#mentioning that jon ‘likes his black’.

[losver07]

was working on my wip and realised this scene is so wolfstar coded so ummm here ya go (sorry in advance for the awful translation lol)

also this is veeery long so i'm putting most of it under the cut

tw: mention of death, harsh(ish) lenguage

★

"Then came the ambulance and the police,” he murmurs, his eyes fixed somewhere in the room, mind showing him once again the image of Sirius' tired smile. "They gave me a blanket. I felt stupid in it."

John, observing him with deep eyes, full of compassion, nods. Remus figures he can't show it, the pity. That it's part of his job not being able to say Oh, you poor thing and that, instead, he must be professional. And it's not that John is bad at it, at hiding what he thinks; it's just the eyes.

It's impossible to lie with one's eyes. Sirius' always shine, even if he insists on wearing the blackest clothes.

Shined. Not anymore. And he doesn't dress in black anymore, it's Remus who has to mourn now, instead of him. And for him.

"How are you feeling?" the psychologist asks, and Remus makes an effort not to cry.

"I don't know," he answers, honest. He doesn't know what words to use. "Bad."

Not enough. John gestures at him to keep talking, to elaborate. He always does that. It's cruel.

Remus looks down at a ring he takes off his finger, and proceeds to watch it turn in his hands as he fidgets with it. It was Sirius'. Everything he owns was either his or reminds him of him in some way. Even the smallest of things, the silliest of details.

If only he could get rid of it all. If only he knew that'd make him forget.

"It's like I don't really believe this is real,” he says, without lifting his gaze from the steel ring. It's carved in a checkered pattern, a chess board that extends and hugs the owner's finger like a ribbon. It's not excessively visible but, if you brush your finger against the metal, you can feel the shapes against your skin, kissing your fingertips like he once did. That feels like so long ago, though. “I... I'm sad, obviously, but also angry. I think it was selfish of him."

Before it had been his, Sirius', the ring had belonged to Regulus. It had been silver then. Sirius turned it into steel when he'd received it from his brother, who got it from their father, whose father had gifted him it, and so on. It must be hundreds of years old.

"Selfish?"

He'll probably ask to be buried with it. If it's not worn on his left hand, it will be trapped on a chain around his neck.

"Yeah, I dunno," he shrugs. He doesn't know how to explain himself. He knows how he feels, he just finds it difficult to believe that anyone could understand it. He tries anyway. "He's gone and he's left us all here as if we didn't have enough problems of our own," he says. "Like, now I have to be myself, which is already tough enough, and also be him for James and Peter and Harry and... Oh, God, Harry..." He shuts his eyes. He needs to breathe. He closes his hand over the ring, and looks at John. "But I need him too. And I don't have him. I don't have anyone to treat me like he did. So, I don't know."

The therapist nods again. When he started the sessions, Remus thought it was weird that John didn't take any notes, like in the movies. It might sound stupid, but he imagined someone constantly writing on a notepad, making a record of every word that came out of his mouth.

It turns out John only uses his notebook to write dates and appointments down; that he actually listens to what he says, instead of analysing every sentence as if it were a mathematical problem.

He's been lucky, and he knows it. At least in this, he's been lucky.

"Do you feel responsible for what happened?" He asks, and Remus thinks about it for a second. Now that the unease has lessened, he's left with just the cold on the tip of his nose and the metal on his fingers. He misses hugging Sirius on cold days like this one.

"Yes," he answers. No point in lying.

John stares at him. Elaborate, he's probably thinking. He always looks at him like that when he wants to make Remus talk.

"I'm the one who was supposed to take care of him," he says then. "And, instead of that, what I did was use him to make him help me with my shit. And even after he's gone I'm still whining about him not being here to give me cuddles. I don't know. Maybe I'm the one who's being selfish.

The psychologist, whose diploma is Remus now observing, makes a face.

"Wanting love is not selfish, Remus," he says, so soft and kind it almost makes Remus feel small, vulnerable and about to break. Or already broken.

"But taking the love away from someone and keeping it to yourself is," he objects.

"You think that's what you did? Taking the love from him?"

"I don't know," he says, and before John can ask him to explain, he continues: "I think maybe if I'd made things right he'd still be here."

The air is still for a few seconds, both in the room and in the street across the window, as well as inside of Remus' lungs, who holds his breath in an attempt to make the ache on his chest go away. It doesn't work.

"It wasn't your fault that he suffered," Josh tells him, but he's been told so many lies he doesn't need to think to detect the lie.

"But it was that he didn’t stop suffering," he tells Mr Too Good For Taking Notes. He should've had that noted. "I should've done something. It's what I'd to have done."

John, wanting to understand but being apparently incapable of it, furrows his brows a bit. The expressions only last a second, and is not even that exaggerated, but Remus sees it anyway. The doubt.

"You think it was your purpose?" He asks. He acts interested. Sometimes he almost even makes Remus forget that he's paid for what he does. That he wouldn't be there if it weren't for the money. That he's got better things to do than...

"Helping him?" Remus asks, trying not to sound too aggressive, but probably failing. "Yes."

"And do you think you were, say, destined to save him?"

"Yes," he agrees. A bit cheesy his personal taste, but, yes, that's what he believes. Why lie, if he's not going to write it down, even.

"But, if it was destiny, how could you have avoided it?"

That feels like a boot to the stomach. He doesn't quite know wether it confuses him or it makes him angry but, either way, he doesn't know what to answer. Perhaps not having thought of it earlier is what irritates him and puts him, once again, in front of a mirror in which a disappointment shines.

He thinks for a bit. Then speaks.

"Trying harder," he says. "Being better."

"No, Remus; is not about trying," his confidant tells him, with a smile that could either indicate complicity or compassion. "You did all that you could, and more. And, still, you couldn't change it, nor can you now."

For some reason, that hurts. Rather, it stings. Both in his open wounds and his sore eyes.

"And what do I do?" He asks. His voice doesn't seem to want to know the answer, as it doesn't cooperate in making itself heard. He swallows and takes a deep breath, letting Sirius' ring slide back into his finger, where it should always have stayed.

"Think about what you did achieve," John offers, so careful it seems almost meticulous. "You made him happy for a time, you gave him peace. You made him feel safe, too. Confident. You helped each other. That's good."

"But he's dead," Remus says. He's not sure he's used that word since it happened. It's not likely, seeing how much it hurts pronouncing it. He's spent over a month circling around and avoiding one of those damned words, the ones that feel like mines in an already ruined field. He presses his lips and looks at John, cheeks wet with rivers of salty water. "That's bad."

"Yes," the therapist agrees. "That is bad."

[seventh-district]

i’ve just finished season one of TMA, and being someone who’s okay with spoilers is fun because it means i can peruse the wiki and scroll through the tag and i get to become privy to all sorts of weird, wonderful, halfway-out-of-context information that i get to look forward to understanding in the future

like. what do you mean Leitner’s in the tunnels?

what do you mean Jon eats the extinguished sun??

what do you mean it’s spelled Gerard Keay???

[ashes-in-a-jar]

Mixed feelings about the Jon mention in this one tbh

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

HELP YOURSELF

summary : in a family filled with intriguing members of their own right , duke has a particular interest in a certain vigilante in the family that everyone seems to overlook . this interest leads to the family to spiral into obsession .

When he was first introduce to the Wayne family , Duke was overwhelmed , everyone was so talented , so special and unique and came from such - complex backgrounds , it was hard to ever find something or anyone dull in the family . Duke had his highs with the family - from patrol , to movie nights every Saturday , food fights on Monday mornings because of course Jason had to rile up Damian but he had his lows - particularly the fact that he was the only sole meta in the family .

Something so minute shouldn't affect him , I mean come on isn't badass that he's in a family that can accomplish so much with sheer willpower without powers ? Though , it hurts every time he sees Conner teach Jon how to use his super strength without hurting himself in the process . He seethes in envy every time he witnesses it because he swears it ensnares him in a painful grasp - reminding him that he's the bystander in this family and that he's the only odd one out.

He shakes away the chill that runs up his spine and returns his focus back to the scene in front of him , a young woman is desperately trying to yank her purse away from some lacky burglar. ' Easy' Duke thinks to himself as he effortlessly swoops down from the rooftop he is perched on and landed on the thug . " Leave this poor woman alone " Duke commands as he pressed his legs onto the burglar's back. The burglar growls and pushes himself off the floor - practically making the woman scream . Duke immediately goes to jump away and reassess the situation when the burglar spins around inhumanely fast mid air to face the vigilante .

Bewilderment and confusion was all Duke felt but regardless he goes to land a sucker punch to the burglar's mask face when suddenly the burglar takes out a bomb from his inner pocket and throws it at the woman behind them. The woman screams as the bomb makes a beeline towards her and Duke wants to scream in frustration at how utterly stupid she's being and the fact that the burglar has outplayed him.

Suddenly , a figure clad in black with red accents jumps in front of the lady and catches the bomb effortlessly and throws it aside like it was nothing. Duke takes this time to sucker punch the burglar into the floor while he was distracted with the bomb's dentation , causing the man to groan in pain . While Duke is handcuffing the burglar , he eyes the figure in the corner of his eye handing the woman her purse before approaching him.

" Thank you ..... " Duke trails off as he watches the figure properly . He notes that they adorn a black body suit but has a red spider symbol in front near their chest . They adorn black helmet that covers the entirety of their face , only showing the user's dark brown eyes.

