#just tagging him so this is easier to find

[gothcsz]

ugh I want to be sat on javi's desk whilst he tells me to spread my legs so he can see how wet I am for him 😩😩😩

tags: f!reader, lil bit of dirty talk, terms of endearment (amor, baby), established relationship, husband!javi, no use of y/n, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), oral (f), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 3k w/c - gif cred

a/n: two very similar prompts that i have merged together and hope lives up to what you guys were asking for 🖤 thank you @almostempty for finding the gif for me because that's all i was thinking about when i started writing this. also dedicating this to @yxtkiwiyxt because i know you love husband javi 🖤

The soft click of the door shutting behind you barely registers as you slip into his home office. Your eyelids are heavy, the remnants of sleep still tugging at your senses as you blink them away. The clock on the wall reads 3:00 a.m. sharp.

The gentle glow of his desk lamp casts a golden hue over his chiseled profile. It’s a scene you’ve walked into countless times—Javier immersed in his work, utterly focused, documents spread haphazardly across the desk.

“Amor,” his voice scrapes through the quiet, rough and low from hours of silence. He leans back in his chair, the leather groaning softly beneath him, and his arms open, beckoning you close. His dark eyes soften when they meet yours. “What are you doing up?”

You step toward him without hesitation, as though pulled by a force you can’t resist. Sliding onto his lap sideways, you settle yourself against his comforting frame, resting your head in the warm crook of his neck.

The familiar scent of him—a mix of his cologne and the faint, earthy tang of coffee—wraps around you like a blanket. 

“I can’t sleep without you, Javi,” you murmur, pouting slightly as your fingers idly trace patterns on the fabric of his shirt. “You know that.”

His large hand trails up and down your spine in slow, soothing strokes. He presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, and his sigh feels as heavy as the workload surrounding him. “I know baby,” he murmurs. “I just have a lot to get through before my meeting in the morning.”

You groan in frustration, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. Your lower lip juts out in a way you know he finds irresistible, but it’s not just an act. “Sometimes it feels like you prioritize this,” you say, gesturing toward the chaotic sprawl of documents on his desk, “over me.”

His mustache twitches with a frown, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. “Don’t say that,” the sincerity in his tone clear. “You know that’s not true.”

“Then why are you here instead of in bed with me?” Your tone softens, though the ache of loneliness seeps through.

You know he works hard, tirelessly, to provide for you, to ensure you both have the life you dreamed of. But knowing that doesn’t always make it easier to compete with the demands of his job. Sometimes, it feels like you’re fighting for scraps of his time, his attention.

He doesn’t respond right away, but he doesn’t need to. Over the years, you’ve learned to read every nuance of your husband—the slight crease between his brows, the way his lips press together, the tension in his jaw. Reaching up, you trace a finger along his jawline, your thumb brushing gently over the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you feel the tension in him ebb away, piece by piece.

Javier’s arms tighten around you, one hand resting on your bare thigh, right where your oversized t-shirt rides up, the other pressing into the small of your back. “You want me to come to bed?” 

His warm breath sends a shiver down your spine as his nose skims along your jawline, and you hum in response, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

His lips ghost along your skin, scattering kisses that make your breath hitch. “Seems like I’ve been neglecting my duties. Got my girl sittin’ here, pouting in my lap, begging for attention.” The faint rasp in his voice has lust pooling low in your belly.

A whimper escapes before you can stop it, your hips shifting instinctively against his lap. You’ve missed this—the intensity, the intimacy, the way he always manages to make you feel like the center of his universe, even when life pulls him in every other direction.

His hand inches higher, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his knuckles grazing the edge of your cotton panties, sending a spark through your body.

 “Bet she’s warm and wet for me,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear before catching your earlobe between his teeth.

Your thighs part almost involuntarily, “Javi,” you moan, burying your face in his neck, your lips latching onto the spot just below his jaw.

His groan vibrates against you, low and guttural. His free hand comes down hard on your thigh with a satisfying smack, making you yelp and arch in surprise. 

“You can’t be marking me up like that, mi amor. It’s not exactly professional for me to walk into a meeting with a giant hickey.”

You bite back a smirk, your teeth grazing his jaw before whispering, “I don’t care.”

His response is swift and deliberate. The hand that had been teasing between your thighs moves, strong fingers wrapping around your throat in a firm but unyielding grip. He pulls you back from his neck, forcing your gaze to lock with his. The intensity in his dark eyes makes your breath hitch, and the way his thumb brushes the underside of your jaw sends a thrill down your spine.

“Don’t be like this, baby,” he rasps, his tone commanding but laced with affection, his thumb brushing lightly over the delicate skin of your throat.

He leans in, drawing you closer by the grip on your neck, his lips brushing yours so faintly it feels like a tease.

The tickle of his mustache against your skin makes you shiver, your thighs twitching in anticipation. The ache between your legs grows unbearable, and your mind spins with the need to feel him—any part of him. His pretty mouth, his strong hands, his delicious cock… you’d take it all, every piece of him until there was nothing left to take.

“Please,” you whisper, desperation dripping from your voice as you close the sliver of space between you and kiss him. It starts soft, your tongue gliding along his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth, tasting him deeply. He responds with a low groan, his tongue tangling with yours, and the hand at your neck tightens just enough to make your head spin.

You moan into his mouth, your free hand sliding down the front of his shirt, savoring the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers flirt with the cool metal of his belt buckle before venturing lower, cupping his hardening length through his slacks.

The sultry sound that escapes him urges you to palm him, your touch deliberate as you apply more pressure, delighting in the way he twitches beneath your hand.

His hips shift involuntarily, and you squirm on his lap, the dampness between your thighs growing as your neglected pussy aches for attention.

Javier breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your jawline, then back to your mouth, where he bites and nips at your bottom lip. His hand moves from your throat to your chest, cupping and kneading your tits through the fabric of your shirt. The feeling has you arching into him, silently begging for more as your nipples pucker.

When his hand slides back between your legs, you let out a shaky breath, your head falling to his shoulder. His thumb traces a teasing line up your soaked slit, the fabric of your panties doing nothing to dull the feeling. He alternates between feather-light touches and firm squeezes of your thighs, keeping you trembling and needy in his lap.

You latch onto his lips again, kissing him feverishly, your desperation bleeding into every movement. The air between you is electric, the sound of wet kisses and shared breaths filling the room. Javier doesn’t pull away, doesn’t rush you—he matches your pace, taking everything you’re giving him and giving it back tenfold.

His thumb circles your clit over your panties, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallows with a grin. “You’re so wound up, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Can’t even think straight, can you?”

You shake your head, a breathy moan spilling from your mouth as he continues to toy with you, always a tease.

Javier’s dark eyes flick up to yours, filled with that commanding intensity that never fails to make your stomach flip. “Sit on the desk.”

Without hesitation, you do as he says, sliding off his lap and onto the edge of the polished wood, your palms bracing against its surface.

You perch there, your knees drawn together, but the look in his eyes tells you he wants more.

Javier rolls his chair forward, the scrape of its legs on the floor adding to the charged atmosphere. He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your knee. The warmth of his lips against your skin is welcomed, and when he taps your other knee with his fingers, you know exactly what he wants.

“Spread them, baby,” his command is like gravel smoothed by velvet. “Let me see how wet you are.”

Your heart races as you part your legs, the mess between them undeniable. His gaze drops, locking onto the damp spot that has already formed in the center of your panties. A wicked smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he leans forward, pressing another kiss on your skin—this time on the inside of your knee.

His warm breath fans against your thigh as he drags his tongue along its length, stopping just short of where you ache for him most.

His curved nose nudges against your cunt, and you gasp softly, the intimate gesture making you feel hot all over. He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the scent of you. “Tan rica, amor.”

Javier’s tongue presses against the fabric of your panties, licking a broad, wet stripe that has you quivering under his touch. Your elbows give slightly as you lean back, surrendering to him wholly.

