#like I'm mostly fine when I'm by myself but if I'm having to put on a Face I don't have any other method of getting the aggression out

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 5

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: A matchmaking event, a reckless plan, and a game that cuts a little too deep—because playing with fire always has consequences

wc: 8.3k (Chapter 5/?)

a/n: I'm reading all the reviews you're leaving, and it's filling me with so much joy, seriously, thank you so much! I promise I'll eventually get around to replying to them all, but for now, just know that I've seen them, I appreciate every single one, and they are absolutely fuelling me to get these chapters out faster. If I had to stare at this chapter any longer, I was genuinely going to throw myself off a cliff, so here it is before I lose my mind. I don’t know, I hope you like it!

And just a heads-up—ratings have officially gone up 🔥 y'all better handle this with care.

Ch. 4 ch. 6

also on ao3

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The next few weeks flew by in a blur of routine and mild frustration. I’d gotten used to maneuvering on crutches though not without my fair share of near-disasters and before long, I was downgraded to a boot. A clunky, annoying boot, but it was better than nothing. And now, I was almost out of it, counting down the days until I could finally move like a normal person again.

Lilia had been... Lilia. Ever present, always hovering just enough to make sure I wasn’t doing anything too reckless, but never crossing the line into anything that could be considered more. There were lingering touches, soft smiles, and the occasional meaningful glance, but nothing had really progressed.

And, honestly? That was fine.

Mostly.

Between the shop being surprisingly busy and my friends constantly roping me into their latest schemes, fundraisers, work drama, and questionable life choices. I barely had time to dwell on it. I liked keeping busy, helping where I could, and throwing myself into distraction after distraction. It was easier than thinking about how much I wanted Lilia but didn’t know how to move things forward.

Some days, it felt like we were stuck in this comfortable, frustrating limbo. We'd laugh, we’d bicker, we'd work side by side in the shop, but there was always this invisible line neither of us was willing to cross.

Still, things were good.

Lilia was still a mystery I was determined to solve, even if she sometimes acted like an impenetrable fortress. But there were moments, tiny cracks in the walls she put up. The way she’d refill my tea without asking, or how she’d linger at the end of my shift, pretending to read while really just making sure I got home safely. The way she’d watch me when she thought I wasn’t looking, like she was thinking about something.

And those moments? They were enough to keep me going. For now.

One afternoon, as I hobbled around the shop stocking shelves, I sighed dramatically. "Lilia, please, I cannot wait to be out of this boot. I feel like Frankenstein’s monster."

Lilia smirked from behind the counter, flipping through an old grimoire. "You only have to wait till this afternoon."

I shot her a glare. "Rude."

She chuckled, but there was that usual softness behind it, the kind that made my heart skip a little. "You'll be back to your reckless self soon enough. I'm sure I'll regret it."

I grinned. "Oh, you will. First thing I'm doing is dancing barefoot on the counter just to spite you."

Lilia rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she just said, "I'll keep the first aid kit ready."

I snorted, limping toward the register. "You should always have that thing on standby with me around."

"Trust me," she said dryly. "I do."

The bell above the shop door jingled, and before I could process it, Jen and Agatha waltzed in like they owned the place.

"Y/n!" Jen beamed. "Still hobbling around, I see."

Agatha leaned on the counter, eyeing Lilia with that devilish glint in her eye. "And, you're still under Lilia's watchful eye, huh?"

Lilia arched a brow. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Jen smirked at me. "Oh, it's not a bad thing at all."

I groaned. "Guys, please."

Agatha ignored me, grinning. "Anyway, y/n, you up for helping me with something later?"

I sighed, already knowing I was about to get roped into something ridiculous. "What is it this time?"

Jen wiggled her brows. "Oh, you know, just a little... matchmaking event."

I blinked. "No."

Lilia, to my absolute horror, looked very interested. "Matchmaking?"

Agatha smirked. "Yeah. You in?"

Lilia, without missing a beat, looked directly at me and said, "I think y/n should go."

My jaw dropped. "What?!"

Lilia’s lips curled into that maddening smirk. "It could be... fun."

I groaned, slamming my head onto the counter. "I hate all of you."

Lilia just sipped her tea, looking far too pleased with herself. "You'll survive, baby."

“What exactly is a matchmaking event?”

Jen leaned against the counter, grinning like the devil she clearly was. "Oh, y/n," she purred, eyes sparkling with mischief. "A matchmaking event is exactly what it sounds like."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And why, exactly, do you think I need to attend one?"

Agatha smirked, completely ignoring my very valid concern. "It's a charity event, actually. Think of it like speed dating, but fancier, cocktails, music, a little light mingling." She waved a hand dramatically. "People will bid on dates, there'll be matchmaking games, the whole romantic shebang."

I groaned. "You have to be kidding me."

Billy, who had apparently appeared out of thin air (or just snuck in without me noticing), clapped his hands together. "Oh no, she's not kidding, and I am so excited for this."

Lilia, who had been sipping her tea silently this whole time, finally spoke up, eyes fixed on me in that infuriatingly calm way she had. "I think it’s an excellent idea."

I gaped at her. "Et tu, Lilia?!"

She shrugged, setting her cup down with a smirk. "You did say you were bored."

Agatha nodded sagely. "Exactly! And what better way to pass the time than by meeting some... interesting people?"

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Oh my God, no. I am not getting auctioned off to the highest bidder like a damn prize goat."

Jen laughed. "Oh, come on. It’s for charity! Think of it as... networking."

Billy wiggled his brows. "With benefits."

Lilia quirked an eyebrow, but there was something sharp in her eyes now, something that made my stomach flip. "You never know, y/n," she said smoothly, "maybe you'll find someone... intriguing."

I stared at her, heat rising to my cheeks. Was she actually encouraging this?

I pointed an accusing finger at the coven. "You’re all just doing this to watch me suffer, aren’t you?"

Agatha grinned. "Absolutely."

Billy winked. "One hundred percent."

Jen shrugged. "You should be used to it by now."

I sighed, sinking onto the nearest chair. "This is actually my worst nightmare."

Lilia, standing far too composed and far too smug, leaned against the counter. "You'll do fine, baby."

And the way she said it, soft, teasing, but with just enough of an edge, made me wonder if she was enjoying this a little too much.

I stared at Lilia for a long moment, watching the way she casually sipped her tea, completely unbothered by the absolute chaos the coven was throwing at me. Mixed signals? Oh, she was full of them. She’d spent weeks hovering, making sure I didn’t overdo it, looking after me with a quiet protectiveness, and now she was totally fine with me flirting with other people?

Okay, Lilia.

Fine. If she wanted to play it cool, I could play it colder.

With a wicked smirk, I crossed my arms and leaned back into my chair. "Alright," I said, shrugging. "I'll do it."

The coven exploded.

"YES!" Billy practically fist-pumped.

Jen beamed. "Oh, this is going to be so good."

Agatha cackled. "I knew you'd come around."

But I didn’t take my eyes off Lilia, watching for any flicker of emotion behind that carefully composed exterior of hers. She raised a brow, looking mildly impressed but ultimately unfazed. “Good for you,” she said, nodding. “You’ll enjoy yourself.”

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I smiled sweetly. “Yeah, maybe I’ll meet someone intriguing, like you said.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “Perhaps.”

Ugh.

I was going to do this. Not because I wanted to, but because if Lilia was going to keep up this whole mysterious and unattainable older woman thing, then I was going to make her watch me flirt with someone else.

By the time I got back from the hospital that evening, boot-free and feeling like I had reclaimed my dignity, I was on a mission.

I went all out.

I pulled out one of my best dresses, the kind that hugged in all the right places, paired it with strappy low heels— I wasn’t about to push my luck after just recovering from a broken leg — and topped it all off with red lipstick. My hair was styled to perfection. 

I looked in the mirror and grinned. Damn, I missed dressing up.

Before I left, I snapped a quick selfie and sent it to the group chat.

Me: Ready to break hearts tonight.

Billy responded instantly.

Billy: BABE. I AM DEAD.

Jen: GIRL, THEY WON'T SURVIVE YOU.

Agatha: Show Lilia. Right now.

I rolled my eyes, typing back.

Me: No way. Let her suffer.

I grabbed my clutch, took one last glance in the mirror, and smirked.

Lilia Calderu had no idea what she was in for.

I arrived at the venue, the heels clicking confidently against the pavement as I made my way inside. The place was fancier than I expected, soft lighting, elegant decor, and the kind of crowd that screamed money meets desperation.

I spotted Agatha immediately, standing near the bar with a drink in hand, watching me approach with an impressed smirk. Her eyes swept over me from head to toe, and she let out a low whistle. “Damn, y/n. If I weren’t rooting for Lilia, I’d bid on you myself.”

I rolled my eyes, planting myself in front of her. “Alright, what do I need to do?” I asked, folding my arms.

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Eager, are we?”

I sighed, eyeing the bustling room. “Let’s just say I’ve been encouraged.”

She chuckled, handing me a glass of champagne like she hadn’t practically dragged me here. “Alright, here’s how it works. There are three... let’s call them options.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Go on.”

Agatha held up a perfectly manicured finger. “Option one—the bidding auction. People bid for a date with you.”

I groaned. “Hard pass.”

Ignoring me, she lifted a second finger. “Option two—the matchmaking questionnaire. You fill it out, they set you up with someone they think is compatible.”

I stared at her. “Do I look like someone who’s here for a deep connection?”

Agatha smirked. “No, you look like someone here to make a certain divination witch jealous as hell.”

I didn’t deny it. “And option three?”

Agatha smirked, holding up the final finger. “And then there’s option three... mingling, flirting, working the room.” She gestured grandly at the crowd. “And, honestly, that’s where you shine.”

I sighed, taking a slow sip of champagne. “And which one exactly do you want me to do?”

