise the fork and knife weakly and tried cutting the steak. the man gently place his hands on top of yours to stop your movements and so you did as he lifts up the plate and place it in front of him. at first you thought he stole your dinner but the thought fades away when he started to cut out the meat into small bite sizes.

"i really love your dress. the colour suits your hair and it made your skin pop out more." he praise aloud with a smile on his face. actually, the smile on his face was still there ever since he sat down. you felt a loud thump in your heart. for once, someone said something bout your dress. not even your partner mention anything bout it.

"i noticed its your favourite too since you wore it multiple times already, but not like everyday, more like usually. and it always look so pretty on you. in fact, you look gorgeous everyday! and before you ask, no i'm not lying. i'm being real. legit if you will. you literally are so pretty. its not like i see you everyday but every single time. but its not that your other outfits aren't pretty, they're beautiful too, but this makes you more attractive. BUT not like I'm saying you're less attractive on other days but…ugh, i think you get me?"

you let out a small giggle at him. damn this man yaps a lot. you find him rather amusing and…cute.

"do that again," he place back your plate in front of you and hands you the fork.

"do what?" you asked curiously before picking up a small piece of meat and eats it.

"that! your giggle sounded so adorable, do that again!" he pointed his fingers at you while you savour on the meat in your mouth.

"no," you straight up said to his face while continuing to stuff more food into your mouth.

"please…"

"no,"

"pretty please,"

"no,"

"please just one more time,"

"no,"

"it truly sounded so-,"

"no,"

"please can you-"

"no,"

"do you want me to be here?"

"no…wait, YES uhh no? wait WAIT! no no that's not what i meant, i uhh huhh-"

you were cut off by the hysterical laugh emitted by the person in front of you. he laughed so hard he's hitting the table and threw his head back. you urge him to stop laughing at your mistake but obviously he didn't and instead made fun of you. and due to his addicting laugh, you somehow found yourself laughing along with him for no absolute reason.

"oh god please stop, my stomach hurts, i might puke on your pretty face," you held your hand over the sharp pain on your stomach and wipes away the lone tear at the corner of your eye with the tip of your forefinger.

"you should shed those kind of tears y'know," he said softly after he tones down his laughter.

"yea, i think i deserve better," you mutter out softly.

"you think? nuh uh girl, you DO deserve better. that guy is an asshole, a disgusting lice, he even looks like sid the sloth with that ugly ass haircut, and his posture? don't even get me started, even the hunchback looks better than him. what do you even see in him??!"

you couldn't help but burst out giggling over his insults of your partner. or maybe you should change that to ex-partner now, after knowing your worth.

"please I've told you to stop making me laugh or I'm really gonna vomit out all the food i just ate,"

"ok ok, I'll stop, for now. come, I'll drive you home," he stood up, walks over to you and offers you his hand, assisting you up from your seat.

"are you sure? don't you have work to do?" you asked him as he helped you slip your arms into your coat. you knew he's a chef and the restaurant is still gonna be open for the rest of the night, how could you let him get off work so easily.

"nah its fine, someone will cover up for me. everyone here cares for you and they're more than glad to have me take care of you tonight,"

you took in his words carefully and realised how much his effort did to make you happy tonight.

"are you really leaving work in that attire?" you pointed out to him and he yelped to himself, forgetting his own appearance.

"i'm gonna change real quick, don't run away, I'll be right back. allison, watch her for me, don't let her leave yet!" he exclaimed to the receptionist quickly before he ran back to behind doors and slips himself in. you couldn't help yourself but yet again, chuckles at his behaviour. cute.

he came back to you and your eyes widen at his figure. long loose black slacks with a belt that matches it, chic black shirt with a long dark coat that hung over his broad shoulders, his neck accessories with a long silver necklace with a small simple pendent. he looked so…handsome. even with the messy hair.

you fix his hair right after he stood in front of you and he's catching his breath after his speed run.

"you looked different," you said after fixing the last strand of his hair.

"i know i look hot, i get that a lot," he proudly says to you with a smug on his face. you scoffs at him while smacking his chest and rolling back your eyes.

his car was quite fancy but simple, and it kinda suits him, base on what you've seen of him so far. he opened the door for you but you turn to face him before stepping your foot in.

"wait, i never got to know your name,"

"seriously, only now you wanna know my name? I've been waiting for that question from you," he cocks an eyebrow at you and pulls on another smirk on his face.

"hey! i was too sad to even have the thought to ask of your name!" you pouted playfully at him and he finds your respond adorable, base on the smirk on his face.

"good to know you're not sad anymore now. wooyoung. jung wooyoung," he hands out his right hand to you.

"glad to meet you wooyoung, thank you so much for today, i really appreciate every second of it," you ignored the handshake he offered and instead, you wrap your arms around his body and pulls him into a tight hug.

"sure, i'm more than pleased to make your night wonderful. now in you go princess," he pulls away first and shove you gently into his car.

the whole car ride to your house was full of giggling and endearing voices. getting to know more of each other with silly fun facts and questions. you felt like not wanting to leave him upon arriving to your doorstep. he pulls you into a promising hug. promising to meet up sooner, or later, maybe tomorrow? who knows.

the next date you two are going, you're discussing it through text tonight. and most definitely you ended up falling asleep with a smile on your face, for once after a very long time, over just some silly jokes wooyoung said over text. for once, you felt your heart soaring high up again.

dividers

taglist: @engentiny @seonghw4ffles

networks: @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

[c1oud999]

hi

i just wanted to come on here and talk about my experience with spirituality. warning: longggg post ahead.

basically ive been in the spiritual community for YEARS now. ive had existential crisis since the age of 11 and ive gone through many phases of many different spiritual trends. from law of attraction, to witchcraft, to religious devotion, to law of assumption and now finally non dualism. i read books, meditated for hours and hours, talked to spiritual ppl from all walks of life and watched all the episodes of ganga upanishad (a show i still highly recommend, you can watch on youtube). all this childhood trauma and mental illness made me crave for sweet relief. but nothing really made sense until law of assumption. i thought that that would be it yk. i thought i was done searching but i think that was when i was searching for things the most. i do know i have it in my 4d, when will i see it? i thought i would get all my desires but did not meet success. and then the non dualism trend began and i hopped onto it like pretty much everyone else. i was bewildered at the stuff teachers kept saying. what do you mean everything's an illusion? there's no way that's true. my very real surroundings are causing me VERY real pain and suffering. oh no no there must be a deeper meaning behind all this. and so i read all the books in 4dbarbies drive, but nothing clicked. yes it made sense intellectually, but i didnt want to believe it bc where is the materialisation satisfaction here? also i felt none of the euphoria that was supposed to come with self realisation. which means i must not be a realised being. and then i cried and cried and cried, isolated myself, literally stopped going to school and just lay in bed all day. but ofc, i continued to read the tumblr posts like i had been doing for the past several years. and yesterday i read 4dkelly's post about giving up. it made sense. by the time i had finished reading the post i had truly given up on everything. on wanting, hoping, fearing, striving etc etc. i was SO tired. so i gave up. fell asleep. i woke up really late as usual and missed the school bus. i ate breakfast in silence, switched the tv on and lied down on the couch like always. and like always out of compulsion and force of habit i reached for my phone and looked up non dualism on twitter. and then i came across a tweet that said a simple sentence only- "nothing is ever actually happening." woah. that kinda drove me to the edge of the cliff i desperately wanted to jump off. i turned on some dnb background music and turned the shower on. i stood under the boiling hot water like some dramatic bitch and started piecing together the "puzzle". it all made so much sense now. i got out of the shower and left the house for the first time in months with a cute outfit and makeup on and everything. i went to the mall, bought candles, stickers, eye masks, coffee, and a doughnut with absolutely no social anxiety at all. i sat by window, read some poetry on my e-reader, cried, peered down at the floor below me and cried some more at the sight of little kids sitting on santa's lap and taking pictures and marveled at all the christmas decorations around me. it was insane. i decided i was going to be neutral towards everything but im in love. maddeningly so. in love with this dream that i thought did not love me back. but love is all there is. I AM ALL THERE IS. and i need you to take this literally. there is nothing happening. there is nothing here except you. nothing to fear, nothing to desire. ik a lot of people are going to dismiss this post because it's not a "materialisation success story" but i honestly dont think i can ever want anything physically bc in all its true essence, what is there to materialise? i am already whole and complete. i am lying on this cold hard floor, but i have never felt warmer. also ik there may be a lot of things ive written you might not agree with but again, this is NOT REAL. I AM. i hope this post helps you.

thank you to all the blogs ive come across and all the pointers they have shared: @se1f @realisophie @itgomyway @4dkellysworld @4dbarbie-backup @infiniteko @iamthat-iam and many more i cannot thank enough.

lots and lots of love (more than you can ever imagine), and good luck.

