#not as embarrassing as the last one at least

[somnoir]

Damian's future husband

Got inspired by this specific line in a Tumblr thread and my brain went to work

Phantom was a strange hero—a vigilante that often worked with Justice League Dark. Constantine was always so antsy around the man, while Phantom himself often muttered about taxes and blasted fragments whenever said trech coat man was in the vicinity.

The Bats were, of course, initially apprehensive of the death defying being that could rip a man skeleton out of their body, manipulate space itself to rip open portals to different dimensions, and vanish better than they did. They were wary, mildly hostile after realising that Phantom had now issue killing.

But then time passed and Phantom was proven to not be a serial killer but only used killing as a last resort. Though Batman wasn't too pleased, he was—begrudgingly—tolerant of that. Because, yes, Phantom was a nice guy, a very likeable person in general. He made sure that the environmental damage during battles were kept to a minimum, he chose civilians over the enemy whenever it came to hostage situations, he was tactile and kind, and he cared so much for the innocent that he was willing to lose his innocence to keep theirs.

Of course Batman was fond of the young man, especially when he found out that Jason of all people had some sort of crush on him. A very big and almost pathetic one that he and Alfred would watch while sipping tea.

Seriously, Jason was his son! Has he not learned anything from his Brucie persona? The poor thing was like a Victorian maiden and would be scandalised at the mere thought of showing an ankle.

It was embarrassing how he'd practically start blue screening the moment Phantom was in the vicinity. As a father, Bruce was gracious enough not to bully his poor son whenever it came to Phantom. His siblings, on the other hand, held no such qualms and mercilessly dug into Jason.

In all honesty, he pitied Jason after hearing that Phantom assumed that Jason just didn't like him.

He really had to talk to him.

"You fucking hypocrite."

And that was a failure because Bruce forgot that he was just as constipated as his son.

"I'm not taking advice from the man who couldn't even try to be softer in his secret crush!"

With that, Jason slammed the door and left.

Okay... Plan B?

But what the hell was plan B?

Right.

Dick Grayson.

Bruce: About your brother...

Bird child #1: OH MY GOD

Bird child #1: THANK FUCK YOU FINALLY MENTIONED IT

Bruce: it's become an issue

Bruce: Alfred has commented that it's pathetic now.

Bird child #1: Wait wait

Bird child #1: I'll add you to the group chat!

And this Bruce Wayne found himself in a GC named 'Phantom of the Watchtower'. Along with all the complaints expressed by both family and friends when it came to Jason's bullshit.

Ah well... At least he wasn't alone in the suffering.

(Jason did not need to know that there was a video of him grappling through Gotham, Phantom passing by and waving at him, and Jason proceeding to hit a wall mid flight.)

Dick knows that his little wing has had trouble in relationships for a long time. His resurrection changed him, changed how he perceived his relationships. Dick didn't have the heart to be mad about it.

Phantom's arrival was a breath of fresh air for them.

But he suspects that Jason's attraction began with the fact that Phantom had died young as well. Fourteen from what was said. He had died much younger than Jason and had came back a hero, willing to protect the innocent and do what was best for those around him. Sometimes Dick suspects that Jason not only wanted to be with Phantom, but also to be similar to him.

Now he's watching Jason fumble with his words again, immediately going quiet once he realized that nothing coherent was coming out of his mouth. The helmet most likely hid how red his face was.

"Are you alright?" Phantom asked, frowning up at Jason. "You don't feel too good. Is the corrupted ecto acting up again? Oh, I knew I should have sped up the process of removing it but then it'd be very painful if I did it at once. And Frostbite recommended that we went slowly so we could monitor the side effect... And, and—"

"I'm okay." Red Hood immediately assured, his hand practically flying to Phantom's cheek then he shoved it down before he could even touch Phantom. "It's been a long day."

"Is the Joker out again?" Phantom's frown deepened.

Another thing Dick has learned about the dead and the undead! The fact that their murderer was still active unsettled then greatly and affected their entire mentality and behaviour.

"No. No. He hasn't tried escaping."

Phantom hummed, "I see. So what's bothering you."

"It's nothing." Jason grunted, sounding a little too much like Bruce for Dick's liking.

Okay, nope, he wasn't going to let this continue if his baby brother was going to continue making Phantom assumed he didn't like him. Nightwing to the rescue!

"Phantom! Hi!" Nightwing quite literally dropped into the alley, running his fingers through his hair and smoothly directing Jason away from whatever catastrophic misunderstanding he was walking into.

"Hello Nightwing! It's nice to see you again? How's Kori? Oooh! I wanted to invite her to a space date again—" He rambled on and on, eyes practically starry. Wait, nevermind. His eyes really were starry.

(Meanwhile, Jason was cursing his older brother for taking the attention from but also very thankful that Phantom didn't have to witness his stupidity again.)

Tim had noticed that the Joker hasn't attempted to break out in a long... Long time.

It's not a bad thing, no. It was great, in all honesty. But of course, Tim was paranoid, almost batshir crazy (pun intended, in the words of his damn boyfriends). The surveillance feed on Arkham was updated a long time ago, watching it very closely until static overtook the screen.

"Replacement," Tim startled, blinking before he saw Jason peering at him with a questioning look. Practically interrogating him on the spot. "The hell is that?"

"I don't know." Tim clicked his tongue, "This hasn't happened after Babs and I updated those damn cameras. Fuck, give me a second..."

"Did the Joker get out?" Jason practically growled.

"No, no. I'm sure he didn't. He would have been causing trouble by now." Tim reassured, clicking his tongue again before the feed went back to normal. Joker's cell seemed perfectly fine, with the Joker fast asleep on his little cot. "See, just some static. Maybe Phantom passed by."

The mere mention of Phantom has Jason blue screening, instincts kicking in as his older brother shoved his helmet over his head again. Then the idiot gets on his bike and speeds out of the cave.

Coward.

Tim whipped his head around, quickly surveying the area.

The static wasn't random. Phantom always had to be in front of the camera to directly affect the feed. So thank fuck when he made friends with Phantom's teammate—Pharaoh—and figured out how to fix any distorted imagery.

He sees Phantom standing over the Joker's unconscious body, plunging his hand into the maniac's chest and pulled out a glowing green orb. A core, from what he remembered. Holy shit, was the Joker a ghost too?

But he saw how Phantom seemed to put restraints around it, literal chains before shoving it back inside.

Slowly, Phantom turned to the camera, his entire figure still distorted, but he could see that fanged grin that his brother seemed to swoon over.

(The Joker was still alive, very much, but no one could understand how he was stuck in an almost permanent coma. Tim wasn't going to give Jason even more reason to start giggling over Phantom, unless he wanted to ruin the entire Dead on Main operation.)

Damian did not quite understand the insanity that was multiple individuals (including those that were not of their brood) attempting to matchmake Todd with Phantom. He didn't understand what was so great about Phantom, in all honesty.

He was heroic, powerful, and quite intelligent. Many people held similar traits. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a deathly being that attracted Todd in the first place.

"Hello, Robin!" Phantom greeted one day, eyes shimmering like the stars in his cape. "Superboy said you had something to tell me?"

Damian shifted slightly, "Yes. Are you aware of the Lazarus Pits?"

"Ah... Yes, of course. My court and I have been trying to destroy all of them. The Lazarus is corrupted ectoplasm that has been mixed with filth of all kinds." Phantom hummed.

"Filth of all kinds... Disgusting." Damian frowned, nose scrunching up at the memory that he's bathed in those pits before. "But I digress. I would like to assist in the destruction of the pits. Father and the rest of the family has fretted over my grandfather's pits for many years and we have barely grazed the surface on what the Lazarus truly was."

"I see! I was planning on asking Batman to help out on that. But since you've already asked, would you like to come to the Realms? I'm sure you can interrogate some of the ghosts your grandfather has wronged." Phantom grinned, already offering Damian a hand. He was floating, while Damian stood in the roof and stared at the hand.

It reminded him of the kryptonians. But Phantom's hand was cold and he didn't yank Damian the same way Jon often did.

No, Phantom took Damian's hand and then proceeded to hook an arm around Damian's waist, pulling him of the roof and into the air. And then they were flying into a glowing green portal that reminded Damian of the pits.

The moment they were in the infinite realms, Damian felt the overwhelming pressure of the dead. He swallowed the bile that rose from his throat as Phantom set him down on solid ground. The entire place felt eerie and strange, of course it was. This was the afterlife.

"Right, I forgot." Phantom cursed, "You're not as liminal as my family. Give me a second, baby bat." He murmured, his hand glowing green before it's gently pushed into Damian's chest. A sudden wave of warmth overtook his entire body and Damian stared at the ghost.

"I'm giving you a bit of Ecto to reduce any discomfort here in the realms. It'll flush itself out in 24 hours so don't worry about becoming overly liminal." Phantom smiled softly, before he offered his hand to Damian again. "Let's go? I have to stop by my keep to check the records of Al Ghuls victims."

"Of course."

And instead of being carried like a cat, Phantom picked him up bridal style and flew past what seemed to be floating islands and towards a large red and purple castle.

Is this was Todd feels? Damian asked himself, oddly enjoying this experience.

The moment they landed—

"Your majesty!" A floating eyeball yelled, rushing towards them. "You've brought an outsider—"

"Away with you." Phantom snapped, a crown and cape of stars suddenly appearing on him. "This is Robin. Ra's Al Ghul's grandchild."

"The Demon's head..."

"Yes, now shoo." Phantom snapped, before leading Damian away from the eyeball. "I'm sorry for my Observants. They're a conservative bunch."

"You are a king?"

"Mhm... Though I don't like to advertise it. The last king was a tyrant and I defeated him a little while after my death. I never intended to be king, in all honesty. But here I am." He gestured to the crown of fire and ice and the cape of stars. His grin was strained and quite troubled but he didn't mind leading Damian towards a large room filled with bigger files.

"Now, would you like to search yourself or do you want me to have someone else do it?"

Damian grimaced at the sight. "I'd prefer for someone else to suffer."

And that's how Damian found himself touring the realms, with Phantom happily bringing Damian to the arena where a ghost named Skulker awaited them. The man was a hunter, respectful towards Phantom yet troublesome as he challenged him. Phantom looked utterly annoyed, before he turned to Damian with sparkling eyes.

"What about you, Robin?"

And then Damian was fighting everyone and everything in the realms at the behest and amusement of Phantom. The ghost king provided him with different weapons each time an enemy switched.

It's only when they returned to the land of the living that he's informed that any weapon he's used is now his.

And he has a cat with him! The ghost of a small yet ferocious kitten that had his under Phantom's cape whilst Damian and other ghosts fought to glorious battle. Phantom kindly offered her to him, naming her Astra with the star shaped pupils in her eyes.

Damian is quite sure he has fallen in love.

Damian returns to the manor, utterly awestruck and infatuated. Thankfully (unfortunately), Todd is in attendance when Phantom carries him out of the portal, still held in a bridal carry with Damian actively clinging to Phantom like he had hung the stars (maybe he did).

"Sorry if we worried you! Robin wanted to help with our Lazarus problems since it's also your problem too." Phantom quickly explains once he saw Batman's troubled expression. "Don't worry about your gifts. I'll figure out a way to make you a dimensional bag."

Damian stared, "May I visit the realms again? If you would be amendable to it."

"Of course! You're my favorite, so why wouldn't I?"

Hah! Hear that? Take that, Todd!

Phantom vanishes into his portal seconds later, leaving Damian with the most beautiful and intricated sword in his hands. Blinking quietly, he whirled around and pointed the sword at Jason, who instinctively went into a battle stance.

"You may be my brother, Todd, but if you have not married Phantom once I am of age, I shall fight for his hand in marriage himself."

(Jason knows very well that Damian isn't joking and proceeds to practically plan the most novel-esque confession to date. Jane Austen might just be proud.)

Masterpost

[viperwhispered]

Notes on Jamil's speech patterns

I was supposed to just pick out some examples of typical Jamil lines. How he speaks, the vocabulary he uses, things like that. Something I could easily refer to when writing to get the tone right.

But then it kinda blew up, oop – because it’s hard to talk about how a character speaks without also dipping into why they say whatever they say.

Plus then I wanted to get examples of Jamil in different moods, and could not resist some poignant things that were more related to his character or backstory rather than strictly the speech patterns themselves, so… It expanded a bit.