"Widow "the figure answers before leaping away from Duke . " Wait ! Who are you , I've never met you before !" exclaims as he extends his hand in attempt to reach out to them . " Just stay safe kid you don't know what you're doing " the figure says , directing a glare at him before they vanish.

That afternoon , Duke returns back to the mansion , he slumps against the kitchen table , the weight of patrolling all day and the situation of meeting a strange entity named ' Widow'. Alfred gently pats him on the back and serves him a plate of snadwhiches.

" I take it that today's patrol was exhausting Master Duke" , Alfred asks him as he begins to wash up wares in the kitchen. " You have no idea , met some weirdo who called me a kid like what the hell " , Duke complains as he takes a bite of the sandwich . " Weirdo ?" Alfred questions as he dries a plate. " Yeah some named Widow " Duke replies . Alfred drops the plate.

He feels every muscle on his body tense at the mention of her name , a name that may have been a bygone memory to many but not to him never him . Duke scrambles out of his chair and approaches Alfred . " Hey are you okay ?" Duke asks as he holds the elderly man by the hands. Alfred tries - he tries to talk but is too shocked to say anything - he fears this is a dream , a cruel dream that god bestowed upon him as a punishment - a reminder of his failure .

"Widow - are you sure they said Widow ?" Alfred asks the boy frantically , panic old eyes watching Duke's intently. Duke stumbles back but answers , " Yeah that's what they said why does it matter ?" . Pin drop silence fills the manor as Alfred registers Duke's words. Alfred crouches to the ground , his hands run along the jargoned edges of the broken plate - the rough feeling grounds him , reminding him that all of this is real .

" It matters because that is your sister young master " Alfred forces out. Silence consumes them again . " What ?" Duke questions as he holds onto Alfred tighter. For the five years he has lived with the Waynes - no one never mentioned a Widow or a sister not ever so why is it now that he finds out that he has a sister and one that he has not heard or known about.

Alfred can feel warm hot tears running down his worn cheeks as nostalgic memories of him making a younger you a hot chocolate in the afternoon as you sit in the same chair as Duke had , coloring whilst simply blabbering about your day. He recalls how every night , he can feel your tiny figure sneaking into his bed to hug him with your stuffed bunny You were practically his daughter .

He also remembers that you weren't particularly liked by the Wayne family , at the time only consisted of himself and Bruce - a younger much fragile Bruce that had no idea how to raise a kid - a kid that was just put into his custody because their parents got too drugged up and k*lled themselves in the living room.

The situation wasn't ideal , Bruce was immature , till learning how to navigate his own feelings , his own anger , his own loss and so were you , a small , fragile thing that didn't quite yet understand why mommy and daddy were being put in a box .

He also remembers that tragic day - the day he lost you - . It was like any ordinary day , he dropped you off at kindergarten and watched you run to your teacher , excitedly showing her a drawing you made. He watches you smile and wave him goodbye as the teacher escorts you to your classroom. Alfred does what he usually does , returns back home and begin his preparations when he receives a call from your teacher . He remembers the dread , the sheer panic , the bone chilling anxiety that consumed him when he picked up that call to hear your teacher utter the words

" two government officials barged in class around recess and they took ( name ) I'm so sorry I tried to stop them - tried to grab the tiny thing but they had her really tight and - and they left "

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader (conner kent edition!)

quick warning: cursing, one (1) mention of a gun

Conner looks stupid.

He thought he looked good when he and Clark first left the house. Sure, he wasn’t in a three piece suit or nothing, but he had the button up and slacks! Though, he probably guesses his leather jacket cancels out the fancy image. God, why did he think this was a good idea? He is not meant for these Wayne galas.

He feels the heat creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears. The second people start looking, he just wishes he could fly away.

Clark was the one who initially asked him to come, but the one who convinced him was nowhere to be found. When he had told you he was thinking about coming, you had been so excited and practically begged him to follow through. He would, of course, but damn he wished you had been the one to ask him here in the first place. He wished you asked to come to these galas in general (you do, just not the way he wants).

Conner remembers the first time(s) he met you (both in and out of the mask). He met you, as in Damian’s twin sister, Bruce Wayne’s daughter, one of Jon’s best friends— that you, first. It was Jon’s birthday and he had invited his two best friends over to celebrate. They were Wayne kids, from what he had told Clark (which Conner had ‘overheard’), so obviously they were too cool for parties. Jon had all the faith in the world that those two would show up, and, to your credit, you did!

Oh, the first time Conner saw you he knew he was done for. Jon had practically ran outside when you and Damian showed up, and he got to see you as you both stepped into the house. You were slightly overdressed, nothing crazy but it was obvious that your definition of ‘party’ was very different to his. Only half an inch shorter than him* and as pretty as the sun, you truly were a sight to see. He could’ve sworn you looked at him a little longer than everybody else. Which, you did, but mostly cause you were trying to remember how familiar he looked (it’s cause you remembered he was Tim’s friend).

Then, he met you again. The all-black-and-red wearing, night-stalking, crime fighting vigilante— that you. He had been slinking around Gotham in the late hours of the night. When the sky went dark, save for the moon and stars, and the real bad guys and boogeymen came out to play. So dark and gloomy, the polar opposite of Metropolis.

He knew someone was in the alley he was walking past— of course he did! But honestly? He was bored out of his mind. So, he just pretended to be oblivious and walk by, waiting to see what would happen.

Conner wishes he could say it was a surprise that he was met with a gun pointed at his head. He can’t recall what exactly the guy said to him, but it was probably a threat about giving him his wallet.

No, he can’t remember that guy. But he does remember you. Now, at the time he didn’t know that it was pretty-girl-from-Jon’s-party you, but he did know that you looked really fucking cool when you took down that guy. A swift kick to disarm him, a punch to his face, and the guy was out! Damn, Batman’s kids really are strong, huh?

You turned to look at him, and he felt just a twinge of disappointment at seeing the helmet covering your face. But then you spoke to him and he almost swooned at your voice. Granted, it was a bit muffled and you may have used a voice synthesizer— but that doesn’t matter! You asked if he was okay! Ugh, you are just so considerate.

A quick warning to stay away from this corner of the city (and honestly every corner of the city), and you were off. He likes to reminisce about that day often. When he got home, he found himself smiling at the ceiling as he thought of you. Both you — little miss Wayne — and you — ass-kicker of the night. Later, when he put the two together, he liked that you guys had at least one thing in common.

Now he was here, at one of your family’s galas, looking for you. He could almost cry when he finally spots you. You look beautiful, as you always do, and you’re talking and smiling with a group of older women. ‘Of course,’ he thinks, ‘your family would probably throw any old man that comes near you out a window.’

But he can’t dwell on that thought for long. Not when he sees you for the first time tonight and feels almost desperate to be near you (what else is new?). So he begins to make his way to you, wiping his now sweaty palms on his pants.

You notice him approaching, because duh! He’s wearing his stupid leather jacket, which definitely makes him stick out like a sore thumbs. You excuse yourself quickly from those women.

“Conner,” He almost feels his breath catch in his throat. He’s seen you in so many outfits but somehow every single one gets him the same way. Maybe it’s not the outfits. “you came.” You say with a smile on your face.

He says your name back, the sound almost coating his throat and makes his tongue feel like lead. “I did,” he gives a smile back, one he hopes to be charming but knows to make him look like a dork. “You look” ‘Say beautiful!’ he urges in his head, “… nice.” ‘Damn it!’ “Like, really nice.”

You let out a breath, one he can recognize as amusement. “Thank you. You dress up well.” You reply, though he catches the look you give his jacket. He feels heat crawling up his neck and painting the tips of his ears. It only gets worse as you brush your hand over his bicep. Brushing off dust or coping a feel, he wouldn’t mind either honestly. Any touch of yours makes him feel like he’s going to faint.

“It, uh,” he leans in a bit, that same dorky grin on his face, “It’s a part of my look.” He thinks you’re the only girl to make him nervous.

Your eyes hold a mixture of amusement and skepticism, a slight furrow of your eyebrows and a widening of your own smile. “Your look, right. Well you’ve certainly found a way to stand out from the crowd. Congratulations, that’s no small feat.”

And now you’re teasing him. God, he really likes you, doesn’t he? “Why, thank you.” He gives a small bow and thanks his super hearing for being able to pick up on the slightest chuckle leaving your lips. “Are there any snacks here?” He asks after standing up. He could just make idle conversation, but it’s more likely that you won’t get stolen away if you’re showing him the ropes.

“They’re called hors d'oeuvres” ‘Yeah, whatever you say, beautiful’ “and yes, we have them,” You take his arm (holy shit you take his arm) and start guiding him wherever.

Alright, Conner admits, maybe he doesn’t look that stupid.

*realistically, given Bruce and Talia’s heights, reader would be about 5’8.5, while Conner is 5’9 canonically. the only reason this is here is bc i want tall girl rep tbh, so just ignore it if you want, it’s not important

merry early christmas (if you celebrate), here’s a gift! this is my first ever attempt at writing an actual ‘story’ (one shot? blurb? idk these terms guys help) so i hope it’s alright.

i kinda want to characterize conner as like a cocky smartass who loses that cockiness around the girl he likes. because! why not! i just think it’s cute

and dw if you don’t want conner as the only love interest, cause i assure you there will be more (blame it on the wayne genes tbh LMAO)

as always, any comments, requests, criticism, anything! is appreciated greatly. happy holidays, bye byeeeee ❤️

[eiralunaire]

🌹 Damian Wayne (Yandere) Headcanons

Damian falls madly in love with you (a girl with curly brown hair, big brown eyes, and a warm personality). At first, his pride prevents him from admitting it, but his obsession secretly grows... until he can no longer contain himself.