[quantum1mmortality]

Wiggity wack yo(🍋Crewel x Fem! Reader x Sam🍋)

Real not click bait

OKAY AHHHHH so I was told by my boyfriend that tumblr is gonna think im a bot for a bit I can assure you I'm not so im offering this for peace

Okay uhm now back to the fic LOLO

♧CW!! Fem reader, fem pronouns, fem descriptions for body parts, sex with older sexy men yummy, READER IS NOT YUU!!!, reader is like staff or some shit idk make your own shit up i dont care, penis stuff, what stuff? Idk yet your guess is as good as mine, anal AND vagina sex, at the same time btw, threesome or however you spell it M/M/F, yeah you're getting them both at the same time crazy shit ik, I can take them both, what? In a fight? Who said anything about a fight? We get praised, bc my biggest kink is being loved, I love these two, im used to Ao3 im so sorry for how this is formatted, also I hella ship crewel x sam and they will be together in this fic dont you dare think they won't.

Okay so yeah the CW does have a lot of jokes in it but im nervous bc this is my first fic thats like this but it does have actual warnings btw so please read them

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

Okay now onto the fic. Enjoy, you horny goblin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~

♧It had been two months since you came to NRC for the first time.

Crowley hired you to be a counselor for the boys in the school. He decided that having a housewarden overbolt every so often wasn't worth the trouble and they needed a shoulder to cry on. And that just so happened to be you.

Crowley had made it apparent he wanted you, telling the agency you worked with that it had something to do with "women being better at comprehending emotion." You didn't mind, the pay was generous and the students were sweet enough to make you want to stay.

You already met most of the students by now, having all the housewardens in every other day just to express their family issues was something you had to deal with. Having the vice housewardens in afterwards wasn't very pleasurable either, but you had to make do. Sometimes Crowley would come in just to see how things were going, he'd say it was to "be generous", he brought you food Sometimes too.

You found yourself getting very close to the married couple of the school, Sam and Crewel. They were very sweet to you, complementing your style when you'd come in, hang out with you during break, Crewel would even bring you snacks from Sam's shop when he had the chance. You would hang out with them a lot, and though you didn't want to admit it, you did find both of them attractive, but you would never hurt their marriage.

Every once in a while, Crewel and Sam invited you over to their house. You'd have drinks, play games, get into really deep conversations about how Crowley sucked, the things friends do.

You didn't want to admit your feelings. You didn't want to admit how you'd slightly blushing when they were being nicer than usual. You didn't want to admit how your heart would beat out of its chest when Crewel would stand behind you, snaking his hands over yours to guide them to teach you how to make a margarita. You didn't want to admit how you'd get so excited when Sam would willingly buy your favorite snacks and have Crewel deliver them to you. It wasn't worth losing two amazing friends over two simple crushes.

You had just gotten done a long day of counseling all the first years, Ace and Deuce to get their counseling together. It was just as hectic as it sounded, taking up almost 4 hours of your time with other students coming and leaving when they realized how long the wait would be. You needed a way to relax and get your mind off this job. Luckily, Crewel came into your office at the end of the day and invited you over for drinks.

This was the perfect stress reliever, hanging out with your two amazing friends and having drinks sounded perfect after a long day. Crewel quickly noticed how tired you were, your disheveled appearance quaking from the little sleep you had. He decided to schedule the meet up for later in the day so you'd get some sleep beforehand. "We don't want you falling asleep on us, now do we?" Crewel gives you a small chuckle and a wink before bidding his goodbye and leaving.

Getting up from your chair with an exhausted sigh, you pack your notes into your bag and leave your office, locking the door behind you. Crowley said to always lock your office when you aren't there, something about the students being nosy and may snoop around. It didn't matter though, it was the end of the school day and the start of the weekend, who would spend their Friday snooping around in a counselors office?

Finally getting to the chamber room and walking through the mirror, you're at the part of campus where all the staff lives. Medium sized houses in a nice circle with Treins house being the biggest and in the middle. Unlocking your front door, you sigh and take off your jacket while laying your keys down on the table next to the door. Going upstairs and into your room, you take your bra and skirt off, climbing into bed after setting an alarm.

Crewel was nice enough to set the meet up back a few hours, scheduling it for 10. Giving you a nice 4 and a half hours to catch up on much needed sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After being asleep for around 4 hours, you awoke to your alarm going off. It was 9:25, giving you 30 minutes to get ready.

Getting out of bed you hop into the shower to get washed up. Using the lovely sugar scrubs you usually do and washing your (H/L) (H/C) hair with a wonderful smelling shampoo and conditioner. Getting out of the shower, blow drying your hair and figuring out what to wear.

You finally decided on a nice (F/C) dress, not too skin tight, but leaving enough to the imagination to make it desirable. Luckily it wasn't out of the ordinary for you to wear something like this, so they wouldn't think anything of it.

It was getting to the time of leaving, so you quickly pack your things and head out. Closing the door behind you, you walk across the empty street and make it to their door. Since they lived in the same house, you would often catch them walking out early in the morning. It was convenient to say the least.

Knocking three times before the door opens with enthusiasm, you're greeted with Crewels smiling face as he greets you. He holds the door open as you walk in, taking your bag and coat off and putting them on the hangers near the door. Sam greets you from the kitchen, beckoning you to come and see him.

When you do, he has a bunch of machinery on the counter. "Sam used to be a barista before he started working here. He stopped a long time ago, but his love for coffee didn't. We decided to invest in some machinery to indulge in his hobby. Expensive, but worth it to see him happy." Crewel says as he walks behind you and gives you a smile.

"I've always loved working with coffee, the pure smell alone is enough to drive a man, me, wild. Come here, I'll show you have to work an expresso machine!" Sam says with a huge smile on his face. Something tells you alcohol isn't being involved tonight, perhaps its for the better.

Walking over to Sam he steps behind you and guides your hands to the different cups and powders to make a shot of expresso. Did Crewel and Sam always have similar ways of teaching? They aren't like this to the other staff..

After making the expresso, Sam grabs some coffee he brewed earlier. Pouring it into a mug and the expresso on top, he starts the foam art. Watching him pour the foam in different directions was almost mesmerizing, and soon enough, you had a little foam kitty! How cute!

Sam had finished his and Crewels coffee and you sat down at the coffee table with them. They were silent, more than usual. Their eyes would dart across the room, occasionally landing on you but quickly shifting focus. It seemed as though they wanted to say something, but couldn't figure out how to put it.

"Is something wrong? You guys are awfully silent tonight, I hope I didn't upset you in anyway-" you trailed off, trying to figure out what was going on.

"No, no! Its not you at all!" They both practically shouted while jumping from their chairs, spilling some coffee in the process. Grabbing some tissues and sitting down, they clean themselves up.

"Look, we've been meaning to ask you something- its just- we don't know how to exactly ask about it." Sam says, Crewel still trying to dab some coffee off of the vest hes wearing.

"We think that, maybe, we can open our marriage, but, just to you. We want to try things with you, see what we like, experiment a little." Crewel adds with flushed cheeks. He must be pretty nervous about this.

Sam takes a nervous sip of his coffee before continuing on what Crewel had just stated. "We trust you. We think that you're the only person that could be fit for this, and we're willing to help you explore that side of you. The 'nastier' side, so I've heard the kids say."

Well that was a lot to take in, a bit too much actually. You had felt your entire face heat up as you realized what they meant. A sort of rush of adrenaline creep in. Was this actually happening? You've wanted it bad since you first met them, but you never thought it would actually happen.

Sam and Crewel looked at you as you completely space out. You could feel the tension in the air, their stares getting impatient as their cheeks formed new colors you'd never seen on them.

"We completely understand if you don't want to do this, we won't force you into anyth-" Crewel chimed in after deciding the silence was too much, but was then swiftly cut off.

"I'll do it. I mean- I want to, that is. I've been wanting to, I just didn't want to make you guys uncomfortable. I mean, you're always so sweet to me, I thought we just had something platonic going on, but I had no clue you guys felt the same." You say while practically being out of breath. Pressing your thighs together as an instinct, Crewel quickly switches his gaze to a lovely house plant as his cheeks heat up more.

"Are you sure you want to do this? We'd never force you into anything, but we do want your full consent." Sam practically sighs out. Crewel is still red, but now is occasionally sparing glances at you.

"Yes, im sure. You may do whatever you please." Chuckling, you say with a smile directed to them. Sam gives you a soft smile while Crewel stands up from his chair.

"I'll get everything situated. Sam, if you want to take her into the bedroom and get her situated, that would be appreciated, I'll be in as soon as I'm done getting everything ready." Crewel says while walking out of the room, giving you both a wink on the way out.

"Alrighty then! Let's get you ready!" Sam yells while taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom. When you walk in, you take in the beautiful scenery. Large king sized bed, beautiful red curtains, their bedroom is huge! "Dont be intimidated, Crowley decided to give us extra space. He says we're his 'little gay friends.' We're not even completely gay! Wiggity wack, yo!"

You were so grateful that Sam knew how to break the silence and make you comfortable you didn't even notice he had left your side to go to one of their personal cabinets. "We had been planning this for awhile, we just didn't want to scare you away is all. Crewel and I had picked up a few sets of lingerie for you. You can try them on while we wait for him to get back! No pressure of course. I just figured you may not have expected something like this to happen and you wanted to change into something more... fitting... for the occasion."

Then, it hit you. You were wearing such normal panties, it hurt! Shame on you, shame on you!

Going to the cabinet, you skimmed through the sets of lingerie. None really caught your eye, until you landed on a lacy white two peice with pearly accents. Sexy, baby!