Anyways. Some things I noticed he tends to do:

Sighs (more than I realized)

Snarks

Tch (though could be a more general twst writing choice too)

Stutters when he’s flustered / embarrassed / caught of guard (what a cutie)

Goes ahem like an old man when he’s trying to get back on track in those off-kilter moments

Kinda formal with his manner of speech and choice of words (especially in servant mode) (I always worry I exaggerate this but he sure does do that)

But there’s still some animatedness with the way he emphasises words, for example

(so long-suffering and ready to bark out directions to Kalim oh boy - the way the directness just comes through when he loses it)

sugarcoating his opinions if he doesn’t feel like he can say them plainly (tyrant becomes rigorous, etc.)

sarcasm, sometimes with a side of deadpan, sometimes with a smirk

“Good grief” (another thing I didn't realize was that much of a catchphrase)

Very mild on the level of insults & swears honestly, (I mean, "drat"?) but I imagine this is more of a result of the game's rating (I guess for in-game reasons we can say he's been very conditioned by his upbringing)

I put the screenshots that seemed telling, and some related notes, on to a google sheet. That way one can filter and order it in various ways.

The sheet is probably best viewed on a computer or another larger screen, the screenshots might make it a bit difficult to navigate on mobile.

I did go in with the assumption that Jamil might speak differently pre-overblot (when the servant mask is firmly in place) and post-overblot (at least those occasions where he allows himself to be more honest). Like, there’s the sycophantic (as Leona calls it) flatterer, versus when Jamil’s honestly voicing his own thoughts. Which also shows in how I chose to categorize the screenshots.

Of course events are a bit wibbly wobbly in relation to the main story so can’t be placed in the timeline in the same way, but there are still those occasions where it seems you can tell the difference between the servant mask and a Jamil who’s not saying things just for the sake of appearances.

So, to explain the logic of the sheet:

First column has a screenshot of something Jamil says. The second two columns give the source.

The column for whether or not this happened before or after the overblot is only really used for main story things, since event stories are kinda murky timeline-wise.

Next is whether Jamil seems to be putting on the servant mask or speaking more honestly. This is where get more to interpretation territory, and I’ve not applied it to every screenshot (either because that didn’t seem like the relevant part for that line, or because I couldn’t tell).

The last column of the sheet is where we get most to my personal interpretations. So of course you might read these lines differently than I do, and that’s completely fine, these are simply the aspects that seemed poignant to me. Some notes are simply pointing out specific word choices or style of speech, others delve more into character analysis side of things.

Totally fine if you want to copy this file or modify it to your own needs. All I ask is that you don’t pass off anything I wrote as your own thoughts.

Order of lines is based purely on the order the pics were in my screenshots folder, so guess this is also an insight on the order I played things in, lol.

Tagging some jamil peeps in case y'all find this useful:

@crystallizsch @diodellet @moonyasnow @twstgo @lex752

@majestickitty @viperbunnies

[wandaslittlebird]

If You Wanted to Stay

Married WandaNat x Reader

Summary: It’s been a confusing past 24 hours, and you have some decisions to make. Luckily, Wanda and Natasha are here to help.

CW: Homophobia, Moving, Guilt, Fluff, Still Slowly Burning, Still no Sex/Romance

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Three months of waiting but at least you needn’t wait for Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of A Room of Your Own

———————————————————

You woke up the next morning groggier than usual. You sat up as the events of the previous night came back to you. The fight in the dorms. The girl on the sidewalk. The woman who had come to rescue you.

The woman whose house you were currently in. You groaned and dramatically fell back onto the pillows. You turned to the nightstand to check your phone. Dead. Of course. Your charger was in your dorm room.

You finally rolled out of bed at the smell of coffee. In the morning light, the house was much more opulent than you recalled from last night. The bedroom was on a beautiful awning that overlooked the massive windows lined wall of the front door. You squinted your eyes as they took in the sunlight.

Making your way downstairs, you easily found the kitchen, as well as the woman leaning up against the kitchen counter. It wasn’t Natasha so you assumed it must be her wife, Wanda. She was taller than Natasha but just as lean, and just as absolutely jaw droppingly beautiful. She also had red hair, but much lighter than Natasha’s. More of a strawberry blonde. Her legs showed well defined muscle, and her thighs looked like…

“My my,” the woman tutted, interrupting your thoughts. You redden as you realized she caught you ogling over her thighs, which were hardly covered by her silk robe. “Nat wasn’t kidding when she said you were a cutie. Y/N, right?”

You nodded. “Miss Wanda, I assume?”

She nodded. “Y/N. I like that.” She added. “Is that my sweatshirt you’re wearing?” She smirked over the top of her coffee mug.

You flushed in embarrassment when you remembered that you were still in the sweatshirt you’d found on the bed last night.

The sweatshirt, and nothing else.

“It was… my other clothes were wet and-,” you attempted to explain.

“It’s okay. It looks absolutely darling on you. You can keep it, if you like,” she interrupted, trying to soothe your rising worries.

You frowned. You didn’t want to keep the sweatshirt because if you did, the comfy smell that all but lulled you to sleep last night would fade. Almost unconsciously, you raised your covered hands to your face, taking in the smell again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it.”

Wanda smiled and chuckled. Whether you knew it or not, you weren’t one for subtly.

“Well good morning,” a raspy voice chimed from behind you. “You’re up early.” Natasha squeezed your shoulder and offered you a sleepy smile before approaching her wife.

God, she looked even more beautiful in the daylight.

She wrapped her arms around Wanda’s waist and leaned up against the counter next to her. Wanda gave her a quick peck on the forehead.

You looked at the clock above the stove. It wasn’t even 8am yet. You really had gotten up early. No wonder you’d been so entranced by the coffee smell. Natasha kissed Wanda on the cheek before drawing out two mugs from the cabinet and filling them with coffee. “Which kind of creamer do you like? We’ve got half and half or…” she picked up the bottle and read the label “peppermint oat?” She shot a teasing glance at her wife.

“Life is short and I want a caffeinated delicacy every morning,” Wanda retorted. “And dairy makes my stomach hurt.”

You chuckled. “I’m intrigued. I’ll take the oat.”

Wanda smirked, smugly crossing her arm while she took another sip of her coffee. “She has a sense of adventure.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, pouring the creamer into your cup before handing it to you. You let out a satisfied hum as you tasted the new flavor. Peppermint had always been a favorite of yours.

Natasha put the creamers away, then propped herself up on the kitchen island. “So, about last night,” she started, “do you wanna talk about it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, sinking into the oversized hoodie. “I wasn’t trying to make anyone uncomfortable.” Your eyes brimmed with tears just at the thought. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, determined not to cry.

Wanda set her coffee mug down and slid closer to you. “Oh honey,” she cooed, reaching out to squeeze your hand, “we know that. If I had to guess, they weren’t so much uncomfortable as they were straight up hateful. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You didn’t do anything wrong.

Your heart sunk. You’d felt so terribly guilty about the whole situation. You had tried so hard to make everyone comfortable. The idea that you’d failed… no, you had done worse than fail. They saw you as a predator. Your skin crawled with disgust and shame.

“I made them scared, but I promise I wasn’t trying to. I’m not like that, I promise.” You wanted to shrink back and disappear. Then you remembered this morning: walking into the kitchen and looking at Wanda. The way she caught you staring at her exposed legs. Not to mention you were half naked after forgetting to put on pants before coming downstairs. Fuck. Maybe you were like that.

Natasha tore you from your thoughts with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “We believe you, sweetheart. Really. None of this is your fault. Why don’t we sit down and come up with a game plan.”

You simply nodded in response, joining them at the kitchen table. “I’ll head back to the dorms this afternoon. I have some friends off campus that I can probably crash with until I get things figured out. Thank you both for your hospitality last night. It really means a lot,” you finally said, taking a long drink of your coffee. As much as you typically loved to savor the drink, you figured the sooner you finished it the sooner you could get out of their hair.

Wanda and Natasha exchanged glances. Something akin to concern washed across their faces. Natasha hadn’t even turned back to face you before saying “I think Wanda and I would prefer if you’d let us go with you…”

“Strongly prefer,” Wanda corrected, finally looking back at you. “After how harshly you’ve been treated, I don’t think you need to be going back all by yourself.”

You stuttered, trying to think of a rebuttal, a reason you’d be fine on your own. Unfortunately the panic you’d just recovered from wasn’t helping your case. Clearly you weren’t fine. “It’s really okay. There’s only a couple boxes, most of the stuff never even got unpacked…”

“Then we’ll make quick work of it. Together.” Wanda interrupted. She put her coffee mug a little harder than necessary, pursing her lips with finality.

Natasha chuckled. “It appears my wife has made up her mind. Good luck changing it now.”

You flushed, hiding your face in the hoodie once again. You weren’t so bothered by the thought of the women helping you move out of the dorm, but finding a place to put your things was another matter entirely. You hadn’t lived anywhere but the dorms for years. Maybe they’d settled for just moving the stuff to your car? You doubted it. You pulled anxiously at the collar of the hoodie.

Wanda gave you a sympathetic look and reached across the table for your hand. “It’s going to be okay, honey. We’re going to make sure you’re taken care of.”

Your bottom lip quivered. You had never been keen on asking for help. You had always hated feeling like any sort of inconvenience. But something about Wanda’s soft smile and green eyes made you feel different. You believed her. Before you could think any better of it you whispered “I have nowhere else to go.”

It was Natasha who spoke this time. “Oh honey, that room upstairs is yours for as long as you need it. I mean it, Wands and I would enjoy the company.”

You considered your options. You could couch surf again, like you’d done in the months before college, but it’s not like you’d be any less inconvenient on a punk squat couch with 20 people already living there. You’d run away from opportunities like this before, robbing yourself of others' kindness just because you didn’t feel like you deserved it. You took a deep breath. Whether you deserved it or not, this wasn’t worth running away from. “I have one condition,” you stated seriously. You weren’t in the position to be the one making requests, but there was one absolute necessity you needed from both of them.

Both women nodded, looking at you attentively. Hope gleaned in their eyes in a way you didn’t recognize.

“If I’ve stayed too long, or it’s just become burdensome, or anything, anything at all happens and I become an inconvenience to you, you will tell me.”

They both soften, seemingly unaffected by your request. Wanda even chuckled briefly. “Darling, you aren’t going to become a burden, we assure you,” she soothed.

Your hardened stare didn’t soften. You felt no relief in her words. You squeezed Wanda’s hand that still held yours. “Promise. Me. Promise me you will tell me,” you demanded. With a whispered desperation you added “please.” This wasn’t going to be negotiable for you. You needed to hear them say it.

They both looked at you with a renewed seriousness. Natasha nodded. “We promise.”

Your grip on Wanda’s hand loosened. Then Natasha put her hand on top of yours and Wanda’s. She raised it and cheered like you had put your hands in a circle before a sports game. You and Wanda both soften, chuckling at the older woman’s attempt to lighten the mood.

“Okay team, let’s suit up and get those boxes out of that dorm room before those college girls wake up at noon,” Natasha said, hopping out of her seat and kissing her wife on the top of the head. “Y/N, I left some clothes and a toothbrush in your bathroom. Be ready in 20.”

************

Packing up your dorm had been as delightfully uneventful as you could’ve hoped. Natasha had been correct, most of the girls on your floor were still asleep. The hall was entirely void of people. Your previous roommates had already packed up their things, so all that remained was two bare college beds.

True to your word, packing took no time at all. Between your car and Natasha’s, it wasn’t even going to take a second trip. You had to turn down Wanda’s offer to ride back with you for directions several times, insisting you could use your GPS. In reality though, you were a bit embarrassed by the thought of Wanda being in your old junker car. There was a notable hole in the floorboard of the passenger side. She would’ve had to tuck her feet up to ensure they didn’t fall through..

You waved goodbye as they pulled off in Natasha’s Mustang. Once you were sure they were gone you dug into one of the boxes Wanda had packed, pulling your teddy bear from the top. It had been tradition that everytime you moved, even if it was just dorms, he would be your copilot on your way to your new home. You carefully buckled the seatbelt over him, hopping in the driver’s seat and driving to your temporary new home.

When you arrived, Natasha and Wanda were already busying themselves with unloading the car. Natasha laughed when you got out of the car. “I’m surprised that thing still moves!” she teased, referring to your very old, very busted car.

You smiled and cautiously tapped the hood. “Cheese Louise runs just fine, thank you,” you retorted.

This time it was Wanda who burst into laughter. “Your car’s name is Cheese Louise?”

“Well…” you gestured dramatically towards the car. It was one of the single most unattractive vehicles you’d ever seen. It was just a shade brighter than mustard yellow, and the whole thing was chocked full of holes that had since rusted into larger holes. You didn’t know what the holes were from. They’d already been there when you bought the car. The radio didn’t work, and neither did the AC. But it was your first car and you had grown rather fond of it over the years. “It’s fitting.”

Wanda shrugged, popping one of the backdoors open to help unload. You expected to be unloading the cars into the garage, just as storage until you found another place to stay. To your surprise, the women were actually bringing the boxes inside.