1. Silent Observation.

- Damian never shows open interest, but he's always nearby.

- He watches you train in the Batcave (if you're an ally) or follows you around Gotham Academy (if you're classmates).

- He memorizes your schedules, your likes, and even your conversations with others.

- "Tt. It's not like I care... I'm just making sure you're not a burden to others." (Lie. He cares too much about you.)

2. Extreme Jealousy.

- If someone else smiles at you, his fists clench.

- If a villain threatens you, that criminal disappears... and no one ever hears from him again.

- "That idiot Jon Kent shouldn't be anywhere near you. He's not worthy." (Jon just handed you a pencil).

3. Possessive Protection.

- He makes up excuses to "protect" you:

- "Father said I should walk you home." (Batman didn't say anything).

- "This road is dangerous. I'll go with you."(He broke the streetlights himself to justify it).

- If you get hurt, his dark side comes out: "Who was it? Tell me his name. Now."

4. Gifts... or Warnings?

- He leaves black roses in your locker (no one knows how he got into the building).

- If you mention liking a book, it appears signed by "Al Ghul" on your desk the next day.

- "Don't accept gifts from strangers. Only mine are safe."

5. Terrifying (or Romantic?) Confession.

- One day, he corners you in a dark alley (or on the roof of Wayne Manor).

- "You're mine. Always have been. I won't tolerate anyone else touching you."

- If you try to run away, he uses his assassin skills to persuade you... but he'll swear he only wants to "protect" you.

. "Affectionate" Kidnapping

- Damian waits for you in the shadows when you leave your house. Before you can react, a chloroformed cloth covers your mouth.

- You wake up in a luxurious but dead-end room (a League of Shadows hideout? A secret suite in Wayne Tower?).

- You're dressed in an elegant black silk nightgown ("Don't worry, I changed you. It was… educational.").

His Twisted Justification:

"Gotham is too dangerous for you. You'll be safe here… with me. Always with me."

. "Innocent" Touches (That Aren't)

- Damian sits next to you on the bed, "just to make sure you're okay," but his fingers run over your collarbone with sick adoration.

- If you move away, his grip tightens. "Don't run. You know there's no escape."

- He feeds you with his bare hands, murmuring in Arabic things like, "Habibi, you're too precious to let go."

Punishments for Disobedience.

- If you cry or scream, he doesn't release you... but he does silence you with a violent, toothy, possessive kiss.

- "Every tear of yours hurts me... but it won't stop me."

- If you mention another man, his expression darkens. "Do you really think I'll allow anyone else to touch you?"

A "Confession" Between Tears and Blood.

- One night, he enters the room with bloody knuckles (who knows what he did to that boy who smiled at you yesterday?).

- He kneels in front of you, wiping the blood from his hands before caressing your cheek.

- "Look at me. Only at me. Why do you insist on doing this to me? On forcing me to be... this?"

- His words are a mixture of love and guilt, but his actions are irreversible.

. Alternate Ending: Escape or Submission?

- If you try to escape: Damian uses all his assassin skills to find you. When he does, there will be no more gentleness. He drags you back, this time with shackles and promises that "you'll never see the light of day without me."

- If you give in to his obsession: His "sweet" side emerges. He pampers you, protects you, even trains you so "no one can hurt you"… but his love is suffocating. Every smile you give him drives him crazier.

"You're mine. In this life and all the ones to come."

Gotham never prepared you for this…

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Favorite Poses.

. "Against the Mirror"

(His favorite pose: your back pressed against his chest, while he forces you to look at your reflection)

"Look at yourself," he pants in your ear, hands on your hips, marking the bruises. "Look at yourself and tell me it's not perfect... that we're not perfect."

Each thrust pushes you harder against the glass, and you see your mouth open in a stifled moan.

"Like this... now repeat: "Only yours."

. "Astride (But with a Dagger)"

(He sits on the edge of the bed, you on top of him, but with the edge of his dagger grazing your side)

"Do you really think I'd let you control this?" he mocks, his hands guiding you with false sweetness. "Silly..."

He pulls you down onto his lap with a jerk, and you moan.

"No, don't move." I decide when, how, and…—a bite on your shoulder—…how deep.

"On Your Knees (But He's the One Between Your Legs)"

(You on the mattress, he kneels between your legs, but with your thighs on his shoulders as an offering)

"Darling…" he murmurs, worshipping every inch of your center with burning kisses. "Do you know how many nights I dreamed of this?"

When he finally enters you, it's with the reverence of a monk before his goddess.

"Scream… but not for him to stop. So the world knows who makes you feel this way."

"Hands Tied (With His Cloak)"

(You face down, wrists bound with Robin's black cloth, while he immobilizes you by the back of your neck)

"I thought about being gentle," he confesses between gasps, "but you kept challenging me..."

Each thrust drags you against the sheets, and he lowers himself to whisper:

"Say 'more,' and maybe I'll untie you... (It's a lie. He'll never let you go.)

"Oral Possession"

(You on the edge of the table, he on his knees, but with a hand on your throat dictating the rhythm)

"Habibti..." he commands, while his tongue makes you see stars. "You don't want to run away, do you?"

When you try to close your legs, his fingers dig into your thighs.

"Open them. Or I will." (And he will. Gladly.)

[4milly]

our little secret ৻ꪆ — jimmy uso.

+millytober+

*this is the PERFECT gif to describe this story actually. 🙂‍↕️ i wasn’t gonna post this actually, but im tew excited for it. i can’t help myself. so here is a treat<333*

this is HEAVILY influenced by @whatdoeseverybodywant all falls down series . def give a read! <3

warnings: cheating, brothers girlfriend, p in v, pet names, creampie, semi public sex, oral sex; male receiving, fingering, sneaking around, MDNI 18+.

parings: jimmy x black!reader x mentions of jey uso & naomi.

such a promiscuous girl you were; slobbing on the dick of the one person, your boyfriend trusted in the world…as he was in a deep sleep right next to you with his arm resting behind you. jon nearly drew blood from biting his lip so hard, fighting to keep quiet not to wake up jey.

“ahh” he shakily breathed out into the air as the movie played in the background, you taking his dick all the way to your tonsils. silently, thanking god, you didn’t have a gag reflex. “eat that dick up, bae.”

you couldn’t remember how the hell you got here. all you could say was that, jey would murder you if he woke up to seeing his twin brothers dick inside your throat. for the last 2 months, your affair was becoming a lot to handle. you loved naomi, she was someone you trusted; she nearly seen you as a sister. and you loved your man, he gave you the upmost princess treatment. yet, you’d never miss out on a night to come home from a motel pumped full of his twin brothers cum, leaking into your panties, and than letting jey pump you with his.

sounded like a win win situation, right?

sleeping with him under the radar was a mission; sneaking into each others hotel, fucking in janitor closets when you were on the road with jey during his matches, his car, sneaking off to the bathroom to let him fuck his cum into you during dinner with the family. the both of you spent the most time together when jon was injured — naomi and jey both away on the road.

but it wasn’t just adrenaline either, jon was also the sweetheart; sending you expensive bags, jewelry, paying for shopping sprees, or your hair, and nail appointments. sending you texts to brighten your day. he was the perfect man.

your hand reached to fondle his heavy balls, wanting him to reach his nut before this all was over — you’d have to wake up jey to go to bed and jon would have to leave, ending your session.

your jaw began to ache. you gave his balls a firm tug, feeling his dick twitch and jerk against your tongue before he shot his thick ropes of cum into your mouth. his head thrown back against the couch, with his fist tightly covering his mouth taking in his moans. you didn’t miss the subtle shudder of his body as you continued to suck him off, milking him for all he’s worth.

his hand tangled into your hair pulling his saliva covered dick from your mouth, “open.” he mouthed, with a smirk

on command your mouth opened, sticking your tongue out and showing his un-swallowed cum. a sinister grin planted on his face seeing the remainder of your affair on your tongue.

he let a glob of spit fall into your mouth, using 2 fingers to push it to the back of your throat. you closed your mouth and sucked on his fingers the same way you did his dick. pulling them out, he smacked his lips to yours. both of your tongues slipping and sliding around. the kiss did something to him.

he knew it was risky — too much movement could potentially could wake up jey. but the urge to bury himself deep into your pussy was stronger.

“no, no, no.” you whispered, pushing away his hand as he reached for your boy shorts

“he aint gone wake up. c’mere. missed this pussy so much, bae.” you turned to see jey’s head thrown back and loud snores coming from his mouth

“he’s right nex—“

“shhh. c’mere, baby.” he slipped his tongue back into your wet mouth as he yanked your shorts off your legs. not breaking the kiss he pulled you to straddle him “show daddy how bad you want this dick. nothing but a slut fa’ me.” pulling your panties to the side, you adjusted yourself before easing yourself down onto his dick.

you placed your face into the crook of his neck, letting out a small whine at the entry. jon’s teeth latched themselves onto your clothed shoulder, the feeling of your pussy clamping around him surging through his body. he reached over to grab the remote turning the movie up a bit, making sure any sounds the two of you would make could be drowned out.

his hands gripped your plush hips, moving you up and down at a steady pace. jon had to fight hard at the urge to pound into you to end this quickly. he had to take his time; you were right. his brother was literally right next to you, and here he was fucking the love of his life about to flood his cum deep inside her.

