#me and my dick oc

[blueberry-bar]

My Faveriote lesbian and her jersey shores pussy. God me and my dick can’t be real

[allthegothihopgirls]

in my head jason ABSOLUTELY hates the rich lifestyle he's been brought into. bruce is very objective and doesn't exactly get why he shouldn't just give the kids money. if they mention wanting something or needing something new, he either just gives them (more than enough) money for it, or asks alfred to get it for them.

and jason hates this because he grew up pretty much needing everything, and he's gone from one extreme the the other. he hates that if bruce even sees that ie: his favourite jeans have some wear around the knees, he's got 5 new pairs on his bed waiting for him the next day.

idk i feel like it's just one of those weird things he feels icky about. i think one of his first moments of rebellion against bruce would be neglecting all the expensive, new things he has in favour of his same old dingy items he's been using since he moved into wayne manor.

this would be completely new to bruce too, because dick was pretty easily adjusted to the whole overwhelming wealth thing. and he just doesn't get why jason's against it.

[thebigolbee]

All these two know is smoke cigarettes, run the Robco, be bisexual, eat hot chip & lie

[radarchives]

i was sent to anime hell and all i got were these 7 stupid pacts

[babycakezero]

like yes he's evil and i hate him and i want him to die 😾 HOWEVERRR i also want him to put me in a head lock 😻

(THESE FUCKING HASHTAGS ARE INSANE ??? OMG ???)

[lovecoredeity]

I wasn’t super happy with Sapphia’s initial design so here’s a redesign! I’m much happier with this version compared to the initial design!

♡ if you like my art please consider buying me a kofi ♡

[devildom-moss]

Signs of Affection (gift)

Part 3/finale of this request (Lucifer, Leviathan, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon)

(Beelzebub x gn!MC) (Thirteen x gn!MC) (Raphael x gn!MC) (Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +3,600

Beelzebub

By the time Beelzebub finally returned home, it was late. He made a stop after practice with one goal in mind: to make you smile. So, after a long day, the second he walked through the door, Beel went looking for you. Unfortunately, you weren’t in your room. Nor were you in his room – which was a shame, as a selfish part of him hoped to find you curled up in his sheets, waiting for him to get home. He would have asked Belphie if he hadn’t passed out in his own bed for a pre-dinner nap. Then, he remembered: you were in charge of making dinner tonight. How could he have forgotten? Usually, Beel would look forward to your home cooking all day, anticipation building in him until dinnertime. Beel hurried to the kitchen with a smile on his face.

When he found you, Beel couldn’t hold back. He came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist, and buried his face in your neck. Between your scent and the smell of whatever you were cooking, Beel was in a state of bliss. He sighed against your skin and whispered, “found you.”

You noticed that he was still wearing his school uniform. Beel tended to shower and change after he got home – especially when he had practice. “Did you just get back?”

“I’m home now.” Beel hugged you tighter and sighed again. His hot breath tickled your neck. If your presence hadn’t subdued him into a soft, pleasant haze, Beelzebub might have found the words to clarify: now that he finally had you in his arms, he felt at home.

“It’s pretty late. You must be starving. Is that why you came by? I’ll be done soon, I promise,” you reassured him with a soft smile.

“Actually, I came in for this” – Beel took one arm off you to dig something out of his satchel and set a bag of bright crimson candies, tied with a dark green ribbon, on the counter next to the stove – “I bought you a bag of cherry candies.”

“That’s so nice! Thank you, Beel.” You smiled over your shoulder at him.

“I got another bag for myself so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat yours. Wanna try one?”

“Sure.”

Beel pulled out a piece from his own bag – which he had already opened on the walk back home – and unwrapped it for you. Without a word, he brought it up to your lips. You knew you should have been used to him trying to hand feed you by now, but the feeling of his fingertips grazing your lips always stirred something in you, and you were rarely sure whether he was purposefully trying to turn you on or not. Although, those few times where he dared to tease you – by, for example, pushing his finger into your mouth along with a bright cherry candy, and dragging it along your tongue before sliding the saliva-dampened digit down your chin – suggested that he always knew what he was doing to you.

Whether it was from the rush of sugar melting on your tongue or the racing of your heart, your lips curved up.

“There’s that smile.” A soft, breathy chuckle teased you further. “I thought I should bring back something sweet for you – because you’re sweet.”

“Aww, you think I’m sweet?” His words made you melt.

“Yes. You’re a very sweet person,” Beel replied in a candied tone. He loosened his grip around you to place his hands on either side of the stove, boxing you in. Leaning over your shoulder, Beel whispered into your ear: “And you taste even sweeter.”

The seductive drop in his voice sent chills up your spine that caused your shoulders to tremble slightly – an effect you hoped that Beel wouldn’t notice. You did your best to divert his attention and give yourself a chance to calm down. “Are you hungry? Do you want to try some of the stir-fry?”

Beel laughed and opened his mouth for you to feed him. You carefully grabbed a piece of meat with cooking chopsticks and allowed it to cool before holding it in your hands. It wasn’t as if you were eager to feel Beel’s lips on your skin. You just knew that you could trust him to not take a bite out of you more than you could trust him not to bite through the chopsticks. Besides, you didn’t want to contaminate the food by letting him eat with your cooking utensil.

He looked so happy as he chewed. “It’s delicious. I wish I could eat your cooking every day.”

“Thank you, Beel,” you grinned with a hint of pride.

Beelzebub wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your neck affectionately once more. His cheeks burned, and he admitted, “But I still want to eat you most of all.”