You attempted to correct them, but Wanda tilted her head in confusion. “We can keep it out here if you’d prefer but we were actually kinda hoping you’d let us make your room more… yours.” She could tell by the expression on your face you were unsure, so she reached out her hand and grabbed yours. “Come on, let us give it a shot.” She winked and squeezed your hand before pulling you upstairs.

********

The rest of the afternoon was spent unpacking all of your things into the large bedroom and around the house. You were surprised by how pleasant it all was. You had never found any joy in moving and packing and unpacking, but it was different this time around. You simply found the company enjoyable.

Natasha had unpacked a speaker, insisting you put on some decorating music. Unsure of what to play, you picked a playlist you had made years ago to listen to when you rode in the car with your mother. It was essentially just old hits and a mix of some more modern pop music. The playlist was honestly kind of a mess, but it was still reliably enjoyable. You collapsed onto the bed with laughter as you watched Natasha teasingly attempt to grope her wife, to “Love Shack” by the B-52’s. Wanda rolled her eyes and continued with her decorating before giving in towards the end of the song.

Wanda seemed to really be in her element as well. Despite her complete lack of interest in the “Legend of Zelda” posters she was hanging, she really had a knack for being able to cohesively visualize the room. You beamed with delight as she unveiled a giant poster from the galleria borghese and asked if she could hang it in her office downstairs. You happily agreed. The poster was from an ex who’d taken a trip to Rome one winter, but it was so beautiful you’d kept it anyway.

Natasha stripped the blankets off the california king bed and replaced them with the blankets you’d brought. You had insisted you were fine with the blankets they already had, but after watching you wrap yourself in your favorite throw and rub your face comfortingly against the soft material, Wanda insisted otherwise. You really did love your blankets.

By the time dinnertime rolled around, you were all collapsed against the large mattress. Natasha starfished out all her limbs and Wanda curled up into her side. You laid on your back with your hands folded against your chest. You had an inexplicable urge to curl up with them. You had only met them yesterday and yet you felt drawn to them. You couldn’t remember the last time that being around people had been so easy. So often you found yourself quickly exhausted or at a loss for words, but you hadn’t felt that at all today. The panic from this morning seemed a distant memory.

“Where’s the bear?” Wanda asked, peeking her head up to scan the bed.

Your face flushed. “What?” you asked. You hoped if you played dumb, she might drop the issue. You wondered how she even remembered such a small detail from helping you pack, but you guessed that a college student having one single stuffed animal must have stood out.

“I packed a stuffed bear from the dorms. Was it not in any of the boxes?” Wanda corrected. She genuinely looked a little worried. You weren’t going to be able to wiggle out of this so easily.

“Oh yeah, he must’ve fallen out in the car. I’ll check in the morning,” you said as nonchalantly as you could. You’d be humiliated if she found out how important that bear was to you. You knew you were too old for it to be such a source of comfort. It wasn’t even a comfort from childhood. You had never kept stuffed animals growing up. You’d just picked him up around two years ago when your therapist had recommended a trip to Build-a-Bear to “heal your inner child” or something. His importance had grown by accident. Still, the idea of either woman learning of him was nauseating.

Wanda finally shrugged, seeming pleased enough with your answer.

It wasn’t until later that night, after you’d already fallen asleep, she decided to check for herself. She tucked the bear carefully under your arm, cautious not to wake you up. “I found him. Sweet dreams you two.”

[ditzydoe444]

prof jason x student reader!? i luv ur content sm

MDNI 18+

teacher's pet ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡

prof! jason x student! reader

jason todd smut

jason todd was your professor at university, you were currently studying engineering, and struggling doesn’t even begin to describe your current situation. no matter how much you studied, participated in class, and asked questions you always found yourself barely passing. it was just something about the stupid numbers that didn’t make sense to your brain.

one night you were mentally planning on telling your professor about dropping the class, but one thing led to another of your fantasies going wild. jason was attractive, he had this rugged manly look going on, with his messy black hair, muscles that were huge and the charming crooked grin he would give. he really was attractive.

next day you stayed back at the lecture, preparing to tell him about dropping the class, your fantasies were fantasies for a reason. it was inappropriate, and god jason would never condone it.

“sir,” you mumbled shyly as you approached his desk, his pen cap held by his teeth as he marked work. you’ve never felt so shy talking to a professor. normally, you were the teacher's pet growing up, so why were you so affected?

“i was thinking about dropping the class,” your voice dropped lower the moment his eyes met yours, cold and calculating. jason shifted in his chair, placing the pen’s cap back on before leaning back, his strong arms crossing each other. “what makes you say that?”

well because you were barely passing.

“i’ve been struggling with this course, it’s like no matter what i do i'm always getting the same low marks.” jason let out a low chuckle, his smile lines becoming prominent, “you’re dropping because you can’t stand getting low grades? thought you were more resilient than that sweetheart.”

the endearment had more of an effect on you than you would’ve liked, your cheeks heating up whilst you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. maybe wearing a mini skirt to class wasn’t the best idea. “you know i don’t like students who give up easily right? so no, i'm not letting you drop out.”

your eyes widen, that wasn’t the response you expected or wanted. “i need to maintain my average sir, if i stay here it’ll go down,” you pleaded, your voice shaky.

“there are different ways to get your credit up,” jason shrugged nonchalantly as he resumed marking his papers. different ways? what other ways would he be thinking?

“other assignments sir? or participation marks? i always participate maybe something could be gained from that.” you rambled, you were so desperate to boost your average it was a pathetic sight, to say the least, and you could tell jason was having the time of his life.

he shook his head, “you said you were barely passing and want another assignment? how desperate are you sweetheart?” he raised a brow.

very desperate. you would do anything.

jason stretched his legs out, his legs spreading far apart, showing his thick muscular thighs. suddenly your mind drifted back to the fantasy you had last night, what if you just kneeled down in between his legs and-

though jason quickly broke you out of your trance, his deep voice speaking up. “you going to keep starin’ in between my legs or respond sweetheart?” your cheeks heat up, you were basically begging to switch classes and now you got caught for staring at your professor's clothes cock.

he was on the slightly older side, you’ve heard he doesn’t really talk that much to other people, so he must have some sort of pent-up frustration right? what if you helped with that?

everything was embarrassing enough, usually, conversations with professors regarding topics like these would be shorter, them letting you drop the class, but no. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough so what if you just acted on your fantasies? if it goes wrong it’ll give you a reason to drop college altogether.

before you could even think rationally about the many, many things that could go wrong with what you were going to do, you kneeled right in front of him. “you gonna suck your way out of this?” he raised a brow, a small lazy grin on his face.

“will it work?” you asked, but you didn’t care if it didn’t, at this point this was for your own pleasure too. your hands fumbled with the belt, before unzipping his pants. “if you decide to put on your best show,” jason shrugged, despite how nonchalant he was acting, the large bulge in his pants gave his true feelings away.

you clumsily tugged his pants mid-thigh alongside his boxers, springing out his erection. you tried your best to not look intimidated by his size, but it was hard. his long fat cock was in your hands, with the slightly pink tip already leaking with pre cum. “gonna give it your best sweetheart?” jason groaned at your touch, his head tilting back with his eyes shut.

“yes sir,” you mumbled softly as your hands worked up and down his cock, watching it get harder in your hands. when he was big everywhere, he was big everywhere.

“stop playing around and suck,” he hissed sharply when your thumb wiped the leaking pre cum. obediently, you obeyed, shoving him into your mouth with no warning making him groan loudly. you were too eager to think properly, your nose touching his trimmed hair, whilst one of your hands was wrapped around the two inches you couldn’t take.

even though you didn’t fully take him in your mouth he was big enough to make you gag slightly, tears already welling up in your eyes, whilst you felt your jaw was going to lock. “aren’t you eager sweet thing?” he cooed softly, one of his hands gently caressing your cheek whilst the other gripped the arm of the chair.

slowly, you went up and down his length, your tongue swiping against his tip tasting the slightly salty fluid. “m-mph,” you whined as you tried to force the other inch down. “if you keep going ‘m gonna make sure you get full credit for everything, alright sweetheart?” jason whispered softly.

you were a mess and jason loved it, there was just something about seeing someone younger than him with their mouth stuffed with his cock, with tears streaming down their face whilst their saliva dribbled down. you’ve been sucking his dick to the point where you were convinced your jaw was going to lock, it was being stretched out to the point of being uncomfortable.

“gonna come sweetheart, mind if i fill your pretty little mouth,” he cooed softly. you hummed eagerly, nodding like a desperate whore. “so desperate to be filled up aren’t ya? how about i fill your little cunt up after as a reward?” you moaned at that, the vibrations sending shivers to jason.

you gagged the moment he filled your mouth, his hot salty fluid filling up your mouth. in a matter of seconds, he pulled your he had away from his cock harshly, making some of his cum dribble down your chin. “come here and ride me sweet thing,” jason groaned slightly as he patted his thighs.

you wasted no time straddling up, he pushed your baby pink lace panties to the side before shoving a finger into your cunt. “already soaked for me, aren’t you an easy thing to please?” his slight stubble tickling your chin as he kisses your neck.

it was a matter of time before you were bouncing on his cock, your lewd moans filling up the lecture hall paired with your skin slapping with jason’s. “there we go, bounce like a bunny sweet thing,” he praised as his large hands encircled the whole of your waist, supporting you whilst he thrust upwards.

“already drooling sweetheart,” he cooed softly watching as your saliva mixed with his cum dribbled down your chin to your shirt, staining it. you couldn’t keep your mouth shut from the moans you were letting out with his harsh thrusts, and also couldn’t swallow it as he would basically make you choke and gag on your own saliva come from how hard he was going.

“gonna keep this our little secret sweetheart?” jason groaned as he squeezed your waist tightly. “y-yes,” you whined out, one of your hands wiping your mouth to stop the saliva and cum dribbling down. jason quickly grabbed that hand, holding it tightly in his grip whilst he stared at you intently, “yes who?”

“y-yes sir,” you whined out, making a mess on your chin and shirt. jason gave a crooked smile, “good girl, can’t have the word getting out that you love bouncin’ on my cock can we?”

[k1mbe3rly]

can i request a thanos and namgyu threesome smut?

ofc🥵

Can you handle it?

warnings; smut, ⚠️threesome⚠️ double penetration, anal, maybe a bit forced? rough sex, dom! Thanos and Namgyu, Shy!reader, Mean!nam gyu

Thanos and Nam gyu had chose you to play with them for the Six legs game, and honestly during it you felt rushed since Nam gyu would scream at you if you messed it up, but in the end yall made it out alive, THANK GOD.

“Guys. Once we vote all of yall are gonna keep playing. Just one more game until it hits one billion at least” Nam gyu spoke, you looked at him, “W-well i think that’s enough money for everyone..i mean.. you spoke shyly

“I said to fucking pick ‘O’ bitch! be fucking lucky, we practically saved your life!” Nam gyu yelled as you flinched a bit

“Nam-su chilll..i’m sure she knows what’s best for her.” Thanos said looking at us, he seemed like he was high or something.. who knows, “Dude..It’s Nam-gyu, don’t embarrass me infront of the Huzz..” Nam- gyu spoke

You raised an eyebrow and ignored it, you looked over at the rest of the team, Se-mi and Min-su, Se- mi had a palm to her hand looking bored as Min-su was just looking around nervously

You looked back at the two other boys, “So.. Señorita..what’s your name huh?” thanos called out leaning on the stairs

“Uh..y/n” you said fidgeting with your sleeve a bit, Thanos hummed and nodded “Pretty name for a pretty girl eh? right bro?” Nam-gyu said laughing and nudging Thanos, Thanos nodded and laughed a bit

You watched awkwardly as you laughed nervously but stopped not knowing what to do, they begin laughing even harder at something else, you got even more awkward scooting away a bit.

Time passed and it was time to vote, since you were player 427 you were the last one to vote out of all of them, you watched one by one, As se-mi voted she picked ‘X’ which made you bright up a bit.

As soon as your number was called you slowly walked over to the buttons looking around nervously, you looked at Se-mi who stared at you for a bit and looked back at thanos and nam gyu who were just smirking a bit

Finally you clicked on ‘X’ and quickly went to Se-mi.

“What a fucking bitch..” Nam gyu muttered, “Nah it’s alright, she’ll get what’s coming” Thanos said as he danced around a bit, Nam gyu looked at him with confusion but quickly realized what he meant and chuckled.

It was near lights out and you had went to the bathroom, and you were washing your hands, the door opened as you looked up and quickly widen your eyes at the two familiar figures, you quickly turned around trying to leave but thanos placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hold onnn.. we’re not mad at you” Thanos said as you panicked, “Yea even tho you fucking betrayed us but whatever.” Nam gyu said as he grabbed your shoulder, “S-so if your not mad than.. w-what do you want..?” you said in fear, it was until Thanos slightly pushed you into a stall, “We just wanna have fun with you for a bit” Thanos said smirking, he pushed you onto the toilet seat.