Agatha’s grin stretched impossibly wider. “Oh, baby, I didn’t bring you here to find your soulmate.” She winked. “I brought you here to make Lilia Calderu jealous as hell. So, option three it is.”

I arched a brow. “And if she doesn’t show up?”

Agatha shrugged. “Then at least you’ll have some fun and free champagne.”

I sighed, finishing my drink. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Agatha grinned, looping her arm through mine. “That’s the spirit. Now, go mingle. And remember, eye contact, light touches, and laugh at everything.”

I groaned but let her pull me toward the crowd. This was going to be... interesting.

I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back and putting on my most dazzling smile. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

Armed with another glass of champagne and Agatha’s ridiculous advice bouncing around in my head, I stepped into the crowd, letting myself glide from conversation to conversation. I laughed, I touched arms lightly, I made just enough eye contact to keep people interested without giving too much away.

And through it all, one thought lingered in the back of my mind.

Please show up, Lilia.

I scanned the room subtly, pretending to be fully invested in whatever some guy in a ridiculous suit was rambling about, but my heart wasn’t in it. I could feel the absence of her. Could feel the weight of her not being here.

The evening dragged on, and despite the flattering attention I was getting, more than I knew what to do with, there was an ache in my chest that wouldn’t quite go away.

I found myself standing near a group of women, effortlessly charming my way through another conversation, when I caught myself staring toward the entrance for the millionth time.

Nothing.

I sighed internally, feeling my excitement wane just a little.

But just as I turned back to my conversation, I caught a shift in the air. A presence.

And then I saw her.

Lilia Calderu, standing in the doorway like she owned the place, dressed in a simple but devastatingly effective black dress, nothing overly elegant, just effortlessly put together, the fabric skimming her figure in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her dark curls were loosely pinned up, a few strands escaping to frame her face, and those brown eyes of hers scanned the room with sharp intent, missing nothing.

My heart stopped.

She looked... incredible.

Her gaze locked onto me almost instantly, and I saw the way her eyes flickered over my dress, my posture, the easy way I was leaning against the table with a glass of champagne in hand and a smile that may have been a little too smug.

For a second, I thought she might turn around and leave, but instead, she walked in with the kind of calm, deliberate grace that made my stomach twist into knots.

Agatha, appearing by my side out of nowhere, whispered, “And there she is.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I thought she wasn’t coming.”

Agatha smirked. “She didn’t think she was coming. But then she realised she couldn’t let you have all the fun without her.”

I watched as Lilia made her way through the crowd, her expression unreadable, but her eyes, her eyes, never left me.

I forced myself to smirk, turning back to the group I was talking to, making a show of tossing my hair over my shoulder and laughing lightly at something someone said. But my heart was pounding.

Lilia Calderu was here. And she was watching me.

Game on.

I took a slow sip of my champagne, letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue as I kept my posture relaxed, my smile effortlessly charming. I could feel her gaze burning into me from across the room, sharp and assessing, but I didn’t look her way, not yet.

If she wanted to watch, I’d give her a damn show.

“So, y/n,” the woman beside me purred, leaning in just a little too close. “You never told me what you do for a living.”

I smiled, tilting my head coyly. “Oh, you know... a little bit of everything,” I said smoothly, trailing a finger along the rim of my glass. “Keeps life interesting.”

I swore I could hear Lilia’s scoff from across the room, and it took everything in me not to grin.

Agatha, who was lingering nearby, nudged me under the table with her foot. “Subtle,” she whispered, her tone practically dripping with glee. “She’s watching you like a hawk.”

I shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. “Let her.”

I felt her familiar presence before I even saw her. Lilia’s energy was intense, heavy and magnetic, drawing people in without her even trying. And then, just as I was laughing at something unremarkable, I saw her appear at the edge of my vision, standing beside the group with her arms crossed, a neutral expression on her face.

But her eyes? Her eyes told an entirely different story.

They flicked from the woman leaning too close to me, to my lips, and then, finally, locked onto mine.

I arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Lilia,” I greeted, taking another slow sip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into that maddeningly subtle smirk. “Neither did I.”

Agatha, not missing a beat, grinned and chimed in. “Lilia! Finally decided to join the fun?”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t leave mine as she responded, “I suppose someone had to keep an eye on y/n.”

“Oh, I think I’m doing just fine on my own,” I shot back, playful but pointed.

Lilia’s lips twitched. “So I see.” Her gaze dragged over me, slowly, taking in every inch of my dress, my posture, the way I was standing just close enough to the woman next to me to imply interest.

I held her gaze, my heart racing. “You know, you could’ve just stayed home,” I teased, my voice dropping just a bit. “No need to check up on me.”

Lilia stepped closer, leaning in just enough that I could catch the faint scent of her perfume. “Maybe I just wanted to watch?”

I swallowed, my bravado slipping just slightly.

Agatha, watching the exchange like it was the best thing to ever happen to her, nudged me again and whispered, just for me to hear, “You’re losing, babe.”

I straightened up, regaining my composure, and smirked at Lilia. “Well, since you’re here... maybe I should introduce you to some people.” I gestured to the woman beside me, who looked suddenly very interested in this new development. “This is—”

But before I could finish, Lilia reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering a second too long. The touch sent a shiver down my spine.

“Enjoy yourself, baby,” she murmured, her voice low and full of something I couldn’t quite place. “Don’t let me stop you.”

And with that, she stepped back, leaving me absolutely reeling.

Agatha burst into laughter. “Oh my God, she is so playing you.”

I clenched my jaw, staring at Lilia’s retreating figure as she casually wandered toward the bar, looking as cool and composed as ever.

Oh, hell no.

I was not about to let Lilia Calderu waltz in here, throw me off my game with a well-timed smirk and a touch that lingered just enough to make my brain short-circuit. If she thought she could walk away with the upper hand, she had another thing coming.

I plastered on my best grin and turned back to the woman next to me, who was still watching the whole exchange with keen interest. “Sorry about that,” I said smoothly, letting my fingers graze lightly over the rim of my glass. “Old friend.”

Lilia, who had just reached the bar, tilted her head slightly at my words, clearly listening in.

The woman smiled, intrigued. “Old friends who stare at you like they’d rather eat you alive?”

I laughed, but it wasn’t entirely fake. “She’s... complicated.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lilia's shoulders tense slightly. Gotcha.

Agatha, still lingering with a devilish glint in her eye, whispered in my ear, “Atta girl. Make her work for it.”

With renewed confidence, I turned my full attention to my current company, leaning in just enough to make it seem like I was entirely absorbed in our conversation. I laughed at all the right moments, let my hand casually brush against hers, and even threw in a little coy lip bite for good measure.

And Lilia saw every second of it.

I could practically feel her eyes on me, dark and heavy, her carefully composed façade slipping by degrees.

When I dared a glance her way, I caught her watching with that unreadable expression, cool, detached, but with a flicker of something darker beneath. Jealousy? Annoyance? I wasn’t sure, but I liked it.

Still, she didn’t approach.

Fine. If she wanted to play it that way, I’d push a little harder.

I tilted my head back, laughing at something the woman said, making sure my posture screamed confidence, my neck arched just enough to be noticeable. And then, as casually as I could manage, I said loudly enough for Lilia to hear, “You know, I was a little nervous about coming tonight, but... I think I’m really enjoying myself.”

From across the room, I saw Lilia’s grip tighten around her glass.

Agatha, ever the enabler, had appeared at the bar, bit back a grin and leaned against the bar near Lilia. “So, Lilia,” she said innocently, “what brings you here tonight? Surely not jealousy?”

Lilia’s eyes flickered with something sharp, but she simply took a sip of her drink, her voice smooth as silk. “Just making sure y/n doesn’t get herself into too much trouble.”

“Oh, I think she’s handling herself just fine,” Agatha teased, shooting me a wink.

I smirked, running a hand down my hip and throwing Lilia a pointed glance before turning back to my conversation.

But before I could say another word, Lilia appeared at my side, moving silently and suddenly. Her presence was commanding, and I felt it in every nerve of my body.

“Y/n,” she said smoothly, her voice velvety and low. “A word?”

The woman next to me raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” she said, clearly amused. “I think I’ll leave you to it.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding, but I kept my smirk firmly in place. “Of course, Lilia.”

She led me away from the crowd, her hand resting lightly on my lower back, just enough to own the situation, just enough to remind me exactly who I was dealing with.

Once we were in a quieter corner, she turned to face me, crossing her arms and raising a brow. “Having fun?”

I shrugged, playing it cool. “I was.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but her gaze sharpened, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “You’re walking a fine line, baby.”

I tilted my head, stepping closer, pushing just enough. “Maybe I like the edge.”

Her eyes darkened, and for the first time all night, I wondered if I’d pushed too far. But instead of pulling away, she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear, sending shivers straight down my spine.

“Careful,” she murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth. “You might find yourself wanting something you can’t have.”

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my cool. “Maybe I’m tired of waiting.”

Lilia’s expression remained unreadable, her head tilting just slightly.  “Getting ahead of yourself, baby.”

I exhaled sharply, biting back the urge to roll my eyes. “And you love dragging this out, don’t you?”

She made a soft, thoughtful sound, her gaze sweeping over me like she was deciding just how much she wanted to let me have. “Mmm. Maybe. Or maybe you’re seeing something that isn’t there.”

Heat curled in my stomach, frustration and want tangled together, her eyes flicked down to my lips for half a second, just long enough for me to notice, but before I could say anything, she let out a slow, almost teasing sigh and stepped back, putting space between us. “Go on, baby. Enjoy your night.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me reeling.

Agatha appeared at my side almost immediately. “So... that looked intense.”

I took a deep breath, my heart racing. “I think I might be losing.”

And honestly? I didn’t want to play this game anymore.