"Oh, you like that one? Thats Crewels favorite. Hes gonna go batshit crazy if he sees you in that! Personally I dont give a shit what you're wearing, you'll be naked and in my arms by the end of the night so it doesn't matter." He says with a smug look on his face. Was that... a threat? Why was it sexy for him to say if it was? He was leaning with his arms crossed on the cabinet, looking for any sign that you were uncomfortable. They really were putting your needs above theirs.

"Go! Try it on! I wanna see Crewels face when he comes back!" He lightly shooshes you away with a hearty laugh that made your cheeks red. After showing you to the bathroom, he leaves you to the privacy of the semi cold, hard floor room. Getting changed, you heard the door open and Crewel walk in. Sam and him were talking about something you just couldn't hear what. Putting the panties to the lingerie set on, you had realized they untied at the sides. How convenient! Stepping outside, you felt their eyes practically rip you apart.

"Hot diggity dog! I'm so sorry, that sounded so weird oh my god." Sam slaps his face before cupping his eyes in embarrassment. Crewel sent him a death glare before looking back at you with wide eyes and completely red cheeks.

"Uhm.. we should uh.. go over safety precautions. Our safeword is going to be, 'blue', understood?" Crewels voice was shaky and he was clearly avoiding your gaze, but he did sound serious. Shaking your head yes, he continues. "Alright. Remember, any time you get uncomfortable, or you want to stop, or anything, just say the safeword and we'll stop immediately. As for everything else, I got some things for us. Just to make everything a smoother process is all. Lube, vibrators, simply just things to have your body relax. As for protection, both Sam and I can't have kids. In our defense we didn't think something like this would happen."

"In short, you're gonna be fine. We'll make sure you're treated nice and good, don't worry. Crewel and I are, as the kids would say, 'freaks in the sheets', but we'll wait until later dates to actually try those things with you. If you're comfortable, that is." Sam smiles at you. It was comforting to see all the precautions they're taking.

"I'm okay with anything really, I mean, I dont have very much experience but im willing to try things out! It's just, im a bit nervous is all.." Sam looks at you as though he's seen something so otherworldly gorgeous he can't explain it, and he gently takes your hands.

"Hey, dont be scared, okay? We'll go as slow as you want, and if at anytime you want to stop we will. We just want you to have a good time." Sam winks as he gives your hands a gently squeeze of reassurance. Crewel was silently taking off his coat all the while looking at the way the lingerie was hugging your body. Blush was covering your cheeks as you take your hands out of sams grasp and cup them together in a nervous fashion.

"Thanks.. its just this outfit im wearing is starting to be a bit uncomfortable." You say while looking away from their prying eyes.

"Well let's take it off then." Crewel says with a grin on his face while making eye contact.

"Mhm. I agree. If its making you so uncomfortable we should take it off." Sam says while giving you his signature grin. He takes your hand and leads you to their shared bed, sitting you on his lap in the middle of the comfortable mattress. Crewel followed and crawled towards the two of you, while landing front of you and spreading your legs gently.

Sam slowly leans into the crook of your neck, "I'm gonna take these off, okay?" He whispers in your ear as he places the strings of your panties in his fingers. Nodding in agreement, he gives the shell of your ear a soft nip, earning a small yelp from you, making the men giggle.

He slowly takes his fingers and pulls on the drawstrings, Crewel in front of you, watching in anticipation. Shyness taking over, you instinctively shut your legs close when Sam begins to take the peice of loose fabric off.

Crewel places one hand on your inner thigh and pries them open, clicking his tongue while shaking his head in light hearted dissapointment. "Ah-ah, no hiding sweetheart, cmon, you'll be begging to be touched more by the end of the night, we have to start somewhere, dont we?" Crewels voice was laced with last, you had never heard him act like this before, but God you wanted more.

You you began to crawl up Sams lap in a stroke of nervousness, to which he only gave a soft smile at. "You'll be a good girl for Divus, wont you? You'll be so good for him, let him eat you out, right?" Sam says from behind you in a teasing tone, while Crewel waited patiently for your response. Nodding yes, Crewel dove between your legs like a starved man.

A loud moan escapes your lips from the sudden burst of pleasure, earning a chuckle from the man behind you. Placing both hands on Sam's thighs in an attempt to keep your balance, you only ended up digging your fingernails into his skin. Leaving harsh, painful nail marks on his legs, Sam groans at the sudden pain. He takes his hand, interlocking it in Crewels hair and pulling him forward so he can reach deeper parts of you. You moan loudly at Crewel being able to hit spots no one else could, and Sam takes his hand out of Crewels hair and places two fingers on your clit, making circular motions with light pressure.

With all the stimulation, it doesn't take long for you to cum, which you do with a loud moan. Crewel licks all of your juices up and swallow them in a single motion. "Delicious, as expected." He says as he softly caresses your cheek for comfort. Sam begins to rub slow circles into the flesh of your thigh, giving them light pinches every word often.

Crewel begins to unbuckle his belt with one hand, the other still stroking your cheek. "Are you alright with taking us both at the same time? Its alright if not, we can take turns if you'd like." Crewel makes eye contact with you as he asks, making you swallow hard in anxiety. As you begin to think, Sam lays his head in the crook of your neck in anticipation.

"I'm alright with taking you both at the same time, its just please be slow, im a little scared is all... this is my first time doing something like this..." you say as a small chuckle comes from them both. "Of course we'd be slow silly! You're our main priority, so we just want to make you comfortable." Sam says as he kisses your neck and slowly retreats from his resting place on your shoulder.

"I'd suggest you prepare her for... well, anal. You're alright with that, right?" Crewel asks with concern in his eyes. Now THIS was something you didn't expect tonight, but not unwelcome.

"I'm okay with it! But please, please be gentle, I've never done this before." You say as you look behind you at Sam. He gives you a smile before ruffling your hair. "I know I know, I'll be gentle I swear." He says as he begins to let his slender fingers roam to you ass. "Get ready, okay? This is gonna feel weird and possibly hurt for a minute, but it'll get better."

Taking a deep breath, you nod your head. Sam takes one finger and begins to slowly inch his way in, letting you stretch out. You slowly grown out at the alien feeling, gripping Sam's thighs harder than you were before.

He begins to curl his finger in you, slipping in another one as you start to loosen up more. Crewel could sense the way it hurt, he leaned down and started kissing and rubbing your thighs gently, hoping it would help you ease.

Sam could feel you loosen from this, to the point he was able to slip a third finger in, earning a moan from you. He began to curl his fingers upwards as he kissed and sucked on the sensitive skin of your neck. With the stimulation, you ended up cumming after a few minutes.

As Crewel lapped up your juices again, but gently this time as to not overstimulate you, Sam began to praise you more. "Look at you, doing so good for us, taking us so well. I cant wait to have you coming undone on us." Sam said as he placed a light kiss on your cheek.

Crewel took the rest of his clothes off, leaving him in just his boxers, letting you stare in awe at how well built he was. He took your hand and let you sit in his lap. "Just a second doll, Sam needs to undress himself." He says as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, placing sweet kisses on it. After a minute, Sam was done and was also in just his boxers, guiding you back onto his lap.

"Which hole ya wanna take? Rock paper scissors? No, thats too cliche.." Sam rambles on. "I'm fine with whatever, what do you want, y/n?" Crewel tags into the conversation as he scoots closer to the two of you, holding your waist in the process.

"I'm okay with the position we're in right now, with you being in the front, Sam in the back.. it seems fine like this." The men smile at how genuine you're being, voicing your concerns, ect. Its cute to them. They nod and hum in agreement as Crewel grabs a bottle of lube.

"I reckon I won't have to use this as much as you will, Sam. Take it slow, hurt her and I'll beat the shit out of you." Crewel says with a smile on his face, sort of whispering that last part.

"I am gentle! I'm always gentle, some would even call me a gentleman!" Sam says with a playful scowl, taking the bottle from him. You begin to giggle as you see Crewel slowly take off his boxers, reveling his already, very hard member.

"Sorry love, you looked too cute, couldn't help it, yknow?" He says, giving you a wink as his breath speeds up. You feel Sam shifting under you and you feel him take off his boxers, throwing them to the side.

Oh no, they're both huge! Crewels is long, around 7-8.5 with reasonable girth, while Sams is 6.5 and a lot thicker. How are you gonna take them both at once?

"I know what you're thinking, you'll be alright. We'll take it slow, build up speed with time." Sam says as he places a quick kiss on your temple. He squeezes the lube on his hand, rubbing it together to warm it up before putting it on his cock. Earning a hiss from him, he sighs and places both hands on your waist. Lifting your body up, both him and Crewel line themselves with your holes, and wait for your confirmation.

Placing both hands on Crewels shoulders, you nod your head before they begin to slowly sink themselves into you, stretching you out more in the process. Moans from all three of you fill the room as they lower you down more and more.

Once they are fully in, they both huddle close to your body, singing you praise after praise as they wait for you to let them move. After a few minutes pf being out of breath and simply just panting you give them the go ahead.

"You can move, I'm okay now." And with that, they pull their torsos away from you and place their hands on your waist. Starting at a slow pace for you to get used to it, they slowly and gradually add more speed as they both bounce you on their cocks.