Nam gyu looked around real quick before entering, he quickly walked into the stall and closed it locking it, he quickly faced you basically ripping off your jacket, you didn’t refuse or anything.

Once your jacket was off, Nam gyu shoved you up, and immediately shoved off both of your pants and panties roughly making you gasp, he quickly rubbed your pussy for a bit and stopped as he took off his own pants and boxers

“Have you ever took it up the ass pretty girl?” Thanos asked suddenly as Nam-gyu sat down on the toilet seat, “h-huh?!” you quickly said, “Have you ever had someone fuck you in the ass?” thanos stated again boldly, “What? no.. why would i-..” you said as you realized why he asked you that

“Well there’s a first time for anything.” Nam gyu said as grabbed on your hips, “Wait! I’ve never done this before!” you quickly said, “Chill..it’s just gonna hurt for a minute” Nam-gyu stated as he slightly spread you asscheeks a bit and had you sit over his cock for a minute, he grabbed his cock feeling your tight hole for a moment, without hesitation he quickly slammed your hips down making you scream a bit as thanos covered your mouth “Shh.. be gentle man.” Thanos said to Nam-gyu as he scoffed.

Nam gyu kept you there for a minute, you felt just a small sting of pain as it slowly went away “Does it still hurt?” Nam-gyu asked, at least he’s being a BIT gentle.., you shaked your head, he smirked as he started thrusting up, feeling your tight hole stretched out. you moaned a bit loudly on thanos hand.

Thanos than pulled down his pants and boxers as well and started jerking off to the sight of you and nam-gyu a bit, after a minute or two he grabbed your legs spreading them open in the air, he chuckled as he lined up his tip against your pussy. He than slowly bucked his hips towards a loud groan coming from him as you moaned from thanos and nam gyu still thrusting up into you.

Loud slapping sounds filled the stall as thanos was more vocal than Nam-gyu, thanos groaned quite loudly as he thrusted into your pussy hard and rough

Nam-gyu was way less vocal but you could still hear hard breathing from him as he fumbled with tits a bit thru your shirt while thrusting into your tight hole.

The knot in your stomach was starting to form realizing you were close to your orgasm, “Mm~!! m’gonna cum! augh~!” you moaned out loudly, Nam-gyu cock twitched as he groaned out a bit throwing his head back. Thanos was still fucking you hard and rough not slowing down at all.

After a bit you cummed on thanos cock as you moaned out loudly, Thanos didn’t care as he kept thrusting, Nam gyu groaned out loudly as he cummed into your hole. “Fuck..” he whispered as he stopped thrusting up and stayed there for a moment, Thanos kept going as he went even faster to cum as well, you kept moaning loudly “Fuck- i’m almost there holy shit!” thanos growled out as he gripped on your ankles, your eyes rolled back at the overstimulation, finally Thanos cummed inside you as he quickly pulled out his cock landing on your clit as his cum covered your clit a bit, he rubbed his tip against your clit for a moment and stopped once his cum stopped.

Thanos chuckled as he backed up. “Get this slut off me already.” Nam gyu said panting “C’mon get up princess” Thanos said grabbing you and pulling you up, Nam gyu slid his pants back on and walked out the stall without hesitation. “Don’t mind him.. he’s always like that” thanos said laughing. You didn’t say anything as you quickly put on your pants as well, thanos followed along and gave walked away turning back a blowing a kiss to you than laughing and leaving. What assholes.

[eternal-love]

MY DAAAAARLING! I know we have talked about this so let’s think about it - Austin comes home after long day and all he wants is to relax, so reader decides to help him shower and eventually showers with him and the rest is on you 😏🤭

SOAKED

Pairing: Austin Butler x Housewife!reader

Summary: Austin comes back tired from a day filled with meetings, you decide to help him blow some steam.

Warning: smut (blowjob), gender roles?????

Note: This one is for my baby. Like last week we were fantasizing about taking a shower with Austin and this came out. @butlervibesonly @annesart

You had recently married Austin, you were the happiest ever. You remembered the wedding as if it had been yesterday. It was a private affair, on a small courthouse with his closest friends and family.

The house you lived in was a bit far from the actual city, Austin was a very private person so he liked having his own space that the paparazzi didn’t know about. You didn’t have to drive anywhere either, you were a housewife.

You baked a cranberry pie, the kitchen smelled delicious, everything was coming together to perfection. As soon as it was done, you plated it down to let it cool down, when you heard the door open, the sound of his boots and him dropping the keys on the coffee table.

Austin groaned as he sat on the couch and threw his head back. “C’mere, babe.” He called you over. Wearing his usual black sweatshirt, black pants and brown boots.

Obediently you listened, you sat by his side and cuddled with him, what a great welcome.

“I missed you.” You said, hugging him tightly. He chuckled lowly, his hand drawing circles on your back. “I made you a pie. I know it’s your favorite.”

“A pie? My, how am I all lucky? Huh?” He purred, his voice deep as it had always been. You chuckled as he grabbed your face with his hand.

“Just for you. You know it.” You smiled as you looked up at him.

“But first, I have to shower. I stink.” Austin chuckled, he pecked your lips. To which you groaned, you didn’t want him away for not even a second.

You reluctantly let him go upstairs to shower, after a few minutes, you slowly crept upstairs and walked towards the bathroom. He never shut the door, Austin always said that he didn’t like the bathroom feeling like a sauna.

So you watched him undress, the way he took off his tshirt, his whole torso out for exposure. His hardened abs, his happy trail, all the miles he had around his stomach. It made you bite your lip, it made you feel dirty for all the thoughts that started running your mind. As a housewife, a part of you believed that a housewife shouldn’t be the one starting all of this, the intimacy, you were used to him initiating everything.

But you were caught, he turned his face around and let out a chuckle as you let out a gasp.

“You can come in. Come on.” He said, a bit embarrassed you came into the bathroom. “Anna shower with me? I know you do, doll.”

Your face heats up, but a smile crept into your face. “If you don’t mind it.” You said as you started unbuttoning your dress.

The shower was warm, perfect for you both. As you stepped in, you both got wet, you grabbed the soap and loofah, you knew he was tense, you could just feel it. But as soon as you scrubbed him, he let out some groans.

“Feels good?” It was more of a rhetorical question, a small smile on your face.

“What d’ya think?” He opened his eye, smiling at you.

You kept scrubbing him, but he didn’t really get that relaxed, at least not how you expected it. You knew he was in a lot of stress lately, with all the meetings with his agent and PR team. A part of you knew that he needed more intimacy to relax, and you were more than willing to do it.

You turned off the shower, he was immediately confused. He had only just washed his body.

“What are you doing?” He asked, raising his eyebrow. Your face was what gave away your intentions.

“Helping you relax.” You stood in front of him, slowly kissing his neck, wet kisses, sucking on his skin, he threw his head back, he started whimpering.

“I see what you mean…” Austin said, his voice low and seductive, his hand going to your hair as you slowly went down, kissing his chest tight to below his belly button.

It tingled him immediately, the desire taking over his body, your hands on both sides of his hips. You gave small pecks on his pelvis, before you pecked the base of his cock, he bit his lower lip, you hadn’t even started yet but he was already gripping your hair.

“Eager, are we?” You whispered, he shivered, humming in response.

You weren’t that much into giving blowjobs, it wasn’t your thing. But you tried to do it to him, he deserved it every once in a while.

“Don’t tease me, just do it.” Austin yanked your head back, a bit hard that it made you squirm. “Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded as he stopped gripping so hard. You mentally thanked god, you didn’t want him pulling hair out your scalp.

You got back to work, your hand grabbed his hardened cock, held it close to your face, he was always very well-endowed.

You licked your lips, and then gave a long lick across his length. Austin let out a loud moan, the warmth of your mouth making him feel like he’s ready to cum. You took a deep breath before taking his cock all inside your mouth, of course it was big and you gagged, but the sound of his moans made it worth it.

He grabbed a handful of your hair, “Fuck, doll. You’re…” he moaned, his hand just guiding you, he was quite gentle actually. “Amazing.”

You gripped his hips, your nails digging in his flesh.

“C’mon, baby. Take it all… you can.” He whimpered, throwing his head back.

Tears filled your eyes, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your jaw ached but you were willing to push through it.

“So needy, hmm?” Austin muttered, trying to regain his composure.

You bobbed your head, trying your best not to puke, but the sound of saliva and spit filled the silent bathroom. Sounds so nasty it would send anyone into a coma. Your knees started to ache, you couldn’t wait til it was over, but again, you knew he wouldn’t rest afterwards.

He was reaching his climax, his moans more ragged than before, and louder. Thank God you didn’t have neighbors close enough.

“God! Fuck— doll… I’m gonna…” Austin moaned loudly, he started thrusting his hips, tears ran down your cheeks. “Doll…!” And you felt the hot seed filling the back of your throat. Not the tastiest flavor, but you pulled your head away, his cock leaving your mouth, he whined, he cock was hit with the cold atmosphere of the shower.

You swallowed, fought with yourself to not spit it out, you showed him your tongue after swallowing. He smiled.

“Good job.” Austin chuckled.

The shower was silent afterwards, you both finished cleaning off. And then you got out the shower. You put on the shirt he was supposed to wear, and the towel wrapped around your hair. Austin placed a towel around his waist. And you two did your usual routine. He started shaving his stubble, you sat down in the toilet seat, staring at him.

“You liking what you see?” Austin asked as he finished wiping his face.

“I like this view, it’s gorgeous.” You spoke, your jaw still a bit sore. But you were happy, he looked the times more relaxed.

“I think I should reward you. You deserve it…” Austin purred, his smirk growing.

“Really?” You chuckled as you stood up. His hands were on your waist.

“Hmm, lemme show you what I’m all about.” He leaned down to kiss you, chuckling in between kisses. He guided you towards the bedroom and laid you down in the bed.

He continued kissing you until he slowly got rid of his old tshirt you had on. Your body shivered thanks to the atmosphere of the bedroom. His kissing went down, your neck, your chest, your lower stomach.

If you pleased him, he’d please you back.

“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked…”

[transmutationisms]

hi - looking to get more into reading history books instead of just researching online… do you have any tips on vetting books/authors for liberalism, racism, etc… in the past i’ve found this very hard to do with nonfiction before actually reading the book. are there publishers, etc i should be looking out for? esp bc there’s ideas/trains of thoughts/scholars i might not recognize as biased, liberal, conservative etc. if i’m not well-versed in the discourse of the subject.

in general if you are looking for refereed (peer-reviewed) academic nonfic, you are going to have to assume the texts will reflect not only the ideological values of the institutions (universities and university presses) that produce them, but also the winnowing effect that ensures only a select few people even get the opportunity to publish this way -- these individuals also have class interests and those tend to overlap heavily with those of the institutions, both because people who can make it to this stage of an academic career tend to be bourgeois and petit-bourgeois to begin with, and because even those who weren't almost invariably come down with a case of temporarily embarrassed petit-bourgeois syndrome sometime in between phd candidacy and book manuscript submission.

which is to say I really cannot give you a good vetting list to eliminate liberals and racists from your academic nonfic reading. sorry! you will spend a lot of time reading people you disagree with, people who did valuable archival research but interpret it in chronically liberal idealist ways, people who are right on one historical point and wrong on all the others, &c. even when I read the rare communist historian I can't remember ever co-signing the entirety -- this kind of criticism is just part of the process.

I do think, though, there are some helpful things you can look for that can cue you as to whether a book is worth reading critically or is just straight up trash. ymmv and this is definitely a non-exhaustive list but here's some of what I look for:

read the methodology notes in the intro. phrases like "contextualist history" (= social and economic context) are a good sign. "history from below" or "social history" also tend to be helpful (read: this book talks about 'ordinary people' and labourers, not just heads of state and military).

intros should also signpost if the book deals with colonialism and/or imperialism; look for substantive statements about these.

in rare cases in certain subfields you may see references to a distinction between 'internalist' (idealist, whiggish, great man histories) vs 'externalist' (contextualist) approaches.

everybody in history footnotes foucault, so that means nothing in any direction. anybody who footnotes marx positively in the last 30 or so years is at least going to be a fun time, but is often also a dipshit. scan for other big 'theory' names you may recognise -- even before you know the historiography, this can help indicate what you're getting into

you can also read intro + conclusion first, and that can help you gauge whether the chapters are worth it. not always perfectly indicative, though

academic presses are all clowns but if you read a lot in specific areas you will definitely start to get a sense of certain clusters of clownery if you're paying attention to the frontmatter. like for example if a history text came out of berkeley in the 90s it might still be stupid but I do kind of know what flavour of stupid it will be and what I can expect to extract from it

on that note, it literally is helpful to skim the acknowledgments at the beginning and idk why more people don't do this lol. look for names of scholars they credit as having given feedback (on manuscripts or conference presentations), as well as the name of their advisor if it's a first book. the first few times you do this you won't recognise any names and that's fine, but when you start to see repeats or see names you've read before you actually gain a lot of information right off the bat on the author's ideological and political milieux lol

look at what journals it was reviewed in. again reviews in flagship journals don't automatically mean it's good but it tells you about the intended audience, with all the baggage that entails

books reviewed in mass media (legacy newspapers, etc) tend to be aimed at a popular audience and are intended to be more readable, with less dense scholarly references and often thinner primary source work. again this doesn't mean the academic publications are automatically good.

zero shame in reading book reviews, either before or after reading the book. reviewers are part of the same clown system as authors and publishers. but seeing how other scholars talk about the book and topic is very helpful for clueing you into what sorts of debates are happening in the field, what their ideological parameters are, and how the author in question comes down on them

you are allowed and even required to disagree if an author is wrong lol. I would say the no. 1 thing I run across in what I read is like, decent to good historical work on racialisation but the interpretation will be completely distorted by the author being a horrendous liberal who does in fact think that 'race' has some biological reality (while often not believing that they even hold this belief, lmao). when you start seeing arguments like this it's your cue to follow the footnotes and look at the data and archival material included in the book. and if there's none that's just bad methodology!