Agatha grinned. “No, babe. You’re both losing.”

I groaned. “Great.”

I huffed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as I watched Lilia disappear back into the crowd with that same frustrating grace she always carried. I turned to Agatha, my lips pursed in irritation. “You know what? I don’t want to do this matchmaking thing.”

Agatha, ever perceptive, didn’t even argue. She just sipped her drink and gave me a knowing nod. “Of course, no problem.”

I blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smirked, leaning against the bar. “I know when you’ve had enough, y/n. And right now, you look like you're two seconds away from murdering someone.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. “Yeah, I think I just... I need to go home.”

Agatha nodded, patting my arm. “Good call. Go home, take a bubble bath, and—”

“Eat my feelings?”

Agatha grinned. “Exactly.”

I gave her a small smile, grateful she wasn’t pushing. “Thanks, Aggie.”

She winked. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll gossip later.”

I nodded, weaving my way through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances and the lingering presence of Lilia somewhere in the room.

By the time I stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a long breath. The tension that had been building inside me all evening eased slightly, but the frustration was still simmering beneath the surface.

Because despite everything, the flirting, the teasing, the stupid mixed signals, Lilia still managed to keep me at arm's length. And I was tired of playing the waiting game.

As I made my way home, heels clicking against the pavement, I couldn't help but feel like I had just walked away from a fight I wasn't even sure I wanted to win anymore.

I made it home, kicking off my heels the second I stepped through the door. The silence of my apartment felt jarring after the noise and chaos of the event, but it was exactly what I needed. No prying eyes, no teasing coven, and most importantly, no Lilia.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and downing it in one go. The adrenaline from earlier was fading, leaving me feeling tired, annoyed, and... a little disappointed.

The evening had started off fun, with the whole “make Lilia jealous” plan in full swing. But somewhere along the way, it had stopped being about teasing her and started feeling like something else. Something heavier.

I wanted her to chase me. I wanted her to want me.

But instead, she just kept pulling back, staying in that frustrating space of almost.

I flopped onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts spiral.

Maybe she really doesn’t feel the same way.

Maybe the age gap is too much for her.

Maybe I’m just a fun distraction to her.

I groaned, tossing a pillow over my face. “Ugh, stupid.”

Just as I was debating whether to text Agatha and unload my feelings, my phone buzzed against my thigh.

I grabbed it, half expecting it to be one of my friends checking in, but my breath caught when I saw the name on the screen.

Lilia.

I stared at it for a beat, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Was she going to scold me for leaving early? Check on me? Or just... toy with me some more?

Taking a deep breath, I swiped to answer. “Hello?”

There was a pause, then Lilia’s voice, soft and measured. “You left.”

I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, I did. I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

Another pause. “I see.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you call just to state the obvious, Lilia?”

She hummed, and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “Maybe.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Lilia.”

She sighed, and for a moment, I thought she might actually say something real. But then—

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

My heart did that stupid little flutter thing, but I pushed it down, forcing a casual tone. “I’m fine. I always am.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a second, I thought maybe she’d hung up. But then—

“I shouldn’t have encouraged you to go,” she admitted quietly.

I swallowed, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. “Why did you?”

She didn’t answer right away, and when she did, it was softer than I expected. “Because I wanted to see what you’d do.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling frustration bubble up again. “And? Did you enjoy the show?”

Lilia exhaled, something close to a chuckle, but there was an edge to it. “More than I should have.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Another pause. “So I’ve been told.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Go to bed, Lilia.”

“You too, baby,” she murmured, and before I could come up with a snarky response, the call ended.

My heart pounding, frustration and something else, something deeper, swirling in my chest.

I stared at my phone for all of ten seconds before I muttered, "No, fuck this." Without thinking any further, I tapped Lilia’s number and called her back.

She answered almost immediately, her voice a little softer, maybe a little surprised. “y/n?”

“You’re confusing,” I blurted out, pacing back and forth in my living room, frustration bubbling over. “You are so confusing, Lilia.”

Silence.

I didn’t care, I was on a roll now. “You flirt with me, you pull away, you get all soft and caring, and then you act like none of it happened. And I keep trying to play it cool, keep waiting for you to make up your damn mind, but you never do.”

She didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t stopping.

“And fuck you and this whole age gap excuse, because that’s what it is now, Lilia. It’s an excuse. You keep telling yourself that’s the problem, but it’s not. You flirt with me, you want me, and then you shut me out like it never happened. I’m tired, Lilia. I’m so tired.”

I paused, breathing hard, and then it hit me. My eyes widened as I blurted, “And you never even gave me my underwear back!”

I was hysterical. 

I could hear Lilia inhale sharply on the other end, and for a second, I thought she might say something, anything. But all I got was silence.

And that silence was worse than if she’d yelled at me.

I swallowed hard, my anger deflating into something... heavier. More raw. My voice softened, and I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling the weight of it settle in my chest. “I shouldn’t be yelling at you.”

Still, she said nothing, and it was starting to hurt more than I thought it could.

I took a shaky breath. “I’m done, Lilia. I can’t take any more.” My throat tightened, and I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “It hurts too much.”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of my breathing and the faint static of the line. Then, finally, Lilia’s voice came through, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

“Y/n...”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Don’t.”

Another pause. Then she sighed, long and slow, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well... you did.”

Silence again, and I could almost imagine her, standing in her shop, looking down at the floor with that troubled frown she always wore when she was thinking too hard.

After another beat, she said, “I—” but she cut herself off, like she couldn’t finish the sentence.

I shook my head, wiping at my eyes. “Lilia, I can’t do this anymore. Not unless you actually want me. Not unless you’re willing to admit it.”

There was a pause. Then, finally, so quietly it nearly shattered me, she said, “I do.”

I froze, my heart slamming in my chest. “What?”

“I do,” Lilia repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I didn’t know how to.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Then why are you pushing me away?”

There was a long silence before she finally admitted, “Because I’m scared.”

I felt something shift inside me, my anger melting into something softer. “Scared of what?”

Lilia sighed again, and this time, she sounded... tired. Vulnerable. “Of how much I want you.”

My lips parted, my throat suddenly dry. “Then stop running,” I said softly. “Please, Lilia. Just... stop.”

She was quiet for another long moment, and then— “Come over.”

My breath hitched. “What?”

“Come over,” she said again, a little stronger this time. “Now.”

I hesitated, my heart pounding. “Lilia, are you sure—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “Please.”

And just like that, I didn’t even hesitate. I grabbed my coat, shoved my feet into my shoes, and bolted out the door, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The night air was cool against my skin, but I barely registered it, I was too focused on getting to Lilia.

The drive to her shop felt endless, every red light an eternity, every turn slower than I wanted. My fingers tapped anxiously against the wheel, my thoughts racing.

She admitted it.

She finally admitted it.

But what did that mean? What was waiting for me when I got there?

By the time I pulled up outside her shop, I was a mess of nerves, my stomach churning with anticipation and something I couldn’t quite name. I parked and sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, trying to collect myself.

Come over, she’d said. Not “we need to talk,” not “I need to explain.” Just... come over.

I swallowed, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. The street was quiet this time of night, the shop windows dark except for the faint glow of a single light inside.

I knocked, and almost immediately, the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there, looking... different. Her usual confidence wasn’t as sharp around the edges tonight. Her hair was loose, curling naturally around her face, and she had changed into casual wear, soft sweater and leggings, barefoot.

Her dark eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

I exhaled shakily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied softly, stepping aside to let me in.

The familiar scent of her shop, incense, old books, and something distinctly her washed over me as I walked inside. She closed the door behind me, and the quiet settled around us like a heavy weight.

I turned to face her, my heart still racing. “I meant what I said, Lilia. I can’t do this anymore if you don’t—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. “I know, baby.”

The sound of her calling me that made my knees weak.

I swallowed. “Then why—”

Lilia took a slow step forward, her eyes locked onto mine. “Because I’ve spent a long time being careful, y/n. Too careful.”

I didn’t move, didn’t speak. I just let her talk.

“I told myself I couldn’t do this,” she continued, her voice quiet but sure. “That you deserved someone... younger. Someone with fewer complications. Someone who wouldn’t keep you waiting.”

I blinked, my throat tightening. “Lilia...”

She stepped closer, and this time, she reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over my wrist. “But you’re right. The age gap, the excuses... they’re just that. Excuses.”

I felt something break inside me, my breath hitching. “Then stop making them.”

Lilia looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see the struggle in her eyes, the hesitation, the longing, the fear. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she cupped my face in her hands, her thumb grazing lightly over my cheek.

“I’m done,” she whispered. “No more excuses.”

I barely had time to react before she kissed me.

Soft at first, hesitant, but then I melted into it, my hands gripping her waist as I kissed her back with everything I’d been holding in for weeks, months.

Lilia pressed closer, her body warm against mine, and I felt her exhale shakily into my mouth, like she was finally letting go of all the barriers she’d built between us. Like she wanted this just as badly as I did.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my forehead resting against hers. “Took you long enough,” I whispered, my lips curling into a smile.

Lilia chuckled, her fingers still ghosting over my jaw, thumb tracing my lower lip. “I know, baby. I know.”

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could finally breathe.

But Lilia barely gives me a second to recover before she’s grabbing my hand and pulling me through the shop, her grip firm, her steps hurried, almost reckless. I can barely keep up, my heart racing, my body already aching for her before we even make it to her bedroom.

And then I’m there, being pushed back onto the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath me as I look up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly.

She’s standing over me, eyes dark and burning with something dangerous, something I’ve been craving for so long. 

I moan, unabashedly, because fuck, she’s so hot.  The way she looks at me like she’s about to devour me whole, like she’s going to ruin me, like I’m something she’s been starving for.