Sam rests his head on your shoulder, panting in your ear as his grip on you tighten and his muscles tense. Crewel doing the same, but while bouncing you, he begins to thrust upwards when you come down to make a larger impact, earning a loud moan that makes you tense around them.

Ssm gets jealous of how Crewel seems to be fucking you better, so he starts to do the same, meeting his thrusts with your timing. You were all moaning messes and by the looks of it, none of you could last very long.

Sam grits his teeth as his hands make their way to your tits, softly squeezing and pinching them. Crewel let's his hands wander to your pussy, taking his thumb and rubbing circles on your clit. You dont last long after they begin to do this, and cum for the third time this night, riding out your high as Sam and Crewel chase theirs.

You can feel Sams breath speed up and grow more hoarse as his grip on your thighs and breast slightly tighten. "Shit shit shi-" a loud groan erupted from his chest as he spills his seed in you. Crewel falling seconds after, cumming in you as he thrusts upwards, keeping it in.

You all lay on the bed for a few seconds, basking in eachothers presence while catching your breath. Crewel slowly pulls out, earning a whince from you. He walks into the bathroom and comes back seconds later with a wash cloth.

"Cmon Sam, you gotta get out." Crewel says as he looks at him, with a whine Sam pulls out too, letting both their juices spill out of you. "Such a good girl for us, keeping all our cum in her. You did so well for us dear." Crewel says as he cleans you up. Lightly dabbing the cloth on your now sensitive areas, he softly chuckles at the way your body reacts.

Sam walks to the other side of the room, going into a small fridge and grabbing three waters and a few snacks. "I've got waters for all of us and some chocolates for the girl of the hour." He says with a wink. Crewel is done cleaning you and goes to throw the soiled towel in a wash basket as Sam opens your water and chocolates.

Replenishing your thirst and munching on the surprisingly delicious chocolates, Sam picks you up unexpectedly and moves you to the front of the bed. "What, you didn't think we were gonna kick you out after this, did you?" Crewel says chuckling as he comes back from being in the bathroom.

"Honestly, im not sure what to expect from you guys anymore." You say with a chuckle. Both men chuckle aswell as they make it into bed with you, sandwiching you between them. Shifting the pillows and blankets around until you're all comfortable, you lay in a comfortable silence.

As you all say your goodnights as the lights in the room turn off, you can't help but think of what situation you're in. Having two men who just fucked you into oblivion now cuddling you goodnight? You could get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: im lorde yaya im lorde yaya

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈

Yandere Dick Grayson x GN Reader

❥ Part I >> Part II >> Part III >> Part IV

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: Wanted to write a platonic older brother Dick Grayson story, but depicting his spiral into yandere-hood. Tumblr can’t handle my swag AO3-length writing, so multiple parts it is!

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: platonic sibling yandere content, older brother Dick Grayson, younger sibling reader, non-vigilante reader, adopted reader, slow burn yandere(?), the pacing is very a-day-in-the-life-esque, kind-of stalking, unsettling build-up, Dick isn’t a full-blown yandere yet, starting off tame, biblically accurate Batfam, CLIFF HANGER!!

❥ 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃.

Richard Grayson didn’t really like you.

He never told you outright, but you knew. It was painfully obvious during your initial meeting (one that was “long overdue,” according to Bruce), back when Alfred dropped you off at his Blüdhaven apartment with all your belongings. Though he offered a welcoming smile with complimentary dimples, something dark swirled in his sapphire eyes, a stony cold stare contrasting with his warm greeting of, “nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

You didn’t know that much about Richard Grayson, other than his role as your pseudo older brother (and the fact that he was Robin, and now Nightwing, but you were still wrapping your head around the idea of your filthy rich adoptive father being fucking Batman, so… there’s not much you could say on that). He seemed friendly enough in all the gala interviews you’ve seen, but you were starting to realize to not take someone’s press persona as gospel: after all, Bruce Wayne seems much more put together in front of the cameras than he does in the manor. So, while unsettling, you couldn’t say you were too surprised by this official first impression.

Maybe he was just tired, you told yourself. He probably doesn’t get much sleep, with the whole crime-fighting thing and all.

(Yeah… crime-fighting thing… y’know, cuz your pseudo older brother is Nightwing, and your filthy rich adoptive father is fucking Batman.)

However, after getting all your things settled into his spare bedroom — Alfred being a big help, as he always was — you were getting the sense that your gut intuition was right; Richard Grayson didn’t really like you at all. He may have acted all cordial, giving you a tour of his apartment and making polite jokes, but as soon as Alfred left and he excused himself to make a phone call in his room, his true feelings on your collective predicament became painfully apparent, as thin walls did nothing to hold in his heated argument with Bruce.

“B, why the hell are you doing this to me?! ……. No, they’re in their room. Getting all their stuff settled in right now. ……. I know I did, but now that they’re here, I just—!! ……. No, they’ve been okay so far, it’s just— come on, B, I know you’re an empty-nester, but if you weren’t ready to take in a kid, why’d you—?! ……. Really? So adopting orphans is just a hobby now?! ……. Yeah, and it’s really unfortunate what they’ve gone through, but you can’t just pick up every stray you see, especially if you’re this fucking paranoid about them wanting to—”

This was the only time you could understand Bruce’s response over the phone; “I DON’T WANT ANOTHER DEAD CHILD, DICK.”

… Ah.

There was a beat of silence before Bruce continued, though his softer tone made it impossible to make out what he was saying. He went on and on until Dick sighed. “Bruce, I want them to have a happy home. And, yeah, I sure as hell agree that the manor might not be the best choice, but I’m off doing my own thing just as much as you are. At the very least, Alfred— ……. What would’ve been good for both of you was to not sign the papers in the first place. You’re still healing, and they need someone who can be there for them. ……. No. No, they’re already here. I’ll stay true to my word, B, but they can’t stay here forever; you know that. It’s just not healthy for all of us. ……. Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best. Look, I gotta figure out what I’m gonna make this kid for dinner.”

And then, without a single goodbye exchanged, the call went dead.

So, yeah. Richard Grayson didn’t really like you.

Which was fine. Really, it was. You weren’t even his sibling by law, as you learned from Alfred that Bruce technically never even adopted him, yet here he was being asked to take care of you, a reminder that he can’t escape Bruce Wayne or Batman no matter how hard he tries. While you were still learning the full situation (again, your filthy rich adoptive father is fucking BATMAN), what you already knew didn’t paint a pretty picture. Honestly, you didn’t blame Richard Grayson for being a little spiteful towards you. It did make sense.

You just wish it didn’t make you feel so… unwanted.

“How was school, kiddo?”

A questioning hum was startled from your vocal chords. The car ride had been so silent, you found yourself lost in your own thoughts, almost forgetting that you were buckled into the passenger seat of Richard’s — Dick’s, rather; he told you to call him Dick the day you moved in — older, copper-colored car. After taking a few moments to collect yourself, you threw your temporary guardian a glance only to find he was pointedly staring at you (which was concerning, as he was driving).

“Uh…” your voice faltered a bit, forcing you to cough in your fist. “It was alright.”

His eyes lingered on you for a bit longer before returning to the road ahead. You thought that was the end of the conversation, but then he spoke up again. “Did you learn anything?”

A bit of an awkward thing to ask, but at least he was trying. “Factoring in algebra. And I guess a little about the Mongol Empire.”

“Factoring,” he said with distaste. “Wasn’t a fan of that. Though it didn’t really help that I had the worst algebra teacher. Ended up with a 70 in that class by some miracle.” A small beat of silence. “Do anything fun with friends?”

You grimaced. Though you tried your best not let it show, you knew Dick probably caught it through the rear-view mirror. “I, uh, haven’t made any friends yet.”

“It’s already October,” he skeptically stated with a quirked brow.

“I know. It’s just…” you clutched your book bag closer to your chest. “It was my first day here, so… gotta make new friends.”

“… Oh.”

As much as you wanted to dryly chortle at his reaction, you refrained. It probably wasn’t his fault he didn’t know about being transferred from Gotham to Blüdhaven Academy, since Bruce apparently had a habit of keeping people out of the loop with things. For all you know, Dear Ol’ Daddy Bats just gave Dick an address and said, "drop off at 9, pick up at 3:30," leaving your pseudo-older brother to fill in the blanks from there (“this is an address to a school, so I’m assuming this is where they go to school,” or something like that).

So, all you could do was shrug. “Yeah.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tighten. He seemed to be deliberating on something, eyes burning holes through his windshield as he let out a sigh. “So, guessing you have no one to stay with for the night?”

“Stay with?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean, stay with?”

“Well, I’m gonna be out tonight,” he explained, his tone sounded a bit exasperated. “Can’t just leave you on your own. Do any friends from your old school live near by?”

You were at a loss for words. He wanted you to stay with someone? For the entire night? “Wait, hold on… you just wanna dump me at a friend’s house anytime you do your hero shit—?”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, kiddo, but we’re in Blüdhaven,” he spat at you. “And my apartment isn’t exactly in the nicest part of town.”

“But— it’ll be fine, ‘cuz you have a Bat-level security system,” you protested.