[caelivir]

Um um.....Miya atsumu Long way 2 go -- Casie

And and trope- enemies to lovers??

Also I love your writing👾👾

now playing: long way 2 go by casie

atsumu? this song? enemies to lovers? i think you just sent me to heaven. i don't think you understand how hard i'm geeking right now. i keep whisper screaming "YOU'RE A GENIUS". and thank you!

content. rich boy!miya atsumu x fem!reader, atsumu’s lowkey a downbad loser, tension (at least i hope it is) | wc. 905

atsumu thinks he's hot shit. you know of plenty of guys his type. how could you not? your school is full of them. they think their good looks and endless pockets let them get away with anything. there’s so many of them, but out of all of them, the one you despise the most is atsumu.

you’ve never met someone with an ego so inflated that it rivaled the size of earth. there’s no one who makes you want to tear out your own nerves out more than him.

atsumu is well-aware that you loathe him. he hates you just as much, but instead of ignoring you like a normal person does, he discovers new ways to tick you off. he's like a bacteria who's always finding a way to invade your system.

and now you’re stuck with this damn vermin in a tight, janitorial closet, and it’s his fault.

“be honest. are you an imbecile? like were you dropped as a baby? how do you miss the sign that said, ‘lock broken. leave door open if inside.’?” you fume in the dark.

“do ya ever shut yer mouth?” you don’t need to see atsumu to visualize the harsh glare he has. you can hear his hands fumbling around, searching for any kind of light switch.

you scoff. “oh that’s loaded coming for you. thanks to you, we’re missing class right now!”

at that moment, you hear a click, and a warm light fills the room. you never realized how close atsumu actually was. his body is nearly pressed against yours, his arm hanging above from when he pulled the cord of the light bulb down.

atsumu’s eyes are just as wide as yours, and he backs up, even if it’s only a mere step before his back crashes into a shelf of cleaning supplies that clatter upon contact.

you wince. “do i repulse you that much?”

atsumu doesn’t give you the grace of responding, narrowing his eyes at you as straightens his back, rolling back his shoulders in the limited space he has. when he loosens the tie of his school uniform, you stare at the hand tugging it down, veins prominent on his skin.

the action was… hot… to say the least. your hand twitches like it wants to slap you for ever thinking that.

“you don’t.”

“what?”

atsumu looks annoyed at the fact that he has to repeat himself but he does anyway. “you don’t… repulse me.”

“not true. you actively try to make my life hell every single day. no sane person does that unless they absolutely despise someone.” you correct, chuckling without humor.

“i…” the sentence crumbles in his throat. you see a blush creep up on his neck. the rosy pink reaches the tips of his ears. he turns his head away as if he were ashamed.

you laugh. now this is a sight, miya atsumu actually being embarrassed. you want to push this, see how far you can go.

“what is it, miya?” you tease, taking a step closer to invade his space. “cat got your tongue?”

atsumu backs up even further into the shelves. you’re sure it’s digging into his back. he gulps at the sight of you.

“do i make you nervous?” you trail your finger on his tie. atsumu follows the motion until it leads his back up to your eyes.

he burns a brighter red. “like hell i do.”

it hits you then.

oh.

oh.

“you hate me.” you breathe out in a whisper. “and you like me.”

atsumu tenses like you just caught him in an act, like you just announced it to the entire freaking world. you wrap your hand around his loose tie. once. twice.

“you’re so pathetic.”

it’s the last thing you utter before you’re tugging him by his tie, pressing your lips to his. atsumu’s reaction is immediate, resting his hands on your hips, bunching up the skirt of your uniform.

he wants more. you can sense it by the way his hands are slipping down to your thighs, and because of it, you pull away. atsumu chases after your lips, but you slightly pull your head back. you see the annoyance in his eyes.

you pull him again by his tie again, this time bringing his ear by your mouth. “don’t get it twisted, miya. you still piss me off, but i’m a firm believer of thinking that things can change. you want me? work for it. earn it. ‘cause the way you are now you’re still a long way from having me.”

the door to the closet swings open suddenly, flooding the room with a light brighter than the one shining over your heads.

“damn kids,” the janitor grumbles. “what the hell are you doing in here? you’re here at best school in the country and don’t know how to read, even skipping class. unbelievable.”

you smile, unraveling your hand from atsumu’s tie. “sorry for the inconvenience, sir. my friend here will pay you for the trouble we caused. consider it a token of appreciation for keeping our prestigious school so clean and beautiful, if you know what i mean.”

the janitor is practically bubbling with joy the moment he comprehends the meaning behind your words. atsumu glares at you like you’re unbelievable. you only wink, waving goodbye and blowing a kiss as you saunter down the hall, the fire of atsumu’s lips still lingering on yours.

[yearsbecomingcool]

nice guys finish last | daniel markowitz 18+

donate to gaza here | masterlist | part 1

pairing | daniel markowitz x f!reader

synopsis | you see how long danny can really last.

warnings | f!reader, sexual context, mentions of premature ejaculation, subby!danny, dom!reader, handjobs, degradation, titty worship, nipple play, & edging.

word count | 1.6k

a/n | if writing submissive men is wrong i don't want to be right. this was so fun to work on, it's been a long time since i've written any smut involving men so this was a bit of a challenge, but a fun one nonetheless. i'm trying to figure out which other character's of fred's i want to write for so if y'all have any requests pls share, i am a deeply indecisive person. also!! if you'd like to be on my taglist for future fics let me know!!

You’re sitting on Danny’s lap as he hangs his head in embarrassment. He can’t believe he just came in his pants from making out and grinding. He feels like a teenager again in the worst way possible. He gathers himself enough to speak, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off, cupping his face in your hands, “Hey. It’s okay, I’m not upset.”

“It’s just…it’s so fucking humiliating,” he whines. 

“Why? Danny…it was hot.”

He looks up at you, a bit confused. “What? I came in my fucking pants like- like a teenager. That’s embarrassing!”

“To you maybe. I don’t know…I liked it. It’s cute, I didn’t know I got you worked up like that,” you giggle, playing with his hair. 

“Cute? You’re messing with me, there’s no way you thought that was cute.”

You shake your head, “Some girls are into it y’know, I am at least. Makes me feel good to know that all I had to do was kiss you and dry hump you. Makes me think about how you’d react if I actually got my hands on you.”

“You want to touch me?” He asks it as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“Did you think I was grinding on you for shits and giggles?”

He blushes bright red, “I just…didn’t want to assume anything. I-I don’t know.”

“You’re fucking adorable, truly.” 

You cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Danny, let me make this clear. I want to touch you, I think you’re attractive, I’ve been into you for years. Fuck whatever insecure thoughts are running through that head of yours, okay? It’s hot that you just came in your pants like that, I wanna see how long you’d last if I touched you for real if you’d let me.” 

He wets his lower lip with his tongue and nods his head. “Please…” It comes out small and pathetic. He winces as he hears it leave his lips. 

“Please what? Tell me what you want me to do, Danny.” You straddle his lap again, thighs on either side of him. Your hand goes down to his belt. “I can’t give you what you need if you don’t ask for it.” 

He throws his back against the couch, whining pathetically, his hips rolling up against yours. You reach down to pin his hips to the couch, “Be a good boy and use your words.” 

“God…you’re really gonna make me?” He asks breathlessly. 

“I mean unless you want to go off into my bathroom and try to get yourself off, then yeah, you’re gonna ask for it.” He’s only seen this side of you a couple times in his life and every single time he’s crumbled beneath your feet, ready to do whatever you ask of him. With other girls he’s been the one to take charge, but as you order him around he can’t help but melt and bend to your will. 

He closes his eyes and sighs, “Please…please touch me. I need it so bad.” 

His pleas are music to your ears. You smile down at his lap and start to undo his belt, pulling it off and throwing it to the side. You lean forward and start to kiss his neck while you undo his pants. You don’t pull his cock out immediately, you’re gonna tease him first.

“Let’s make a deal, yeah? You hold off on coming till I give you permission and I’ll let you suck my tits. How does that sound to you?” 

He opens his eyes, glancing down at you hungrily. “I-I just have to hold it till you say?”

“Mhm, that’s all I need from you, pretty boy.”

“Fuck it, yeah, deal.”

You chuckle against his neck, your hand trailing down to his crotch. You begin to palm him through his underwear, whimpers falling from his lips almost instantly. “I knew that would work, fucking perv. Did you think I’d forget every time you’d look at my tits in my bikinis? You looked at me like you wanted to eat me, just wanted to bury your face in ‘em, hm?”

“Oh fuck me…” He mutters, his hips bucking up towards your palm, desperate for something more. “You noticed?”

“Danny, you’re as subtle as a brick through a window. You could’ve burned holes through them if you tried hard enough,” you laugh. You squeeze him through his underwear and his eyes shoot open like he was just given a shot of adrenaline. He whines so pathetically that you can’t help but smirk, “So sensitive…” 

“I can’t help it…I haven’t been with anyone since Allie,” he mumbles. 

“Forget about her, okay? I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Promise.”

You tug his briefs down, his cock springing free. “You were hiding this from me this whole time? Allie was a lucky girl,” you chuckle, biting your lip as you look down at it. You hold your palm up to his mouth, “Spit.” 

“You want me to spit on it, shouldn’t you do that?”

“Sorry, should I just dip your dick in your Dr. Pepper?” You ask sarcastically.

“Please don’t.” He leans forward and spits into your palm obediently. 

“Atta boy.” You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it at a slow teasing pace.

He mewls at your touch, his head falling forward against your neck. He places soft kisses starting at your ear, trailing down to your collarbone. He keeps his hands to himself as best he can, gripping your waist. “Can’t believe this is real…” He mumbles against your skin. 

“How many times did you touch yourself thinking of me, Danny?” 

He whines, “So many times. I felt so guilty every time, just couldn’t get you out of my head. Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He begins suckling marks into your delicate skin, you whine as you get him off. 

You pick up the pace, watching how his body reacts to your touch. Part of you is shocked he’s held it this long after how quickly he came before. “Pervy boy…getting off to your best friend like that, should fucking punish you for it. Do you even deserve to cum again tonight?” You’re teasing, of course you’ll let him cum, you’re not cruel. It’s just way more fun to watch him squirm. 

“Please, please, I’m sorry! I-I just…you-”

“Hm, shut up. Fuck the deal, gonna give you what you need.” You tug your shirt down with one hand, your bra exposed. “Don’t make me do all the work here, it’s not gonna suck itself.”

He reaches forward to tug your bra down as well, he starts to kiss down from your collarbone to your breasts. He leaves marks every now and then, leaving a dark trail you know will leave you wearing turtlenecks for at least a week. He spends his time marking you up, he’s wanted to do it for years. He reaches up for your nipple, rolling it between his fingers, eliciting a whine from you. He smirks as if he’s won, you squeeze his cock softly to remind him who’s in charge. He lets out a strangled yelp and bucks up into your hand. He takes your nipple into his mouth, suckling at it as he moves his hand to tweak the other. You pick up your pace, muttering a mix of praise and degradation.

“Pretty fucking boy, you’re so good for me. Bet you spent so much time fucking your hand imagining doing this to me, hm? Bet you felt so guilty seeing me after, poor baby couldn’t get me out of his head. You’re doing better than I thought, didn’t know you could handle a pretty girl's hand around your cock. Could barely handle a kiss before.” You laugh as he suckles at you.