Thirteen

When Thirteen invited you to her cave, you hadn’t expected to find such an obvious trap awaiting you. Right in front of the entrance to the cave was a vibrant pink gift box tied with a blue ribbon. She wasn’t fooling anyone, but you would hate to disappoint her, so you approached the present and leaned down to pick it up, trusting that Thirteen wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. Besides, you didn’t sense any malicious magic coming from the present.

The second you lifted the lid, a flurry of bubbles and confetti rushed out of the box. A particularly large bubble that was uniquely semi-opaque floated closer to you. There was something inside, or at least the strange shadow near the bottom suggested as much. You held your hands to catch the bubble, but just as it reached your palm, it burst into a puff of smoke, leaving its contents in your hand. Once the smoke cleared, you saw a bracelet with large, light pinkish-purple colored stone beads.

“Okay, where’s the cute little trickster who designed this?” you yelled out, knowing that Thirteen was probably watching nearby.

There was a gentle rustling in a nearby tree before you saw Thirteen hanging upside down from a sturdy branch. She arched her spine and bent backwards so she could get a good look at you. Thirteen gave you a smile, kicked her legs off the branch, and flipped over, landing safely on her feet. You felt compelled to clap for her.

“Someone called for a cute trickster?” Thirteen walked over while stretching her arms above her head, lifting her shirt up slightly higher.  

You tried to ignore your racing thoughts and asked, showing her the bracelet in your hand, “what’s this?”

“It looks like a thirteen-bead lilac kunzite bracelet – knotted, with a silk cord,” Thirteen answered plainly before a grin snuck up on her face. “Oh~ you mean, is this pretty little accessory and Mr. Bubble Barrage Surprise a gift for a precious human from someone madly in love with them? Who knows.”

“I’d say you might know.” You laughed at her, which only made Thirteen’s smile widen.

“I might,” she confirmed.

“Well, your – I mean their – Mr. Bubble Barrage Surprise was delightful, and it is a very pretty bracelet. Whatever human receives this is lucky, and I’m sure they are just as madly in love with the sender.”

“Oh you!” Thirteen bit her lip, all too pleased that you had not only played along with her but had flirted to the point of making her heart race. “Let me put this on for you.”

“You mean it’s for me?” you teased.

“Stop playing with me – unless you’re willing to put something at stake. In which case, I won’t go easy on you. Now, give it here.” Thirteen held her hand out with a wicked grin. You placed the bracelet in her palm.

Thirteen loosened the bracelet and slipped it over your hand. She rubbed her fingertip over the first stone and continued the motion like they were prayer beads until she got to the seventh. On that one, Thirteen rolled it back and fourth over your skin a few times. Then, she tightened the bracelet around your wrist.

“Thank you, Thirteen. But why did you want to give me this?” Usually, Thirteen preferred to give you food that the both of you could share or gadgets she had made. A bracelet wasn’t something you expected from her. Then, it occurred to you. “Wait, did you make this yourself?”

“What do you think?” Thirteen held your hand up, admiring the way her work looked against your skin. She smirked. “I am good with my hands, after all.”

Trying to ignore her innuendo, you asked, “What made you think to make this for me? It’s so sweet of you.”

“The answer isn’t that sweet; do you still want to know?” Thirteen caressed your knuckles with her thumb.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“I wanted to stake my claim on you. Those idiots are always clamoring for your attention, and I don’t mind that you indulge them, but it makes me feel a bit possessive. Since I’m certain you wouldn’t allow me to bite you every day, this is my way of marking you. I hope you don’t mind.” Thirteen had a soft smile on her lips – tainted with the shame of her jealousy. She grabbed the ends of your bracelet and tugged it gently, guiding your hand upright. Then, she slid her hand up, and intertwined her fingers with yours. “I want you to remember that you’re mine too.”

Raphael

Days alone with Raphael were a rarity, especially days spent comfortably relaxing in his room – and not just because the state of his room was often too chaotic for him to invite you in without any shame. However, Raphael found the place in a post-project cleanliness that encouraged him to ask you over at your earliest convenience. He was happy to have you all to himself.

“Take your shirt off,” Raphael suddenly insisted.

“Excuse me?” He had always been blunt, but the demand startled and flustered you. It wasn’t off the table, but the way he brought up his desires – how he initiated his advances – was jarring. You stared at him, wide-eyed.

Raphael chuckled at your surprise – almost as if he had intentionally phrased it that way just to tease you. He got up and went to his designated “projects for MC” bin and pulled out a neatly folded cloth, “I made you something, and I want to see how it fits you.”

He held a black button-down shirt up to your body. The cuffs and collar had subtle gold and blue embroidery that matched the four-part diamond accent unique to Raphael’s Celestial Realm clothes – the one on his choker and the front of his pantlegs. During his downtime over the past few weeks, Raphael had worked hard, crafting the shirt from scratch and ensuring everything down to the gold-thread buttonholes was beautiful. He had even taken the time to match the golden thread and the diamond-shaped metal buttons.

“Do you not want to get undressed?” Raphael’s lower lip pushed forward in a false pout – and had you realized he was setting you up to tease you, you might not have felt your chest tighten with heart-wrenching pity. That pout revealed its true nature: a wicked smirk unbefitting an angel. “Or maybe you’d like some help, hm?”

“Okay, if you don’t mind,” you agreed coolly, hoping to calm his teasing with shameless honesty.

Raphael draped your new shirt over the edge of his bed, freeing up his hands so he could take his time with you. His fingers lingered along your bare skin, appraising each inch of the exposed flesh he revealed. Scarred, hairy, dry, uneven, or sagging skin – any perceived flaw and every part of your body under his hands deserved the reverence he held for you. Each unnecessary caress was an offering of affection, praise whispered through a brief topographical survey of your body. Once he got you out of your shirt, Raphael took a second to admire you before helping you into the new one. He slowly buttoned it up, savoring the warmth of your core. His fingers stopped after the third button from the top, and he trailed his index finger down your exposed skin until he reached the button he had just done and hooked his finger inside your shirt. A part of him wanted to stop and undress you all over again.