His grip got tighter on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t matter. You’re used to the manor, not street-level crime, kid.”

“I grew up in Gotham,” you retorted. “I’ve known street-level crime way longer than I’ve known the manor.” Before he could say something to that, you beat him to it by following up with, “and besides, all my friends from Gotham live in areas that are just as bad as your apartment. Wasn’t all that popular with the socialite kids with mansions, you know.”

No response for several seconds. Dick’s expression was far from pleasant, and you were starting to worry if you were getting yourself into some sort of trouble. Eventually, however, he let out a frustrated sigh, his cold eyes snapping towards your figure. “You make one hell of an argument, kiddo. But listen. We’ve gotta go over home-alone rules when we’re back to the apartment, alright? I don’t want anything happening to you under my watch.”

“Fine by me,” you shrugged.

The conversation was then dropped.

A small smile started to bloom on your face. He really thought he could rid of you like that, didn’t he? You knew he didn’t really like you, but using it’s not safe as an excuse to a Gothamite? Really? Yeah, that’s a bunch of bogus.

… Though, you had to admit, it was nice that he at least sounded considerate.

You woke up to the sounds of disgruntlement coming from the living area.

It wasn’t too loud, as you couldn’t exactly comprehend what was being said, but it was loud make you realize the disgruntled party was extremely ticked by something. Getting out of bed, you put your ear to the door for better listening.

“I already told you, I can’t. I’ve been leaving this kid home alone far too often for my liking. ……. Where, Roy?! Where can they stay?! Bruce isn’t in the right headspace to have another kid in the manor, and— ow, fuck— it’s not like they have any friends to crash with for the night! ……. Transferred schools. Would’ve been nice if Bruce said something about that, but— ……. Said their Gotham friends live in areas just as bad. Besides, there’s no way in hell I’m letting them step foot back into that hellhole without me being there. ……. ‘Cuz it’s fucking Gotham, Roy! It’s only city in the world that has a death by killer clown statistic!!”

Ah. Another phone call. Dick had been making a lot of those, recently. You never knew who was on the other line, except if it was Bruce or (by rare chance) Alfred, but you had a general idea that it was always one of his super hero friends. Not very many people casually talked about beating up thugs and criminals, after all.

“No— absolutely not. Bruce would be pissed if he found out!! He’d think I’m trying to make them into my sidekick or something, and god knows what happens to them after that. I’ve been through the system, Roy. While I’m not too keen on keeping a kid around, putting them back there is not an option. ……. They’re just— safer in my apartment than anywhere else right now. I can’t have anything happening to them. Not after Jason. Bruce would never forgive me, and I— I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. ……. I’m sorry, Roy. Maybe next time. ……. Yeah. Tell the other Titans I’m thinking about them, okay? ……. Yeah, good luck tonight. Try not to show up on the news. ……. Yup. See you.”

Your ears picked up on a low beep, heralding the end of the call. As Dick let out a string of curses, you couldn’t help but feel… empty. You were more than just a pain in the ass for Dick; you were a full-blown problem. It wasn’t just the fact that you were keeping him from having hero fun. Even if he wasn’t all that fond of you, he still considered you his responsibility, and seemed genuinely worried about your safety when he wasn’t there. You were under the impression that he went out at night to forget you existed, but…

Jason…

Jason was a name you were only vaguely familiar with, usually used as a heavy blow in a Dick v. Bruce argument. While you don’t exactly know the full context, Alfred did make mention once of a kid who lived in Wayne Manor before you (the one who is “no longer with us,” as the butler solemnly said), and upon stumbling into the Batcave by accident, some of the only coherent mutterings he offered were, “Jason,” and “no, not again.”

Again, you didn't know the full context, but it's easy to put together the pieces from there.

A particularly loud curse from the other side of the door brought you back to reality. You at first wondered if you should go out there and make sure your current guardian-figure was okay, but you decided against it, as A.) he was probably just patching himself up from a particularly rough skirmish, and B.) he didn't seem like he was in the mood to see you. Besides, with your thoughts on this Jason kid, you didn't know if you had enough self-control to keep your burning questions locked away on your tongue.

So, instead, you decided to lay back down in your bed, brainstorming ideas to get Dick to talk about Jason.

This was… kind of a terrible way to ask.

Sure, you were curious. The thought had been haunting your thoughts since Bruce’s breakdown, and being out of the loop was slowly eating away at your mind. But maybe you could’ve been less… abrupt… and given Dick a little bit more time to be mentally prepared. It was an extremely sensitive topic, after all, and you knew even he was healing from the aftermath.

You hoped he understood your question wasn’t just morbid curiosity; Jason’s death is in-part the reason you’re here, after all.

Dick stared at you across from the dinner table. His fork had a few pieces of macaroni skewered one the prongs, half-raised to be shoveled into his mouth. Blue eyes stared right through you, blinking owlishly as he presumably tried to process what the fuck you just asked him. All you could do was hunch into yourself in your seat, mentally scolding yourself for how fucking rude your question probably was. Painfully long seconds ticked by with no sort of response, and you eventually decided that the best course of action was to do some preemptive damage control.

“You— actually, you don’t have to answer,” you weakly sputtered. “I’m so sorry, that’s— that was so uncalled for. I’m really sorry, Dick.”

He set his fork down. “No, it’s fine. I’m just… did Bruce not— he never told you?”

You shook your head.

“… Ah,” was his reply. His eyes wandered towards the window, an unreadable expression falling onto his face. He seemed a bit… lost. Which was understandable, as you didn’t exactly give him prep time for a conversation like this. You gave him as much time as he needed to put his thoughts in order.

Finally, he gave an answer. “Killed in action. Ended up in the hands of the Joker, and… well, he didn’t come home. No Robin ever since.”

The flat tone that carved through his words caused your hair to stand on end. He kept the details vague, but you didn’t find yourself minding all that much. If the Joker was involved, it probably wasn’t that much of a lovely story. “So, he was Robin after you?”

A hum of confirmation came from Dick. “The mantle was open, since I took up a new name. After finding out that Bruce was Batman, he practically begged to be trained as Robin.” He slowly brought the fork to his mouth. “That’s what Bruce said, anyway.”

It was then you noticed the silverware rattling from some sort of rhythmic thumping. After a few moments, you realized it was from your knee hitting against the table, causing you to will your legs to stay still. “Um…” you cleared your throat. “Were you… close with Jason?”

“I mean, we were friendly.” He still neglected to make eye contact with you. “I tried to be a good example to him, but I was busy doing my own thing here.” His gaze dropped to the linoleum floor. “Didn’t spend enough time with him.”

A heavy pressure crushed down on your chest. While you didn’t know Jason personally, you were no stranger to the concept of loss, and the more you learned about his death, the more your current situation was starting to make sense. Jason discovered Bruce was Batman. He wanted to be Robin, and Bruce let him. Then he died as Robin. Bruce’s adopted son died on the field, in the costume.

So, after you found out Bruce was Batman… it probably felt all too familiar.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you practically whispered.

Dick only sighed. “It’s alright, kiddo.” Finally, he raised his eyes to look at you. “Say, how are you doing in that chemistry class?”

… Huh?

The abrupt change in subject was… interesting. But definitely understandable, as talking about Jason’s death probably wasn’t all too pleasant. Guilt started to eat away at your conscious, the thought of making Dick uncomfortable by reminding him of his grief and regrets making your heart feel heavy. So, you merely offered a shrug and said, “uh… I’m doing fine.”

“Thought you were having trouble with valence equations,” he mused.

You could only dumbly stare at him. Okay… this was new territory. Sure, he always asked how school was while picking you up, but this was the first time he’s talked about it at dinner. Then again, this is the first time you two have talked at dinner period, since most dinners were spent eating in total silence, so maybe he was just trying to cleanse the awkward air that you created from randomly inquiring about Jason (because you can't do anything right, apparently).

So, ignoring the warmth that swirled in your chest at the thought of him actually caring about your life outside of the polite, seemingly obligatory after-school exchanges, you indulged.

Blüdhaven nights weren’t all that different from Gotham’s. They could get noisy, the sounds of the city mixing together into one cacophony. You’ve learned how to sleep through it all, and it’s not like it’s all high energy for the entire night; around 1 in the morning, there’s a lull in activity that yields little to no sounds to disturb your slumber. Some would even call this hour the most peaceful that places like Gotham and Blüdhaven can get, despite all of the dubious activities that are probably happening.

So, something like the sound of a window sliding opening is enough to disturb this peace.

It was your window. It sounded like it was right in your room, so it had to be your window. You stayed as petrified as a statue in your bed, the fog of sleepiness immediately airing out of your brain from your nervous system screaming, holy shit, someone is opening my window. Well, maybe, if you continued to stay still, they wouldn’t recognize the obvious lump in the bed, take whatever the fuck they wanted, and be on their merry way. With any luck, Dick was done doing his hero shit, and the unfortunate sap breaking into the apartment would have a run-in with Nightwing.

That’s when a your bed began to creak from a new weight being added to it.

… Ah, shit.