He hums in satisfaction, his hands firm on your thighs to keep you steady and spread as he works you over by tonguing at you over the fabric.

When he hooks a finger under the edge of your panties and pulls them aside, the cool air hits your bare skin, making you whimper. His eyes darken at the sight of your glistening folds, the damp curls surrounding your beautiful pussy, and he lowers his head again, delivering gentle kisses with his plush lips. 

The wet sounds of his mouth meeting your skin are indecently loud, and the lewd intimacy of it has your head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you. “Miss her so much. Miss you.”

The affection in his words melts into the overwhelming pleasure as his tongue dips into your slit, circling your clit with unrelenting precision. A soft moan escapes your lips, and your thighs twitch beneath his touch, unable to resist the way he knows exactly how to undo you.

He grips you tighter, keeping you spread for him as his tongue delves deeper, tasting every heady inch of you. His groans vibrate against your sensitive skin, and the sheer devotion in his actions leaves you trembling, utterly at his mercy.

“Javi,” you moan, his name spilling from your lips as he devours you with an unrelenting hunger. The coarseness of his mustache against your slick folds sends jolts of pleasure through your body, and your hips buck upwards, desperate to feel more of him.

When his teeth graze your swollen clit, you yelp, the sharp edge sensation of it making your back arch as you fall flat against the desk. The crumple of papers beneath you is barely a thought in your mind, overwhelmed as you are by the pleasure of his ministrations.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, tangling in the soft brown curls and tugging hard.

He groans against you, the vibration an added stimulant from the amazing head he’s always giving you. “Oh yes, Javi, just like that,” you gasp, urging him on as your thighs tremble.

His lips close around your clit, sucking harshly, and you feel your breath lodge in your throat. Then he shakes his head, the movement rough and deliberate, and the friction of his facial hair combined with the firm press of his nose against your most sensitive spot has you spiraling.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out, your body trembling as the tension inside you winds tighter and tighter, especially when he stuffs his tongue inside of your fluttering hole, fucking you with it.

Javier pulls back just enough to spit on your cunt, the lewd sound making your body crave him more. His fingers slide through the mix of saliva and your creamy arousal, swirling it around the mouth of your cunt before he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you.

Your back bows off the desk, a yelp tearing from your lips as he sets a rhythm that’s both rough yet fulfilling. His fingers curl and twist just right, pressing against that spot that makes your entire body vibrate and colorful spots dot your vision.

He doesn’t relent, his mouth is back on your clit in an instant, his tongue flicking over it with a precision born from all the hours he’s spent learning your body.

The combined assault of his mouth and fingers is too much and not enough all at once. You’re drowning in the sensations, every nerve alight as he drives you closer to the edge with every pump, every lick. “Javi,” you choke out, your nails scraping against his scalp as the heat in your core threatens to spill over. “I’m gonna—”

He hums against you, doubling down on his efforts as if daring you to let go, and with one final wet, hot suck, you do.

Your orgasm crashes over you, ripping through your body in waves that leave you crying out his name, utterly undone in his hands.

When he pulls away, a glistening string of your essence clings to his swollen lips. His tongue sweeps it up eagerly, savoring you with a deep, satisfied hum, as if he hadn’t just devoured you from the inside out.

You barely register the clink of his belt being undone, the metallic sound followed by the soft rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants down just enough to free himself. His cock stands thick and proud, the head flushed in an angry red and glistening with precum, his heavy balls hanging beneath it, full and ready.

The sight alone makes your mouth water and your cunt clench with fresh need.

Javier leans over you, capturing your lips in a messy, hungry kiss. The tangy taste of your arousal lingers on his tongue as it slides against yours, drawing a whimper from your throat.

His groan reverberates through you as he drags the velvety, swollen head of his cock along the sticky seam of your cunt, spreading your wetness and teasing your sensitive clit.

He swirls himself around your nub, igniting sparks all over your overstimulated body, then slaps the hot tip against your bundle of nerves, making you cry out. “Javi,” you gasp, your hips bucking toward him, desperate for more.

He finds your entrance, the warmth of you wrapping around him as he pushes in slowly, savoring every inch. The guttural sound he makes when he sinks into you is pure sin. “Always so wet and tight for me,” he grunts, his teeth gritting as your slick walls stretch to accommodate him.

You throw your head back, a litany of curses and pleas spilling from your lips. “Oh fuck—Javi—you feel so good. I need you to make me feel this for days.”

He growls low in his throat at your words, his hips pressing flush against yours as he fills you completely, the heat of his cock nestled deep within you. The damp fabric of your shirt clings to your sweat-slicked skin, but all you can focus on is the way he feels—how his cock seems to claim every part of you.

Javi kisses you again, rough and unrelenting, before standing to his full height, his strong hands gripping you as he adjusts your position.

Your hips dangle just over the edge of the desk, his hand squeezing the curve of your ass while the other slides beneath your shirt to cup your breast. His fingers find your nipple, tugging and rolling it as he begins to move, pulling out  almost completely, his cock glistening with your arousal before he slams back into you.

The wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, spurring him on. Your hips rise to meet his, finding a rhythm together that has both of you moaning unabashedly, the desk creaking beneath you. 

Your cries and his grunts blend into a symphony of lust. 

“That’s right, baby,” he says through clenched teeth, his hand leaving your breast to shove your shirt up, exposing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His pupils dilate as he watches the bounce of your tits with each thrust, his cock sawing in and out of you relentlessly. “Fucking take it. Take all of me.”

You grab his hand, guiding it back to your chest. “Don’t stop,” you plead, holding his palm over your breast as your second orgasm builds, hot and insistent. “More, Javi—give me more.”

He nearly growls, his hands roaming over you feverishly before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you upright. Your legs wrap around his hips, your arms clutching his shoulders as he fucks up into you. The change in angle is devastating, each thrust hitting deeper, making you go absolutely fucking crazy.

Your cries of his name are music to his ears, your nails raking down his back as your slickness drenches his cock, soaking the front of his thighs. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust, heavy with the promise of his release.

You bite down on his neck, your lips sucking at the spot he’d scolded you for earlier. He doesn’t stop you, though; if anything, the sharp sting of your teeth makes his own head spin. His hips snap harder, his breaths ragged against your ear. “Shit, amor—I’m close. But you first. I need to take care of you.”

Leaning back, you brace your palms on the desk, your hips swiveling against him as the tension inside you snaps. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, milking his cock as you gush, your release coating him in a creamy sheen.

“Javi!” you scream, your entire body trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure.

His dark brown eyes are glued to where your bodies are joined, watching the creamy ring of your slick coating his cock with every stroke. It’s too much for him, and he buries himself deep with a hoarse shout of your name, his thick, hot release spilling inside you in thick, satisfying spurts, filling you to the brim.

Both of you collapse against each other, breaths ragged and mingling as your high slowly fades. His cock softens inside you, but neither of you rushes to pull away.

“It just gets better every time,” he murmurs, his lips peppering affectionate kisses along your neck and jaw before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as he sighs contentedly. “Now,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing, “will you come to bed?”

He pulls back just enough to brush his nose against yours, his lips curving into a smirk before stealing one last kiss. “Of course, mi amor.”

[quintessenceofdust88]

Fuck it Friday

I was tagged by the amazing @typicalopposite for Fuck it Friday and I decided it'd be a great occasion to post a little more of my 'Nonna Rosa fixes her stupido grandson's relationship' that I started on Wednesday! It's really just a snippet, but I hope to have if finished and published this weekend, so yay ♥ Happy Friday, everyone! (and later today I promise I'll get around to publish the prompts that are in my inbox!!)

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face to the point where Tommy can only see one glimpse of her eye, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

“Nonna, you need to stretch your arm a little. Remember, like Charlie showed you?” He asks with a chuckle; Charlie being his cousin’s daughter, Charlotte, who taught Nonna how to FaceTime so she could ‘see Tommasino’s pretty face more often’, in her own words. 