“Raphael.” You cleared your throat in an attempt to pull him out of the daze he had worked himself into. He blinked slowly.

“Sorry. It’s not every day that I get to treat you like my doll.” Raphael held a gentle smile on his lips and dragged his gaze up to your chest as he finished buttoning up your shirt. Just as he imagined it would, the shirt fit beautifully. He smoothed his thumb over the embroidery on your collar. “Perfect.”

Raphael was right. The material was soft, and the shirt was a perfect fit. It was unbelievable. “How did you make this? It feels like you tailored it just for me, but you didn’t even take my measurements. Is that some kind of superpower?”

“Of course not,” Raphael chuckled at your confusion. “You know that silky black shirt you wore at the last R.A.D. event? I thought you looked amazing in it, so I used it to construct a pattern for this shirt.”

“You stole my shirt?”

“No. I borrowed it.”

“What? When? How?” You scrambled to understand what Raphael had done to get his hands on your clothes, but you decided to disregard those concerns and asked, “Do you still have it?”

“Yes – probably. I might have lost it in the sewing process. I’m sorry.” Raphael rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I can buy you a new one.”

“It’s okay. I already have a new shirt thanks to you.” You offered him a soft, understanding smile.

“But you looked really good in that one,” Raphael protested. “Let me buy you a replacement. I insist.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Good.” Raphael busied his hands by folding up the shirt you were wearing before. “Oh, but if I find it, do you want the old shirt back?”

“If you can use it for something else, you can keep it.”

“Oh? Alright.” Raphael nodded. Wonderful. He just had to keep the old one hidden for a few more days.

Mephistopheles

You were busy helping Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Satan with paperwork when Mephisto burst into the student council room. He had been searching for you all day to give you a gift. He’d never admit to keeping his eye out for you – nor would he admit to sinking so low as to ask the one angel he actually got along with if he knew your whereabouts. Luke mentioned seeing Barbatos escorting you to the council room, so Mephisto took that lead and explored it.

It was annoying that you weren’t easier to track down, but Mephisto was especially irritated to find you sitting shoulder to shoulder with Lucifer as that pompous bastard leaned over to examine your work – as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world that Lucifer was coming on to you by pressing himself against you. What an entitled ass. What a rude, desperate, jerk!

Mephisto was fuming as he made his way over to you – although his anger wasn’t directed at the human he was unfortunately enamored with. He came up right behind you and Lucifer and sandwiched himself between the two of you as he set a small black leather box with silver accents down on the table.

“For me?” You stared at him, confused.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at you as if you had just asked the stupidest question he had heard all week. He started to speak: “Are you –”

“Yes, of course it is,” Mephisto cooed, happily interrupting Lucifer, and bent over the table until he had claimed the scarce space between paperwork. He stared at you over his shoulder with a seductive tint that Lucifer should have been grateful to be spared from witnessing. Mephisto’s gaze didn’t break as he asked, “Who else in this room would I go out of my way to spoil, you ridiculous creature?”

“Diavolo, probably,” you answered honestly.

“Lord Diavolo doesn’t require my spoiling. He’s a perfectly capable leader.”

“MC doesn’t require your spoiling either,” Lucifer interjected. “They’re spoiled plenty at home.”

“What sort of egotistical guardian denies someone the simple pleasure of a present because he believes himself capable of tending to their every need?” Mephisto continued to keep his eyes on you as he directed his question at the demon to his side.

“Excuse me? What overinflated suitor believes he’s more capable of pleasing someone who lays their head down in the bed of another?”

“I could ask you the same question!”

“Can you two knock it off?” You sighed, glancing around the room. Barbatos gave you a look that suggested he was two more coded insults away from shutting those two up himself.

“I’m finished with this stack anyway.” Lucifer gathered his paperwork into a tidy pile and got to his feet. “Just call on me if you need anything at all, MC. I’m certain I can fulfill whatever you ask of me.”

Once Lucifer walked away, you saw Mephisto’s shoulders relax. You shook your head, slightly entertained by his commitment to hating Lucifer. “Thank you for the gift, Mephisto. This is very sweet. I’ll open it after I’m done here, okay?”

“Certainly. Well” – Mephisto stood up straight, smoothed down his jacket, and quickly squeezed your shoulder as if he was afraid to let anyone notice that a desire to touch you burned in him – “I should be on my way.”

“Wait. Could I have a kiss before you go?” you asked.

“What? Why would you want –? Right now?” Mephisto felt especially flustered at the idea of kissing you in front of Diavolo and Barbatos. If you had just asked in front of Lucifer and Satan, he would have quickly obliged you.

“Please?” You encouraged him, sweetly.

“What’s the matter, Mephistopheles?” Lucifer made his way back towards the wreckage to antagonize the drowning victim. A sadistic smirk sat on his lips. “I gave MC a kiss the last time I gave them a present. Can’t you do that much?”

“I don’t want to!” Mephisto huffed and stormed away. You felt guilty and were about to chase after him to apologize when he loudly demanded, “Don’t follow me. Just leave me alone.”

You sat back down in your seat and nervously chewed your lower lip. Every part of that situation could have gone better. I probably shouldn’t have asked so much of him, and I didn’t need to be so persistent, you thought. Eventually, you refocused on your paperwork – trying to distract from the awkwardness you felt and to keep your eyes from wandering to the present sitting on the table, taunting you. Mephisto was being so nice to you, and now he's probably in a terrible mood; that didn’t seem fair, and it certainly didn’t seem fair that you were left with a gift that you said you would open. The paperwork-distraction did, inevitably, come to an end. There was nothing left to shove between you and that gift; your hands were idle. Maybe you shouldn’t open it.