“jon. ughn — right there.” you sobbed out into his neck

“right here?” he pulled you closer and swiveled his hips, his pelvic area rubbing against your clit making you let out a moan. jon immediately latching a hand over your mouth to remind you of jey sleeping…just right next to you. both your movements stilled to make sure he didn’t wake up. after the hard snores gave away he was still fast asleep, you started moving up and down on his dick again and bouncing your ass, like a bitch in heat in his lap again.

jon marveled at the scene before his very eyes. watching your loose yourself, eyes rolling backwards, so close to cumming, and fucking yourself on his dick. all he had to do was sit back — and make sure his brother didn’t wake up of course. you pushed his hands away from your mouth, to lean down and flick your tongue inside of his. the taste of him triggered something inside of you. the familiar tightness in your belly returned.

he desperately latched onto your lips and started to suck on them like a starved man. barely reciprocating the affection; the pleasure becoming overwhelming, your mouth was opened wide in complete bliss.

your pussy started to twitch, as his dick massaged your walls, continuously bouncing in his lap, making his dick kiss your cervix, and making note to squeeze when you reached his tip. you were throbbing so much, it began to feel painful. you wanted him to pound into you and fill you with his cum till it couldn’t fit anymore, the idea causing your wetness drenching his dick, making him slide in and out so easy. his reached his hands around, taking a cheek in each hand and squeezing the jiggly mounds.

“i love you so much, bae.” his voice sounding like a distant whisper

part of you felt silly. you loved jon — truthfully. he had a piece of your heart the same way jey did. they both treated you like a princess and both boys loved you. in a perfect world, you’d have them both forever with no consequences.

“i love you, more, baby.” you whimpered “make me cummm, please im s—so close. jon, oh god.”

jon wrapped his lower arms around your waist pulling you flush to his body, before fucking into you. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your pussy fluttered and the tightness in your belly erupted. you creamed all over his thickness, clamping down on him. the move triggering his own release. he bit down onto your shoulder, to keep from roaring out as he sprayed your pussy walls with his cum; continuing to feed you soft pumps making sure to fuck his cum as deep as he could into your pussy.

your eyes glossed over with a look of adoration, as you latched your lips onto his. knowing you couldn’t bask in the after glow long, jon pulled out slowly. his dick flopped against his stomach, covered in a mixture of your cum. your mouth watered at the sight of his dick still hard, laying against his stomach. he let out chuckle; he knew his girl wanted to clean him up right in her mouth again.

jon pulled your panties over your pussy being sure not to let any spill out of you. he grabbed your shorts from the ground and fixed himself back inside his pants, before things could get rilled up again.

“missed yo pretty ass, baby.” he groaned into your ear as he pushed his hands between your legs to cup your clothed pussy, which was currently dripping cum into your panties. “missed you more, daddy.”

you grind against his hand as he placed soft kisses around here and there around your face and neck, “love cummin’ right here…right where i belong at. good ass pussy. i love yo ass so much.”

completely disregarding the fact you just fucked, and you pussy was overly sensitive, he reached his hand into your panties rubbing circles on your clit, the cum in your pussy gushing out and into your panties.

you through your head back onto something hard — jey’s shoulder. his head falling over top of yours, instinctively. you wrapped you hand around jon’s wrist as he worked to wring out another orgasm from you.

you eyes went wide with fear. you tried to keep the tremors working through your body at a minimum, the swollen bundle of nerves spasmed under his fingers. with jey’s head ontop of yours, you couldn’t make any sudden movements. you sucked your kiss swollen bottom lip in your mouth as jon hummed in satisfaction as you worked hard to control yourself.

he leaned forward to press a wet kiss to your lips, as he continued to strum your clit. your pussy jumped under his touch as you came again. overfilled, you pussy pushed the cum out making it drip towards your asshole.

jon gave one last peck to your flushed face as he pulled his fingers out your panties. just in the knick of time, jey began to stir and groan.

“damn, how long this fuckin’ movie is? shit still on?”

attempting to catch your breath, as you pussy convulsed and clenched on air, jon responded, “yea man. whatchall pick this long ass shit fo’? next time yall invite me over we picking a shorter one.”

“you liked the movie, baby?” jey asked giving your shoulder a squeeze

“uh huh. it was great, baby.” you smiled pressing a quick kiss to his lips before standing to excuse yourself to the bathroom

jon licked his lips at your backside, noticing the small trail of cum flowing from your shorts.

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[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 6 ✿:+ Free Fields

1-2-3-4-5-_-7

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: ALL SMUT MDNI, afab reader, virgin reader, P in V sex, oral sex (mutual), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up cuties), creampie, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence. 

A/N: I am posting early this week, giving the girls what they want in one long smut scene. Everyone say thank you Bambi. 

Word Count: 3467 

You had ridden most of the night, but once the daylight began to rise in the sky you felt sleep take you. Sandor tied Lika to Stranger and Sandor held you as he rode. You insisted you didn’t need the sleep but he insisted in the opposite direction. He’d ridden most of the day holding you against his chest, wrapped in his cloak. 

You’d woken up in the forest. The light that peaked through the gaps in the leaves of the trees above you began to shine in your eyes. A cold breeze traveled through them, waking you up even more. You looked to your side through half open eyes. You sat up quickly, realizing you were laying on the soft grass alone. You looked around and saw Sandor was watering the horses, and you were wrapped in his cloak. 

“‘M right here.” He said looking over his shoulder at you then back to the horses. 

You looked around and never felt so alone, there was no one for miles. But again you never felt so free. 

But you couldn’t help but feel somewhat awkward. You’d never been alone with Sandor like this. There was hardly any chance of anyone stumbling upon you, your time was not limited, and now everyone must have known. Known that he took you with him. 

You sat up and held your knees closer to your chest, you noticed how the red gown the Lannisters had made for you was already wearing thin, the fabrics tearing slightly. You ran your fingers over the ruined fabric over your knee. You noticed the pattern of the fabric was lions and roses. As your fingers ran over the lion's tail you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach. 

Tyrion. 

You didn’t love him, that was true. But you were fond of him. And maybe at some point if you were married you could have. He wasn’t like his family, and he tried, he really did try to make your cage a comfortable one. But he did not open that cage for you, he didn’t even seem to want to. Sandor did. 

Sandor looked over his shoulder at you again, noticing you examining the fabric. 

“You can’t wear that out ‘ere.” He said gruffly as he stood and walked towards Stranger. 

You looked confused, 

“Somebody comes along and see’s you in that bloody thing you know what they’ll do?” He asked, as if he was testing you. Wanting to know just how cruel you knew the world could be. 

“Something like those men during the riot did.”

“No.” He huffed while rummaging through the sattles bag “No one’ll ever touch you like that again.” He said pulling out some clothes and walking towards you, “But they’ll know who you are. Where the fuck you came from. Lannisters would find us faster.” 

“You don’t think they’ll know who you are?” You asked as he handed you the clothes, 

“You can change that fuckin’ dress but I can’t change my face now can I?”  He said in a gruff voice that you ignored as you looked at the clothes. There was a white cotton tunic, a thick gray wool sweater that was like a dress on you. a pair of tall black leather boots, a thick black leather belt with a satchel attached to it, and a pair of dark brown trousers that were too tight for you but would have to do. 

“where’d you get this?” You asked looking at the clothing,

“Stole it, while you were sleeping.” You looked up at him with a look of surprise “They didn’t want them, fucking left them outside.”

“Were they on a line?” He didn’t respond to you, just stared at you with guilty eyes, “They were hanging to dry. You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do what I have to, for you.” he whispered that last part, “You’re very kind. That’ll get you killed out here.” His voice was hardened and cold, “Change.” He said walking back to the horses by the river. 

You shrugged off his hardened words. running your fingers through your hair. You realized how dirty the journey had made it. Not to mention the dirt that had gathered on your hands, feet, and knees. 

Your eyes wandered towards the river, the water rushing looked inviting. You looked around, there was no one, at least for the next thirty miles. Then you looked back to sandor who was tending to the horses, he was strangely attentive and fond of the horses. It made you feel warm inside, seeing him be so gentle, after you’ve seen him kill and maim men for little reason. 

You stood, as you did you began to remove your gown, Sandor could hear the fabric of your gown being discarded. He pretended not to notice it as he kept his back turned.

Your gown fell around your feet as you stepped out of it, your underclothes with it. 

You walked towards the river, you dipped your foot in the cold water. It wasn’t like the warm baths in lavender oil that you were used to. But it was what you needed. The water was much deeper than you expected.

You plunged into the cold waters, let yourself stay under the water for a moment. The coldness of the water surrounded you, like it was holding you. It reminded you of the cold winds of the Eyrie. Before you could daydream even more you were pulled out of the water by your arm. 

You gasped for air as your head finally reached the surface. 

“Fuck are you doing, girl?” He barked at you, you pulled your arm away, 

“I was dirty.” You said with a smirk as you were catching your breath.

“Er clean now, out.” He said pulling your arm again but you pulled away and out of his grasp. He huffed, you noticed that he was still covered in blood, it was faded but it was still there. 