He’s practically fucking your hand at this point, bucking his hips pathetically. You squeeze your hand around his cock, stroking him and keeping the pace of his thrusts. His eyes squeeze shut and he moves his mouth to your other nipple, whining against your skin as he feels himself getting closer. He suckles harder, causing you to wince at the slight pain. You tangle a hand in his hair, pulling his face flush against your breast. He lets out a strangle moan and spills his seed against your lap and into your palm. As he comes down he suckles at your breast as if he’s soothing himself. 

He finally pulls away, breathing heavily. You bring your fingers to his mouth, “Clean ‘em up for me?” I ask. He brings your fingers into his mouth, sucking till they’re clean. You pull them from his mouth, wiping them against his t-shirt. You grab his chin and lift his head, you smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. “You’re so fucking hot.”

He grins bashfully, leaning his head back against the couch. “I didn’t know you could be so mean…or that I’d like it so much.” He lifts his hand, trailing his fingers over the marks he left on you. He looks proud of them.

“You owe me a turtleneck for these y’know, we’re lucky it’s winter.” 

“Hm you could just show ‘em off instead. Let everyone know I left ‘em there,” he numbles.

“Who knew you could be so possessive,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“Look at you, if I don’t leave a mark I’ll never get another chance.” He sounds sad.

“You’re going to get many other chances, the night’s still young, I haven’t come yet…and tomorrow I might wanna wake up with a pretty boy between my thighs,” you tease, stroking his hair gently. 

“Fuck…I feel like I need to clean you up instead. Another round in the bath maybe? Your hot water got fixed, right?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, fucking finally. C’mon, I think you owe me an orgasm or two.”

[endearng]

[bonus blurb] hotch!reader helps spencer sober up. warnings: alcohol consumption.

not proofread, darlings. enjoy <3

The team was out, in a bar, after a successful case — you had gone straight home, desperate to wash off the remnants of the last city and precinct you've been to. Derek, though, thought it was going to be funny to get the rookie, Spencer Reid, drunk. 23 year-old Spencer Reid, who had never drank more than three shots because his head got too heavy for his liking. You were home, watching TV and happy to be in your place, having rejected Morgan's invitation, not really in the mood for drinking or the noisy place. Two messages made your phone buzz.

[9:12 p.m.] Hiello! Why aren't you here? Everybody's here. - SR

[9:12 p.m.] Derek and I are playing a game.

Oh, hell, no. Playing a game with Derek? And no signature?

Oh, hell, no.

Grabbing your keys and your wallet, you left your apartment. You looked nothing like usual, wearing jeans, a plain t-shirt and a pair of Converse. Pairing that with a jeans jacket, you looked like a teenager. You drove your way to the bar and if the security hadn't seen you parking (which you hated, but tried to do it perfectly), he would've probably asked you for an ID. Upon entering the place, you spotted Penelope, ogling Derek shamelessly.

"Oi, Penelope." You greeted her, who angled her neck so you got out of her way, not willing to let you interrupt her ogling. "Where is Spencer?"

"Hi. What, did you join Panic! At the Disco or something?" She teased, looking at your outfit. "I must say, your dad won't like the switch of careers."

You smirked in response. She shaked her head, laughing and leaning back on her seat. "Come on, where is him?"

"That one over there?"

Spencer was surrounded by people, chatting excitedly with strangers. You found it... odd. To say the least. It took him three weeks to be able to look you in the eye properly and not stutter when you were around — composed as ever, he kept digging himself a deeper hole when he embarrassed himself further and further when you were around. You brushed it off, thinking it had to do with pressure he was under, all the genius, overachiever thing going on for him. You truly didn't mind. You wanted to be his friend, because he was the only one around your age in the BAU. It was like being a kid, all over again, and your father took you to dinners over at friends. You searched for any kids in the room. You often weren't lucky.

Approaching Spencer, having the actual need to excuse yourself past people, you finally spotted him, a bottle of beer in his hands. Huh, unusual. He was entertaining people, reciting quotes perfectly from whatever show or book he could think about and was requested to. You rolled his eyes, he didn't even noticed your presence with how much passion he was speaking. You grasped his hand abruptly, but the softness that he felt was what made him stop dead on his speech. Suddenly, his tongue felt like twisting inside his mouth. Upon searching the owner of the hand, he spotted you. He couldn't stop his excitement and the big grin spreading on his face when he recognized you. "You came! You're... you're here!"

"I am."

"I can't—hic—believe it!"

You didn't spare a glance at those around him, dragging him across the bar to sit him down. Maybe you had been rude. You'd think about that later.

"Are you okay, Spence?" You ask.

"F—fiiiiiine!" He answers, giddily. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Why did you drink so much?"

"Five. Shots, I mean. Approximately 44 milliliters each."

"That is not what I asked." You said, taking the beer bottle from his hand. "Why did you drink so much, hm?"

"I... I dunno," now, out of public speaker mode, Spencer was slurring his words slightly, "Morgan said that I—hic—I needed to unwind and, and... he kept, just... cheeeering..."

You rolled your eyes at that. You were so gonna kill Morgan. First, you hated drunk people and how all over the place they were and how they needed to be cared for. Not Spencer, though. No, never Spencer. Sighing, you mutter, "Stay here, okay?"

"Okay."

It's not like he could walk, anyway. His legs felt heavy and wobbly. As the alcohol ran through his veins, he felt hot, sweaty, desperate to remove his clothes, that were starting to bother him. His brain was also turned into mush, he was so relaxed, but he wanted to talk. To you, that is. And he couldn't because his tongue was tied and he preferred to blame it on the alcohol and not in the way you were so casually dressed, so out of your persona, so close to him.

Close. Closer. The closest you've ever been.

Close, but never enough.

You reached him again holding a bottle of water in your hand. You twisted the cap open and poured the liquid into a small disposable cup the bartender had given you. "Drink it."

"Thank—Thanks." He muttered quietly, holding the cup and drinking it. His actions felt so numb, and he was scared to embarrass himself in front of you. Suddenly, he felt so small. As he downed the water, he couldn't help but ask, "Am... I am making a fool of myself, aren't I?"

You sighed. Spencer could swear that he could feel your eyes soften at him. No. It was the alcohol. Sure, it was the alcohol. "No, Spence... Don't worry. Just drink the water, please."

He drank it again as you poured him some more. "That is not how you unwind, okay?" You muttered.

"I... I'm realizing that now." He chuckled, embarrassed. Spencer felt better after drinking water. "How do I, uh, how do I look now?" He asked, trying to zero his eyes on you.

You snorted. "Drunk."

"Oh, God... you... you're going to remember this, aren't you? How drunk and—and, and how pathetic I am!" He asks, covering his face with his hand, the other still holding the disposable cup, trying to hide his reddened face. The last thing he wanted was you, the epitome of sobriety, to think any less of him.

"Don't worry. It's not my style." You revealed.

The corners of his mouth curled a bit at your words as he removed his hands from his face. "You're not?"

"I know these idiots will," you murmured, referring to the team, but looking at Derek, especifically. Turning to look at him, you tried your best to feature reassurance into your expression. "They have been in that state, too, at some point. Keep that in mind when they tease you about it."

"Yeah—hic—... I'm just..." he trailed off, closing his eyes softly. "Glad you're here with me."

You tensed, but hid it under a layer of sarcasm, "Yeah. You better be, since I'm not shoving alcohol down your throat."

He snickered, and the sound made your heart flutter and all the annoyance (at Derek, of course) leave your body. Spencer felt like the barrier between daring honesty and acceptable words was as thin as hair width. "You... you're here. Taking care of me."

"Yeah, yeah." You said, looking away, trying not to give his words importance. He was drunk, after all.

Spencer took some time to study your features. The soft skin, the color of your eyes and the color of your lips, the tip of your nose. He fought the urge to plant a kiss on your cheek... It just looked so... inviting. The way your face look under the bar dim lights. He fought, struggled, warred against the urge to touch your skin, in any way he could. With his hand, through a graze of his arm against yours, with his lips...

Inside your head, you warred against the questions swimming in your head. About him. All about him. You decided to be subtle, instead. "Do you have anyone I could call, Reid? A roommate? A girlfriend?"

Spencer spluttered, face beet red. "N-no... No... No roommate or... or girlfriend," he said. You were selfish enough to feel relieved. "I live—hic—on my own."

"Do you need me to drive you home, then? I won't let you drink anything other than water."

His cheeks flushed even more at the appealing thought of you driving him home and he giddily nods, not trusting his mouth to speak properly without pulling you in to cover your face in kisses. The thought of him, in your car, engulfed by your smell, as well as the thought of you, in his apartment, surrounded by his stuff, was so... fitting. So, so right.

Spencer stumbled a bit to rise to his feet, tentatively leaning on you for support. It wasn't necessary, but he thought it was a nice, indulgent excuse enough to be close to you. So close he could smell your shampoo and perfume. So close he could count your eyelashes if his vision wasn't so blurry. He leaned on you, heavily, and it surprised you that he was so light despite his tall frame.

The air outside was cold. As you walked to your car, you helped Spencer get on the passenger seat. Texting Garcia quickly that you would be driving him home so they wouldn't worry (not that you think they'd notice), you sat on the driver's seat, buckling your belt. Spencer was quiet all the way there, and you made sure to drive slowly to avoid him feeling nauseous. "You still live over there, right?" You asked, pointing foward with your finger, hands not leaving the steering wheel.

Spencer, focusing on not losing his mind with being so close to and alone with you nor throwing up in your car, nodded, now aware of his surroundings. "Yeah, yeah. But... how do you—how do you know it?"

"You mentioned it once."

His heart skipped a bit and he had to turn his head to the window to hide the smile creeping up on his face. You remembered something he had said. About himself. Nothing could ever beat that. He fidgeted slightly in his seat, his long fingers tapping against his knee as he looked out the window as he contemplated getting drunk more often to be on the receiving end of your care. Stop it. Please. He tried to push these plaguing thoughts away, reminding himself that he was still a bit drunk, so, definitely not in the best state of mind. But the way you had felt against him... The heat of your body, your scent...

He would think about that forever.

"We're here." You announced as the car came to a halt.

Spencer fumbled to remove his seatbelt, his trembling hands struggling to have a good grasp on the device. You watched it curiously and you fight the urge to smile or tease him about it. No, you would keep that image to yourself, as selfish as it sounds. Finally, he got it, and awkwardly looked at you, as if he didn't want to leave just yet. "Well, then, this is... this is it." He announced.

"Come on, I'll help you up. Don't want you to fall down the stairs and die."

Before he could react to your deadpan, you dashed out the car to open his door and help him out. He leaned on you, a lot less than he did at the bar, seemingly too aware of your figure against his. As he made his way up the stairs (the elevator was out of service, again, and those stairs were a total nightmare), he tripped over his feet a couple of times. Blushing, he mumbled out an apology. "I'm... not... not usually this uncoordinated."

"I know, Spence. Don't worry."

The young doctor felt a tinge of relief upon your words. You were so, so careful with him, and you weren't judging him for acting like an idiot who could hold in his alcohol. He relished in the feeling of having you close to him, of having your undivided attention, solely on him. He was so, so happy and he mumbled a quiet "Thanks."

"Give me your keys," you asked as you reached his door. Your tone wasn't half as demanding as the words were.

The door swung open once you turned the knob, revealing a small, cozy apartment. Spencer's belongings could be seen everywhere, from books and papers to personal trinkets, and it was so... Spencer. Green walls, leather couch and dark furniture. It suited him. But the darkness was enough told you it wasn't just the absence of light that came with the nighttime. Barely kicking off his shoes, the young doctor flopped down on his couch, facedown. "Nuh-uh. You're going to take a shower. Trust me, you'll feel a lot better in the morning if you do."

"A-a shower?" He asked, sheepishly. The idea made him feel vulnerable.

"Yes, a shower. Or else you'll wake up all clammy and gross. You'll feel awful." You almost threatened. His face scrunched up in disgust as he looked up at you. You fought the urge to squish his cheeks and give him a kiss. No.

As Spencer made his way to the bathroom and you heard the water running, you took it upon yourself to find him something to wear. When you found his bedroom, you entered it. It was neatly organized and you almost giggled at how like him the space was. A bed with freshly washed sheets, a few books scattered on a study desk and a computer among them, a wooden bedside table with a framed picture of a younger version of him and an older blonde woman. You smiled softly. As you made your way to his wardrobe, you opened a drawer and found plain, simple clothes, which you couldn't help but find strange — it was so different from what you were used to see him styling. You looked down at yourself. You wanted him to be different tonight, too. You traced the edges of the flawlessly folded clothes, picking out a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt for him to wear. You left the bedroom, going to the kitchen and filling out a glass of water.

You heard him padding to his bedroom quietly, figuring that he would keep pills in the bathroom. Going over there, you could smell the faint fragrance of his body wash, which brought a giddy smile to your face. You shook your head, searching for painkillers. Upon going to his bedroom to give them the medicine you found him fast asleep, so you placed the water and the pills on his bedside table. Your hands itched, and you couldn't fight it anymore, so you let yourself tuck away a strand of hair that was falling on his forehead. Smiling softly, you left a small note with his hangover kit.