She stretches her arm and Tommy gets a good look at her. Nonna looks the same as always, sharp blue eyes in a soft face that’s wrinkled both from age and from a lifetime of smiles. Her hair is wrapped in hair rollers and tucked safely behind a red bandana. Tommy misses her fiercely, and wishes more than ever that he could get wrapped in one of her hugs. 

They always did wonders for him when he was a little boy who used to climb trees and get scrapes and bruises; when he was a scared eleven-year-old missing his mother (and as a grown-up he can appreciate Nonna was hurting at least as much as him, having lost her daughter, but still never let it show) and dealing with an angry abusive father; when he was a scared eighteen-year-old leaving the only home he’d ever known to join the Army. And when he was a scared 33-year-old man, coming out as gay to his 75 year-old-grandmother, afraid of being rejected by the one person alive who truly loved him, and Nonna had stood on her tiptoes, pulled him into one of those hugs, and told him all she ever wanted for Tommy was to see him happy. 

A hug from his grandmother had always made Tommy feel like the world was an easier place to be faced, and right now, that’s exactly what he needs. And his longing must show in his face, because she’s frowning at him, her eyes full of concern. 

“Oh, Tommasino” She says softly. “What’s wrong, bambino mio? You look so sad” She asks, and to Tommy’s horror, he finds his eyes filling up. Nonna has that way of bringing out every emotion he tries to repress.

“Everything’s wrong, Nonna, and it’s all my fault”

-- Np tagging @bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @30somethingautisticteacher and whoever else wants to join! :D

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove: A Zombie Ghost Story (Chapter Seven)

Summary: He didn’t want to let his little dove go. He wanted to hold her close, feel her warmth and smell her sweetness. He wanted her softness and light for himself. She made the days of his cursed existence so much easier to bear. She gave him purpose, she gave him happiness with every bright smile and light touch. She was giving him his humanity back—he could feel it, his emotions less dulled each day, his mind clearer. He didn't know how to let her go, and return back to the way things used to be. He didn't know if he could. Word Count: 3426 Warnings: still no smut (but Ghost has explicit thoughts again), mentioned past child abuse, mentioned animal death (a zombie's gotta eat), Johnny continues to haunt the narrative (I almost feel like he should get his own character tag at this point, he talks so goddamn much in Ghost's head) Notes: Triple asterisk (***) denotes a POV change as usual, dash asterisk dash (-*-) is a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. AO3, Masterlist

After emptying the remains of the water cooler into a bottle found in the kitchen, Ghost and his dove resumed their methodical search of the town for supplies.

It was a small town, though larger than a village. Ghost knew they wouldn't have the time to search each and every house—right now, he was guiding Lelia to any spots that looked like they might have the essentials. More water, mostly, but also a map of their surroundings. He wanted to find somewhere that his dove could safely nest for the winter, and a town wasn't it. Other survivors would undoubtedly come through looking for supplies of their own—and with only being a day's drive at most from the military base she’d escaped from, Ghost knew those survivors likely wouldn't be friendly.

It did make him wonder, though. What would happen if they did come across a group of good people who were willing to take Lelia in? There was no way he would be welcome to join as well, he knew. He would probably be killed on the spot, unwilling to fight back and risk her getting caught in the crossfire.

He knew what he should do, if they ran into other people: Watch them for a few days, get a sense of if they were the right sort. If they were, lead Lelia to them, and disappear so they could find her. Trail them afterwards to make sure she was accepted, safe, and happy… and then let her go. Let her be with other humans, where she belonged, and not stuck with a monster like him.

He knew that was what he should do. He just didn't think he had the strength to.

He didn’t want to let his little dove go. He wanted to hold her close, feel her warmth and smell her sweetness. He wanted her softness and light for himself. She made the days of his cursed existence so much easier to bear. She gave him purpose, she gave him happiness with every bright smile and light touch. She was giving him his humanity back—he could feel it, his emotions less dulled each day, his mind clearer. He didn't know how to let her go, and return back to the way things used to be. He didn't know if he could.

So, telling himself that it was what was safest for her and only lying a little bit, he prepared her for a journey to somewhere more isolated.

They didn’t find a map that day or the next—no one kept printed maps or even atlases anymore, it seemed, far too reliant on technology—but they did find a long, designer puffer coat that Lelia squealed over happily, as well as a few cases of water bottles. Ghost, who had been loaded up like a pack mule, was relieved to discover a little red wagon in the garage of the house they holed up in on the third night. His dove was so chronically malnutritioned that she couldn't even carry the pack of canned food without needing to stop and rest every half hour—but he couldn’t afford to be bogged down by supplies incase of an attack. The wagon was the perfect solution—he’d drag it along behind him and could easily drop the handle and move to protect Lelia if need be.

Around four days since he’d last eaten, Ghost found himself sniffing her far more than he was comfortable with. So he kept his distance until nighttime, and then repeated his pantomime show of telling her to lock her door and barricade herself inside the room with her supplies. She understood what was happening this time and obeyed without protest, simply telling him to be safe.

When he came back an hour later, she was ready with the dusty toothbrush and tube of toothpaste they’d taken from the house with the water cooler. She even used some water from one of the bottles they’d found—despite his protests—to gently clean his face and hands. It was the most she’d touched him since the last time she’d scrubbed his teeth—though not the first time since. She tended to walk closer to him now, enough that their hands brushed every so often. He’d stopped wearing his gloves entirely, just to be able to feel it a little better. Sometimes she grabbed onto his arm, too, when she saw something that scared her—which was often—or something that she was excited about—which was rare. It was nice. It was better than nice. It was wonderful. Every second of physical contact with her was heaven. It had been hard, keeping her at arm’s length today, but necessary. And now he would make up for it by letting her clean him, which was arguably even better, if a little embarrassing. But he would embarrass himself a thousand times over if it meant he got to feel her touch.

“There’s blood under your mask,” his dove said suddenly, her fingers slipping under the bottom edge of it. He tensed, reaching up to lightly grab her wrist, stopping her from taking it off. He looked horrifying enough with the mask on—if she saw what was beneath it, he knew he would take over staring in her nightmares from whoever Andrew—and God did he want to rip that fucker apart every time her heard her beg him for mercy in her sleep—was.

“Still won’t let me clean under it?” His dove asked, pouting. He just stared back at her, unable to be swayed, not on this. She sighed, but let it go. “Fine. But you have to clean it, then, because the blood starts to smell if you leave it there.”

He grumbled, but accepted the rag from her, releasing her wrist so she could turn around. He removed his cracked mask, looking in the mirror—trying not to flinch at the disgusting sight that greeted him—and carefully, clumsily cleaned up the little bit of rabbit blood that had snuck up towards his nose. He was lucky he still had a nose, he reminded himself.

Once he was finished and his mask firmly back on, he groaned quietly, and his dove faced him again with a smile, toothbrush at the ready.

Five minutes later—he was disappointed it didn't take as long this time, but he supposed that meant the first cleaning had worked—he was spitting toothpaste into the dirty sink, mouth tasting aggressively of mint.

“What did you eat tonight?”

Ghost looked back at Lelia, surprised by the question. Why was she asking? Was she worried he’d eaten a human?

“I had a can of peaches,” she continued, wiping her hands off on one of the dusty towels hanging on the back of the door. “I’d been trying to save that one for a special occasion, but I couldn't resist anymore. I miss sweets.”

His confusion—and slight hurt—faded when he realized she was just doing what she always did: filling the silence with chatter. It was one of the things he appreciated the most about her, after so long with only the groans of the other undead and his own thoughts for company. Although sometimes, he half expected her rambling to be thick with an indecipherable Scottish accent.