“You’re still all bloody.” You said and he tisked at you while he pulled on your arm again. “Stop it.” You said pulling your arm away before swimming closer towards him. “Come here.” You commanded softly. With a gruff sigh he gave in, kneeled towards you. You wiped the blood from his brow, his cheek, then his scarred cheek. When you touched it he winced a little. “Does it hurt?” You whispered, he shook his head. 

“Are you finished?” He rasped, you nodded. He stood and walked back and away from you. “Get out of there before a man comes along.” He rasped once again, as he sat by a small fire he’d built. No doubt with a great deal of courage, he mainly built it for you. 

So you did as he said, you climbed out of the water, you threw on your under clothes to cover your nakedness, though your body was still so wet the clothes became almost transparent. Sandor looked back at you while you rang out your hair. He’d seen you naked before, but this felt all the more intimate. The glamor had worn off, and you were reduced to skin and bone. Not a noble woman but a human. Your cheeks felt red and you looked away, but you felt his gaze linger. 

“Dress yourself.” He commanded in a growl “If a man comes,” 

“There's no one for miles.” You interrupted him, walking towards him, your hair still dripping wet. 

“Stubborn girl.” He growled as he drank water from a flask, pissed that it wasn’t wine. But you continued your steps towards him. You knelt by his side and began to undo the clasps of his armor. He grabbed your hand “Fuck are you doing?” 

“You’re covered in blood, your armor- it’s covered in blood.” You said but he didn’t let go of your hand “We can’t attract attention like you said. You being covered in blood would attract just that.” He let your hand go, and you continued. Undoing each clasp until he was left in his tunic and slacks. 

You sat by the river and washed each piece with your hands, taking small amounts of water and rubbing it onto the silver armor. Making sure not too much water touched it, you didn’t want to ruin the material. 

Sandor watched you as the sun began to set, it made him think about what he offered you in your room the night of the battle of Blackwater. He’d build you a home. And he would. He thought of you washing clothes in a river like what you were doing now. He thought of sharing a home with you, not a grand one like the Eyrie but a small home made of wood and stone. He thought for a moment of you carrying his babe. But he was not one for chivalry, tradition, or ceremonies. But he wasn’t one for love either but here he was. 

You walked back with his armor, the fire illuminated his face handsomely, you tried to put it back on him but he took it and placed it on the ground. His eyes softened strangely, but his face was still in that scowl he always had. He placed his hands on your hips and his eyes ran over your body. 

“If another man saw what I am looking at right now, I would kill him.” He grumbled. 

“How many men have you killed?” 

“Killed my first man when I was twelve. I lost count since then.” His voice was cold, and his eyes reached yours searching for any ounce of fear. Finding none. “I don’t frighten you?” He barked as if he was trying to frighten you, trying to get you to come to your senses. 

“Never.” You spoke softly, your soft words always gentled the rage within him. He felt so much for you he almost resented you for it.

He grabbed you by your jaw, “Have you ever made a man feel this way before?” He growled, 

“I don’t know.” You said, still not scared of him, you knew he’d never harm you. 

“I know you have. How could any man not? I know that Imp, he wanted you.” his voice was so low it rumbled in his chest. 

“I never felt love for him, nor lust.” You spoke softly, his grip on you loosened. 

“What of that pretty boy,” 

“Loras?”

“Aye.”

You let out a small giggle at the thought of Sandor being truly jealous of Loras, a man who couldn't love a woman. “Rumors of Loras are true. He did not like the touch of a woman.” 

“He was a cock sucker?”

“Stop that.”

“What, you love him do you?” His grip tightened once again but still not hurting you.

“Not the kind of love you mean.” 

“You said you promised someone you love to take the Eyrie. Who?” He growled, you knew that this was the only way he’d be able to tell you he loved you. By interrogating you on who you loved.

“My mother.” His grip loosened completely, “And my father.” His hand began to rest on your neck, “I promised my mother on her child bed, to keep her house safe, and her son safe. I failed at one I can’t fail both.” 

“Oaths and promises are for cunts.” 

“You’ve sworn a promise to me.” 

“Aye.” He said, his eyes scanning down your body once more. 

“What are you looking at?” 

“The fuck do you think I’m looking at.” He rasped as you noticed his hooded eyes lingering on your breasts, hardly covered by your soaking wet under clothes. You pulled the top half of your under clothes over your head. His eyes snapped to yours.  

“You’ve never been fucked by a man?” He rasped, he knew you hadn’t, he knew you’d already told him this, but he needed to be sure. You shook your head. “Never had a man's fingers in your cunt?” You shook your head again, “Never had a man’s tongue in your cunt?” He rasped, 

“Only yours,” You whispered. Those words only encourage his throbbing cock.

“You sure you want this?” He grumbled, his large rough hands going to your breasts. They were rough and almost hurt by how course they were. They were so large that they engulfed your breast completely. Your mind then turned back from that to the question he asked, 

“I am.” Your words are soft and sweet. 

“Lay back,” His voice dropped and rumbled in his chest, it made you clench your thighs together. You laid back as he asked you. You laid back on the green soft grass. As you did he pulled his tunic off and over his head. He loomed over you, his hands ran from your jaw, to your sternum, to your stomach, to your pelvis. He toyed with the fabric of your under clothes covering your sex. 

“You can’t take it back.” He rasped. You nodded, and you pulled your under clothes down and over your knees, he took them off from there. 

He positioned himself between your legs, and leaned down. He kissed you deeply. Sucking on your lips as if they tasted of wine. His rough hands roamed your body, they were so rough they almost scratched at your skin. You moaned into his mouth as his hand found its way to your cunt. 

His large middle finger began to play with your clit. His finger circled your clit a few times then teased your entrance, just a little, adding some pressure then going back to your clit. Your sweet moans only encourage his throbbing bulge in his trousers. 

Your hand gripped a chunk of his hair at the back of his head, deepening your kiss. Your other hand roamed his back, littered with scars. 

He kissed down from your jaw, to your neck, to your collar bones, your chest, breasts, nipples, stomach. He sucked and bit at your side making you jump a little and mewl. He continued on and kissed your pelvic mound. 

He lifted your legs up and over his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs and biting them gently. The feel of his beard scratched at your thighs. Your back arched at the feeling. 

Finally, replacing his fingers with his tongue. He licked at your sensitive clit, sucking on it, and biting on it lightly, enough to make you moan his name, which in turn made him moan into your cunt. The vibration of it made the sensation all the more pleasurable. 

At this point you were soaking wet, you heard lude sounds from him, a mix of growls and slurping. 

You gripped a handful of his hair again scratching at his scalp. 

His fingers returned to your cunts entrance, not fully entering it, just applied pressure teasing you horribly. 

He kissed your swollen clit and came up for air, He looked at your cunt, empty but clenching around nothing at all. It drove him mad, as he looked up at you, you looked down at him. “I’ll be gentle, but it’ll hurt.” He said with a low raspy voice. 

You nodded, “Please,” you whined. 

He kissed your inner thigh as his thick ring finger began to enter you. Your back arched and you let out a groan as you threw your head back. It burned a little, and the pressure was uncomfortable, and yet felt so good. His finger continued inside of you, and his eyes watched you making sure you didn’t want it to stop. Then you felt him hit something, it made you wince. He stopped, 

“Take a deep breath, little bird.” He said oddly gently. He sucked on your clit as he continued and you felt a snap inside of you, it hurt, 

“Nmph!” You groaned, let out a sharp breath. 

“It’s alright now, it’ll feel better now.” He said moaning into your cunt. 

And he was right, the pain and the burn stopped, and was replaced by pleasure. You moaned as his finger pumped in you over and over again. He added another finger as he sucked on your breasts. You held his head and kissed the top of it whilst he did so. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and sat up on his knees. You sat up as well. 

Your eyes looked at his fingers, covered in your slick mixed with blood. Your cheeks lit up red with embarrassment. 

“It’s alright, little bird. I fuckin' love it, you've got no fucking idea how long I've wanted to do this to ye.” He comforted you, you weren’t used to it. You tried to ignore your embarrassment and focus on what you wanted. You started to undo his trousers, he didn’t stop you this time. You pulled his trousers down with some resistance from his large cock. Once you got them down his cock bounced up, standing straight. You looked up at him waiting for any resistance, met with none once again. 

You took his cock in your hand, it made your hand look so small in comparison. He let out a deep groan, which only encouraged you more. You kissed the side of his cock, and kissed your way to the tip. You licked at the precum that was seeping from his tip. 

It was salty and bitter but you couldn’t get enough. However, that was his last straw. He pushed you back onto the soft grass and pulled your legs around his waist. He kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue as you tasted yourself on his. 

He lined himself up with your soft, warm, and soaking wet entrance. He slowly pushed his way inside of you. You both let out a loud moan, but you tried to cover your mouth, not wanting to risk others in these forests hearing you. Sandor wouldn’t have that though. He grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from your mouth, 

“Don’t you fucking dare. I want to hear all of it.” He growled at you, “I’ve waited too long to hear it.”

“What if someone hears?” You tried to say without moaning but failing miserably 

“I’ll strangle them with their own guts.” He said like an angry dog, “I’m the only one who can see you like this, hear you like this.” 

He pushed further and further into you until he hit your spongy cervix, making you almost scream out in pleasure. Sandor gritted his teeth and he shouted “Gods!... (Y/N), you feel so fucking good!” as he slammed his lips onto yours kissing you with a hunger you’d never known. He let himself warm inside you for a moment, letting you get used to the stretch. 