And then she starts stripping, slowly, painfully slow, slowly, deliberately, eyes locked onto mine the entire time. Teasing me with every inch of skin she reveals. She peels her sweater over her head, her curls tumbling loose, and I watch, breathless, as she undoes the clasp of her bra with deliberate precision, letting it fall to the floor, her smirk growing the longer I stare. Her hands move lower, hooking into the waistband of her leggings, sliding them down her hips with an agonising pace. She steps out of them with ease. My pulse pounds in my ears as she takes her time, dragging it out, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me, letting the last of her clothes slip from her body until she’s completely bare, standing before me in nothing but those dark eyes and the wicked smirk playing on her lips, and I’m left staring, aching.  

I can’t take it.

I stand up, lurch forward, hands reaching for her, closing the space between us, my hands immediately on her body, kissing every inch of skin I can reach her collarbone, her shoulders, the curve of her neck. My hands roam over her bare back, pressing her closer, needing to feel her. My teeth scrape over the pulse hammering at her throat, and I hear her breath hitch.

Lilia moans, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging me even closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off her. I trail kisses down, across her chest, down her stomach, dragging my nails lightly, down her ribs just to make her gasp, desperate to taste her, to make up for all the time we’ve wasted.

I want her. I want to wreck her, hear her fall apart beneath me.

But Lilia has other plans.

With a low growl, she shoves me back onto the bed, straddling me before I can even react. Her body pins mine against the mattress, a delicious weight that has me gasping. She tugs my dress up, her hands rough and impatient as she drags it over my head and tosses it aside. A shiver runs through me as her fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, and without thinking, my hips lift to help her slip them off.

And then she does the same to me. Lilia’s lips are everywhere, hot, demanding, claiming me in a way that’s anything but soft. It’s hard, it’s raw, it’s pent up tension that’s been building for weeks, and it’s so damn good, and I can feel it in every press of her teeth, every bite of her nails against my thighs.

She kisses me like she’s making up for lost time, her hands gripping my hips tightly, grinding down against me, slow and deliberate, teasing me with the friction, with enough force to leave bruises in the morning. My nails rake down her back, desperate, needy, and she loves it, moaning into my mouth as she deepens the kiss.

We don’t stop.

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing, just heat and need and the overwhelming feeling of finally having what we both wanted.

I gasp as Lilia's hands roam lower, her touch possessive, her mouth following her hands, unrelenting, claiming every inch of me. She grips my thighs, spreading me open, pressing teasing kisses along my inner thigh, slow, deliberate, making me squirm.

She pauses just above where I need her, her breath warm against me, teasing, torturous. And when she finally looks up at me, her lips just barely brushing my skin, her eyes are dark, lips slick, pupils blown wide with hunger. She smirks.

“Took me long enough, huh?” she murmurs against my skin.

I can’t even answer, just nod breathlessly.

Lilia’s mouth is on me before I can even process it, her hands pressing my thighs apart with a hunger that makes my head spin. She doesn’t tease. She doesn’t drag it out. She takes. 

She devours me like she’s starving, like she’s been holding back for too long and refuses to do it a second longer. Her tongue moves with precision, slow at first, savoring, before she licks deeper, pressing her mouth against me with a hunger that has my head spinning. She flicks her tongue, dragging it over me just right, and I sob, my body jerking beneath her. 

Her fingers slide through slick heat, teasing, testing, until—

I gasp, my back arching off the bed as she pushes in, stretching me, filling me in a way that has me gasping for air.

She’s ruthless, curling her fingers just right, stroking deep, pushing, pulling, setting a pace that leaves no room for mercy.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me, baby?” she moans against me, the vibrations sending a shiver up my spine. Her fingers don’t slow, thrusting into me hard, fast, each stroke deliberate and punishing. “The things I’ve thought about... every time you walked into the shop in those little skirts, every time you teased me?”

I whimper, my hands clutching the sheets, head thrown back in pure bliss.

She bites the inside of my thigh, and I cry out. “Those panties you left behind,” she breathes, her voice thick with lust, “I couldn’t stop thinking about them. About you. About what it’d feel like to have you.”

A desperate moan rips from my throat, my body trembling under her touch. “Lilia... please.” My hips lifting, chasing her, needing more. She hums, low and indulgent, before finally sliding another finger inside me, stretching me open, pushing deeper, pressing her palm against me just enough to make me whine. My hands clutch at the sheets, my body burning, every nerve ending sparking.

“I should’ve done this sooner,” her tongue circling me in slow, teasing strokes, drawing me apart piece by piece. “Had you like this ages ago. Been wanting to hear these sounds from you for weeks”

Her fingers press against that perfect spot inside me, and I choke out a sob.

She licks deeper, pressing her tongue flat against me before sucking lightly, and I jerk, crying out.

“Want to hear you cum for me,” Lilia purrs, her voice dark and commanding,  before she sucks harder, her fingers thrusting into me faster, curling deep, coaxing me higher. “Come on, baby. Let me hear it.”

And I do.

The pleasure crashes through me like a tidal wave, my body shaking, moaning her name over and over as I fall apart beneath her touch. Lilia doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until I’m completely wrecked, panting, and twitching from the aftershocks.

She finally pulls back, pressing a final, lingering kiss against me, her breath warm and heavy.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my stomach, her voice full of praise that makes me shiver all over again. “You did so well for me.”

I can barely respond, my limbs boneless, my mind hazy. But I know one thing for sure, I want more.

It takes me a moment to come back down, my body still trembling, my breaths ragged and uneven. Lilia watches me with dark, satisfied eyes, her smirk smug and dripping with confidence. Her fingers still teasing lazy circles on my thigh like she’s enjoying the way I twitch under her touch.

But I’m not done with her, not by a long shot.

Before she can even process it, I flip us over, pressing her into the mattress with a wicked grin. Her eyes widen, but there’s no surprise, just anticipation, hunger.

“Fuck.” The word comes out in a breath, barely a sound, but enough for her to hear.

She hums, amused, her nails skimming over my arms as if daring me to continue.

My fingers trail lower, slipping between her thighs, and I pause, my breath catching as I feel how absolutely soaked she is. The realisation sends a shiver through me, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.

I pull back slightly, looking at her properly now, taking in the way her lips are parted, her pupils blown wide, her body already straining toward me.

“Oh,” I breathe, teasing my fingers against her, dragging them slowly to feel every bit of her need. “You don’t need any help, do you?”

Lilia’s breath hitches, her hips twitching beneath my touch, but she doesn’t answer, just watches me with dark, half-lidded eyes, her lips parted in anticipation. Fixes me with a look that makes my stomach flip.

It’s daring. A challenge. Like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

“Fuck,” I say again, letting out another slow breath, pressing a little firmer, feeling how she responds so easily. “You really have been waiting for this,” I murmur, my voice dark, satisfied. “Haven’t you?”

She parts her lips to respond, but I don’t give her the chance.

I sink my fingers into her, slow at first, teasing, stretching her open, feeling the way her body clenches around me. 

And then I push in deeper, hard, and she gasps, her back arching, her fingers digging into my shoulders..

I don’t go slow. I don’t tease. I take her hard and rough, my fingers moving with purpose, curling inside her in a way that has her moaning instantly.

Lilia’s hands grasp at my shoulders, her nails scratching, dragging down my back, and I lower my mouth to her breasts, sucking one of her nipples between my lips. I swirl my tongue around it, biting down just enough to make her cry out, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, y/n,” she moans, her hips bucking up against my hand, her thighs trembling around me.

I smirk against her skin, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before moving to the other, lavishing it with the same rough attention while my fingers pump into her relentlessly.

She’s so wet, so tight around my fingers, and it doesn’t take much before I feel her start to tighten around me, her walls fluttering, her breath coming out in broken gasps.

“So, you’ve been thinking about this for a while, huh?” I murmur against her chest, my voice dripping with satisfaction. “Thinking about how I’d feel inside you?”

She groans, her back arching as she gasps, “Yes... yes... fuck.”

I grin wickedly, increasing the pace, curling my fingers just right until she’s on the edge, her breath coming in short, desperate pants. “Come on, Lilia,” I whisper against her skin, sucking hard on her nipple as I thrust into her with delicious precision. 

“Let me hear you.”

And she does.

Lilia spasms around me, her moan breaking apart into something raw and desperate, her entire body trembling beneath me as she comes undone, gasping my name like it’s the only thing she knows.

I watch her fall apart, mesmerised, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every sharp intake of breath, and it’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever seen. 

My fingers slow, riding out her high as I press soft kisses along her collarbone.

Her breathing is ragged, a deep flush crawling up her chest, sweat slicking her skin, and she lets out a soft, breathy laugh, pulling me against her, her fingers tangling in my hair. “I should hate how smug you look right now,” she murmurs, voice thick and shaky.

I smirk, kissing along her jaw. “You love it.”

She hums, her lips ghosting over my temple as her breath steadies, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. 

After the intensity of it all, after the heat, the moans, and the desperate need finally sated, we collapse into the sheets, bodies still humming with the aftershocks.

Lilia sighs softly against my hair,  her arm draped lazily over my waist, her chest rising and falling steadily beneath me, and I feel her hand lazily tracing circles on my back. 

I shift slightly, my leg sliding between hers, my fingers still ghosting over her skin, unable to stop touching her even in the aftermath.

Her skin is warm, still damp from sweat, her breathing slow and steady.

“Comfortable?” she murmurs, voice low and raspy, and I can hear the lingering amusement in it.

I nuzzle against her neck, pressing a lazy kiss to her collarbone. “Very.” My voice is heavy with sleep, and I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, but I don’t want to move. “You?”

She hums, her lips pressing against my temple in a slow, lingering kiss. “Mm. I could get used to this.”

My heart stutters at that, but I don’t say anything, just smile against her skin, letting myself bask in the warmth of her.