Ghost tried to make a bunny rabbit with his fingers, but his dove stared at him blankly. He huffed and then held up two fingers behind her head so she could see them in the mirror. Bunny ears.

“You ate a bunny?!” She exclaimed, horrified. “But— but they’re so cute!”

Ghost just looked at her, shrugging his stiff shoulders. It was the first thing he’d found, and he’d been trying to get back to Lelia as quickly as possible. Cuteness wasn’t a factor he took into consideration when it came to what he ate. Though if it was, it would explain why she was so tempting to him.

“Aye, tha’s a good’un,” Johnny’s voice said in his head. “Yer cute too, an’ I’d still eat ye. Eat yer sweet li’l cunny—”

He immediately shut that thought down. He wondered if the real Johnny was as much of a pervert as the one in his head, or if it was all just Ghost.

“Did you at least make sure it didn't suffer?”

Ghost focused on his dove again, and was alarmed to see that her big brown eyes were wet and wide, her bottom lip trembling. He groaned, his own eyes widening—as much as they could, at least—and he instinctively reached out to try and comfort her. But he stopped short of actually touching her, his hands hovering awkwardly over her shoulders. She was still looking up at him with that wounded expression, and he would have done just about anything to make it go away, so he nodded quickly. The rabbit had barely had time to register what was happening before he’d snapped its neck. At the time, he hadn’t done it out of mercy, but simple practicality—his meal couldn't run away if it was dead—but he couldn't have told his dove that even if he’d wanted to. Which he very much did not.

“Good,” Lelia said, relieved. She still looked sad, but not as much like she was about to burst into tears, now. Ghost let his hands fall back to his sides. “That’s good... I’m sorry. I know you need to eat, I don’t mean to make you feel guilty for that, I just… my first ever pet—my first ever friend, truly—was a little mummy bunny. She lived in the garden on our estate—that was my favorite place to play—and I found her after Father had refused to get me a pet for the dozenth time. I must have made him quite cross, since he struck me right across the face, rather than give me a spanking like usual. It was certainly more effective, though. I didn’t dare ask again. Which is why I was so pleased to find my little Serafina—that’s what I named her—that I helped her raise her babies until they were big enough to go out on their own. I’d bring them food and nesting materials, and I sat guard over them all day, everyday to make sure no foxes came to eat them. It was bittersweet, when I found the nest empty. I was happy they had all made it to adulthood, but I was so sad to see them go…”

The look in her eyes was distant, though not quite as much as it had been when they’d found the leather jacket. It had scared him, that day, just seeing her go suddenly unresponsive as tears began to stream down her face. There were no tears this time, for which he was glad, but his undead heart still ached a bit at her words. Clearly, despite growing up in the lap of luxury, she had been a lonely child, with parents not fit to raise a sensitive little dove like her.

Ghost groaned quietly and lightly bumped his hand against hers, the way she sometimes did when they were walking, trying to ground her the only way he could. He wanted to pull her into a hug, to feel her soft, warm body against his, but he knew that would be crossing a line.

The bit of contact seemed to do the trick, though, her gaze focusing on him again as she smiled once more.

It didn't quite reach her eyes.

***

It was approaching three weeks since Lelia's escape from Andrew, and a little under two since she and Simon had arrived in the abandoned town, when they finally located a map.

It was in the house Ghost had chosen for them to stay in that night. There was a study, nearly untouched, and Lelia had taken the opportunity to explore the packed bookshelves. She missed her own collection very much—she hadn’t been allowed to bring it with her, once she’d gotten married. The only book she’d been able to sneak away was the hand-bound collection of Russian poetry her governess, Ulyana, had given her years ago. The stern old woman was the only person Lelia had confessed her love of poetry to. Ulyana had scoffed and called her a fool girl, but that was just how she was, so she didn’t take it too personally. Especially when she found the book on her nightstand a few days later.

Lelia still had it, kept tucked carefully in her pocket at all times. It had become a notebook, of sorts, where she wrote all her own poems, as well as copied down some of her favorite English ones. But it was more than that. It was the only evidence she had that someone had ever truly cared about her.

Ulyana hadn’t loved her, Lelia knew that. She would have rather been with her own family, raising her own children back in Russia. Lelia didn't understand that when she was little, but she did now. Even still, Ulyana had been more of a mother to her than Lelia’s own.

Lelia shook herself from her thoughts, peeking up from her new copy of Pride & Prejudice to look at Simon. He was standing at the desk, the map spread out in front of him, growling quietly to himself. She was familiar enough with his array of noises by now to know that he was frustrated.

“Is everything okay?” She asked softly. Simon’s head jerked up, jaw wobbling, and then his gaze darted away, his shoulders hunching slightly. Her brows furrowed in concern, and she stood up from the cozy office chair she’d curled up in, setting aside her book and crossing over to him. She laid a hand on his forearm, trying to get him to look at her again. “What’s wrong?”

To her surprise, Simon pulled away. He never pulled away from her touch—seemed to crave it, in fact, if the way his eyes slipped closed and he got all relaxed whenever she brushed his teeth was any indication—and she figured it was because he was relieved he wasn’t alone anymore. She didn’t know how long he’d been a conscious zombie, but any time spent as one had to have been hell. So when she’d noticed the way he always leaned into her hands when she cleaned him, she’d made a conscious effort to initiate more contact between them. Nothing too big—just a brush of their hands here or grabbing his arm to get his attention there—but little gestures that she hoped reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore.

So the fact that he was denying himself the comfort he so clearly got from it? She knew something must really be bothering him.

“Simon,” she said, quiet but firm. “Talk to me.”

Simon looked back at her sharply, growling as he gestured at his broken jaw. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow at him. He knew what she’d meant. They’d gotten quite adept at communicating without speaking, over the last few weeks.

Her zombie glared at her for a moment longer before grumbling in defeat and shoving the map away from him, wordlessly naming it as the problem. She frowned, bringing it back towards them and smoothing it out as she began to guess at the specifics.

“Is the map of the wrong area?” She asked. Simon shook his head. She tried again.

“Is it outdated?” Another head shake.

“Are you having trouble reading it?”

A long pause, and then Simon nodded, avoiding looking at her. It took a moment for her to recognize the emotion in his lowered gaze, the tightness around his eyes and the hunch of his shoulders. Shame.

“I have a hard time reading maps too,” she said, quick to reassure him, hating that he was feeling down about himself. He’d done so much for her—he was the reason she was alive. She was beyond grateful for him. “Even Google maps. I always ended up lost when I tried to use it.”

Her words seemed to have the opposite of their intended effect, though, as he just grew more agitated, stomping away from the desk and lashing out. He punched one of the bookshelves with a terrifying growl, cracking the wood and sending several flying to the ground. Lelia let out an alarmed noise, flinching violently as she instinctively stepped back and raised her arms to protect her head. Andrew had stopped caring about not hitting her face not long after the world ended. There was no need to keep up appearances anymore, after all.

But no angry blows came her way, and after a moment, she looked up to find Simon sitting on the ground, staring at an open book, jaw quivering where it hung as he tried and failed to speak the words in front of him, the only sounds escaping him being choked off gurgles. Slowly, hesitantly, Lelia approached. As she drew closer, she noticed the minute trembling of his shoulders, and the tremor in his hands as his fingers traced the letters of the first word on the page, over and over again. Lelia realized two things in that moment.

Simon wasn’t having trouble reading the map. He couldn’t read the map. He couldn’t read.

And, much more importantly to her, he was crying.

His cloudy eyes were bone dry, but the noises he made and the way he shook was hauntingly familiar. Lelia’s heart broke, and she lowered herself down beside him before wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. He dropped the book and turned towards her, his own large arms encircling her waist as he buried his face in her neck. Perhaps she should have been afraid. He was a zombie, and although he’d not eaten her yet, he’d admitted to thinking about it when he got hungry—and he hadn’t hunted in a few days, now. Yet she pulled him close, perfectly poised to take a chunk out her neck and feast on her flesh as she bled out. But Simon was crying, and what kind of friend would she be if she didn’t try to comfort him, after everything he’d done for her?