“MC,” Diavolo interrupted your thoughts. “I think Mephisto would be happy if you opened it now.”

“He would?” You traced the decorative silver boarder along the top of the box.

“I’ve known him longer than anyone else. If I had to guess, I’d say he was really excited for you to open that present – whether he was here or off sulking somewhere. He just wanted to make you happy.” Diavolo offered you a smile and returned to his desk.

You decided to open it. Inside the box was a well-crafted brooch that was aimed to complement your style, which indicated that Mephisto had carefully considered what would suit you. Underneath the brooch was a small card with your name written on it in Mephisto’s lovely – although possibly ostentatious – calligraphy. You opened the card to read:

Wear this to dinner tonight. Dress nicely. A car will arrive to pick you up at the House of Lamentation at 8pm. Yours, unfortunately, Mephistopheles

He got you a present and asked you on a date – or, well, maybe demanded one. Now you really felt bad for letting him storm off. Would he even still want to keep your date? You pulled out your D.D.D. and anxiously crafted a message.

MC: Hey, Mephi. I’m sorry I was so pushy earlier. I shouldn’t have upset you by asking for a kiss so casually in front of people. I hope you aren’t too upset. . . Do you still want to go on that date tonight? I’ll understand if you want to call it off.

You pressed send and waited for a response that came soon after.

Mephistopheles: Just don’t get so needy in front of Lord Diavolo in the future.

Mephistopheles: And yes, I expect to see you tonight. I’m looking forward to it. However, I need you to do one more thing for me.

MC: Sure, what is it?

Mephistopheles: Bring a change of clothes with you – unless you want me to drop you off at home tomorrow afternoon in the same outfit you were wearing when you left.

You rolled your eyes and tried to tease him.

MC: What? I can’t go home in the morning? Are you not a morning demon?

Mephistopheles: I won’t be done with you by the time morning reaches us. Any other questions, you ridiculous creature?

(kiss version - Mammon, Satan, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Solomon)

A/N: This took way too long and I cannot explain why (I don't know. Maybe my brain is broken). Also we should get to romance the sides after the next update because it would make sense but also because I want to - even if they might disappoint me.

[whimsyvixen]

Been thinking about the blue dick lately 😮‍💨

[duketectivecomics]

Since it’s 2024, I think it’s about time for my yearly PSA:

Hey, Hi 👋 in case it isn’t obvious, this is a Duke Thomas resource/archive blog, dedicated to raising awareness for Duke! I’ve got all sorts of great resources linked in my pinned post, including a Reading Rec list, FAQ, and info about our annual Duke Week! (& so much more!)

I want to especially encourage my followers to reblog this to help spread the word. I’m seeing more and more posts in Duke’s tag that are completely missing the mark when it comes to understanding Duke. One on hand, it’s great news bc that means more people are at least aware of duke (yaaaay)! On the other, it means he’s being subjected to fanon flanderization (boooo).

I want to encourage y’all because those kinds of posts are exactly why I made this blog in the first place. Duke is by FAR the easiest batfam member to read for. I’ve also curated a lot of great meta on him over the years & im always looking forward to adding more! Give this blog a follow, shoot me an ask, let’s learn more about Duke in 2024!!!

[gundamcalibarney]

uhhhh something about roses being red and violets being blue????

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 34 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

I'm running out of GIFs ahhhhhh!!

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls anyone else please let me know.

We sat in the bar drinking and laughing. All of the nurses were giggling and gossiping over their drinks. 

When we had arrived the rest of the nurses were already waiting for us. They had saved a cute booth in the back for us to all squish into. There were so many of us girls that we practically sat on top of each other, but no one seemed to mind.

I listened to all of their stories, hanging off every word, I missed talking to women. I forgot how much more in depth their tales were, we always got every piece of information we could about the topic, even if it didn’t have anything to do with the plot. Men only had the basics they could tell a story from start to finish, but they didn’t have the fine details. 

The bar was crowded with other army personnel and members of the public. The record playing behind the bar was hard to hear over all the noise. We all had to lean in close, raising our voices to be heard over all the commotion. 

Being a group of women, we were attracting attention. Men would come and go from the table, trying to sidle up to the girl who took their fancy, but there was never enough room for them to squeeze into the booth. So they took to pulling up chairs at the end of the table, basically trapping us in. 

Unfortunately for me our group had been the last one to arrive, so I was stuck on the outer edge of the booth. 

It was fine, I had mastered ignoring them and most of them wanted to talk to the other nurses, which I was thankful for. 

I was almost sitting on top of poor Alice, who was the youngest nurse in the group. Her sweet round face and big doe eyes took in the world with wonder. She had told me this was her first time in a bar and that she had never drunk alcohol before. I watched in amusement as she took her first sips of a wine we had ordered her. 

“Oh god!” She coughed, puckering her face with the sour drink. “It burns.”       

We all giggled, as she blushed shyly.

“To Alice’s first sip!” I cheered, raising my glass, the rest of the nurses laughed and raised their glasses as we all clinked them together.   

“How are you finding it?” I bumped her with my shoulder. 

“The drink?” She asked, making a grimacing face. I laughed loudly at her naivety. 

“No, I can tell by your face the opinion you have about the drink. I meant the pub. Are you liking it?”  

“Yes, it’s very fun!” She replied in a chipper manner. 

“A bit later we should dance.” I suggested, I watched her face light up as she nodded. 

“I love dancing!” She sighed dreamily. 

“Do you love dancing? Or dancing with someone in particular?” I questioned. 