You didn’t move. There was no way in hell you were moving. Even if the intruder seemingly knew you were there, you could do nothing else but stay stagnant in place, waiting for them to make the next move. Maybe, if they touch you, you could swing your arm to hit them and catch them by surprise. That might give you enough time to run, find Dick’s room, and pray to god he’s home. If not, then you could at least lock yourself in his room and hold out until he does.

Your thoughts were cut short when a familiar voice rang out.

“You didn’t lock your window.”

… That bastard—!!

Relief crashed through your body like a tidal wave. A heavy breath tumbled out of your lips — one that you didn’t even know you were holding in — which alleviated the growing pressure in your chest. Now that you could feel your limbs again, you willed away the shiver that wanted to travel through your body as you turned to face this so-called intruder. “Kind of an unconventional way to come home, don’t you think?”

Your eyes met the pearly white lenses of a domino mask. The shadowy figure sitting on your bed had his arms crossed over the unmistakable azure symbol of Nightwing, which, oddly enough, had an intriguing iridescent shimmer under the moonlight. Huh… none of the cameras really pick up that detail, you mentally noted, glancing back and forth between the contrast of matte black and shiny blue. You were no professional superhero costume critic, but it was a nice little touch.

Dick’s tired sigh snapped you out of your thoughts. It was a grim reminder that — oh, yeah — you’re about to get chewed out by your vigilante kind-of-older-brother… at an ungodly hour. “Kid,” he began, the chastising tone you were becoming more and more acquainted with lacing every word, “you can’t keep forgetting to lock everything like that. What if I was some crook, or kidnapper, or worse?”

“Good thing it was just Nightwing coming through my window to give me a heart attack,” you humorlessly mused.

Though you couldn’t see underneath the mask, you knew he was giving you that one unamused stare you’re all too familiar with. “(Y/N), I’m serious. This is about your safety, your life, even. If something bad happens while I’m out, I won’t be able to protect you. For god’s sake, kid. I could be on the other side of Blüdhaven while you’re getting taken, or murdered, or whatever!!” He took a moment to heave another sigh. “Just… promise me you’ll lock your window next time, alright? Please.”

All you could do was wordlessly nod. After taking some time to process what he was saying, you admittedly felt bad. He was right; neglecting to lock your window like that could very well mean death in Blüdhaven. It’s not like growing up in Gotham is any different, so you knew this fact very well. Maybe your time at the manor caused you to become less careful, as it’s unlikely any criminals are hitting up the Wayne residence anytime soon; and it’s not like any of them know about the Bat-level security, either.

A springy click echoed through your room, and you looked up to see Dick inspecting your window (you’ve long stopped questioning how he just teleports like that). After deeming it to be safe, he softly padded towards your door. His hand was on the knob, but he seemed a bit hesitant to turn it. Then, almost as an afterthought, he looked at you over his shoulder and said, “goodnight, kiddo.”

“… Goodnight,” you mumbled.

He was out the door.

Click.

Now alone in your room, you could finally replay what just happened. Dear Big Bro Dickybird just gave you the scare of a lifetime, chastised you about being irresponsible, and left to assumingly go to bed (though you’re not sure if that man actually sleeps or not). The conversation — well, more like lecture — played in your mind, repeating on loop like a broken record… because of course your mind wanted to make you feel guiltier than you already did.

That’s when something weird stuck out to you.

“You can’t keep forgetting to lock everything like that.”

… Keep?

As far as you knew, that was your first time actually forgetting…

So... how did he know?

Thwack.

Before you could even begin to register whatever the fuck just hit your forehead, a teasingly dry voice rang out from above. “Your handwriting really sucks, y'know."

With furrowed brows to showcase your confusion, you forced yourself to sit upright on the couch. A small notepad fell from your chest to the floor, the pages sprawled out from the metal spiral to reveal your list of things you wanted from the store. “I was writing fast,” you grumbled.

"Sure you were," cooed Dick with a less-than-friendly smirk. He then cocked his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest. "Wanted a change of scenery or something?"

You felt your face scrunch up. "What does that mean?"

"You usually watch your dumb little YouTube videos in your room," he explained. "Not sprawled out on my couch."

Honestly, you weren't even going to question how he knew that. Maybe it was that dumb Bat-detective intuition, or the fact that you probably need to start turning the volume on your phone down a notch (thin walls, remember?). Rolling your eyes, you situated yourself so that you were once again lounging comfortably on the couch. "Trying to tell me something, bucko?"

"Yeah, actually." Before you knew it, you were being ripped away from the cushions, an indignant yelp leaving your lips as you dangled mid-air from your legs. You had to adjust to your new upside-down view in order to throw Dick an incredulous glare. The bastard merely offered a shit-eating grin, simply stating, "get off my couch."

"... Could've just told me that," you spat out.

He began to walk you out of the living room. "You wouldn't of listened."

"Wha-- I totally would've!"

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Whatever retort you wanted to throw at him dissolved into a heavy OOMF as he dropped you onto the floor. You found yourself glaring up at him once more as he swiped invisible dust off of his hands, giving you a champion smirk before heading back in the living. You managed to orient yourself into an awkward squat just in time to see him confidently throw himself into the couch cushions.

That asshole just kicked you out of your spot.

You were not about to let that slide.

With an animalistic yell, you began to gallop — yes, gallop; it was a weird mix of running and crawling, as you were already on the floor — at him full speed. He barely had time to react to your charge (as you victoriously noted from his surprised OOF as you pounced on him), and within seconds, the both of you were locked into a fight to the death. Dick might've had the upper hand when it came to combat technique, but what you lacked in experience, you made up in dedication as you tried your damned hardest to push him off of the couch.

"Hey," he wheezed out. "Quit it, you little freak!!"

"You quit it," was your breathy reply. "I was here first!!"

"But it's my couch!!"

"Didn't see you using it!!"

"Just 'cuz I was getting your dumbass groceries!!"

"You were out for a whole-ass hour!!"

Despite giving it your all, the battle was beginning to turn against you as Dick managed to wrestle your upper body between his forearm and bicep. He eventually managed to pin your viciously kicking legs under his arm, and looking back on it, the scene probably looked reminiscent of a zookeeping holding down a trashing crocodile. This didn't deter you however, as you began to gnaw at his forearm, drawing a sound of disgust from your captor. "I had to spend, like, 30 minutes trying to decipher your shit handwriting," he scoffed. "Now can you just accept defeat and stop biting me!?"

You tried to respond with something along the lines of, "not until you give me my spot back," but it came out as garbled nonsense with your mouth full of his forearm. He aggressively told you to repeat yourself (probably under the pretense that you were giving him some major lip), and during the time you relieved his skin of your teeth to say something much worse than you initially did, a cheerful little tune began to play from Dick's pocket.

"... Hold that thought," he murmured.

Respectfully, you kept still and allowed him to use one of his hands to fish his phone out of his hoodie (you thought about using this as an opportunity to escape, but that would go against the unspoken rules of battle). He squinted his eyes to read the caller ID, only to heave a frustrated groan. “Bruce,” he curtly informed you. You were about to ask if he wanted some privacy, when he suddenly released you from his hold and sent you careening towards the ground. So, taking that as an answer, you scrambled off of the floor and headed towards your room, phone somehow materializing in your hand in the process.

From your room, the call sounded so faint.

… Maybe the walls weren’t as thin as you initially thought they were.

You let out a jet of hot air through your teeth. “The hell is taking him so long?”

The time was 3:50, but Dick’s old car was nowhere to be seen in your school’s parking lot. You shot hit a text 5 minutes ago that has yet to be read, and if you were being honest, you were more anxious than annoyed. Dick was never late to pick-up. Late to drop-off, sure (there was one time you showed up to school at 11:25 due to him sleeping in from a late-night drug bust, and you got the pleasure of making up an embarrassing excuse at the expense of Dick’s pride to the front office), but never pick-up.

So, this meant one of two things; he’s finally forgotten about you, or there’s an emergency.

Just as you were debating on checking the local news, your phone buzzed in your hand, screen lighting up to reveal a message from Bastard. You could feel your apprehension melting away as you unlocked your phone to read his message:

robbery going on

… Ah. That explains the spike in police siren activity going on around you.

You were about to shoot him a classic, “what the fuck” text, but his typing bubble popped up. After a second, another message followed:

gonna be late

Okay, now you decided to send your, “what the fuck.”

The read status under your text didn’t show up until a few minutes later (because that’s what you needed in this moment; more anxiety), and he immediately got to typing.

sorry kiddo

stay put

be there in a sec

Your shaky fingers managed to type him a message along the lines of, “be careful, good luck,” which was left unread by him. A snake of apprehension began to squeeze at your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. You had to force yourself to suck in a good bit of air to calm your nerves. Maybe he was just busy kicking some ass, that’s all. He’s stopping a whole-ass robbery from happening, so it’s not like he can keep up with your messages. Besides, he told you he would be there “in a sec,” so he’s probably wrapping everything up now.

Calm down, (Y/N), you scolded yourself. Your brother is Nightwing. He’ll be fine.

That’s when you witnessed an explosion light up the sky.

It was distant, but big enough to send a low rumble through the ground. You watched in absolute horror as the violent orange and yellow dissipated from behind the cityscape, leaving an inky trail of smoke behind as its calling card. More and more sirens of different origins — police, fire, ambulance — were overlapping in a terrible harmony, though it was hard to process from the brazen ringing in your ears, clogging your brain out from the outside world.