Lelia wasn’t sure how long she held Simon, petting his hair soothingly as he fell apart in her arms. Long enough that her body grew stiff, her bum aching from sitting on the hardwood floor. Long enough that the sun had set entirely, leaving the room in total darkness. Long enough that drool had gathered in her zombie’s mouth and dribbled out, wetting her skin and the collar of her shirt. A little even dripped inside, down her chest.

She didn’t care about any of that. All that mattered to her was being there for Simon when he needed her, like he was always there for her.

Finally, Simon sniffed deeply and then quickly pulled away, letting go of her and moving back, putting space between them. She let him, but only because she recognized the sniff as a sign that she was starting to look a little too tasty to him. He, on the other hand, looked embarrassed, and he actually groaned and buried his face in his hands when he noticed the dark splotch on her shirt. It was an entirely human gesture, and she felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering what Simon had looked like before, back when he was alive…

“I know you need to go find something to eat,” she spoke, shaking the thought from her mind.  “So we’ll figure out the map in the morning, alright? Between the two of us, we should be able to find a way to make sense of it.”

She smiled at him when he looked up at her, and had to resist the urge to hug him again. He still looked so unsure, like a little boy afraid of being rejected—it was a jarring expression on him. Simon always knew what to do, and was always so confident about it, too. She’d seen him scare off dozens of zombies and rip apart just as many without blinking an eye. And yet here and now, in front of no one but her, he was scared. He was vulnerable.

She felt honored that he was showing that part of him to her.

“Goodnight, Simon,” she said quietly, standing up and brushing her fingers against his shoulder as she passed him, unable to help herself. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then she was gone, leaving the study and disappearing into the room she’d chosen for the night.

[guiltysungho]

— Mona lisa

genre : tags. fluff, childhood crush, class clown x class president

pairing. high school classmate!woonhak x gn!reader

wordcount. 1110

a/n. we are so back!! i hope y’all like this. idk how often ill be writing here cause school but feedback is always appreciated as usual.

@onedoornet

It was time for english class, one of the few classes you enjoyed, and yet you weren’t rushing in the same direction as your classmates. The echoing siren of the school bell resounded through the halls around you as you stared at your hand firmly locked in his grip, letting the force pulling you forward drag you along further.

With the sudden silence in the air, you brought your feet to a stop and pulled your hand out of his. Honestly, you wanted to yell at him but that would only put you in more trouble. You stood face to face in the stairwell, while you kept your eyebrows furrowed with a slight pout in your lips, he couldn’t help but smile at his accomplishment.

Before you could turn your back to make your way back to your class, his hand met yours once again. Now all your face reflected was worry. You glanced at your hands watching as his fingers slipped in between your fingers, holding onto you.

“Trust me” you looked up at him with the sound of those words, he smiled softly, the same smile you had seen throughout your school years, and somehow this time it felt different.

You gave him a quick nod, pushing all your anxious thoughts behind and letting him guide you into his world, the same way you had done for him.

Once you finally reached the storage room you felt his grip loosen, and through it seemed like the normal thing to do, you felt it in your chest like a stab in your heart. The more you tried to act like you weren’t thinking about it, as you watched him move things around, trying to unlock the window as quickly as possible, the more you found yourself realizing that you didn’t just like the feeling of his hand squeezing your knuckles.

Tutoring the Kim Woonhak wasn’t a good nor a bad thing, he wasn’t a lost cause but he wasn’t interested either. Most days you’d stay behind in class together, he’d have his seat backwards while facing you, then he’d ask about your day, and it never stopped there. With all the preparations you had done, mentally and concretely, he would always find a way to make you talk, and you never really wanted to stop because you never really got to talk anywhere else.

“You know, you have a really soothing voice. Like whenever you’re called up to read out I try to stay awake just to listen to you.” he said that once, while you were lecturing him on pronunciation. You stared at him for a while after that, a mix of embarrassment and relief bubbling in your belly.

The only constant would be the work you would give him to have done for the next session, which he always did, you would let him talk to you while you corrected his answers. You weren’t sure how you got to the point of skipping class with him but that was where you were now.

Did it even make sense to fall for your classmate on the last day of high school? You shook the idea out of your head, you lost your chance, if you ever had one to begin with.

“I’m going to go first, it’ll be easier to help you out from outside.” he told you as you stood by the half open window, he could see your weariness and placed a hand on your head patting gently.

“Do we have to do this?”

“Of course not, but where’s the fun in that?” You hadn’t realized you were holding on to the corner of his shirt till he took your hand off gently, holding onto it carefully, “I promise you’ll feel better once this part is over.”

So you watched him climb out the window, keeping guard incase of any trouble. Before you knew it he was out and it was your turn.

“Be careful y/n. Don’t worry too much if you fall I’ll catch you.” He tried to keep his voice down while yelling these words at you, somewhat reassuring words that helped you put your foot out.

You were a lot slower than he was and he was a lot more patient than you were, the wall wasn’t incredibly tall but you couldn’t shake your fears away so easily. His voice kept you grounded, indications on where you could put your hands to get lower. Soon enough you felt his hand on your leg guiding you and you were able to relax.

“I got you, you can let go.” He held on to the back on your knees and your back, you followed his instructions, keeping your eyes shut, and ended up in his arms.

The moment you opened your eyes, you were met with his face, closer than you expected, closer than he has ever been to you. You turned your gaze away hoping he would put you down, and you could just ignore it, but he doesn’t so you look at him again.

Your wide eyes, lips slightly open, eyebrows confusedly furrowed only made him amused, while your heart pounded louder in your chest each time his eyes would land on your lips.

It was embarrassing. You turned your head away, tapping on his arm for him to put you down.

As soon as you felt your feet on the ground, you created some distance between the two of you walking a few steps further from him. You let him hand you your bag while maintaining the space, trying to avoid his obvious staring at the same time.

His hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back to his side. You tried to release yourself from his grip, struggling to break the bind.

“What are you doing?” He laughed watching you try to shake his hand off.

“…You’re too close.” You looked up at him hesitantly, you hated that his smile had any effects on you, but the more he looked at you flashing his perfectly shaped teeth, the more you wanted to just give in.

“You don’t want me close?” He titled his head, seeming almost offended.

You stared at him confused, he was teasing you, you thought as you glanced at the corner of his lips, curved up as it usually was whenever he made fun of you.

“Should I make it more obvious?” He asked as he leaned in closer. You felt an urge to back up, to look away, you were scared because you knew nothing of this. As his hand found it’s place at the back of your neck, you wondered to yourself. Had it been obvious this whole time?

[goddesstrolls]

Horf

Known as Gwyndolen the Mirrored, or the King of Unicorns. he is here for no reason in particular

(Also he is Marzic's, uh. Companion? Lusus? Not really sure what they are)

[batbabydamian]

Hey, I started reading Robin son of Batman because of your recommendation (I literally have a print of your post on my phone to not forget lol). Honestly? One of the best things I ever read!!!

Thank you for opening my eyes! Damian has been one of my favorite characters for over a year, but I didn't read/watch much of him because of school, life (and probably an executive dysfunction in the mix).

Maya is incredible. I loved her.

I haven't finished all the issues yet, but do you have any other recommendations?

WAH this makes me so happy, i'm glad you still gave it a shot even with how busy life is!! ;v;

i’d love to give reccs, and i’ll try to go a beginner friendly route! tbh you can pick up whatever here, but since you've read R:SOB i’d immediately follow up with Batman and Robin (2011) #1-8! this first arc is what’s referred to in Maya’s introduction, and it's just. so good.

Main Books

Batman and Robin (2009)

Dick as Batman with Damian as his Robin!