Locked your door for you. - Hotchner

Spencer froze on the spot as he felt your fingers grazing his skin in the slightest. He heard your footsteps and when his front door locked, he sat on his bed at breakneck speed. Holding the slip of paper with the utmost care in the world, he giggled like a schoolboy with a crush. He laid back down, a soft grin on his lips as he held the note close to his face, sighing drunkenly, happily.

—

The next day, Spencer woke up feeling hot and clammy. It turns out that the clothes you had picked out for him were much too warm for him to spend the night after drinking that much — but he couldn't blame you for it. In fact, he was touched by your thoughtfulness and care. After drinking the pills (his head was thrumming, after all), he went to the bathroom to wash his face to go on about his day. As he checked his reflection, he found his name stained, faintly, into his cheek.

It felt fitting. It felt right.

Spencer was yours, after all. Always has been.

☆

same couple from this one-shot

[igotanidea]

Penguin shaped walker: Dick Grayson x reader

summary/request: Dick teaching clumsy!reader how to skate, making a show the moment she slipped out of his hand, rushing to save her from landing on her butt after some kids bumped into her.

by @animegirlfromvietnam - thank you, I had so much fun writitng it!! I added a litle something on the end to make it even cuter ;)

***

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain*

This was it.

This was the exact moment she was about to look into the face of a creator and be judged for her mortal life and her sins.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew When I bit off more than I could chew*

She had a good life. One filled with happiness and laughter and tears and regret, but a good life nonetheless.

For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught*

In the last blink of her consciousness she clearly saw Dick’s face right in front of her eyes and remembered the love they shared.

But now it was her time to go.

She spread her arms ready to be taken away from the terrestrial carcass of tears –

I did it my way!*

***

An hour earlier

“I’m telling you this is a bad idea. B-A-D.” she muttered, standing on the sidelines of the ice rink, arms crossed over her chest, hat crooked on her head and despite the pout and pursed lips she was looking quite adorable.

“Come on, hon, it’s not really that hard. You do know how to rollerblade right? This is practically the same!” Dick was doing his best to convince her to put on her skates and join him on the rink, but she was extremely stubborn. He should have known better after all she was his girlfriend and he had to face that persistence more than once.

“It’s completely different! For example when I rollerblade I am not prone to the risk of having my aorta cut with a blade from the skates!”

“Y/N-“

“No! I am not –“

“This is a kids’ rink.” Dick sighed heavily, honestly getting a little embarrassed himself.

“Is not! There are adults here as well!”

“Yes. There are. Like that father there, teaching his 2 year old how to slide.”

“So what?’ she scoffed

“So what? Well, so that in this scenario –“ Dick pointed out to her and then to him “I am the daddy and you are my two year old.”

“I’m not entirely sure if you were aiming at sounding dirty or did it just happen…”

“Sh. Later. Not in public. Now you come here-“

He lunged at her, taking her by complete surprise therefore also leaving her no room to fight against his iron grip as she found herself being dragged to the rink. And the only reason why she didn’t end up bruised from his hands on her waist (yet at least) was due to her puffy coat preventing any semi-permanent damage.

***

“Oh come on!”

“No!”

“Y/n, don’t be ridiculous!”

“I just want to be safe!” she clutched the edge of the railing, making poor attempts at sliding, tripping over her own skates over and over again.

“And you think you won’t be safe in my arms?” Dick tilted his head, smirking knowing well enough she walked right into the trap he set for here. There were no good answers to that question.

“Yes! I mean – no! I mean-“

“Hey, do you want me to get you a penguin?”

“A what now?”

“A penguin-“ he pointed towards the shed on the other side of the rink crowded with over a meter high plastic figures with handles. “Unless you want a dolphin? I can get you a dolphin babe. Just say a word and – “

“No! No, I don't want a penguin! Or a dolphin! I – “ she stopped, grinding her teeth at the sight of two 12-year-olds, showing off, doing some sort of pirouettes right beside her. And Y/N was absolutely sure  they stuck a tongue at her barely holding back from following those two and rubbing their ears.

“Whoa! Whoa! Hold where you are!” Dick quickly realized  what was happening (damn the vigilante instincts) and grabbed her from behind.

“They are - !”

“I know.”

“But it’s mean and-“

“I know, honey. 12 year olds are menaces today. Have you met my younger brother Damian, by any chance?”

“Hm? Oh wait, what? You have a brother? It’s news to me.”

“I bet it is. After all, it's not like you spent two hours last night picking chewing gum from your hair. And that wasn’t even the literal 12 year old but a mental one.”

“Don’t remind me…” she muttered, pulling the hat lower on her head.

“Hey, on the bright side, if you survived Jason and Damian, this little ice skating lesson will be a piece of cake”

“Hmpf.”

“Good girl.” Dick patted her head almost as if she was a dog. “Now, are you absolutely sure, you don’t want that walker?”

“No!”

“But it’s gonna be sad!”

“How old are you?! Dick! Dick, come back here, where are you going!? Damn you! Don’t leave me! Dick---!”

***

He did this on fucking purpose.

It was his plan all along. To humiliate her, taking pictures with his stupid laughing face on the foreground with Y/N clutching the sides of that silly smiley penguin, like her life depended on it.

Well – honestly – it did, because clearly her boyfriend, her protector, was more interested in faming on social media than on actually helping her.

Exposing her to the open ridicule of the entire group of 12 year olds, who weren’t even trying to hide the giggles.

Mean girls. And boys. Mean kids.

Maybe there was some movie potential in this.

“What are you staring at…” she muttered at the penguin, clearly already losing her mind. But hey, if nothing else worked she might try to get Dick’s attention by pretending to have to be admitted to the mental facility right. Talking not just to herself but to an inanimate object that were helping her stand, even if shakily.

“Hm? You were saying something?” Dick spun around, making a perfect backward circle around her only to spin around his axis and face her with a grin, not even breaking a sweat.

“Showoff…”

“This is where hard work takes you. Now. You two are making a great couple, I think I’m getting jealous with the way you treat this penguin like your support or something-“

“DICK!” whops. Yelling his name like that was probably a mistake and she instantly mouthed a sorry and sent an apologetic smile to the mom who covered her kid’s ears.

“Oh, okay, all right. I can’t believe you are forcing me to put my hands on you and actually help you.”

“Such a tragedy, isn’t it….”

“A Greek tragedy. I am doomed now.” He laughed, and grabbed her hand with one of his own, the other resting on her back as they slowly started making baby steps.

Or slides.

***

“See, I told you it’s not that hard. You are making quite a lot of progress here.”

“Well now that I think of it, it’s getting kind of fun and – don’t you dare let it get to your head!”

Dick raised his hands in the air in a sign of complete innocence, shaking his head.

She laughed.

And then they both realized something.

He raised his hands.

He raised his hands.

Both of them.

And that meant Y/N was deprived of the support she still so desperately needed.

And – life’s funny isn’t it – a few things happened almost at the same time.

She started losing balance and before he could even reach for her – and obviously his movements were the movie-worth slow motion that stupid bitch self-appointed star of the rink rushed at Y/N with a full speed.

In the last bright thought (or not) she grabbed the girl hoping for some grounding and regaining her composure but it was futile—

“DIIIIII—”

“Yyyyyy/Nnnnnn---” he yelled and for some reason that was also in slow motion, his face stretching in a comedy style, making him look like a cartoon bulldog.

But she was not in a position to laugh at the irony of the situation.

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain

Yeah, yeah, we know, we’ve already been there. She was about to meet the creator – blah, blah, blah…

Damn, girls can be so dramatic at times, don’t you think?

What?

Oh, sorry, I am breaking the fourth wall here, right, right, back to the story.

“I’m dying!”

“You are not dying Y/n!”

“I can’t see! I’m blinded!”

“You are staring right at the reflector, of course you can’t see.”

“I will never walk again--!”

“Of course you will walk again, come on. I caught you, feel this?” he grabbed her waist a little tighter so she would understand she didn’t actually bump her bottom on the ice. “Would you like me to squeeze something else to bring you back to reality?”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I told you, you were safe with me.”

“So I will walk again?”

“Yes you will most certainly walk again. After your ego is healed and –  Ouch! Why?!”

“for laughing at me!” she whacked his arm again. “I’ll kiss you later when we’re alone.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. And now-“ she was about to stand up and try skating again when he noticed the girl who purposely bumped into her staring at the whole scene with wide eyes and immediately changed her plan.  “Ouch! Ouch! It hurts!” she dramatically fell right back into Dick’s arms.

“What? But you said-“

“OUCCCHH!”

“Y/N! What is going on, you didn’t fall, I don’t understand-“

“Come on, you fool, work with me here!” she hissed quietly, pointing at the girl

“You are one cruel woman, you know that? Scaring the kid like that?”

“Like you never played pranks on Damian-“

“This is different. Damian is my brother, older ones are supposed to harden the younger-“

‘He’s an assassin-“

“And yet, he has no idea about the complexity of real life and-“

“Excuse me….”

They both snapped at the sound of a soft, quiet voice and a tugging at the edge of Dick’s coat.

“Hey there.” Dick smiled encouragingly and Y/N noted to strangle him for the innate golden retriever attitude.

“Is she okay?’ the girl asked

“I think she’ll live and – “

“I’M DYING!”

“Will you stop this Y/N?”

“But-“

“I’m sorry!” The girl clutched Dick’s coat a little tighter instinctively knowing that if anyone could be her hero in this moment it was the big smiling guy. “I really am, I didn’t mean to bump into you and-“

“You were laughing at me! You and your friends!”

“Yes but – but – it was not a mean laugh. I swear, you just looked so funny and nice sliding with that walker. Like you two were just good spending time together.  And I’m not really used to old girls looking funny. Most of the ones I know just tell me to piss off and-“ the girl looked down “I’m sorry.”

“Oh you poor thing.” Y/N jumped out of Dick;s arms and kneeled to look at the girl’s face, letting go of the fact she was just called old. “It’s fine. You are forgiven. And trust me, there are plenty of mature girls, who are still funny. You should meet my friend Stephanie, that one is a jokester-“

***

“And I just really don’t know if he likes me or not-“

“Well it depends. You’re 12, right? Boys this age can be really tricky to read, unable to express their own emotions. Now tell me about that Alex girl again-“

Dick was smiling so widely, that his lips would probably end up being numb the other day.

Somehow the three of them ended up in a nearby café, each with a cup of hot cocoa in hands, while the girls were just talking and talking and talking.

Seemed like Abby was not really a mean girl, more like underestimated, omitted and a little shy one who didn’t have anyone to talk to about girl’s stuff.

Almost like someone else Dick knew and the realization made him let out a chuckle.

“What?” both Y/n and Abby looked at him, tilting their heads to the sides, narrowing eyes a little, curiosity filling their gazes.

“Nothing, nothing. Just remembered I still got those photos on my phone.”

“Mh. Sure, sure, you can tag me, I allow you.”

“Huh! As if your consent was the only thing stopping me from posting them.”

Y/N reached for her own phone and without warning snapped a photo of Dick, who was completely unaware that the foam from the cocoa reached his nose hanging there as if he just snorted.

“NOoooooo!”

Abby laughed.

“You two are funny. Really funny. I didn’t know adults could be that funny. But it seems like you two like it like this? You like each other?”

“You have no idea, kiddo. We like each other. Very, very much so.” Dick grinned and started placing little kisses on the side of Y/N’s face. “Very much indeed.”

Seven years later

"Keep holding her, Dick!"

"I am holding her!" he responded with a laugh, grabbing their little daugher a little tighter, so she wouldn't trip over her little legs that were more dangling in the air, rather than touching the ice.

"Daddy! daddy, put me down!" the five year old girl cried out "I want to skate! I want to be as good as you and mommy!"

"Oh honey, if you only knew-" Dick laughed, remembering all the time it took for Y/N to actually learn.

"Hush! Hush both of you! I'm gonna go grab a walker for you, kiddo."

There he was.

Standing in the same place, almost as if waiting just for her, still with the same smile that wasn't wiped out even after all these years and after all those little and big hands clutching him.

"Hello friend." she smiled "wanna go another round?"

*lyrics of the songs "My way" by Frank Sinatra.

[slitheringghost]

What are your biggest pet peeves in fics

My biggest pet peeve is, hands down, fandom’s portrayal of the first war, which is almost never portrayed as violent and terrible as the details we get about it in canon. Most importantly:

The First War started in 1970.

Not 1975 or 1976. Certainly not 1978. 1970. This means the war was raging the entire time the Marauders were at Hogwarts, and that they entered Hogwarts a year into the war. It lasted 11 whole years. The whole point is that the First War was much worse than the Second War.