All the things you’d heard about sex finally made sense. The pleasure of it, and the pain of it. But you never knew how fulfilling it could feel. How the satisfaction would feel within you. You hadn’t even cum yet but you were a woman happy nonetheless. 

He began to move again, in and out of you pumping. You gripped the grass at the sides of your head. As he pumped in you your breasts bounced, his eyes couldn’t stop but admire your body. Every inch of it unique to you and you alone. All those whores he paid who looked like you weren’t like this. They didn’t feel as good as you did, they didn’t fit around him the way you did. 

“I’m not ‘urting you am I?” He asked through gritted teeth, you shook your head as you moaned loudly, “Good.” He said as he pumped harder and faster. He leaned down more and ravaged your breasts, you knew there would be marks on them tomorrow. His hands gripped at your hips so tightly you knew there would be marks there as well. 

“Take it, take it, take it, take it-” He grumbled into your neck over and over again. 

You felt the pressure in your belly tighten, you knew you were going to cum. “I feel ya’ tightening around my cock, do it, cum around my cock.” He said into your ear as he nibbled at your lobe, then moving to bite at your jaw. 

“Fuck!” You moaned loudly, “Sandor!” You yelped as you felt yourself cumming all over him. 

His arm wrapped around your waist tightly pulling you up and close to this chest. While his other hand held your jaw in place, having you look him in the eyes. 

“Cum in me,” You pleaded breathlessly, his eyes widened, he couldn’t believe that you’d ever want him to do such a thing. It pushed him over the edge and he didn’t have time to question if it was truly what you wanted as he melted into you.

"(Y/N)!" He shouted as you felt the hot ribbons of cum filling you deep inside of you. His grunts were like war screams, as if he were impaling a man with a sword. In a way he was. It out of nowhere made you cum again, pushing some of his cum out of your cunt, overflowing around his cock still in you. 

As he collapsed beside you, and you both laid there naked covered in sweat in the cold air. You tried to catch your breath. 

“(Y/N)” He said in a husky growl you could hear the rumble of his tone, you turned to look at him. “I would die for you.” 

NOTE:

Hi girlies. I made this with the intention of making it just one scene in a multiple scene chapter but it was already so long and we have a lot more to get to so enjoy this little freebie. 

Also I am working on a new series, might take a min tho so I am not going to announce who it is about but it is also GOT related.

Also also double points for anyone who caught the Laufey lyrics

My Beloveds: If you want to be added to the tag list comment telling me so!

@dontfollowjuststuff @helpmeescapethisreality @merfic

[soapcan18]

I absolutely LOVE Wiggly’s characterization in NPMD. He’s in the show for less than ten minutes and he fuckin STEALS it.

Obviously he’s terrifying in Black Friday, that’s HIS show, but throughout the entire show he keeps up the cutesy persona to trick the characters, occasionally saying something rlly fucked up but still in that register (“RIGHTTT THE FUUUUCK UPPP” and “DEEECKKK THE HALLSS WITH UR GUTSY WUTSIES”).

But in NPMD, he’s a bit different and it’s INTENTIONAL. During The Summoning, he’s still using cutesy-speak, but his voice is a bit deeper as he’s not presenting as an innocent plushie anymore, he’s asserting his power over the teens and toying with them. When he gets excited, he loses the act and yells “WHATEVER WE WANT???” is a deeper tone. When he gets pissed, him and the rest of the LIB scream “WE DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR PHONE!” Finally, at the end of The Summoning, he’s completely dropped the act: “Pay the price, or FUCK OFF.” He doesn’t care if the teens go through with the deal or not, and because he’s not actively being worshipped by them or exploiting them like in Black Friday, he doesn’t bother with the niceties or particularly care. Overall, he just seems very done with them by the end of the song (bro did NOT wanna be summoned).

THEN, the final time we hear him, he grabs hold of Max and shows himself. His voice is the deepest it’s EVER been, and there’s NO cutesy-speak to be found except the teasing “Maxie” nickname. He’s ELATED to have another soul, and fully yells: “You’re in my world now, BITCH.” THIS is the true Wiggly—not masking his intent with friendliness, not playing nice to manipulate someone, not even toying with them, just FULL sadistic pleasure to have another soul to claim. And that’s SUCH an epic high note to end the character on.

Hats off to Jon for being to portray such a horrifying, larger-than-life character with such depth and depravity, not to mention his INCREDIBLE voice work and physical acting. I didn’t even note Wiggly’s terrifying laugh yet; I fuckin LOVE it and you can hear it in NPMD if you pay attention.

In summary, Wiggly is the best. Thank you.

[glitterquadricorn]

spilled tea and hot gossip - f1 grid

+summary: there's nothing she loves more than spilled tea and hot gossip. +pairing: f1 grid x female!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions pregnancy, gossip.

a/n: this is just an idea that popped into my head.

I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

Any drama, gossip, or tea that is spilled on a formula one paddock, you best believe she's going to know about it because she's got eyes and ears everywhere. Like for example, the whole situation with Oscar, Daniel and Mclaren. Or how Fernando signed with Aston Martin and didn't tell anyone much less Alpine. Pierre wonders where, or who she's getting this information from, but she'd never reveal her source for they wish to remain anonymous.

"Thanks so much for helping, y/n. You've made our job a lot easier," Jon, a member of her pit crew, smiled and tapped her shoulder.

"I'm always happy to help!" she said. " Do you guys need anything else? If not, I'm going to head out."

"We should be all good to go. Again, thanks for the help."

"You guys have a good day!" she left out the back of the garage and walked down a relatively empty paddock with the exception of other teams' staff here and there.

She was almost at the entrance when from the corner of her eye; she spotted a man wearing a black and red Haas shirt. Whoever he was talking to she didn't know, and it wasn't her business. But what he told to said person on the phone shocked her.

"I messed up, man. I shouldn't have even slept with her," the man paused, running his hand down his face. "Oh, the girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. But that's not even the worst part of it. She's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

The sound that came out of her mouth wasn't human, and she quickly had to pretend she saw something shocking on her phone because the man looked in her direction. Man, she couldn't wait to tell the boys.

The following day after scanning her id, she strutted down the paddock like a woman on a mission.

Spotting the dutchman, who conveniently was standing with Daniel, Charles and Pierre outside the redbull garage, she excitedly walked right over. "You'll never guess what I heard yesterday."

"Judging by your excitement, I assume it's something juicy." Pierre replied. Just by the excitement alone, he knew that whatever she was about to say was going to be good.

"Yesterday, I stayed back after qualifying to help my pit crew clean up and put things away. When I was done, I left and walked down a relatively empty paddock, but stopped when I overheard somebody from Haas talking on the phone. I don't know who he was talking to, because it's not relevant, but what is, is what he told them."

"Get to the point, y/n."

"I was getting there, Max," she paused. "He told them he slept with a girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. That alone is pretty juicy, but what he followed it up with had my jaw on the floor. And he followed it up with and she's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

Gasps leave their mouth as their jaws drop just like hers did from the day before. Behind Charles, her pr manager, Tracy, waved her over.

"Enjoy the tea, boys." she smirked, patted Charles on the shoulder as she walked away.

---

I know Visa Cash App RB team name isn't Alpha Tauri anymore, but I hate the name Visa Cash App RB with a passion.

tagging:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyber @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119

[urhoneycombwitch]

Hi, cutie 😘 Slutty metalhead for your thoughts?

oh SO many thoughts but u know the main one rn is… nostalgia 😭 look at that fresh faced baby boy. made me think of revisiting that spot in your later years with Eddie… back in town for a wedding, mayhaps…? I love u sooooo much sarah!!! muah muah muah 

(cw: drug & alcohol mention, R wears heels+ a dress and has breasts, fade-to-black sex SOZ mdni +18 as always!!)

Eddie looks so good in a tux. Except right now, he’s yanking at the loop of his tie like it’s choking him (it isn’t, he’s being dramatic), and shedding the confines of his smart black tailcoat into a messy pile in the back of the van (on loan from Uncle Wayne for the duration of your visit, the engine still running miraculously smooth after all these years).

Nancy and Jon aren’t getting married until tomorrow so now that the rehearsal dinner is done with, everyone is under strict instructions to rest up for the big day- but based off the gleam in Eddie’s eye and the corners he’s taking at light speed, you’re guessing the guest bed at the trailer isn’t the main destination right now.

You get comfy, too, kicking off your heels, tucking your feet up underneath the silk of your dress train, giggling as Eddie talks a mile a minute. It feels like old times; the passenger window gets rolled down, cool spring night air of Hawkins breathing life back into the both of you. 

It was stuffy, hot, and crowded in the main hall, a raucous ball of light and music and hugs over tables loaded with food; you both went delirious with happiness at seeing everyone in one room again.

Even so, the stark contrast of the still, dark forest is a relief. Eddie parks at the edge of trees just outside Hawkins High, pools of light from the parking lot swallowed by the thick perimeter of sycamores. 

You’ve never been on this side of the forest before- the two of you were friends, in highschool, but Eddie was a deft hand at keeping you away from his less savory dealings back in the day. 

Now, he takes your hand, confident and sure-footed, your bare feet pressing into the soft underbrush as you follow close behind. 

After a minute, your eyes adjust- at dizzying heights, the trees split apart to reveal the sky, twinkling pinpricks of stars lighting your path to the centre of the woods. Eddie’s laughing while he recounts the time an old gym teacher caught him out here, and points out the exact tree he had to scramble up to get away. 