#20-22 Tree of Blood: Dark Knight vs White Knight arc is done by Tomasi and Gleason, the team for the next Batman and Robin series

*Batman and Robin (2011)

Bruce and Damian figuring out their relationship as both Batman & Robin and father & son

imo you can enjoy the ride and read straight through this but i’ll add context to avoid as much confusion as possible since there’s the occasional tie-in or offscreen events, like Damian’s death nbd

Batman Incorporated (2012) #1-10

events leading to Damian's death - affects Batman and Robin (2011) from issue #18

kind of a tough read especially with how Talia's written, but a lot of iconic bits like Batcow, Damian's vegetarian declaration, Alfred the cat, "We Were the Best, Richard."

Robin (2021)

another self-discovery adventure, particularly after Alfred’s death and a fallout with Bruce (and questionable writing choices from his last Teen Titans run)

Batman and Robin (2023)

currently ongoing! after a number of events, Bruce and Damian are back as a duo

Damian Dynamics!

Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7, 10-12

arc where Damian meets one of his first Gotham friends, Colin Wilkes

Batgirl (2009) #5-7, #17

Steph and Damian dynamic! "the bad cop, worse cop" dysfunctional duo

Red Robin (2009) #13-14

early Tim and Damian dynamic that of course includes fighting haha. funny enough, accidentally my first intro to Damian LOL

Teen Titans (2003) #89-92

Dick!Batman has Damian join the Teen Titans. Start of Damian and Rose Wilson dynamic that’s extended in Robin (2021)

Batman: Gates of Gotham (2011)

Damian meets Cass and has a brief team up

Gotham Academy (2015) #7

Damian meets Maps Mizoguchi! they have a few other meetings, but outside of that the series itself is a great read!

Robin War Event (2015)

Robin War (2015) #1, Grayson (2014) #15, Detective Comics (2011) #47, We Are Robin (2015) #7, Robin: Son of Batman (2015) #7, Robin War (2015) #2

Duke and Damian dynamic! not exactly beginner friendly but these are the main issues in order for the event! you can also read the TPB version for everything including Tie-Ins

Nightwing (2016) #16-20, #42, #43

#16-20 Nightwing and Robin arc!

#42 Dick on a mission to save Damian! the one appearance of "Wiggles" the dragon

#43 Dick, Roy, and Damian team-up

New Talent Showcase 2018 "Catwoman: Pedigree"

Selina, Damian, and Alfred the cat

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding - Robin vs. Ra's Al Ghul (2018)

Selina, Damian, and Cheese Viking - Damian's fav game shown in Nightwing: Rebirth (2016)

Monkey Prince (2022) #1-4

Marcus Sun Shugel-Shen's main comic, but Damian features as a fun dynamic here before they're in more serious circumstances in Batman VS Robin (2022)/Lazarus Planet event

Superman (2016) #10 - 11

the beginning of the Super Sons! featuring Maya!

Super Sons (2017)

solitary arcs but there’s a few event tie-in issues later

Adventures of the Super Sons (2018)

literally more Super Sons adventures lol galactic shenanigans yeehaw

Challenge of the Super Sons (2020) 

Super Sons time shenanigans feat. the Justice League

Robin 80th Anniversary (2020)

"Boy Wonders" - brief Damian feature as Tim considers his next step in life

"My Best Friend" - Jon's thoughts on Damian and their dynamic

"Bat and Mouse" - refers to Damian's unfortunate Teen Titans (2016) run at the time of release which follows up with Teen Titans Annual #2 where Damian briefly gives up Robin

Extra Comics!

Superman/Batman (2003) #77

Kara and Damian in a Halloween team-up! also the appearance of "Li'l Matches" lol

DCU Halloween Special '09 "Cavity Search"

Damian out on a solo mission for Halloween night. Immediately after is Tim's Red Robin story "Then and Now: Our Father's Sins" which is more somber in contrast but also a good read!

DCU Halloween Special 2010 "Robin the Vampire Slayer"

a Dick!Batman and Robin story featuring the vampire Andrew Bennett

Cursed Comics Cavalcade (2018) "The Devil You Know"

Halloween themed comic with a sweet short story of Damian alongside Solomon Grundy

DC's Terrors Through Time (2022)

"Trick or Treat" a Super Sons Halloween story

"The Haunting of Wayne Manor" Damian and Deadman story - in the end, Boston kinda refers to Nezha's possession of Damian in Batman VS Robin (2022) which was happening at the time of this release

Batman: Li'l Gotham (2013)

lighthearted series that instantly makes me smile with the silliness and Dustin Nguyen’s art i love this dearly

Secret Origins (2014) #4 "A Boy's Life"

a retelling of Damian's origin story

Detective Comics (2016) #1001-1005

Batman and Robin vs the Arkham Knight (unrelated to the game)

Truth & Justice (2021) #6/#16 - 18 Digital First version

cute story of Damian’s birthday! Juni Ba’s art is so fun!!

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration (2021) “Special Delivery”

short story about Damian! and poisoned pizzas. completely forgot the artist Sami Basri drew Rebirth Damian here before catboy Damian lol Cass’s story “Sounds” is also cute! Marcus makes his first appearance in "The Monkey Prince Hates Superheroes"

DC VS Vampires (2021)

Damian makes appearances throughout this elseworlds book, but the one-shot DC VS Vampires: Hunters (2022) is vampire Damian-centric!

Batman: Black and White (2021) #5

“Father & Son Outing” short story written and drawn by Jorge Jimenez!

Batman: Urban Legends (2021) #20-23

#20 “My Son” Talia and Bruce focus

#20 - 23 “The Murder Club” 4 Parts

Tiny Titans (2008) #33, #39, #45, #47

a few appearances but SO CUTE, LOOK AT HIM

*Batman and Robin (2011) reading guide

i'm mostly trying to avoid the "what did i just walk in on?" kinda feeling when i first started reading comics LOL i'll list the comics where events take place, but you don't necessarily have to read them to go through this book since things are usually explained as quickly as possible in the first page or so

#0 Someday Never Comes

Talia and baby Damian before he grows up to meet Bruce

#1-8 Born to Kill

just an incredibly solid arc for Bruce and Damian!

#9 Court of Owls Tie-In Issue

Damian VS a Court of Owls Talon. While Bruce is occupied with a home invasion of Talons, Alfred makes a call for allies to protect targeted Gotham public figures from Talons. During Batman (2011) #1-11

#10-12 Terminus

Damian challenges the previous Robins sans Steph

Batman Incorporated (2012) is occurring at this time where Talia has placed a bounty on Damian and there's small mentions of that

#13-14 Eclipsed/Devoured

mostly solitary arc! end of it leads into the Death of the Family event

#15-16 Death of the Family Tie-In Issues

Damian and Joker face-off... Alfred's been kidnapped by the Joker, and Damian goes looking for him. During Batman (2011) #13-17

#17 Life is but a Dream - Death of the Family Epilogue

a sort of subconscious check-in through the dreams of Damian, Alfred, and Bruce. Nightwing (2011) #17 features Damian encouraging Dick after Death of the Family events

#18 Undone "Requiem"

Bruce dealing with Damian's death from Batman Incorporated #8

other reactions to Damian's death: Dick in Nightwing (2011) #18, Tim in Teen Titans (2011) #18

#19-23 Denial, Rage, The Bargain, Despair, Acceptance

Bruce through the stages of grief with some batfam appearances in each. also introduces Carrie Kelley into continuity as Damian's acting tutor.

Batman (2011) #19-20 also addresses Bruce's loss

#23.1-23.4

these could be skipped - villain stories, also related to Forever Evil event.

#24-28 The Big Burn

optional Batman and Two-Face/Harvey Dent arc, #23.1 is part of this story!

Damian's resurrection and return

#29-32 The Hunt for Robin

Ras took Talia and Damian's bodies from their graves, and Bruce goes after him.