Oh, shit.

What if that was—?!

You desperately fumbled with your phone, unlocking it to reveal your still unread message to Dick. You were hoping for some sort of sorry about that text, or at the very least to see his typing bubble, but you were met with radio silence. Apprehension became pure fear when your thoughts began to race. Something bad happened to Dick. There’s no way in hell an explosion happened coincidentally, so something bad just happened.

Not good, not good, not good at all…!!

It took longer than you wanted to get your fingers to type something:

Dick??

Dick, you okay??

I saw that, are you okay??

Dick??

Dick??

… Nothing.

You resorted to calling him.

… Beeeeeeeeep…

… Beeeeeeeeep…

… Beeeeeeeeep…

“Come on,” you muttered. “Come on, come on, come on, pick up—!!”

… Beeeeeeeep…

…

“Hey, you’ve reached the voice mail of Dick Grayson, just shoot me a text and I’ll—”

You hung up.

This was bad. This was so bad. Something bad is happening, and you’re not even sure if Dick’s okay. Hell, you saw how big that explosion was. Is he even fucking alive?!

You couldn’t help but utter a watery, “no…”

You’re not going through this again.

Without a second to spare, your legs began to carry you forward in a full sprint. You weren’t exactly sure where the explosion went off, and it’s not like you’re all that familiar with Blüdhaven just yet to know where any possible candidates for a robbery could be, but you followed the smoke pillars like a beacon, gauging how close you were based on the surrounding sirens. People stood like statues on the sidewalks to ogle at evidence of destruction wafting through the sky, and no cars dared to run you over as you cut through the streets.

“Come on, Dick,” you said between huffs. “Please— please be okay..!!”

He had to be okay.

You couldn’t lose someone else in your life.

[valyrfia]

We talk a lot about weird shippers behavior and all that fandom etiquette and all that, which is right. But not enough about the people that get borderline violent towards lestappen. Because why are people on twitter lowkey having a meltdown over that meme video. Saying stuff like "omg he's so done with that already 😭" like yeah of course, it's an overused meme. But like it's not that deep, I'm sure he just, sighs and moves on?? And people get lowkey weird about it like "He's tired, he's angry 😡". Idk. Or the typical "lestappies are so delusional, they don't even talk to each other" like okay?? what's the problem then? If it's SO delusional, why don't you just, ignore it? But anyways, some people that are so fervently against it are kinda weird too. Because, me for example don't see why people would like Landoscar so much, it's one of the most rancid ships for me, yet I would never be so loud about it because what do I care??. Idk. Also you should see the quotes in some post that could be just a picture of them two, is like people get triggered or something (???

Twitter for me generally is something to avoid because it’s so ill-suited to fandom. Stuff that’s considered more controversial is always going to get more interactions because of the algorithm so people tend to cry about RPF being “morally wrong” and then use ships to interaction bait anyway. Don’t get me wrong RPF is definitely a grey area but tumblr in general has always been slightly more adult about it because it’s its own self-contained ecosystem. None of you know my real name or my face and we’re going to keep it that way. None of you know my follower count and we’re going to keep it that way. None of this is done for interactions it’s all done because we LIKE being here and know this is a safe space for something that yeah, is a little weird, but the self-containment means that the chance of us doing any sort of harm is practically zero.

I saw a tweet the other day being like “omg im so scared to have 16 and 33 in my bio because I just like them I don’t want people thinking I want them to fuck nasty because that’s gross” and I’m just—I would be willing to bet an extraordinary amount of money that person reads RPF. I would be willing to bet similar for a huge amount of people leaving lestappen “hate”. It comes from some misplaced sense of justice to “police” RPF and it being more important for an individual to be seen to be “morally correct” than protecting a community who really, isn’t harming anyone and just trying to keep to ourselves. I’m definitely not walking around in my everyday life telling everybody about how I think Max and Charles are #truesoulmates, in fact I have friends who are very chronically offline who I often chat about F1 with and I would never DREAM of telling them about this blog or expressing anything I say here because I know the only time and place for that remains either with my friends I’ve met through here or on here.

TLDR: Twitter is filled with people who need to be seen as morally right and for some reason have decided that Lestappen is their current crusade of choice, despite the fact all that really does is increase visibility of the ship to people who may be involved. I would just try your best to ignore it.

[luxaofhesperides]

Listen. I love the dcxdp crossover. It’s a lot of fun! There’s so much that can be done for this crossover, with all the characters and settings and the many plots that can spring up from them. But as much as I love writing for it and sharing my fics with the community, there’s been a significant uptick in things that are rubbing me the wrong way. Some of these things have to do with canon vs fanon, but others are more about the shifting culture of the community.

(keep in mind that I only see things on Tumblr and am not in any discords, so my experience will be different from others bc I have a more limited experience with the wider community)

(putting it all under a read more bc its long)

Let’s start off with a look at what we’re doing as a group:

Building off of completed fics on tumblr: I always thought the etiquette is to not build off of a completed work without permission. Someone had an idea and executed it, then shared it with us. It should end there. If you want to add to it, contact the author first and see if it’s something they’re fine with; some will say no, some will say yes, some will say yes but be sure to credit them for the original fic. A lot of what I’m seeing is a completed fic gets added on to in a way that completely takes it away from the original idea. Having experienced this myself (on a requested prompt from someone else, no less), I found it kind of rude. Maybe it’s just me, but a completed fic is not a prompt request or something open for building up another story around. It’s already completed. Leave the story as is and let the author know you liked it.

Expecting others to write for you: the prompts are what build this crossover fandom, in my eyes. Prompts are posted and people create something around them, either as a group by adding onto what other people are saying, or as individual fics that one person wrote. Now I’m seeing people throw out prompts that are basically fic outlines, then begging others to write something for it. Like, those prompts are already written! They have very specific details! Why not write it yourself? You’re already halfway there, you can just write the thing you want to see and post it. It’s not about being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at writing, it’s about crafting an idea to share to the world. Why ask others to write it for you when you’ve already practically done it?

But also, you are not owed fic. This might just be general fandom burn out talking, but being a fic author who has been treated like a machine? It sucks. I love writing, but I share what I write because what I wrote made me happy and I wanted to share that with others. I’m not a content creating machine who has to pump out fic after fic for other people’s entertainment. I just want to share what I love and having people pop up in my notifs only going “write more/tag me/sequel?/etc” is tiring. I get that it’s coming from a place of love bc you liked the fic enough to want to see more, but please actually talk about what I’ve already written instead of going “update? More? MORE????”

Hostility to DC canon: I get that DC canon is a mess, but it still is a canon and has a lot of cool stuff! I’m seeing a lot of posts recently about how dpxdc people refuse to engage with the comics, and I need to let yall know that this is not a new thing. DC fans also refuse to engage with the comics (it’s mostly batfam) and it’s very easy to tell who has and who hasnt ready batfam related stuff bc the fanon is incredibly wrong about characterisation and what happened in comics. But that’s for a different post.

I’m seeing both sides of the argument (this is for fun, reading comics isn’t required, don’t like don’t read vs it’s tiring seeing people butcher my favorite characters into ocs with their name/face, I want to share my love for comics but there’s so much pushback, it shouldn’t be weird to expect people engaging with a media to have actually engaged with that media). And I think you should engage with comics! DP is a unique case in which fanon is for the most part better and more interesting than the original show (also death to the author/butch hartman), but DC comics shouldn’t be engaged with in that way. If you like the characters you see in dpxdc, you should read about them in comics! The whole point of a fandom is that you’re a fan of the original media. That’s why you’re engaging with it in this way, writing within the world and characters and canon.

I don’t know how people write for fandoms when they’re not familiar with the source material. I wanted to write dcxdp so I started rewatching DP. I’m reading comics. I want to know the characters and their stories so I can have a foundation to write from, and also to better understand the media so I can share my love for it. The refusal to engage with source material while engaging with its fandom is so strange to me.

Also dc fans who love the comics are great! In my experience, they’re very kind and willing to help you jump into comics! Don’t know where to start? Pick a character or team and follow them! Want a reading guide? We’ve got TONS. want thoughts on a specific character or comic run? Just ask!

Now to more specific points about what I’m seeing in dcxdp works:

Mischaracterized batfam: this is a group of people who are disasters and have complicated relationships with each other. They’re kind, wonderful people who bring out the best and worst in each other. Why is Batman always adopting people. Why is this a running joke with the batfam. I get it being a joke the first few times, but I’ve seen it so often and done like it’s accurate characterization that I just. I can’t. I leave that fic immediately. I can’t do it anymore. Batman is paranoid and tried very hard to keep kids away from him/away from being a vigilante. Unfortunately all the kids he got are stubborn and smart so he was doomed from the beginning.