The blonde’s face blushed a deep shade of red as she dipped her head down. 

“Could you tell?”

I laughed again. Alice was so sweet my teeth hurt. 

“Yes, your big love heart eyes gave you away.” I teased. 

“He said he would come tonight, but I haven’t seen him.” I watched her crane her neck over the crowd trying to spot him, but her lip caught between her teeth. 

“I’m sure he’ll come.” I tried to reassure her. 

I spoke to Alice most of the night, it was more difficult to speak to the rest of the girls due to the noise.  

“When did you start working?” I asked, thinking she looked so young. 

“A couple months ago, they were needing more nurses since they were so short, they said they would take anyone. So I applied.” I nodded my head listening to Alice speak. 

“You’re very brave.” I told her, as she sent me a soft grin. 

“No, you’re more brave than I. You work on the front, don’t you?” Alice asked, tilting her head. 

“I did, not anymore. But I do have to tell you the scariest thing was how bad those men smelt.” I grinned as she threw her head back in fits of laughter. 

“What’s happening?” I asked as the rest of the nurses made their way out of the booth. 

“They cleared the dance floor!” Ruth cheered. “Come on!” 

I smiled at Alice and we jumped up from our seats. We followed the rest of the group onto the floor. The men had been quick to action, swooping in and stealing all the nurses away to dance with them. 

“Care to dance.” I extended my hand to Alice, putting on a masculine voice. 

“Why of course, Sir.” She curtseyed while giggling at my silly antics. 

Alice and I danced around the room in hysterics, we ignored the odd glances sent our way from the other patrons who were watching from the outskirts of the floor. 

After a while a man tapped my shoulder and asked to cut in. I looked over to Alice as her eyes became large and blush rose to her cheeks. From the way she bit her lower lip nervously, I could tell it was the person she had spoken about earlier. 

“You be good to her.” I warned, but still handed her over to the tall man.    

I watched like a proud mother, as Alice and her guy swayed together. I enjoyed watching all of the nurses dancing with their men. Their knowledge of the different types of dances amazed me. With each new song they knew the exact dance that went with the tune. After a while of watching I made my way back to the booth, waiting for the girls to finally come back to the table.

“Hey, I know you! You’re Easy company’s medic.” I startled as the random man slumped down into the space next to me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to discreetly scoot away but he had cornered me right into the back wall. 

“I am one of them.” I said hesitantly. The man smelt of booze and slurred as he talked. Each time he spoke he lent agonisingly close, his hot breath wafting over my face.     

“You must be tired.” The drunk man sent me a greasy smile. 

“No, I have other medics who help me.” I informed the man, confused by his comment. I furrowed my brow trying to peek over his shoulder to see I could rally some assistance, or at least distraction. 

“No,” He chuckled, “from being passed around.”

I stilled, turning my head slowly to see if I heard him correctly. He looked at me smugly, my stomach twisted. 

“Excuse me?” My lip curled into a snarl, but the man was too drunk to notice.

“Won’t you let me have a turn?” He smiled at me, his hands wandered down the inside of my thighs. I gripped his wrists, trying to keep him from exploring any further.   

“Fuck off!” I snapped, trying my best to escape the corner he had me tucked into. His back was facing toward the crowd, his whole body was covering mine. I’m sure I couldn’t even be seen from the position we were in. 

“Aw, that's no way for a lady to talk. Come on, everyone else has had a ride.” The man licked his lips, I almost gagged. It was a split second decision, my head clouded by the wines I had drunk, I raised my hand. I knew it was a bad idea but my hand was already wound up behind my head. 

I slapped him across his face, sending him cowering back. 

“I said, fuck off!” I asserted, but my tone didn’t match my actions. My voice shook slightly as I came to terms with what I had done.

He looked at me in disbelief, clutching the cheek I just struck. My handprint left a red welt on his face. 

I knew from the rage that spread across his features, I had fucked up. 

I tried to scramble out the other side of the booth, but the only way to move was to scoot around the bend and then down the length of the rest of the bench. 

Not even two scoots along, he had caught up to me. His arms longer than mine reached my limbs and dragged me back. 

Pinning me to the back corner by my throat, the drunk man loomed over me. His nostrils flared as he glared down at me in disgust. 

“You motherfucker.” He growled lowly in my face. 

“No, but I did fuck your Dad.” I said mockingly. My drunk mind was taking more control than the sober me, who was in the back of my head yelling at me to scream for help. 

The man guffawed in shock. He reeled his arm back ready to strike, just as he was about to swing his wrist was captured by a hand. 

In a split second the man was gone. He was right in front of me, huffing down into my face, then in a blink of an eye he was being dragged out of the booth. 

I sat for a moment in shock, not quite believing my eyes. I darted out of the booth, following behind the man who had my assailant by the scruff of the neck. 

No one stood in the way of the pair as the soldier hauled the man through the crowd. 

“Hey!” I called out after them, as I pushed my way through the onlookers. 

I followed them outside, watching as the soldier threw the man onto the ground. The drunk rolled in the gravel before getting to his feet. Raising his fist in front of his face readying himself for a fight. 

As I looked around I saw that a group had formed around the pair, my brows furrowed as I clocked familiar faces. Bull, Babe, George, it was all Easy men. 

“What the-” I muttered under my breath before my attention was caught again. 

The drunk man lunged forward sloppily, his fist swinging out wildly trying to hit his opponent. The man dodged his attack ducking to the side and moving past the man as he ran forwards. 

He now stood facing me. 

“Donald what the fuck!” I yelled in disbelief. I had no idea how I hadn’t noticed it was him this whole time. 

Don looked over to me as I glared at him. The drunk man darted forward again, but Don wasn’t paying attention, he was too busy looking back at me. 