-> Robin Rises: Omega

continues events from #32. if you don't want to jump to this, basically, Glorious Godfrey and a bunch of parademons from Apokolips are here for a chaos shard which Ra's put in Damian's sarcophagus. at some point, Bruce gets a hold of the shard where he sees a vision that leads him to believe Damian can be resurrected. Godfrey ends up taking the shard, along with Damian's body since it was emitting the same energy.

#33-37 Robin Rises

Bruce hellbent on retrieving Damian from Apokolips and reviving him

-> Robin Rises: Alpha

necessary to read and continues events from #37! Damian's back with a bang lol

#38-40 Superpower

Damian adjusting to having superpowers and being alive again

Annual #1 2013 Batman Impossible

sweet (and funny) one-shot of Damian sending Bruce on a meaningful scavenger hunt around the world while Damian gets to be the cutest Batman for a bit

Annual #2 2014 Batman and Robin: Week One

one-shot takes place during Damian's absence. after Bruce and Alfred find a mystery gift left for Dick, Dick recounts a story he had told Damian from his Robin days.

Annual #3 2015 Moonshot

one-shot Batman and Robin adventure on the moon!

...and of course after Batman and Robin (2011), Damian's story continues in his first solo Robin: Son of Batman (2015)!

[teenagemutantninjatrauma]

Yeah I’m sure this is what normal people spend their time doing. Anyways have his stupid face <3

[kandicon]

Actually I really wanna write a role reversal gerrymichael au and let me be so, so transparent when I say it is literally just bc I wanna fantasize about the tall, gangly blond man beating monsters to death

Everyone else has the same roles. Mary Keay is still Mary Keay in all her abusive and obsessive glory; Gertrude is still the Archivist.

Vaguely spiral aligned Michael who Does Not Like It. Pretends his connection is a hell of a lot looser than it is.

The only benefit (that Michael thinks of the Spiral) is how he can move around the Institute with relatively little interference and watch, after all, it is hard to behold something that is both nothing and everything and never was all at the same time.

Gerry ran away from home really young and actually succeeded. Spent a few years fucking around and learning what kind of benches are best to sleep on before applying to the Magnus Institute because that's what his dad did. He lied to hell and back on the application, but was hired quickly because of how thoroughly touched by the entities he was (thanks Mary) and Gertrude was running low on assistants. Gerry also felt completely justified in faking stuff and that he was perfectly qualified bc he grew up in a bookshop and how much different could it be (very different, as it turns out).

They first meet each other when Michael is prowling through artefact storage like it was a shopping mall, and pocketing everything he saw that didn't immediately mesmerize him. He was nervous and jumpy as all hell, even though this was not the first time he's done something similar and he's fairly certain Gertrude doesn't care, so when Gerry first spotted him from behind, he was immediately suspicious even before he saw Michael try to shove a lamp into his jacket pocket. This led to an altercation that eventually led to the lamp being accidentally turned on, Michael smashing it to pieces with a hammer Gerry had not realized Michael had, and Gerry suddenly being a lot more consciously aware of the supernatural than he was.

Gerry's mother was still obsessive over Lighteners, and she didn't make an effort to hide what she did, but she didn't actively try to educate Gerry on anything to do with the Fears. So he is fairly knowledgeable on the supernatural, but he doesn't know anything concrete about the Fears themselves and their categorization. The role of a stand by sacrifice instead of an errand boy and heir.

Michael still trusts Gertrude, but this time he knows he shouldn't and hates himself for it. Gerry wants to trust Gertrude, and she does hide him from anything Fears related and behaves around him like she did Michael in cannon, but he just feels something off about her and doesn't like it. She's just a bit too much like his mother for him to let his guard down.

Michael gets referred to by "it/its" pronouns once by Gerry as a teasing joke before Gerry fully knows what he is and is absolutely terrified by how happy the pronouns make his feel. (He thinks, maybe, that the Michael of his childhood liked something similar, too, but everything too far back is all twisted and he doesn't know what has been touched by the Spiral and what hasn't, so he doesn't trust any of it). He/it Michael ftw

At one point Michael just started putting black lipstick on himself because some of Gerry's always stuck to him when they kissed anyways n this gave them plausible deniability. Michael will never admit to the little spiral thrill it gives him when people do a double take upon seeing his face, the black lipstick contrasting literally everything else about his style.

Gabriel attempted to track Michael down exactly once, a few years before he joined the institute. He had heard about Michael's unsavory... Hobby... (<- reckless destruction of artefacts and throwing himself at all monsters and avatars he sees with a murderous rage regardless of their affiliation) but spiral avatars capable of holding a conversation are so few and far between and the Great Twisting was almost prepared, so he thought a meeting would be worth it. He showed up at a cafe Michael frequented one day expecting lovely, but tense, conversation, only to promptly lit on fire (mostly) in the back alley behind the cafe after he introduced himself. Gabriel survived, but some of his clay body still hardens unexpectedly or shows signs of firing from time to time.

Occasionally Michael's eyes will change colors and shapes, so he likes to put contacts in (he used to just use tinted glasses, but after one time of Gerry getting lost in his eyes in the far too literal, not at all romantic, sense, he decided to invest in smth a bit harder to take off and forget about). Unfortunately, this sometimes means other, very much not his original eyes will pop up around his body and in his hair as protest when he puts them in. It's not very fun to have to chase off eyes at 6am, but he does it regardless and complains the whole time about how he shouldn't have to deal with eyes when he very clearly isn't of The Eye.

Gerry: Oh hey you were running pretty late. I was starting to get worried.

Michael, not about to admit he spent an extra thirty minutes to get ready yelling and brandishing a lighter at a door that was following him around like a lost puppy: Ummmmmm I forgot my wallet. :((

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[chaosduckies]

Hey, I kinda sunk into the Restoration story because of your art block ask (I am going to draw it, dw! I'm just learning Nathan's character for now.)

Gosh is your writing so awesome!!!

Like- the fearplay, the way Nathan is basically me if I weren't having those awful "Class Clown Moments", EVERYTHING!!!

(I'm only on part 7 but oh god am I gonna bookworm the entire story and the other three oneshots)

Im so glad you like it! :D I wanted this story to be more fearplay and fluff so I guess I accomplished that!

I also have a few pictures of him somewhere if you look under his tag if that would help with the drawing. Thank you again! You of course didn’t have to draw him if you didn’t want to, but if you do thank you!

[articskele]

Dude I think your oc is giving me brainrot because I had a dream where Artic was in a cave and the Once-ler was all curled up looking sad and scared so Artic went up to him and cuddled him. (The reason why he was scared was because he was cursed to turn into a shadow creature. So as he was transforming Artic was just holding him. Also Artic sounded british?? I have no idea what your HC voice for her is but she sounded like Rose Tyler from Doctor who in my dream.)

OUGHGHGHHH I'm having so many thoughts about this-

Right off the bat the concept of a cursed shadowy Onceler reminds me of these posts!!

And caves!! In the valley!! I had already been thinking about em bc of the concept art, something about the valley at night just says "there's a cave behind that waterfall" to me lol

The Onceler running away, maybe because he didn't want Artic to get hurt, maybe because he feared what would happen if she saw him like this.

Maybe, just for a moment, he flinches as Artic reaches for him. Because no matter how badly he wants comfort, he can't help but worry if this curse is contagious or if he'll grow spikes or something.

But once she holds his face in her hands and pulls him in for a hug, the poor man just clings to her the entire time. The steady sound of her heartbeat giving him something to focus on…

There’s this scene of her just. Holding the Onceler so so gently asking if it hurts and it breaks my HEART. THEY'RE SO IN LOVE YOUR HONOR

Artic getting up to take off her wings and set them aside, and he panics a little like "Don't- Don't go" but she reassures him that she's not going anywhere.

I still love you, yknow. No matter what happens, no matter how you look by the end of this... You're still the boy I fell in love with.