Superman and Kon: you guys are pretty much only pulling from Young Justice Animated which I think is a terrible adaptation, but that’s my own taste. But seriously. Clark is kind. That’s an important part of his character! He’s the strongest man in the world and he’s kind. He was also dead when Kon first appeared as a experiment from CADMUS in Hawaii. They’re not father-son, but they are family and they do care for each other, once they get to know each other. Also Kon is not an angry broody boy, he’s funny! And annoying! pls read kon comics guys, i promise youll like his actual character

Chronos??? Guys. Chronos is not a god in DC canon. He is in Greek mythology, but in DC he’s a Captain Atom villain and he’s literally just a guy who got obsessed with having perfect timing. He’s themed around clocks. He has nothing to do with time travel or time gods. The Speedforce is Time, basically, and it is not human. It is an eldritch being beyond our comprehension that can eat people. If it chooses to have a human form, it’s going to choose to look like Bart. Please read Flash stuff, it’s interesting!

Lazarus Pit Madness lasts like 5 minutes in canon. Jason having it, and being affected by it for years, is a purely fanon thing from the dc side. Not going to say anything more on this because it goes into Jason Todd discourse.

Repetition: I’m sorry but I’m tired of seeing the same things over and over. I barely see anything out of the dcxdp tags thats new and fun to engage with. Everything is the same variation of “Danny helps Pit Mad Jason”, “Bruce insta-adopts Danny”, “Superman is mean to clones”, etc etc. Think of any popular dcxdp trope and that’s all you’ll see. I get why these are fun and popular, but the way it’s being engaged with now? It literally makes me exit Tumblr and put my phone down.

Not every prompt has to go down the same routes as the other prompts. Please explore more options, branch out, twist those tropes around to do something new with them. And also stop going onto other people’s fics and saying “what about [dcxdp trope]? Cant wait to see [dcxdp trope]! You should have [dcxdp] trope.” If I didn’t include it, it’s not included for a reason. There are hundreds of other fics that write specifically about those exact tropes. Read those, or write your own. (im being super bitter here but please just let me write what i want to write without trying to pull the story into another direction for a trope you like. Im writing for me, but sharing it for you. Not every fic needs those tropes in them.)

Tumblr specific things: this is less about the content and more about general posting etiquette. Please put long posts under a read more. If it’s more then three paragraphs, consider adding a read more if there is significantly MORE than three paragraphs. Tag appropriately. Content warnings and trigger warnings should be at the very top of the post and in the tags so they can be properly blocked. If you’re posting fic/prompt, please double check your spelling and fix any typos you find because posts that are filled with excessive typos are difficult to read.

There’s probably a lot more to talk about, but just getting this much out is tiring and, frankly, I don’t want to think on it any more today. If you reply/add comments, I won’t get to them in a while bc I will be writing ghostlights and yhk fic to lift my mood :)

[k-looking-glass-house]

Sam Fairy Gala~ Flower and moonlight

Gah I'm a bit shy to share my "crazy" lore" about twisted wonderland, but you already know that I love making outfits.... Kinda the reason my mascot/"oc" can sew and create outfit.... I also have an obsession with the NRC staff.....hnnnnnnnn *help them*

Anyway in my lore Sam was an NRC student for only his 3rd years (around 17/18 y.o), getting his mage certificate and taking shortly after the shop! He already has his familiar K and tried all sort of way to get very rare items during his scholarship!

Mister Crewel was the almost futur NRC alchemy teacher, he tried an only girls school before thinking it would be only cutie, soft stuff and talk.... While it was only cat fight to panthers/lioness fight and love letters, with some crybabies moments (that's what he said!). He returned to his former school making Trein already tired about the situation! He tried each time to put every puppies in good stylish outfit!

Mister Crewel took a soft spot about Sam (knowing since his teenage days about Sam's grandfather and the shop) and vice versa. They help each other to get items they want (actually they kept from spilling:blackmailing the fact that they both smoke behind Mystery S shop, catching the other by surprise from time to time)~ And so Mister Crewel helped Sam getting some fairy powder, while K would help with sewing the fairies's dresses and they would both promote his fashion collection during the next Fairy Gala~

In the end the fairy gala is a success, K is revealed to eat blot (canon to her disney counterpart), Mister Crewel has fairy blood and can't stand alcohol and Sam believe in fairy tale and has one of the pure heart a fairy could sense (the Fairy Queen said so).

You can see more of it ....somewhere on my tumblr ah ah

Sam (NRC student)~ SR Moonlight De Vil suit

Summon Line: "Even shadows appear under the moon light, gnee hihihi" Groooovy!!: ....Finally....FINALLY HA HA HA!! I got the fairy powder! Home: I am ready, so are my friends on the other side gnee hihi~ Home Idle 1: I must say that when Mister Crewel told me that he could help....I didn't believe it at first! Looks like everyone has their secret! Home Idle 2: Fairies are truly something, my sisters* were right about them, back in our childhood stories! Home Idle 3: This night is truly something, between Mister Crewel "STAY!" and K making him berseck....*sigh* I must stay strong and not get eaten by shadows~ Home Idle - Login: Glitters! Jewel! Silk!! IN STOCK NOW! That's what I would say if I was a seller! Home Idle - Groovy: Thank you Ko-yousei-chan! Yes I'll give you Mister Crewel personal jewel designer contact~ Gnee hihi! Home Tap 1: Mister Crewel is part of the De Vil fashion's house, that's truly something, no wonder he has such style! Home Tap 2: If you want to attract fairies, be kind, be nice, be polite and pour a lot of glittery things! ....Also being handsome help! Home Tap 3: I don't need a bell to talk to fairies, we learned it with grandma it's important to talk to any kind of friends gnee hihi!! How? It's a secret, I'm not going to tell you! Home Tap 4: Arwwghhrr K please stop eating the flower, we'll get scold again by "KURUELLA"! Also stop eating the remain blot TOO!! Home Tap 5: I'll be sure to make good use of that fairy powder! Home Tap - Groovy: Ha ha ha! Somehow it was a good night! We had a lot of fun! Right everyone?!

.....we don't even see the lotus pattern huh....

-Credit-

Sam fairy gala (young version) concept done by me

The lanther bell was ref from "Handbook of ornament; a grammar of art, industrial and architectural designing in all its branches, for practical as well as theoretical use" (1900)

[lovvecherrymotion]

okay very brief munich gig report (mostly under the cut) i probably am forgetting 90% of stuff but let's goooo:

i got EE and i was there by 10 am? i was number 39 and i was pretty okay with this. i did end up getting a really good spot anyway

munich queue 💜💜 i mean, i've already made a post about meeting all of you, but it was truly lovely. i got so many gifts and bracelets! this fandom is full of talented, kind people

the soundcheck was ngvot (every single time i've been to a show i've heard ngvot at some point lol) and vem da greš, both of which i really enjoyed

I GOT TO GIVE NACE MY GIFTS!! like i don't even think he heard what i said BUT THEY'RE WITH THEM. FINALLY. i can be at peace now lol

i really enjoyed both Sector 5 and JC Stewart! they were both pretty good openers! i hadn't heard any of their music before, but i still had fun

WE STARTED WITH KATRINA WHICH I WAS SUPER HAPPY ABOUT

AND I GOT BELE SANJEEEEEE. and bojan said we nailed it the first time which had me like "duh, ofc, i'm here????" I WOULD NEVER FUCK UP MY BELOVED BELE SANJE

we got both Šta bih ja & Schlager. i really really really wanted Bluza so hopefully in london 🤞 i enjoy Schlager more that i've listened to it live lol (and jance were very cute during this song)

on the topic of jance, everyone was mentioning the nacekris was strong last night but as someone who was right in front of jance and barely got to see the others honestly it was kinda hard for me lmao i didn't get those vibes at all. i was so shocked opening tumblr hahahaha. jance were super sweet and smiley and 🥺💕 a solid 95% of what i captured was them and i can assure you they were both very soft and happy

no pijano :((( but he did help bojan at the start of EW and it was very sweet, i love them so much

bojan spit on me. better said, he spit on jan but i was, well, right in front of him, so i got it too lmfao

during the UM bojan was also right in front of me because a little girl got to sing with him (and even went on stage!!!!) and then a super sweet 15yo girl who had her birthday yesterday also got to sing UM - i was next to both of them so i saw bojan VERY WELL. he didn't actually go into the crowd this time

during novi val i made a finger heart at nace AND HE SMILED AND DID ONE BACK AT ME. i know it was for me because everyone got the half hearts lmfao (and then @flananjan told me you could see the heart in a story they posted on their insta and i almost died on the subway back to the hotel)

at some point (i can't remember before which song but i'll probably figure it out when i look at the photos) i put my portuguese flag on stage and jan picked it up 🥺🥺 he then asked me in the softest fucking voice "Portugal?" and i was able to say two entire words to him "yes, Portugal" AND I DIDN'T EVEN DIE ON THE SPOT. he then placed it down and like idk i just!!!! jan knows i exist and i'm portuguese BYE

and when i thought the night just couldn't... well, get any better, JAN GAVE ME HIS PICK. his hand was warm and like way softer than i expected??? this is now my most prized possession. i literally CANNOT believe jan peteh himself gave this to me

the boys didn't come out at the end because they were tired, apparently??? but i was still very happy about all of this. i'm now way less stressed for london (because i won't be carrying around a bag full of stuff for them omgggg) and manifesting i get to meet them then 🙏

munich, thank you for having me 💜💜💜 i can't wait to come back