I watched in horror as the man’s fist collided with Malarley’s face. He stumbled back clutching his cheek, before shaking his head and raising his own fists.  

“No!” I marched forward getting ready to intervene in this stupid fight, but hands caught around my waist holding me back. 

“Let go!” I struggled against the strong arms but their grip held firm. 

“Just let him get in a good few hits, and then I’ll let you go.” Lieb whispered in my ear. 

“No, I don’t need him to fight my battles for me. I was dealing with the situation.” I raised my voice loud so Don could hear me. 

“Right like you were handling it! You were seconds from being hit in the face.” Don chimed in from across the gravel.

“Why do you even care?! You wanted space, remember?” I didn’t care who was listening. I was so angry all I could focus on was Malarkey. 

“We can talk about that later.” Don said while dodging another attack from the man. His fist snapped out from his side, audibly crunching into the man’s nose.  

The drunk man hollered in pain, collapsing into a heap on the floor. Bright red blood poured from his nose as he clutched it screaming out in agony. It was definitely broken. 

Finally Lieb let me go. I stormed out of his arm right towards Don. 

“What is wrong with you?” I shoved his chest, but he didn’t budge as he stared down at me. 

I bent down to the man who was cradling his injured face covered in his own blood. 

“Here let me help.” I offered my assistance. I reached out to move his hands away from his nose so I could see it better. 

“Why are you helping him?” Don scoffed trying to pull me to my feet. 

He was right, I have no idea why I was trying to help this man when not even five minutes ago he was groping my thighs and asking for a turn.

The drunk fended me off, “Like I want your help, you got me into this.” He growled at me as he got to his feet and trudged off. 

I was about to raise my head and have another go at Don, but before I could say anything I was tugged away and steered back into the bar and towards the dance floor. 

George twirled me round, placing his hand in mine and the other on my waist. 

“Wooh, look at you. Even when you’re about to get beaten up, you still look good.” I stared at him in shock for a second before I laughed. 

“What on earth are you doing?” I was baffled by the man as he grinned at me. 

“Come on doll, let me give you a spin.” He twirled me again, disorientating me on purpose to distract me. 

“I don’t know how to dance George!” I protested, trying to leave his arms.

“Oh, of course you do. Don’t lie to me! I literally saw you dance back in Hagenau.”  

“Well I don’t know how to do this dance.” I gestured towards all of the couples who were doing the most elaborate dances with ease. 

A Frank Sinatra song started playing over the record. George took me under my arm resting his hand on my back and holding our other hands together. 

“What dance are we gonna do?” I asked nervously. 

“The foxtrot.” George grinned at me, I gave him a scared look, but he just chuckled at me. 

George patiently taught me the steps. After stepping on his toes multiple times, I finally got the dance. 

We glided around the floor, looking like the other couples I was in awe of moments ago. I was able to actually look at George as we danced, not having to look at my feet anymore or think too hard about what they were doing.

“What’s up with you and Don?” He asked tentatively. 

I sighed, shaking my head. “I don’t know, we had a fight, he said he wanted space and I guess I just spiralled from there.”

“Yeah, I brought you in for a dance cause it looked like you were about to bite each other’s heads off.” George laughed. 

“Thank you, I needed the distraction. Also why are you all here anyway?” They hadn’t said anything about coming out tonight. 

“We might have told Don how beautiful you looked and that if he didn’t come out here after you, you’d probably be swept off your feet by another man.” George replied quickly. 

“Well you were right, someone did sweep me off my feet!” 

“Who?!” George asked, looking around frantically. 

“You, stupid.” I laughed, he sighed in relief, finally getting the joke and chuckling. 

George dipped me down dramatically before bringing me up again. I giggled as he spun me round then pulled me back to him catching me before I smashed into his chest.  

The songs slowed, as the couples around us swayed gently to the music. We stood still, stepping from one foot to the other swaying to the beat. A hand tapped on George’s shoulder as we whispered to each other. We looked over to find Malarkey smiling at us. 

“Mind if I steal her away Luz?” Malarkey asked.

---------------------------------------

Chapter 35

[fishfingersandscarves]

little koh doodle

[thebigolbee]

So we know that Marlow would get along with Hancock (wonderful, blessed, love it), but I’m curious, do you think he’d get on well with Nick?

Oh this is an awesome question, thanks so much for asking it! More to read below :)

Nick and Marlow have a very strained relationship, despite being on the same team? They're both vigilantes fighting for justice and safety, but while Nick is the methodical detective type, Marlow can be more of a, well…volatile…executioner? He lives his life in extremes and his methods can be pretty wild, though his heart is in the right place and he's done a lot of good for what's left of humanity. Sometimes he does straight up participate in some unsavory activities, though… so it's natural for people to have varying opinions on him.

Since their personalities are so different, when Marlow hangs around the Commonwealth before the events of FNV and FO4, these two butt heads quite a lot. Nick is a very kind and patient person, but even Richie wears his patience very thin. It doesn't help that Nick keeping tabs on him like a potential threat drives Marlow CRAZY. Nick and the community's caution towards Rich kind of turns him into a self-fulfilling prophecy… a common theme in Marlow's story.

In short, Marlow travels to the Commonwealth after his heartbreak in the Capital Wasteland to find a new home, but he leaves for New Vegas even more disheartened than before. Nick does have a some part in this after he proves to be a more suitable protector and role model for the area, but it's not like that was Nick's goal at all. Nick really does wish the best for Marlow, and if Marlow has the chance to work on himself and heal his heart in FNV, they get to have a much better relationship in the future :)

[cerise-on-top]

I just saw your Graves with a tall reader, which I loved, so funny at times. So you know I gotta do it, can I request Graves with a short reader? Gotta boost that man's ego 💜

Glad to hear the Graves simps are enjoying my writing and want him to be doing well mentally! And I agree, sometimes you just need to make Graves happy since he, too, will notice your efforts and try to make you happy as well, even if he does it the Graves way!