Your fingers are warm, weaved in between his, and it’s either the champagne or the love that makes you tipsy, leaning into the twine of arms, resting your forehead against his shoulder- “Wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Nah.” Eddie kisses the crown of your head, strokes his thumb over your knuckles as the picnic table appears into view. “Glad you stayed out of trouble and let me be the one to get into it.”

The wood table is decidedly much older than in its heyday as a pharmacy counter, but in good enough condition to hold your weight as you sit right on top, leaning back into your hands- “Got into plenty of trouble, I was just a bit better at hiding it, s’all.”

“That right?” Eddie comes to stand between the v of your spread legs, hem of your dress climbing along with his hands that settle on either side of your bare thighs. In the moonlight, the sleek black of his hair glows, backlit in white like a halo.

He’s grinning. You are, too, no sense in playing coy- but you’ve got another card to play, before the chase is up. 

“Actually, I kind of brought you out here for something.” You sit up, pressing the length of your body against his, breasts to chest, nose notching to the side of his own; Eddie sucks in a painfully sharp breath. 

When your leg hooks at his hip, pelvis pulling flush with yours, his grip tightens.

You kiss your way up the column of his neck, then whisper, “I was kinda hoping I could buy some weed off you.”

“I- whuh?” Not quite words, Eddie talks around a tongue that’s gone limp; his head swims from the feeling of your teeth behind his ear. “You wanna… I don’t. I won’t charge you.”

You tsk, pulling away just far enough to give a reproachful look- “Come on, did you give up the goods this easy for every pretty girl who asked?”

“Nope. Just for you.” An easy and honest answer. Eddie slots himself further into the warmth of your body, the growing bulge in his slacks making contact with the strip of wet fabric between your thighs; you moan into his kiss, tongues a greedy slide of want in the others’ mouth.

Trying to keep up some semblance of the roleplay, you gasp out- “You didn’t even… let me offer to pay- oh, fuck, there- with an alternative method…”

Eddie gets a hand past the cup of your bra, massaging the fat and catching your nipple in a twist between thumb and forefinger. Your spine arches into the touch, giving Eddie’s other hand ample room to press against your low back, keeping you rocking forward in a slow grind.

“Let me guess.” His breath is a ragged heat at the side of your neck. “Was sex on the table?”

“Exactly.” 

With a tug to his roots, Eddie follows you down flat against the creaking wood, laughing at your quick wit, relaxing into your body- there’s nothing scary about these woods anymore. 

[handsomesnoog]

A thought about the lords in black:

People have pointed out that In the summoning they take the forms of people that grace, pete, and steph care about (Jon plays wiggly and Richie, Kim plays nibbly and karen, corey plays pokey and solomon, etc.) but I haven’t heard anyone mention,

Where did they get those bodies?

I mean sure they could shapeshift but it’s not like they haven’t possessed people before.

Imagine Richie and Ruth’s cold corpses sprouting green tentacles and purple eyes and escaping from the morgue they were placed in. Richies skin turned slightly green and Ruths mouth sealed closed to make room for more eyes

Imagine Solomon’s fresh body oozing blue liquid from his mouth and eyes that mixes with his blood as he rises from the ground emitting a high, powerful sound.

Imagine mark and Karen Chasity sitting in their living room when all of a sudden sharp goat horns protrude from mark’s head causing his skull to crack, while Karen begins coughing up teeth and fur and pig blood, neither of them knowing what’s going on or why it’s happening.

Imagine all of them materializing in the gym with bloody clothes, their fatal blows visible on their bodies. Grace sees the bone fragments coming from her father’s head, pete notices that when wiggly speaks water spurts out from his lungs, steph sees the fracture on the back of pokeys skull.

should I get an ao3 account.

[justiceiscalling]

i’m gonna try to keep this one short but, genuinely, why is damian going to hell never mentioned? like jason’s death is mentioned 24/7 and damian’s death is basically never even referenced (to my knowledge). did his death get retconned?

and even then—why don’t fics mention it? damian went to hell! literal hell! that’s prime angst material right there. i don’t understand people sometimes. everyone ignores the important aspects of jason and damian’s deaths, they only take note that they died. like the fic ideas i have for this is limitless.

catholic jason todd dies and sees nothing. no heaven, no hell. no jesus, no devil. he comes back brain damaged, then fucked up in the head, and when he finally gets his feet underneath him, he has a crisis of faith. then damian wayne fucking dies, comes back a year later (double it and give it to the next ts). bonding ensues.

“You trashed it.” Tim notes, looking down at the shirt that’s covered with paint, grime, and the distinct scent of the sewer.

Duke looks over at the shirt and scrunches his nose, glancing between it and Damian. “Just throw it in his closet. Maybe he won’t notice.”

Tim gives Duke a look. “It reeks of the sewer. Dicks not that messy.”

Damian frowns at the shirt. His trip through Gothams sewers hadn’t been intentional, it was a detour he had to make when an assassin cornered him. Unfortunately, at the time he was wearing Dicks blue ‘Nightwing’ shirt (yes he has his own merch. Yes it is because he is full of himself).

A low whistle draws Damian’s attention away from the shirt. He looks up and meets Jason’s eyes. His hair has grown out since Damian last saw him two weeks ago. If he refused to go to the barber then he should at least let Alfred cut it, do the entire world a favor. “Oh, Dicks going to kill you.”

“I hope not,” Damian says absentmindedly, putting the shirt down. Lest he start smelling like the sewer again. It took four hours to get the scent out of his hair, an additional two to get it off his body. “I’m not dressed properly.”

It’s meant to be a joke. Him and Jon aren’t exactly ‘working on them’ but he has been a test dummy for a few. Damian came to realize Jon laughed at everything, no matter if it was funny or not. The trio in front of him laugh as if it’s funny—Damian is about to dedicate an entire thirty seconds to basking in glory at the victory of making three out of four of his brothers laugh—but it’s when Tim speaks that Damian realizes it was interpreted wrong.

"What, you too cool to die in a hoodie and sweats?" He gestures to Damians outfit, a Gotham Academy hoodie paired with its matching Gotham Academy sweats. Underneath the black hoodie, is a black long sleeve shirt that had the Gotham Academy symbol on the sleeve.

Duke straightens up to get his own joke out. "Obviously.” He says with complete seriousness. “He has to die wearing Prada. Keep up, Tim.” He looks over at Jason, “Get a load of this guy.”

Jason snorts in response. “Gotta die in style. Dying in uniform is so outdated.” That earns a loud laugh from Duke, the only person who has yet to tire of Jason’s ‘I died’ jokes.

“Imbeciles.” Damian rolls his eyes, his tanned cheeks were probably coated in pink dye to embarrassment. He would never imply he had to die in a certain outfit if it wasn’t half-true. “That is not what I meant.”

“Please do explain, O-Wise one.”

Damian clicks his tongue at Dukes nickname but does as asked. “When I died before,” He doesn’t miss the way Tim and Jason stiffen at the mention. Duke just kind of pauses. “It was hot. You cannot exactly ditch clothes in hell.”

He’s met with silence. Well, he didn’t expect to be met with laughs.

Jokes aren’t funny after you explain the joke. Damian busies himself with folding the shirt he had previously let go of, the one that smelled of the sewer. “You…” Tim pauses, tilts his head, then continues. “What?”

“You broke Tim.” Duke comments, though he doesn’t seem fully there either.

“I don’t understand.” Damian furrows his brows look from Duke to Tim. Finally, he decides to look over at Jason.

Jason doesn’t seem tense, the only sign he was was the hand he had clenched together in a fist, which he quickly got rid of. In reality, it’s his face that gives him away. Jason’s always been emotional, you could read his emotions far too easy off his face if you were trained to do so. It’s a good thing he wears a helmet. “Hell. You went to hell.”

“Yes.” Damian says, because, was it ever a secret? Did he forget to mention that? He didn’t exactly have to write a mission report on his death. “I assume you did not.” His voice is stiff. Hell isn’t his favorite topic.

“No. I didn’t.” Jason confirms.

“How was Heaven?” His tone is slightly bitter, he can’t help it. Even though he knows Jason was good pre-death. Didnt lay a finger on a soul, and when he did, they were deserving of it and walked away breathing just fine.

“Wouldn’t know.” Jason shrugs. “Wasn’t important enough to get either.” He explains.

and yk bonding brother stuff. the potential is just sitting there untouched. like if someone doesn’t use it ill tweak out. feel free to rec fics, im clearly in need. only crossover fics id enjoy are marvel/mcu and criminal minds.

use this for an idea if you want, give credit obv.

edit: i've been informed that jason, in some iterations, did go to heaven but just doesn't remember it. so...even better ngl.

crisis of faith, thinking there's no heaven and hell, then boom bro finds out he actually did go to heaven. also the little writing bit i did was made in like twenty minutes at like 3 am, so sorry for it being shit. if i do ever get a great incredible idea for a fic on that, ill let yall know.

[writerbugg]

Good Luck

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

I made this a bit ago so have mercy :,)

Wattpad

Summary : Y/n, who recently taken an interest in the DC universe, finds themself in that very universe after a little roadkill accident.

Prologue, Chapter # 1 (you are here), Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Never feel guilty for starting again. - Rupi Kaur

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It had been a few hours since Y/n had awoken, she felt like she was in shock. She could remember walking back to her dorm from the public library. She had picked a random comic from the comic section, deciding to venture from her usual picks.