Minutes pass, maybe hours, time feels irrelevant when I’m wrapped around her like this. Lilia strokes her fingers through my hair absentmindedly, and I can feel her breathing slowing, the tension that always seems to cling to her finally easing away.

I sigh, letting my eyes flutter shut, my body melting against hers. “Don’t retreat in the morning,” I mumble sleepily, barely coherent, but needing to say it.

She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through me. “I won’t, baby.”

And that’s enough for me. With her promise lingering in the air between us, I drift off, feeling safe, sated, and completely tangled in her. Tangled in her warmth, in her scent, in the quiet hum of her presence.

[abrakuxas]

Have been reading Batman/Batfamily books from the 70s up and I'm currently at New 52.

I hate most stuff but that are some gems:

S

- Batman and Robin is great most of the time, I cannot complain. The moments I thought were not very much in character ended up being my mistake and I've managed to understand them as genuinely good moments. The arc of Damian's death and Bruce's reaction to it is great and very consistent with how he reacted to Jason's death so many years ago.

- Gotham Academy is almost perfect. I've read the first 6 issues and all the kids are so much fun for me. I don't really agree with Bruce's writing on this first issues? I feel like he is written colder than he used to be written around children. I feel like the writer is doing it from a place of what Batman/Bruce's vibe is, not really from actual understanding of his character, but that's fine cause the protagonist is biased against him anyway, so I can excuse it as her perspective on him. I'm excited to see Dami in the school, I feel like Robin's school life is probably one of the best ideas ever, it worked for Tim Drake before and gothic academy is a great vibe for Damian.

_________________________

A

- Batwoman is also very nice. I think I could've put it in S tier but I've occasionally found myself a little bored by it or skipping something cause it wasn't very interesting to me. Mostly I think Kate Kane is a great character as she had been pre flashpoint and her book did not suffer much from this terrible change in direction. That said I don't care for Maggie Sawyer, I miss Montoya's Question and her dynamic with Kate. I wish Nocturna was better developed as a character as well, as I feel like conceptually she is a great foil for Kate. Alice and Red Alice were not to my taste. The idea and vibes are good but it sometimes feels like a Harley Quinn ripoff that's trying not to be that? Not a very consistent character and having read Alice in Wonderland I feel like this character deserved far better.

- Batman Inc. is... Complicated. I'll just come out here and say it: I do not enjoy Morrison's writing of Batman. I feel like their writing is sometimes TOO meta to a point where they are talking more about the real world IP Batman™ and not so much about Bruce as an actual character. Everything is a big metaphor to what every character represents in our world and not so much what they feel and think, which makes it feel like everything happens in a dreamlike world of concepts and commentary on comics. It's comics about comics and that's boring to me. It's not badly written, just not my cup of tea. That said, this second volume of Batman Inc. was so much fun and at the time it made me FEEL things, even if they were occasionally bad things. I do not like Morrison's treatment of Thalia at all, but overall I rather read a bold yet controversial book than any of the other VERY boring and safey books that make up Batfamily books up until now.

___________________________

B

- the Batman title was not as bad as it could've been. The New 52 is overall a terrible idea and I've seen lots of people say Batman comics got the better treatment out of it and oh boy, I'm so sad for the rest of DC cause most Batman comics S U C K... The Batman title though is mostly fine. Scott Snyder is a good writer. Am I fan of everything he did with this run? Not at all, but he was bold enough to create things, lots of concepts from his run are very very fun and deserve to be core concepts of Batman. It means a lot that the Court of Owls is that popular when the last big villain we got was probably what, Hush? And Court of Owls for all it's flaws is such a better story than Hush anyway. I enjoy a lot of the relationships and character writing here too.

That said, unfortunately, A LOT of the stories are kinda too similar to other stories and feel repetitive if you've read a lot of comics. I've SEEN "Batman disappeared and we're worried about him" just before Flashpoint, I don't need Bruce to be away in a maze (even though it's far better written than Batman RIP to my taste), same thing with Endgame... I've read Contagion and we don't really need ANOTHER pandemic in Gotham. But anyway, maybe that's a me problem more than it is the books problem. Snyder is very competent and his stories can be very very fun and even though not every idea works for me, at least he treats characters with respect and care.

_______________

C

Nightwing is the reason I started reading comics back when I met him in the Starfire goes to the future episode of Teen Titans cartoons and he was THE COOLEST GUY EVER. That said WHY is it that everytime they decide to give him a solo book he is 100% solo? Dick Grayson's best traits comes from his relationship. His weird older-brother-turned-father relationship with Bruce, his guilt towards Jason's death, his situationship with Barbara, his brotherly relationship with Tim and Damian, ALL of his Titans relationships. That's Dick Grayson. So WHY is he solo dealing with "the circus you grew up with is actually EEEEEVILLL and your childhood besties (WHO???????) want to kill you"? It's not just bad and boring, it's a weird trend that has started back with Chuck Dixon's run on him. That's a celebrated run that I don't understand, it's kinda fun at best but alienating at worst, which is sad cause Dixon's Batman run is quite good for Batfamily and Dick Grayson in my opinion. Anyway, this book sucks, what's next?

- Grayson. It's not necessarily badly written but who are this people? Give him back his suit, give Helena Bertinelli her suit and put them back in Gotham. Fuck Spyral and all cops are bastards, moving on.

- Batwing: I don't care for David Zavimbe, but Luke Fox had very fun writing and high stakes, I really enjoy this character, I wish he had more time and a better name. I like the idea of rich family boy finds out the reason all this Bat kids work is that they have absolutely no one except other super heroes and doing this with an actual, functional family is so fucking harder. This is not in C cause it's boring, it just had no time to cook better stuff, but I had lots of fun.

______

D

Detective Comics, Batman Eternal and Batman TDK have the same problem: they are not actual stories about actual characters they are excuses to keep an IP. It lacks personality, it lacks anything of interest, it's Batman living through an eternal hell of generic stories that take him nothing to nowhere, you lose nothing by skipping this, this is what people that don't read comics think comics are: nothing happens and every week Batman just fights a guy again.

Batgirl: Gail Simone can write the hell out of Barbara Gordon... As an adult woman.... In a wheelchair.... With the Birds of Prey.... Why is this 35 year old calling herself Batgirl again? Disgusting, ableist and very boring. And the ableism isn't JUST on Barbara, her Brother's treatment is honestly horrendous. And Batgirl of Burnside is not much better with her Oracle persona turning into an evil algorithm that she needs to talk down and destroy??? Fuck you, DC comics. I will not get into the weirdly transphobic story of a guy doing drag as Batgirl being treated as a monster and ridiculous. I will add though: if you really needed a college age Batgirl, you HAD Stephanie Brown AND Cassandra Cain. Oh wait, NO YOU DIDN'T, CAUSE YOU DISAPPEARED WITH THEM, RIGHT YOU MORONS???? I cannot believe how much better this could've been if we got roommate Cass and Steph as Batgirls attending college together and how their different personalities work off each other and in class. Also Barbara Gordon being 21 is probably the most ridiculous thing I've ever read.

Red Hood and the Outlaws: absolutely nothing of worth here except a couple of Jason x Bruce scenes, but barely. Lobdell can't write a villain to save his life and all the characters are just either thrown into the trash or we have Jason who is not necessarily thrown into the thrash but for some fucking reason has random mystic powers and training....? I don't know, I feel like it's the most convoluted type of story I've ever read, he was raised from the dead by the League of Assassins, WHY does he have to go away from them and then train with ANOTHER also league of also assassins? Lobdell is AI Writing before AI writing existed, it's insane.

I've also read Teen Titans and I uh... Rather not talk about.

[californiaquail]

anyone else feeling fundamentally incapable of adjusting to society. also just discovered there's a 30 tag limit which i can't believe i've never hit before

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[featherymainffins]

Kinda wish a lot of my friends would stop demonising NPD?? Like they're always like "I'm cool with personality disorders, people with them aren't to blame for having them" or have a PD themselves, and then they turn around and go "Ugh I'm done with pwNPD, they're all awful."

The kicker is that this is ALWAYS preceded by me saying that I have a LOT of NPD traits and would meet the diagnostic criteria some days of the week (much the same way my friend has NPD but would meet the criteria for BPD some days). Like...ok... I literally just told you that I have a lot in common with people with NPD...you KNOW our mutual friend with NPD. You KNOW that he has NPD. And you look me in the eyes and tell me that you think that we're both awful????? Hello??? Fuck you???

[actual-corpse]

Who knew that the stress of a part-time job on top of being a full-time student who either lived with hateful neonazis or was just straight up roughing it would stifle my ability to think about Me?

*I ran out of tag space, y'all.

#trans

[weaselle]

i had to make a solution for this for myself, mostly because of depression, but it makes a nice How To for folks who are low on spoons or could use some help in the kitchen.

Fortunately i was a professional cook for over a decade. UNfortunately the first post i made explaining it was suuuuper long. Let's see if i can do better

So you select any protein that you can cook in a frying pan -- chicken breasts, ground beef, pork chops, sausages, steak, chicken thighs, whatever. You also select one or two types of veggie (mushrooms or tubers also work, i just did this with potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight).

[i like cooking for vegetarians, but this is how i cook for myself when i'm low on spoons - perhaps i'll do another post for meatless meals]

You'll also need some kind of oil, and a sauce or two of your choice in a bottle. All cooking gear is a large frying pan with lid (i prefer non-stick) a spatula, a cutting board, and a knife.

You cut the veggies into bite size pieces, cut up enough for two meals. One kind of veggie is fine, or you can do mix two or three

Put frying pan on medium heat with a little oil. Tubers or mushrooms or go in the pan a few minutes before the protein. 2 portions of the protein goes in the pan, about 5 minutes with lid (don't worry you can still get a good sear on both sides)

Now flip your protein if it's flip-able and add normal veggies, put the lid back on another five-ish minutes.