RAAAAAAAUGH

I can only imagine what the transformation must feel like. The crickle crackle of bones beneath dark fur. The inexplicable feeling of light fading inside him. Forever standing in the shade, just cold enough to prickle at your skin. Left cold and hollow save for bright yellow eyes, longing for the sunlight.

Maybe his freckles turned white or glow in the dark, something something not all the light is gone, not all hope is lost because someone was there for him.

Maybe he can't be in the sunlight for very long, which is devastating for the guy, but Artic makes a little umbrella contraption for him ouo

And that could be one of the reasons he went to a cave! The light was giving him a really bad headache and he needed to get somewhere darker

And she makes him specialized gloves to help him play the guitar with those hand paws!

Also Artic nuzzling his chest bc he's soft and fuzzy -u-

Woe, british Artic be upon ye aksfjdf- I looked up some clips of that gal and she sounds nice! Canonically Artic just has my irl voice ouo

[jichanxo]

nakamura-kun, from the school library (from my itokura-kitakata fic i've been working on)

[licorishh]

Genshin characters age headcanons masterlist (updated)

Yeah. I could give you many reasons why I believe some of the more debatable/"controversial" ones are very sensible and Good based on just freaking paying attention to context given in the game but for now I'll just compile a basic list. If you'd like to hear my reasoning for some of these you're welcome to ask as long as you're polite about it.

List under the cut.

Aether/Lumine: 19

Amber: 18

Kaeya: 22

Lisa: 33

Barbara: 17

Razor: 16

Xiangling: 16

Beidou: 29

Xingqiu: 15

Fischl: 19

Ningguang: 31

Bennett: 18

Noelle: 18

Chongyun: 16

Sucrose: 20

Jean: 21

Diluc: 22

Qiqi: 6-8 (Hard to tell given she's a zombie and talks and acts differently from normal)

Mona: 20

Keqing: 21

Venti: 20 (biologically)

Klee: 7-ish?

Diona: She's so hard because she literally runs a business and acts like an adult but she's super short. I have no idea.

Tartaglia: 21

Xinyan: 19

Zhongli: 37

Albedo: 21

Ganyu: 23

Xiao: 20

Hu Tao: 18

Rosaria: 23

Yanfei: 21

Eula: 24

Kazuha: 20

Ayaka: 18

Sayu: 9- or 10-ish maybe?

Yoimiya: 18

Kujou Sara: 24

Raiden: 28 (biologically)

Kokomi: 18

Thoma: 20

Gorou: 18

Itto: 26

Yun Jin: 19

Shenhe: 23

Yae Miko: 30

Ayato: 26

Yelan: 24

Shinobu: 20

Heizou: 21

Collei: 16

Tighnari: 22

Dori: Super hard to tell, because again, she lives alone and runs a business by herself despite using the short girl model.

Candace: 24

Cyno: 23

Nilou: 21

Nahida: 7-9

Layla: 18-19 (she seems to maybe be in her first year of college - definitely in college, I'm just guessing the year here)

Faruzan: 24 (I know she's like a hundred years older but she was stuck and didn't age and I'm talking biologically still)

Scaramouche: 21 (biologically)

Yaoyao: 7-ish?

Alhaitham: 26

Dehya: 25

Mika: 17

Kaveh: 27

Baizhu: 34

Kirara: 20

Lynette: 20

Lyney: 20

Freminet: 17 (Don't know how much younger he is than his siblings, just guessing based on context and the way he talks and acts)

Furina: 21 (biologically)

Neuvillette: 36 (biologically)

Wriothesley: 32

Navia: 26

Clorinde: 27

Sigewinne: Basically impossible to know as she's a Melusine and not a human

Charlotte: 21

Signora: 29

Dottore: 33

Arlecchino: 31

Dainsleif: 22 (biologically)

[slumbergoblin]

huh

[dirtytransmasc]

The 3 sibs are fucking menaces. Like General Ardmore was fucking down to let Quaritch and the recoms take responsibility because 'Jesus fuck get them out of here'

I imagine that due to them adopting Spider as their brother at a young age they ended up spending a lot of time with the humans that remained at Hell's Gate (might have even taken to living in the old Avatar area) and likely picked up on a lot.

Like they know tech better than any Na'vi, and it's mildly terrifying for humans when they realize that these 3 siblings know shit.

I also imagine that they might have become a bit disconnected with the Omaticaya, not anything super big, but their insistence that Spider is their brother probably hindered them getting adopted by a Omaticaya couple.

But the recoms probably are so confused when they learn that Norm fucking Spellman is the one who technically raised these feral gremlin children. Sure they are smart as shit but God damn these kids are jumping out of a moving helicopter into the fucking trees.

Don't get me started on Quaritch's and the recoms reactions to the story of when the little brother tried (and nearly succeeded) in mounting/claiming an adolescent Thanator.

AKA the giant deadly space cat who's na'vi name literally translates to dry mouth fear of death.

(Also the heart attack Quaritch gets when he sees them tossing Spider between them like a sack of potatoes. I do not doubt for a second these kids haven't developed a 'system' when it comes to traveling with Spider.)

I love how not even cut-throat Ardmore, she doesn't care what possible information she could get from them, she want them off of the premises asap.

so that leaves a group of morally complicated, adult-teenage-newborns, with 3 young adults that will make it their life goal to be the biggest thorn in the sides, but also to flip the recoms on their heads.

sometimes the questions aren't even asked to try and tie the recoms brains in knots, sometimes they genuinely want to know. other times they ask question that are meant to make the recoms question everything. they love the chaos, but also watching the recoms change, watching them become na'vi.

on top of it all they're wicked smart, they're always helping out, both technologically and in the field, they clearly know a shit ton about jake and his little possy, they were raised by spellman after all, but they're loyal, they don't say anything. but that's strangely fine with all the recoms (aka, they stopped caring about their mission and only do whats necessary to please ardmore, but shhh, they haven't realized that yet, if they do, they may implode).

and the amount of worry quaritch develops for these kids is unreal, and like, this guy's military, so every night he checks on them like 10 times a night, at first cause he didn't trust them, but it slowly turned into him just worrying about them. he normally takes nightly rounds so he's always going through the effort of climbing into whatever tree they've nested themselves in and just watching for a moment. those are his kids, in some way, he knows it.

so when they really start doing stupid shit, he feels his heart age 50 years. he worries everytime they fool around on the ikran, everytime they fuck with the wildlife, everytime they climb to high for his taste. he's just a big old bag of anxiety.

[mechahero]

Character headcanon generator - 10 headcanons! Generate 10 headcanons and share whether they're true or not. Repost, don't reblog.

Lambda has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory. (Not true. His long and short-term memory are fricked to hell in back. #untreated ADHD BABEYYY)

Lambda speaks only in meme references. (Not true. For all the time he spends on the internet, he rarely picks up on memes.)

Lambda can beat you up, but wont. (True... to an extent. He usually needs a fairly good reason to do so.)

Lambda hacks their stats in every video game they play. (Not true. He likes to play video games as is.)

Lambda enjoys doing taxes. (Not true. This guy has not done taxes ever in his life. Unless you count item tax when he heads out of town to get groceries he can't find in Motor City.)

It would not take much for Lambda to turn evil. (... technically true. All it would take would for there to be an event that's far too much for him to handle to happen before Lambda says fuck it and starts behaving like the genuinely terrifying monster he's been turned into on a widespread scale.)

Lambda is a very good singer. (True but only a bit. He's decent.)

Lambda is afraid of doing anything without their parent's permission. (True but only pre cyborgification. He used to be downright terrified of doing something without their permission, usually his mother's, because going out and doing it anyway meant coming home to get hit for it.)

Lambda can't sit in a chair properly. (True. If he finds a way to sit that's comfier than how you're supposed to sit in a chair, he's going to do it.)

Tagged by: stole it from @electricea lol Tagging: YOU 🫵