She could remember the bright headlights barreling towards her, the pain, her breath slowly slipping from her...

Y/n doesn't know is she can look at a truck the same way again.

"What do you think could've caused this Lois? She was completely fine yesterday." A man with inky black hair and deep blue eyes paced around the kitchen, his brows furrowed in frustration.

The woman next to him, Louis, placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort her husband. "I don't know Clark, it's strange."

Y/n sucks in a breath, she was in the DC universe.

──●◎●──

'...I didn't even get to finish playing through Fnaf.' Y/n thought as she watched her 'parents' talk. Sighing, Y/n recounted her situation, she could remember her past life perfectly, but she drew a blank when she tried to remember anything from this life.

In all honesty Y/n was on the verge of a panic attack, still coming to grips with the fact she died. Not only that, but out of all the universes to be reincarnated in, Y/n was reborn into one of the most dangerous universes out there. Why couldn't she just be reincarnated in a chick flick?

Louis had her arm around Y/n, holding her close and trying to comfort her. She was saying something to Y/n, though nothing really registered.

Justifiably, Y/n didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Clark sat down in front of you, gently taking your hands in his hands. "Y/n, can you tell us what could have happened? Anything at all?" Y/n shakes her head no. She chose not to mention her past life, something in her gut told her to keep it to herself.

Clark sighed disappointedly, "I guess I'll have to call Bruce." He seemed grimace when he mentioned Bruce's name.

That's never a good sign.

──●◎●──

"What do you mean 'No' Bruce!?" Clark yelled at the billionaire, who was trying to calm down and reason with the hero.

"Clark, I just think you're going a little overboard, let me take her back to Gotham. I can use my computers and resources that are stored in the bat cave to figure out what's wrong." Bruce explained. "We don't need to summon the Justice League for this." Bruce's brow furrowed at the stubbornness of the alien.

Off to the side Y/n watched the interaction with morbid curiosity. Though you agreed that calling up the Justice League was a bit... over the top. It was still strange how Bruce seems reluctant to interact with the Justice League in general.

Wonder why that is.

Clark runs a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. "Why would I let my daughter go to Gotham, for all I know, this is some excuse to experiment on her kryptonian side. Find out more weaknesses," he all but snarled, "or get her killed, just like Jason!"

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't trust her with you, not after..." He shakes his head, turning away from Bruce.

Louis had left your side to talk with Clark, allowing Jon to take her place.

There's some silence, before Jon decides to speak. "...I think you should go." He says. Y/n tilts her head towards him, brow raised. "I gave a friend there, Damien." Jon begins, "he's told me all about Bruce, I think they can help you."

Jon blushes a bit, "Plus, Damien is the most trustworthy guy I know, if you ever need help, he'll be there."

Footsteps approach you both from behind, turning to look, you both see an irritated Clark approaching you. "Well, she doesn't have a choice. She isn't going." He huffed.

"..."

"Clark, do you want her to get the best treatment or not?" Surprisingly, Lois spoke up this time. Sighing, she took Clark's hand.

"Bruce won't betray our trust, plus she'll be in one of the most protected places in Gotham, getting the best treatment she could ever get. I think we should let Bruce take her until we figure out what, or... who caused this."

──●◎●──

Y/n and Bruce sit in silence.

──●◎●──

Chapter 2

[saintbleeding]

[ID: A four page comic of Jon Sims, Sam Khalid, Celia Ripley, and Martin Blackwood, set loosely in the Magnus Protocol universe. Jon is a tall, thin, brown-skinned man, wearing business-casual clothes, an ace ring, gold earrings, and glasses, with noticeably unscarred skin and only minor greying in his chin length curly hair. Sam is shorter and fat, wearing a blue business shirt and glasses. He has brown skin and short, black, curly hair. Celia is a tall, fat woman wearing casual clothing and an evil-eye pendant, with straight hair in a bob with bleached ends and light brown skin. Martin is a short, fat, white man with wavy ginger hair, wearing a green three piece suit and glasses.

Page one: Jon sits at a cafe table, hands laced together, wearing business-casual clothes, an ace ring, gold earrings, and glasses, with noticeably unscarred skin. He says “Well, I'm sorry it hasn't been more instructive." We see Sam and Celia sitting side-by-side, with Sam's arm casually around Celia's shoulders. Celia replies "It's fine!" and Sam adds "Yeah. Georgie mentioned your experience was a long time ago." Jon stands up and continues "Mm. Good luck, regardless. With your--research." Sam says "Ah, thanks! We haven't exhausted [caps] every [end caps] avenue yet." Celia adds "Yeah! We've even got someone else coming to chat today. Oh, actually--" she pauses and stands up, lifting a hand in greeting, and says "Hi Martin!"

Page two: Jon looks quizzically offscreen as Celia turns back towards Sam. Sam's expression is shocked as he says "You arranged the interviews with the Chester guy *and* the Norris guy on the same day?" and Celia replies "I thought it might be fun." We cut to Martin, who is walking gloomily down the street with his hands in his pockets. He hears Celia's greeting, looks up, and begins to smile. A moment later, Jon and Martin stand facing one another, beaming with recognition.

Page three: Jon and Martin exchange sheepish "hi"s, and Sam--still perturbed--watches on and asks "Do they, like, know each other?" to which Celia replies "Not exactly :3c"

Page four: The Protocol-universe Jon and Martin stand more closely to one another, and in the sudden, heavy glitch effect surrounding them, their season-five Archives-universe counterparts are faintly visible, standing in the same positions. Archives-Martin has darker, greying hair and a beard, with more pallid skin, and Archives-Jon has patchy, white hair, a beard, and numerous scars across his body. Both of them wear filthy, practical clothing. End ID.]

ok listen i straight up started this comic after magp episode 8 aired!!! your heart occurrence and bicycle overdose mean NOTHING to me

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Heyyyy, my gremlins of trees and seas! I’m back with something new for you now let’s go

🌊🪼Ancient Of The Sea Danny & Storm Dani and hurricane Dan🌊🪼

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

=====================================

Ok so the GIW ‘took care’ of the Fentons, Sam, Tucker and kidnapped Danny with Dani and Dan fast forward a few weeks Dani and Dan are injured badly enough that they go back into their cores but before the GIW could get the cores Danny grabs them and puts them into his body and flys though the portal and destroys it as he does so

And now Danny kinda just wandering around looking for a place to heal up and than he finds something he didn’t even think he had as a half-ghost. A Lair, Vlad mentioned it a few times saying that it was another thing that brought him and Danny closer together but Danny wasn’t really listening to him ( when does he ever ) but as he walks in ( well incubating Dani who has been renamed by Danny to dawn and Dan who has been renamed to Dusk )

He is met with the smell of the sea and the sounds of waves crashing against rocks and some rock pillers out further in the sea and the sound of the waves hitting the sand which is black {like from one of the black sand beaches they look neat} as Danny walk onto the sand he looks around that his Lair which was something Danny thought he would ever be able to say but he is quickly brought back to where he is when he sees a large black marble castle that is a bit overgrown on the outside

Ok so a few weeks later Dannys settled into the castle and his Lair the castle even has a room next to his ( which is the master bedroom ) for when the baby’s are ready but anyway it turns out that he is the new Ancient Of The Sea so that’s a thing now and the seas have all the ghosts of aquatic animals which is really interesting and now he apparently gives off nymph and ethereal vibes….And I don’t really have anything more to add on this part for now but I will add more later

=====================================

Ok now onto the DC part ok so this could go into two very different story’s regarding which plot you choose 

The FIRST way: So the JL need help with a new big bad ( could be Aliens or supernatural type stuff ) and need the Ancients power to help them so they have to convince them to help so they split off into teams and Tim’s team ( with Jon and Damian just cause ) and they have to convince The Ancient Of The Sea so they go to what appears to be a cave entrance that has small pounds around it that looks like an sea cave but it is the entrance to Danny’s lair and as they walk in they are hit with the smell of the sea and a few minutes of trying to find the Ancient they find them sitting on one of the rock mountains surrounding the black sand beach and that when Jon makes a very loud sound that gets the Ancients attention fast so they all walk over to them and they start trying to convince them to help and this is basically the reaction

The Team: trying to convince him and is doing what they can to keep his attention

Danny: who was going to help them the moment they said they needed help

And Danny just lets them go on without interrupting them and when their done he just nods and says “ I will help you” and the sigh of relief they all let out almost made him laugh

The SECOND way: The Zone holds a ball every 100,000 years and to be invited is an honor and the JL gets invited and any sidekicks they decide to bring with them and JLD have to explain how important this is and how they can NOT screw this up or their world is done for so they have a lot of pressure to not cause any problems whatsoever and it last for three days and on the first day Damian is walking down a hall until he comes across what looks like an Sea cave entrance and goes in and as he walk around he sees a beautiful person who looks around his age and goes up to them and a few hours later they become friends Damien even got to pet an shark who came up close and Damian comes back the second day two and on the third day ( the day of the ball ) Damien siblings notice the change in behavior and follow him and they go through the entrance after him and see him and Danny talking

And that’s all for this

=====================================

Now on to the details

Here’s what I’m thinking for Danny

Mixed with this

This is what I’m thinking for his outfit and for his hair

And just because here is a head ornament that I’m thinking he wears

Or at least something close to this

=====================================

And that’s it! Sorry if it’s a bit weird but I hope you gremlins like it byeeeee