Take your protein out and put it with one portion of the veggies in a microwave safe container. That's going to be your lunch tomorrow. Put the other portion of protein on a plate to rest (you have to let a cooked protein sit a couple minutes before you serve it or when you cut into it all the juices run out and it goes dry - the liquids thicken as it cools, preventing this drying out if you let it rest, the goal is to serve it very warm but not hot hot)

While it's resting, pour some sauce from your bottle in the pan with the rest of the veggies and turn up the heat. A single sauce/bottle is fine, i like to get fancy and mix a couple. Two examples of personal favorite mixes are 1: bbq sauce and a hot sauce like sriracha 2: roughly equal parts low sodium soy sauce and worcestershire (makes something similar to a teriyaki sauce) A swallow of wine is almost always a great option if you want to add that to your sauce too, just add it to the pan before the other sauces so the alcohol has time to burn off.

...

Here is the important bit. While your veggies are finishing, wash your cutting board and chef knife. Then when you dump your veggies and sauce over your protein on the plate, while it is still too hot to eat, you wash your frying pan and spatula before you eat. Now the only dishes you have left to do are your plate and fork. Maybe a steak knife.

...

The whole thing takes about 35 minutes even with washing the dishes, and that includes your lunch for the next day- just pour a different sauce on and stick it in the microwave for a couple minutes (or five minutes back in the frying pan) and you have a full healthy lunch with a different flavor

You can use this technique every single meal and it yields hundreds of combinations, from pork and potatoes bbq, to salmon and broccoli teriyaki, to chicken and zucchini in a soy glaze.

It will keep you down to less than an hour of kitchen time per day total for both lunch and dinner including all dish clean up, uses the least dishes, the least effort, requires the least technique, and is, depending on what you pick out, very affordable

here are a couple more examples from this month; i didn’t take pictures of the salmon i did recently, but you get the idea

it's not super fancy, but it is easy, affordable, quick, and any flavors you want. Hope this helps some folks

Happy Cooking!

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.

[freshfishflakes]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[thebibliosphere]

So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)

The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."

They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?

Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.

Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)

It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:

ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."

Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.

This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:

"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."

This is what the AI changed it to:

"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."

Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"

Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?

Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.

[weirdo-with-a-nametag]

I feel like there's so much your parents are supposed to teach you how to do, and mine didn't. Some of it they assumed I already knew (?) Or punished me for not knowing (??) And now I'm out here clueless. There is a lot that I do not feel I have the knowledge or ability to handle. Where is the support you promised?

[orionremastered]

hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude

(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)

Masterlist

Batboys with a Disabled S/O

Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]

A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.

You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.

Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?

You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.

Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.

Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;

Who was that?

Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.

You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.

Jason Todd [Fully Blind]

Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.

"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."

"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."

"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."

Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.

"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.

"You're both good. Too good, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.

"Hmm."

Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]

"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"

Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"

"We can go back to the tent and rest."

"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.

"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.

"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."

Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"

You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."

Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]

"I'll take those—"

"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.

The man scowls. "But—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."

He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."

You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).

He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.

"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.

"No."

"I know how."

"No."

[ariestrxsh]

dealer!chris x dealer!reader

💸 content warning: smut/angst (in later chapters; this one's mostly just suggestive), mentions of masturbation, mentions of hard drugs and guns, enemies to lovers, slow burn

💸 summary: you and chris set aside your differences to join forces and close on a sweet deal with a local supplier.

there will be several parts to this story, and they will contain sex, drugs, violence, use of weapons, and a lot of things that could be triggering if you've ever been apart of the drug world or loved someone with an addiction. i don't mean to glorify drug use, selling, or anything like that, but i wanted this story to be realistic, so it does appear like a somewhat "glamorous" lifestyle to chris and the reader in the first few parts. i want to make it very clear that when you get involved in the drug world in real life, you usually end up in one of two places: the ground or prison.

WHEN SPARKS FLY

chapters: | intro | 1 | 2 |

You and Chris rode in your silver Honda Accord through the rainy streets, following all the laws, using your turn signals, and driving the speed limit. Not because you were law-abiding citizens but because you had about twelve bricks of the city's finest coke stashed in a suitcase in your trunk.

"So, what now? We go bag this shit?" Chris asked, fidgeting with one of his rings. "I mean, I'm not doing anything tonight. Are you?" You asked, your eyes darting over at the boy slouched down in his seat beside you. He shook his head and shrugged.

"Let's go back to my place. I'll make coffee, and we can stay up tonight bagging. Tomorrow we start selling," you suggested, glancing into your rearview and fixing your gaze back on the car in front of you.

"You know, you're a pretty established dealer. Pretty high up there. What do you go on your own runs for, ma? I'm sure you could pay someone to do it," Chris wondered, hoping he could be a candidate for the job.

"I don't need help, Chris," you shook your head. "I didn't say you need it. I'm just wondering why you don't," he clarified.

"I like to do shit myself, Chris. It keeps me busy, it makes me more money, and if I'm the one doing it, I know it's getting done efficiently. Why would I pay someone to dip into my stash and give product away to their friends behind my back?" You shrugged.

"Damn, ma. You got trust issues," Chris shook his head. "Don't you?" You inquired, peering over at Chris. "Nah, I don't think so," Chris replied, staring out his window at the falling rain.

"You're telling me you've been in this business for how long, and you've never been fucked over?" You narrowed your eyes at him. "Nah, I haven't," Chris mumbled. "Then someone's fucking you over, and you don't know about it," you dryly responded.

"Damn, ma. That's not a very bright outlook, but if that's how you wanna be," Chris shook his head. "I'm just being realistic," you shrugged. "Who hurt you?" Chris asked, sounding somewhat genuine with his question.

"Wouldn't you like to know? I'm not playing this twenty questions shit. We're not having a heart-to-heart right now, alright? We're just doing business," you rolled your eyes, putting up your defenses.

"That's fine, ma. I don't mind when they're tough to crack," Chris joked with a playfulness in his tone, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The two of you drove silently through the slick streets back to your place where you unloaded the heavy suitcase. You started a pot of coffee, the smell of the medium-roast brew drifting through the air as you started to take off your blazer, kick off your heels, and unstrap your gun.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to go change," you declared, making your way to the bottom of the staircase. You reached around to try to unzip your dress, but it didn't budge. "Shit," you whispered, fidgeting with the stuck zipper.

"Need help?" Chris asked you, starting to walk towards you. "No, I got it," you told him, but you didn't have it, and you were still struggling. "C'mon, ma. You don't have to do everything yourself all the time," Chris chuckled, coming up behind you.

You felt silly. Earlier, you were bragging about how you didn't need anyone, and now you were being humbled by a piece of metal that was stuck on a thread from your dress.

Chris fiddled with it for a few minutes. "Got it," Chris said as you heard the slow ziiip as it came undone.

He tried to remain professional about it, but he found himself nearly holding his breath as his eyes traveled to the curve of your back and how pretty your skin looked in the soft, dim lighting.

Suddenly, his phone started to vibrate, pulling him out of the trance you unknowingly held him in. He let go of your zipper, and his hand flew to his phone that was in his pocket.

"Who's that?" You asked, peeking at him from over your shoulder. A pang of guilt about how he'd been looking at you all night surged through him as he peered down at his screen. "My girlfriend," Chris replied, glancing back up at you.

You pulled your gaze away from his. A very small part of you felt a little jealous and hurt because you'd thought Chris had been flirting with you all night.

"Don't tell her too many details about our deal tonight. The fewer people that know the names, locations, and prices, the better," you told him, and he nodded at you.

"Hey, baby. I'm gonna be stuck at work pretty late tonight. No, don't wait up for me," he told her as you started ascending the stairs. "I know, I know," you heard his voice take on a more sultry tone.

"I know. I bet you miss my cock so much right now, don't you, baby?" Chris cooed into the phone, his voice sounding further and further away as you got closer to your room. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his vulgarity.

You shut your door behind you, slipping your straps off your shoulders and letting the fabric drop to the floor. You unhooked your bra and let out a sigh of relief as it fell, joining your dress that laid at your feet. You tossed them into the hamper and slipped into sweatpants and a sweater.

Your eyes danced across Chris' jeans, his shirt, and his hoodie that were thrown into a pile next to your bed. You couldn't help but kind of like the idea of Chris' clothes littering your bedroom floor, but you tried to push that thought out of your mind upon learning that he was dating someone and upon remembering that you totally hated him.

You threw your hair up in a bun and started back out your door to let Chris know he could use your room to change now. You stood at the top of the stairs as Chris' voice came back into earshot.

"I know, baby. Pretend your fingers are mine, alright? C'mon. Be a good girl and cum all over them for me," you heard Chris say into the phone in your living room. Your jaw fell open, your breath caught in your throat, and your hand flew up to cover your mouth.

You felt your body temperature rise as you slowly descended the steps, listening while he talked her through it. You knew Chris self-reportedly knew how to talk to people, but you didn't know it extended to the bedroom, too.

You felt a slickness between your thighs as Chris' seductive voice danced through the air. You tiptoed down your stairs, peeking over the banister at Chris, who was sitting on your couch, legs splayed out, gently caressing the bulge in his pants while he spoke to his girlfriend.

Your eyes widened, and you pulled back before Chris could see you. You took a deep breath and cleared your throat before descending the stairs the rest of the way. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Chris jump a bit.

"Sorry, baby. I gotta go. Gotta get back to work. I'll come over once I'm done. I love you," he told her before hastily hanging up. Chris leaned forward on your couch, placing both his elbows on his knees, and interlocking his fingers to hide how hard he was.

It wasn't very often that men made you lose your composure, but as your gaze met Chris', you hoped he wouldn't notice your flushed expression.