Graves with a Shorter!Reader

Graves will have hit the jackpot with someone shorter than him in all honesty. As mentioned already, it’s in his blood to be bigger and stronger and scarier than his partner, which means he gets to protect them at all times. I can see him actually going for shorter people as well. While, if asked about it, he would always tell you that it’s because you have an easier time seeing just how reliable he is, in reality he just wants to feed his ego. He used to be taller than everyone else until he stopped growing, he really just wants to feel good about himself in all honesty. Every time he looks at you, he becomes aware of the height difference and sometimes the sly bastard even starts smiling about it. The bigger the height difference the better.

If he can literally tower over you, maybe trap you between him and the wall while he looks down at you, then all is good in his life. The shorter you are the better the angle at which you view him. He can toss his hair back and it will look as though he was in some series or movie with an attractive lead, in his eyes. Besides, he also gets to tilt your face so you’ll look at him when he’s talking. In all honesty, he genuinely believes he can fluster you more easily when he’s the taller one, and he genuinely just wants you to be speechless at least once in a while. Will sweet talk you while putting his fingers under your chin.

He’s also more prone to letting you be the big spoon, or lets you hold him more often in general. You being his backpack is funny to him, as mentioned before, so he will take his sweet time enjoying the feel of you being tiny. Again, if it was up to him, you’d be roughly 1,50, or something around that. That way there would, at the very least, still be 15cm between the two of you. Graves is a very touchy person in general, so don’t be surprised if he walks up to you and puts his head on top of yours, maybe even trying to put some weight of his on you as well so you can feel just how powerful he is. You’re more than welcome to try and shake him off, though. He will feign hurt, but it amuses him anyway.

Remember how I said Graves would be even more butthurt if you crack a few too many jokes about his height when you’re taller? He’d have his fun with someone who is sensitive about their height. You will constantly hear him refer to you as his little something, whether that be little sweetie, little honeypie or even his little pile of sugar. As long as he gets to emphasize you being the shorter one he’ll be happy. If you’re dysphoric about your height, then he’ll stop, but if you’re only mad because of a relatively harmless reason, you’ll never hear the end of it. Might even crack a joke such as pointing at a skittle on the ground and saying it’s almost as small as you are. The bigger your reaction, the better. Force him to sleep on the couch and he might stop for a day or two, but you can never get him to permanently stop.

Loves picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You can struggle all you want, this man can carry his own Shadows over his shoulder while they’re struggling, so you don’t really stand a chance against him. He gets all the more smug if you do struggle since he knows you won’t be able to escape him. It’s things like that where he wants to show you that he can easily overpower you, but he can easily protect you as well. Just be his lovely little partner, don’t grow too much and you have a loyal guy at your service until the end of eternity. Also, he will hold you over his head and comment on your cuteness. Graves doesn’t get cuteness aggression, but he could pretend he does and squish your cheeks whenever he feels like it.

Will pick you up and sit you down on his lap as well. Yes, he will wrap his arms around you as well and render any attempt at escaping futile. Besides, getting to hold you does reassure him quite a lot. His world is in his arms, safe and sound, and he gets to pretend he’s still a cool man. He genuinely believes you think him to be a badass, even with all the teasing and whatnot. Graves has a somewhat high opinion of himself on a good day, but you can still reassure him that he is pretty epic. You can comment on how strong he is and he’ll likely flex for you, offering you to touch his bicep. But at the end of the day, barely any of this matters, what’s important is that you wanna stay with him and feel like there’s a future ahead for you. Give him a kiss and tell him you admire him and he’ll be over the moon, regardless of whether you’re shorter or taller than him.

[onlydrawnbad]

Do you ever read 570,000+ word, 130+ chapter fanfics that were started nearly 8 years ago and have current year updates, and as you get to the end of certain chapters along the way, you keep going "wow, I would have hated to be here in 201x and have to wait for THAT cliffhanger, those poor readers, those sad, desperate historical souls" and you're just so glad for yourself because you know you don't have to stop until chapter 139, and you arrogantly assume that's probably just extended epilogues or something (because you were previously conditioned by another fic to believe that), so everything will be fine?

Only to get to chapter 139 and SCREAM OUT LOUD because you jinxed yourself right into THE NEWEST WAVE OF CLIMATIC PLOT CHAPTERS WHERE ALL THE SHIT IS GOING DOWN and now you, too, have become the reader you felt such pity for?

Wait, you don't?

THEN GO OVER THERE AND DO WHAT I DID SO I DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE IN MY HUBRIS. It comes with art. So. Much. Wonderful. Comic. Art.

I would like to stress (as I have done before) that I have never played this game. Not once. I had never even heard of it originally. Yet this is now the second absolutely massive Sans x reader/OC fic I have read in this fandom. Everything I know about Undertale, I learned because one day on a whim I decided to read a 480,000+ word, 170+ chapter fanfic because I liked the way @tricktster used words on some tumblr post (don't ask me which one, I've forgotten). I have re-read that fic at least once a year, if not more, for multiple years in a row because it's like a favorite book to me now.

If anyone needs me, I'll be comfort-reading it, again.

And then probably going back and re-reading JoAT, because oh my god that fic. I'm just so in love with it for a million reasons.

(Yes, it took me this long to see there was another glorious treasure in plain sight under @capnhanbers despite following @mod2amaryllis and it's just really embarrassing to be confronted by that kind of obliviousness, okay? Can I blame it on how, multiple times now over the years, I've gone months and months without looking at this app unless it notified me of something specific?)