"You can go change out of that corny ass suit if you want. Room's all yours," you casually told him. "Thanks, ma," he said, getting up quickly and darting up your stairs, hoping you didn't overhear his phone conversation.

Chris stepped into your room, shedding the layers of the suit that was too big for him, and he climbed back into the clothes he started off in, making sure to tuck his erection into the waistband of his boxers. He neatly folded the suit over the back of your chair before departing from your room and heading back down the steps.

He found you in the kitchen, pouring two mugs of hot, black drip coffee, steam rising into the air as you emptied the pot. Your eyes rose up to meet his again, and you gave him a subtle smile.

"So, what's your girlfriend like?" You asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it as you handed him the dark blue ceramic mug that was filled nearly to the brim. Chris nodded, silently thanking you for the beverage as he took it from you.

"Her name is Daisy. She's a very sweet person. She's affectionate. She's understanding. She cooks and cleans," Chris told you, smiling to himself. You could tell he was really in love with her by the way he spoke about her. "She gives great head," Chris added.

"Gross!" You exclaimed, rolling your eyes and giving Chris a look of disgust. "You almost had me. You almost had me thinking you were a romantic."

"I am a romantic. I always return the favor," he cracked a smug grin in your direction as he said it. You scoffed in annoyance. "How long have you guys been together?" You wondered. You placed both your hands around your coffee mug, enjoying the heat it provided and taking a long sip.

"About six months," he responded after counting on his fingers and thinking about it for a second. "She know you sell?" You wondered, raising an eyebrow. Chris sighed and shook his head.

"Chris," you said sternly, setting your cup down on your marble counter top. "You can't keep something like that from her. That's not fair," you told him, looking him dead in the eye.

"I know. But it's either I keep it from her, or I have her worrying about me all the time," Chris replied, scanning your expression for some kind of understanding. "If you knew her, you'd know why I made the decision I did to keep it from her."

"No, Chris. She might worry about you, but she has a right to. This is a dangerous business. What if you get raided when she's over at your place? What if someone robs you? What if you get arrested and she doesn't know until she sees your mugshot?" You said, raising your voice.

Chris was silent. He hadn't considered any of those scenarios until the words left your mouth.

"This business is dangerous, Chris. Everyone around you is subject to the risk," you reminded him, running your fingers along the letters of your name engraved into the mug in front of you.

"So, that's why you don't ever get close to anyone, huh, ma?" Chris smugly suggested, reading you like a book. "You don't know me," you scoffed, narrowing your gaze and folding your arms across your chest.

"When's the last time you dated anyone?" Chris asked, raising an eyebrow. "Stop trying to psychoanalyze me, and let's bag this shit," you angrily huffed, picking up your drink and pushing past him. "You got it, ma," Chris agreed, nearly spilling his coffee as you shoulderchecked him.

You unzipped the suitcase, revealing the neatly organized bricks of white powder and perfectly stacked cash. You picked up a $10,000 bundle and handed it to Chris, but before you let go of it, you gave him a serious look.

"Chris, don't go spending this on anything. Got it? This is part of our reup money after we sell all this."

In most cases, you wouldn't have even given it to him, yet, but it was a test. It was great that Chris could talk to people and get you discounted deals, but you had to make sure he was good with his money.

"Don't worry, ma. I know what I'm doing," Chris said with a sly smirk, but you didn't take people for their word. You watched their actions.

"First things first, I'm always testing my shit," you said, pulling a test kit out of a drawer. You pulled out a switch blade and made just the tiniest slit in the plastic wrap around the brick.

"I just get out the tiniest bit, and I'm gonna mix it with this solution here, and based off what color it turns, it'll tell us exactly what we have. Whether it's pure coke, whether it's cut with something," you taught him, holding the test tube up to eye level. "It usually doesn't take too long. Ah, look at that. Bright blue. It's pure," you said, smiling.

"Miles tried to sell me bunk shit once, but I told him what's up, and now he only sells me pure shit. He knows we'd have a problem if he tried to give me anything less. I still check anyway," you mentioned, glancing over at the blue-eyed boy to your left who was mesmerized by you.

He loved the way you looked like some kind of sexy chemist or badass drug lord, and it was undeniably turning him on a bit. He watched and listened intently, soaking up all the knowledge you bestowed upon him.

"Alright, Chris. When I'm bagging, I usually do it in fairly small quantities, and then I take those bundles and put them together. So, we want all the small baggies in a pile, and we want it to add up to a kilo, so it's very important we only break open one brick at a time," you told him, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a bunch of little plastic ziploc bags.

"I don't like to count things a million times, so we're gonna make piles of ten. We're weighing out mostly eight balls, and we use the scale every time. No eyeballing shit," you stated, handing him a stack of bags.

"Yes, ma. You know, you teaching me all this, it's kind of sexy," Chris admitted, peering over at you. You rolled your eyes and stared back at him. "You shouldn't be saying that kind of shit when you have a girlfriend who's laying in bed waiting for you right now while you're out bagging up drugs she doesn't know anything about," you replied coldly, raising an eyebrow.

"Damn, ma. It's just a little playful flirting. I think intention matters, and I'm not trying to actually do anything about it," Chris shrugged, scooping an eight ball into the tiny square bag. "Intention matters, but so does perception. What if I liked it?" You asked, weighing out your bundle.

"You do," Chris smirked, looking over at you. "No, I don't," you dryly answered. "I'm just saying, you flirt like a single man. It gives off the wrong impression. Leads people on," you replied.

"What? You gonna fall for me, ma?" Chris nudged you in the leg with his. You just rolled your eyes, not even dignifying his accusation with a response.

The two of you continued to weigh out the powder, methodically organizing it the same way you always did. Despite the thrills and everyday excitement that came with being a dealer, these were the times you really looked forward to - the mundane.

This is where you felt most relaxed, sitting on your couch with a cup of coffee at the end of the day, just counting, your heart, beating at a resting rate, and your mind, temporarily free of worry.

It was almost nice to have company - even if your company was a former enemy who you weren't sure if you could trust yet. It just felt nice to have someone that could bask in the silence with you while the rest of the world slept soundly.

"Wow. Is it really that time already?" Chris asked, peering over at the analog clock on your wall that read 2 a.m. You yawned and took a sip of your coffee before rubbing your tired eyes. "Time flies when you're having fun," you dryly replied, stretching your arms above your head.

"I should probably head out. I told my girl I'd stay over at her place tonight," Chris responded, glancing down at his phone to see if he had any missed texts. "I can drive you," you offered. "No, I can't let you do that. Look at how tired you are," Chris declined, getting up from your couch.

"Trust me, Chris. It's safer if I drive you. Neighborhoods around here can be sketchy at night," you warned him, gesturing towards the bundle of cash he'd made from the deal. "Ah, you got a point, ma," Chris smirked at you, reconsidering your offer.

"You know, if you're gonna be my partner in crime, you gotta be smarter," you joked, reaching for your keys. Chris followed you out the door, stepping out into the stormy weather.

Your heavy eyelids struggled to stay open as you fixed your gaze on the freshly paved road. The soothing vibration of your tires driving over the smooth asphalt almost made it harder for you to stay awake.

The two of you rode in silence, Chris tapping away on his phone and looking up every few minutes to direct you down different side streets.

You rolled to a stop underneath a flickering streetlight when you pulled up to Daisy's house, a single light bulb lighting up her doorstep. She always left the porch light on and the door unlocked for Chris when she knew he would be coming over late after work.

"Hey," you stopped him before he stepped out of the car. "Thank you for tonight. I'm really impressed with what you did back there with the deal and everything. Plus, we bagged up the product in half the time that it would have taken me to do it myself," you told him.

"Told you I could be valuable to you, ma. Thanks for giving me a chance, and thank you for the ride," he said, cracking a smile. "Yeah, of course, and thanks for the company. It was.. nice," you shrugged, fiddling with the gear shifter.

His stare lingered on your lips for a second before flickering back up to your eyes, and you swore he was about to lean in and kiss you, but his eyes darted straight ahead, and his hand flew up to the door handle. "Night, ma," he murmured, gently easing your car door open and stepping back out into the drizzling rain that was finally letting up.

You got about half a block before you heard the vibration of your phone in your cup holder. Chris' contact information appeared on your screen. Thinking he must have left something in your car, you picked up and slowed your speed, preparing to turn around. "Chris?" You said into the speaker.

"Hey, ma. I just wanted to stay on the phone with you and keep you up until you get back home. You looked pretty tired," Chris quietly answered. "You didn't have to do that," you replied.

"I know, but I could never forgive myself if you didn't make it back safe, ma," Chris replied, still standing outside on Daisy's porch and staring up at the clouds that were passing over the moon. You couldn't help but to smile at his words. It felt nice to have someone care about you. "Plus, I wouldn't know what to do with all this coke if you croaked," he added.

There it was. Every time Chris said something somewhat endearing, he always ruined it by following it up with something perverted or vile. "Gee, thanks, Chris," you sarcastically murmured.

"What are you gonna do when you get home, ma?" Chris casually asked. "I'm probably gonna pass out the second my head hits the pillow," you said, straightening your back and rapidly blinking your eyes to refocus them. "How about you?"

"Probably smoke a joint. Maybe jerk off," he casually admitted, shrugging his shoulders and putting a hand in his pocket.

"Well, you're just an open book, aren't you?" You replied, your heart racing as you pictured him with a pleasured look on his face, pumping his fist around his cock. "I mean, you asked, and I have nothing to hide," Chris replied.

After a moment of silence, his voice came through again. "You're imagining it, aren't you?" A smirk crept into his expression. "What? Gross. I-I'm not. No," you defensively responded, his assumption catching you off guard.

"Relaaax, ma. I'm fucking with you," Chris chuckled. You rolled your eyes as you cranked the steering wheel, turning onto your street. "Well, Chris. Have fun with that. I'm about to pull into my driveway. Goodnight."

taglist: @skye-44 @faiyaz555 @idrk2292 @chrisslittleslut @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @drewstarkeysdoll @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll

"Goodnight."

click to read chapter 3 ✨️

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Logan as your teacher.

You're one of the senior students, experienced, sometimes going out on missions with them. His class is mostly about control. Learning to control your powers, your emotions, making sure you're as focused on the job as possible.

The last thing you're doing is focusing.

How the fuck are you supposed to focus on class when Logan's standing there? In his plaid shirt, jeans, those dangerous eyes flicking across the class and occasionally landing on you.

You're distracted, not listening to anything he says. You're just imagining him fucking you. Dragging you into his office and making you suck his cock if you want an A. Imagine him letting you kiss him all over, touch him, fuck him...

It's legal, you think to yourself. I'm twenty. It's legal...

Not like anything is gonna happen.

The class ends. You realize it because everyone stands up to leave and you're pulled back to reality. You hastily gather your stuff and start walking when Logan calls out your name. You turn to him.

“Stay for a while, we need to talk,” he tells you, crossing his arms as he leans back against his desk.

You sigh softly. You've been...barely passing his class. In fact, you're not even sure you're passing anymore. The weird thing is you don't care. As long as you get to see him, you really don't care if you have to repeat this class again and again and again.

You walk towards him, the last student that leaves closing the door after himself. You stand in front of him, backpack slung over one shoulder. “Yeah?”

-

Logan eyes you. He's trying his best to control himself. To be the adult here. You're just twenty. Just a kid.

And he sees how you look at him. He's been alive for two centuries. He knows what lust looks like, he knows when someone wants him. And you want him.

You want him bad.

He can smell your arousal as his eyes study your body. His cock twitches in his pants, alert, and he suppresses the need.

“Are you aware that you've got a C in my class?” he asks.

You blink. “Wh—Why? What?” you stutter. He can hear your heart beating faster. He's got you.

“Yeah. C, kid. C. You're not gonna pass my class with a C. The minimum is a B.”

You sigh, glancing down at the floor. “I'm...I'm sorry. I just...I guess I've been a little distracted lately.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Is something goin' on, kid?”

“...no,” you murmur.

He hears the spike in your heartbeat. He knows you're lying.

“Kid,” he says in warning. “Look, it's okay. You can tell me.”

When you continue to avoid his gaze, he puts a hand under your chin and tilts your head up so you look at him. “Come on. What's wrong?”

You swallow thickly. He can see it in your eyes, you want to tell him. You're so close to tell him.

You shake your head again. “I—I'm sorry, I can't. You'd...you wouldn't understand.”

He sighs. “Kid, I know,” he says quietly. “I was asking you to give you the chance to tell me.”

Your eyes widen. You're confused. “Huh?”

“I know why you're distracted. You think I can't smell it? Think I can't feel it?”

You blush bright red, your eyes darting around the room as you look for a way out. “I...I...”

He cups your face, caresses your cheek with his thumb. “It's alright. I'm not mad. I'm disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” you echo, staring up at him with those gorgeous, innocent eyes.

“Disappointed you haven't done anything about it,” he says quietly and grins.

Your heart rate picks up, your eyes widen. He grins. “Logan—Professor Howlett, I...I'm sorry. I'm...”

“Kid, it's okay. It's fine. You think I'd call you out on it if I didn't want something to happen? Hm?”

You blink up at him and he smiles. “You know what? I'll help you pass the class. Meet me in my office at four, okay? Not a second later.” He pauses, a sly smirk forms on his lips. “Otherwise I'll have to give you extra credit assignments to make up for lost time. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” you reply nervously.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” You blush a little. The way you say it is different from the way you usually call him sir. You're flirting with him and he's loving it.

“That's a good girl.”

-

I'M SO SORRY this was totally inspired on this teacher I have a crush on and I was like...what if Logan was your teacher??? So yeah 😭

Blog masterlist

[ms-demeanor]

Wait your pfp is not you????

No, that's me.

But this is also me:

(I'm assuming this is because I referred to myself as someone who is perceived as a woman).

My gender is somewhere between "no thank you" and "gesturing at transmasc" but people mostly default to "woman" when I am not actively and intentionally performing a gender and in most situations don't care enough to argue about it and when I accidentally discussed being nonbinary with my boss his reaction was viscerally negative in a way that was genuinely frightening, so I let him continue to categorize me as "woman" even though that isn't a category I particularly feel aligned with.

But, funny story: my pfp is a photo that I took after putting on makeup, posing, and arranging my hair so that I looked more like @cipheramnesia because I am endlessly amused when people mistake us for one another. My day-to-day default is not hair down, winged eyeliner, and lipstick, NOR is it pomade, a fresh shave, and heavy brows. It is no makeup paired with a beanie and a hoodie OR no makeup paired with a tank top and a messy bun.

"Woman" feels like something that I intentionally have to put on, but so does "man" so mostly I just try to wear comfortable clothes and do what comes naturally, which is largely being sarcastic and horny on main.

(any pronouns are fine)

[elexuscal]

So just over a year ago, I made a resolution to myself to get better at Fitness, since I was getting older and i knew if i didn't, the Consequences would begin to manifest. One problem? Historically i have always hated working out.

i knew there were two main reasons why: 1. lingering trauma from the usual Fat/Neurodivergent Kid Mistreated In PE Class Experience 2. oh my god it's so so so boring i would rather do anything more entertaining.

So. I'm not an expert, and i'm definitely not a professional fitness instructor, BUT i have genuinely come to not just tolerate but actually enjoy exercise this past year. So if these are any problems you personally have contended with, these strategies May Help.

One: Remove Barriers

a lot of flavours of neurodivergence struggle with switching between tasks and executive function generally, especially towards something you don't find fun. So first you gotta identify any barriers keeping you from exercising, and removing or mitigating them.

For me, a hurdle i recognised is that if I could not easily access the equipment, I was unlikely to use it. honestly if i couldn't see it i would probably forget it was there. So my first order of business was making a Work Out Zone. I unrolled my yoga mat and gave it a near-permanent place in my room. my weights came out of the closet and placed on a low shelf where i could easily access them, as did my resistance band. now they were always Right there.

I also realised something I detested was the general feeling of sweaty clothes, and in particular, having to change out of them. So Gross. so i started scheduling my work outs for in the the morning after breakfast or right before my nightly showers, aka: when I am changing in and out of my PJs. I'll do my routine (mostly) naked and not have to contend with the extra steps and laundry that sweaty clothes bring.

two: secondary entertainment

like i said: i found exercise very boring. and while i've gotten better over the past year, and can find it meditative, i still prefer having something else to catch my attention.

i used to like to put on video essays. but then i realised i was so often pausing my work outs because the particular video ended, or the pace got slow, or the topic turned to something dark and depressing out of nowhere and killed the vibe, so then i had to stop to find something else--

No. You need something that will keep you in the zone, and won't knock you out of it. I didn't used to listen to music much, but this year i took advantage of a Spotify subscription my sister gifted me (😔) and started just putting on upbeat rock, hip-hop, and pop mixes. it doesn't need to be my favouirte music ever it just needs to Keep Going.

i do find the loud, rhythmic music is really good for keeping my pace up, but if music doesn't do it for you, you might find audiobooks or autoplaying favourite old tv shows/sitcoms might scratch that itch.

Three: Find Other Motivators

Or, "if you can't make your own motivation, store bought is fine"

Gameification is really good here. You might be someone who'll benefit from a pedometer or step-counter app. I have a friend who swears by the Switch Ring-Fit, and I've also heard of folks who use games like Just Dance, Zombies, Run! and Beat Saber to rely on the sweet sweet endorphins generated by hitting a high score.

(BUT: do beware the dark side of gameification, which is the risk of demotivation if you don't hit your goals. For example, after doing GREAT on exceeding my step goal for a month, I got hit with COVID. For about a week and a half I was barely moving beyond the kitchen and back. My step counts plummeted, there was no way to edit the record out, and that made it harder to get back into the groove. Be mindful relying too much on gameification!)

Even outside of literal games, there are ways to scratch this itch. I used secondary objectives as a way to encourage me to keep up with my daily walks. Walking my roommate's dog when he was working long days is an obvious one, but we don't always have a furry friend at our disposal. Then I would rely on mini-challenges like, "pick up 10 cool rocks to paint", "fill this bag with wood for the fireplace", "take 10 pretty pictures", or "get to the corner store to get more milk".

And of course, consider team sports! Many folks I've talked to feel having set training/play times with a team that relies on them crucial to keep them on track!

Four: Don't Measure Success By Weight Loss

I know. I know. Easier said than done. It does not help that like 80% of workout resources online are going to mention this. but above all else, you must resist the beast. (and while not as dicey, measuring success by visible muscle gain can fall into a similar trap).

The biggest benefits to exercise are invisible. it improves cardiovascular health, brain function, tissue regeneration, immune system function, lung capacity, energy levels, literally our whole body. no matter what external changes your body does or doesn't go through, you're still going to be benefitting from exercise, and you do not want to get demotivated chasing unrealistic/irrelevant goals.

Instead, to track your progress, focus on questions like these:

How is exercise impacting my mood? Do I feel less stressed or anxious?

Am I sleeping better?

Is my balance improving?

Is my stamina increasing?

Am I becoming more flexible?

Can I lift/carry heavier weights?

Is my breath control improving?

Over the last year, I've seen marked improvements in all of these. My joints don't hurt as much; it's easier for me to to get up and move; I don't get winded as easily; I generally feel more relaxed and cheerful. Those are all amazing outcomes, and I hope that everyone on their own fitness journey can find the same joy there as I have.