I swear, I have never read fic in any other fandom where it was this easy to immerse myself in it with nothing more than some light googling along the way (the first time with CoBC), and the googling was just because I'm me and I like to know all the things. In both cases, you don't have to come to the table with anything other than an interest in supernatural-elements stories (monsters, magic, etc) and a love for snappy dialogue and funny (dad) jokes and HEART-WRENCHING FEELS and watching the author having a life journey in the notes.

(And yes, sure, an open mind about a skeleton monster and a human having magical sex, but if you know you're in a rated fic about monsters and humans, you must know that's going to be a thing.)

[2d-beefcakes-my-beloveds]

OC Marina Grayson

As a young man, Orm fell in love with a marine researcher. When she didn't return the next year with the pod of dolphins she was studying, he assumed she had been killed over their relationship bc it's something his father would've done. When he finds out it's actually bc he's a father and small children aren't allowed on research vessels, he peacefully abdicates the throne to his brother so he can marry the love of his life and raise his daughter in Gotham. Since he has the wealth of the ocean at his disposal, he purchases the local aquarium so they can still do marine research and start sharing some Atlantean knowledge with the surface world in order to help environmental awareness.

(HC for all Atlanteans) Atlanteans have scales they can display at will, and coloring is indicative of familial line. They also have facial markings when underwater and generally the bolder the better; more fierce and therefore beautiful. Orm inherited a Siren's Voice from his mother, and Marina was able to prove her ancestry with her Royal Gold scales and the incredibly rare Siren's Voice. Her facial markings look similar to a goth egirl, and are considered the height of Atlantean beauty. When she does her makeup on land she mostly just adds back her natural features, though the specific colors and shaping might vary a little. Dick is considered kinda ugly in Atlantis without the domino mask.

Because of her vocal ability, she had to visit Atlantis fairly often for training in control and as a backup heir to the throne. She was trained in traditional combat using a trident, but she's never felt right with the thought of ever needing to use it to take a life. The Atlantean public loves their kind and gentle surface princess, but the other court families think she's too free spirited and want to push their sons on her to keep the Voice within Atlantis.

She was Dick's classmate and acquaintances at the very least until she saved him from drowning in Gotham Harbor when they were 11. She dived in to rescue Robin, and was shocked to hear her classmate's voice thanking her. She paired up with Dick on their next school project so she could have an excuse to visit the Manor. She then confesses to Dick, Bruce, and Alfred to having figured out their secret, and tells them about her being Atlantean to show she's not intentionally a threat.

She and Dick become good friends after this since they can talk about their secret lives, and she joins the original Teen Titans when they form. She wrote the choreography for the team's lip-sync and dance videos for their official YouTube channel since, as younger millennials, they were some of the first heroes to publicly goof off on the internet in costume.

At one point during a school dance, she slapped her own date for calling her best friend a "dirty gypsy." There was a month or so when they were 15 where Dick did date Starfire, but there's no hard feelings or jealousy from it.

In high school, she was a competitive diver and worked at the aquarium as a mermaid in the shark exhibit in her spare time. She picked up air ribbon acrobatics as well because it's the closest thing she can do on land that feels like being underwater.

I'm undecided as of yet how they started dating, but Dick proposed with his mother's necklace. Some Romani vistas (I've heard) use coin necklaces, so I think he'd use his mom's the same way ppl use heirloom rings. It amuses Wally to no end that Circus Boy has a royal title and his favorite teasing nickname is "Your Highness."

Marina quit being a vigilante as they got older because it was getting harder to pull her punches as she got stronger. She recognized that it would be devastating for Surface-Atlantean relations if either the Princess or a representative hero killed someone even on accident, so stepped back to be a more supportive role as Surface Ambassador and post patrol medical assistance. Most of her work as Surface Ambassador involves negotiating ocean cleanup and environmental improvements on a governmental level with the various world powers.

She absolutely does not want to inherit the Atlantean throne. She despised her tenure as Regent while Arthur was dead before he was brought back to life in Darkest Night, and gave the throne back the very next day so she could go home.

While Bruce was stuck in the time stream, she was fully on board with Dick over legally adopting Damian. Sometimes he'll actually call her Ummi since she's more affectionate than Talia, especially when he's overtired. She does eventually adopt him under Atlantean law by challenging Talia for Mother's Rights. Since their fight was underwater due to Atlantean rules and Talia wanting whatever's best for her son, Marina wins and Damian is technically royalty as well now too. She's not even mad that Talia let her win, and gains a new respect for her as a mother who's willing to let her child go for a healthier upbringing than she could give.

When at home or for some semblance of privacy in public, Dick and Marina speak a blend of English and as much Romani as Dick can remember. Sometimes they'll include some Atlantean for extra security in public, but as English is Marina's first language they don't usually bother.

In the public eye on the surface, Dick is considered the trophy husband with a day job as a detective. He kinda loves their visits to Atlantis bc he's actually taken seriously as Dick Grayson without his pretty privilege. He can actually be his fully intelligent self there without the Atlantean public being shocked that he has more than a single brain cell.

Marina fully encourages sibling shenanigans amount the younger Batfam. She and Dick used to prank Bruce after all, and it's good and healthy bonding for them.

Jason is the adorable little brother who was taken too soon and came back angry yet still just as loved. She's kinda neutral about Tim but fully supports his tinkering and pranking shenanigans, and he likes her coffee more than Alfred's. Unfortunately I haven't known about most of the rest of the younger members long enough to have any relationship specifics in mind, but she's kinda like the cool auntie to all of them who will absolutely provide mischief supplies and assistance. No questions asked, just immediate "here you go I didn't see or hear anything."