I’ve seen people say things like “The Marauders era is boring because nothing really happens until their later years until the war starts and/or heats up” and say it like it’s complete fact and not something fans completely made up. The idea that the war only “heats up” after Snape’s Worst Memory is so universally accepted despite all evidence to the contrary.

(I’ve also seen claims that the only murders/war crimes committed during the first war were the few explicitly named in the text, which is, again… truly embarrassing analysis.)

The reason fandom has come up with this narrative is entirely to fit the Snape vs. Marauders “bullying” angle. It usually goes like this: Sirius and James were bullies for 5 years, until - conveniently and magically - the war started to “heat up” and get more serious 6th year or sometimes 7th year and therefore they matured (especially James, though the idea of Sirius maturing after the Prank is also common in fic). It provides a neat little coming of age arc for the Marauders, one that does not actually exist in canon.

Because, believe it or not, Voldemort was not going to adjust the trajectory of his war to fit this narrative.

On the pro-Marauders side who still see them as bullies, the fandom can’t reconcile the idea of the war being serious and the Marauders not being serious about it and instead spending their time bullying others. But the war was already heated up, and the Marauders were already serious about the war by SWM - because the Marauders attacks on Snape and others was them being serious about the war, because it wasn’t bullying, it was vigilante justice.

On the Snape fan side, to portray Snape as a victim of bullying, they have to pretend that he's the only person capable of being victimized in the whole entire wizarding world, and people actually being murdered and tortured conflicts with that narrative.

I can buy that the war took a few years to heat up, I doubt it went to daily murders and tortures immediately, but I think a war would not take 6-7 years to escalate. I would guess it heated up sometime the Marauders 2nd year or 3rd year, at latest.

(I often see so many Order deaths happening in late war, per Moody, used at evidence that the war only escalated then, but the Order is tiny and doesn’t represent the casualties in the rest of the population)

Evidence towards the fact that the war was very heated up already by the time of SWM is that Lily calls Voldemort “You Know Who” in her conversation with Snape outside the Gryffindor common room - which means that by that time Voldemort has spread enough terror that people are afraid to say his name.

Also, remember this is already a very violent society. The fact that some pureblood families murder Muggles for fun (Muggle hunting) is apparently an open secret, they murder house elves, and I’ve said before that I think pureblood society practices honor killings which are at least somewhat legally sanctioned (i.e. Merope’s situation).

So a few occasional murders is not going to shake them and is not what this society is going to consider a war.

More evidence is how much the violence has escalated at Hogwarts. Death Eater students are regularly and openly torturing students with Dark Magic "for a laugh" and not being expelled, which is something that doesn't even happen in canon era - the closest we get is Draco cursing Katie Bell by accident, during a specific secret mission, and unlike with Mulciber and Mary Macdonald, no one knows who the culprit even is, so they don’t have the option to expel him. Similarly we have Snape using Sectumsempra so often at Hogwarts that it became known as his specialty and not being expelled, despite it being a near-fatal torture curse.

This fic captures what the atmosphere at Hogwarts would’ve been like really well:

"Did that kind of thing happen a lot in Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, tone oddly flat. "In the seventies?"

“Yes," Sirius said after a long moment. "It did. There were times when it was pretty much open warfare in the halls and on the grounds, between the students everyone knew were on Voldemort's side and the ones who opposed him, or whose families did... I was talking to Pomfrey about it the other day, she says you lot get yourself hexed as often in a few months as our generation used to in a week. And people attacked pets or destroyed belongings all the time. It was one reason a lot of students hid being muggleborn."

There’s the inability to extrapolate from canon details, fandom often portraying the First War like it’s just 30 Death Eaters on one side and 20 Order members on the other.

For example, if a mere ~30 Death Eaters are already committing daily murders in HBP during the Second War, how much violence do you think an army of ~500+ DEs (Sirius says the DEs that came back in GoF is literally nothing to how large Voldemort’s armies were in the First War; Remus says the Order was outnumbered 20 to 1) was committing? Similarly, based on the statistics given in HBP (by February Ron says he’s literally lost count of how many students have lost relatives), by SWM a substantial amount of the student body would’ve had families murdered by Death Eaters (and therefore the students cheering James and Sirius on in SWM is obviously because they hate Snape for being a proto-Death Eater and not for being poor 🙄). There may have even been students themselves that were killed over breaks.

This lines up with Sirius's description of the war:

“You’re scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing... the Ministry of Magic’s in disarray, they don’t know what to do, they’re trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere... panic... confusion... that’s how it used to be."

There are lots of similar passages about the war, I’m not going to quote all of them, but I suggest people actually pay attention to those details, as well as stuff during the Second War that would apply to the first.

The same thing applies as fandom portraying teenage Death Eaters as only joining once they graduate, when canon indicates they would be Marked at 16, but that’s for another meta.

[dissociation-station123]

Chapter Five-Good for the Soul

Warning-Mention of a panic attack

Sylus’s POV

Sylus did not like owing anyone anything. His guilt of ignoring her while he was away on business gnawed at his psyche. The way she uttered not to do it again so feebly made him feel disgusted with himself.

He was being selfish. The fact he was so easily able to open up to her. Her clever intuition and ability to read him. To hang on to what she hears and figure things out. Reminding him a bit of himself. And he didn’t know how to react.

He owed her an apology and to gain back her trust. So he invited her into his world, a safe part of it at least. He felt anxious waiting for her to agree to meeting him at his Gym. And a bit happy when she finally agreed.

I’m here

Sylus smirks as he receives a text from her. The guilt of attempting to run strangely affected him more than he thought it would, especially after hearing her faltering voice when she said to not do this again. So he wanted to make it up to her somehow. She was a bit unconventional so showering her with random gifts didn’t feel quite right.

He saunters to the main doors and laughs to himself when he sees her pacing by the entrance, her anxiety on full display, her eyes scanning around the area cautiously. She wore a hoodie that seemed to swallow her whole and off brand yoga pants that cling to her well though very worn. Her hands twisted the strap of her backpack tightly. He scolded himself when the words endearing popped into his mind.

He rushes to usher her inside, “Get in quickly before someone calls the cops thinking you're up to no good.” He enjoys the glare he receives every time he teases her.

“I didn’t expect your gym to be in the ritzy end of town!” She shouts in frustration, uncomfortable with the spot he put her in. He understood the feeling but he masked it at all times, envious she wore it so openly.

He leads her further in, past the high end work out equipment and down a hall. “It’s one of the best ways to extort the rich. They join to fulfill some type of shallow goal and then forget they are even being charged after giving up.”

Her eyes glow with a devious expression, one he has grown to enjoy as much as when her eyebrows draw together induced by anger. “Fair enough.” She simply responds and he chuckles as they make their way to a large glass room, a well maintained boxing ring in the center.

“Wow!” She yelps in surprise, her eyes widening. She walks around taking in everything. “Do you have pros here?” She asks, looking toward him with interest. Always so willing to listen and understand.

“On occasion. The true champs train at my other location.” He replies, trying to maintain his facade of mystery. She rolls her eyes then and he tries not to laugh.

“So in the N109 zone then.” Always testing him, picking at his barrier for information. Never in a way where he feels she has bad intentions. Just the lack of knowing when not to pry too deep. He simply shrugs and she groans, she amuses him. Only one other person has elicited such a response from him before.

“Fine! Whatever! Let’s just do this.” She clumsily makes her way to the equipment and attempts to pick up a glove that definitely would not have fit.

He clicks his teeth as he dashes over to stop her. “Slow down Kit-“ That glare again when he mutters the nickname she hates. “Tiger… This is not quite the right one for you. Also need to stretch a bit before going all in.” She lets out a breath and returns the gloves to their designated place. “When was the last time you had a good workout?”

Her face turns at the question to avoid his eye line, she fidgets in embarrassment. “A while…” she mutters and he barely hears her answer. “Maybe never…” She crosses her arms and he feels his lips draw up in a

bright smile.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m honoured to be your first physical trainer.” He knows his tone is too seductive and braces when her arm reaches up to softly punch his shoulder. “See so much untapped potential.” She scoffs but he hears her tone shift to a more light hearted one.

He explains the first stretch and demonstrates. A slight groan escapes his lips as he moves and his muscles are stretched. He feels her gaze taking him in, trailing his entire body. He knows he is not playing fair by wearing gray sweatpants and a black compression shirt that exposed all his figure. “You get that sweetie. Let’s see it.” He looks over and sees her brain snap back to reality within a few seconds and she fumbles to reply. She is so much fun to tease.

She tries to mimic his movements but it’s messy. He goes to stop her but just as she leans her face scrunches in pain. He hisses as he sees her discomfort. He quickly walks to her side chastising, “Don’t attempt it if you truly don’t understand. It can be harmful done incorrectly. May I?” He hesitates to guide her, knowing she doesn't like to be touched. She nods and he feels a sense of pride that she trusts him even a little.

He frowns when he guides her by the shoulder, she holds so much tension. “I need you to take a breath for me. Relax your arms.” She winces but nods, he feels her inhale slowly. He takes hold of her arms, crossing them in front of her, tugging her close, ignoring the feeling of her pressed against him the best he can, her curves were soft. “You ok?” He feels her shiver slightly but she gives him another nod. She smells nice…

He swallows heavily but focuses on the task at hand, pulling her upward and lets out a relieved breath when her back pops in place. A soft gasp leaves her lips and he immediately releases her, “Feel better?” He asks, surprised his voice sounded a bit huskier than normal.

He watches her lift her arm and massage her neck. She turns with a wide grin, “Yeah! Ready to try that stretch again.” He returns her smile and shows her again, this time she pays close attention, following a long pretty well. After a few more he compliments her and she looks excitedly over at the ring. “Do I get to hit you now?”

He answers with a hearty laugh and they move over to the supplies. “Take off that huge hoodie.” He orders and she tilts her head, confusion on her features. “It will stifle your movements and you will overheat.”

She looks at him as if she is suspicious of his order. Yet she nods and clumsily removes the oversized clothing. A small glimpse of her flesh peaks out as her top lifts, Sylus looks away. Why did he do that?

“Ok now what?” She asks and he turns back, maintaining a flat expression. He feels a grin form as she attempts to figure out which glove works for her. He leans over her, grabbing the ones currently in her hand, towering over her figure easily.

“Not these. Here.” He reaches his body brushes lightly against hers as he takes another pair. She does not flinch this time, at his slight touch, he feels something then but ignores it. He backs away and motions for her to give him her hands. With a sense of excitement she does, he puts them on and she giggles. He laughs when she takes an awful and untrained stance punching at the air. “Not violent yet you seem so eager to punch me.”

“It’s stupid but when I was younger I always wanted to try and box. Just as a form of exercise. But classes were too expensive so it never happened. My parents never took my interest seriously and told me to focus on academics.” She shrugged as she watched him walk towards the ring. “Aren’t you going to put on gloves?”

“No need.” Instead he picks up a large pad and tosses it in the ring. “Ready?” She bounces on her toes and then rushes in, even though he lifts the ropes she still manages to trip. Yet he notices no matter how many times that happens she always manages to catch herself before falling completely.

He instructs her as she attempts to punch the pad. Sylus frowns at the weak pressure, as if she truly is not trying. He stops her and she looks up at him, “You can do better. Use your thighs, move with the swing.”

She does as he says but the power is still lacking. “You really didn’t want to hit me did you?” He complains softly and her face scrunches in a scowl but quickly falls flat.

“Honestly?” She says with a small smile, he disliked the sadness in her eyes. “Not really. I kind of just get over things ya know. Don’t want to cause any problems or unnecessary malice. Easier to move on and stick to myself.” A rage forms and it takes him by surprise. She has let others get away with too much, even himself. “I can take care of myself just fine.” She laughs and he returns it with a grin, he respects that about her.

“I’m not going to disagree. But trust me keeping that inside does not help. Let’s refocus. Think of someone you would like to, hypothetically of course…” He raises his brow and she gives a genuine smirk in return, “punch in the face. For all the anger you couldn’t let show. All the fear and pain that you felt.”

Her eyes glaze over for a second he almost rushes towards her, worried about how her posture alters. Before he could she takes a stance and looks up at him. The fire that greets him, he lets out a breath at how breathtaking it was. She nods in his direction and he fills a wicked grin form on his face, holding up the bag at the ready.

The first crossover was as weak as the originals but then she finds her footing, determined. A barrage of fists are released and he plants his foot to maintain his stance. There was the power she was holding back. He almost erupts in a villainous chuckle but holds it in as each blow pushes harder and harder, unrelenting.

Yet his pride suddenly turns to concern as pools of tears begin to form in her eyes. Losing the strength she simply refuses to stop swinging, he sees her emotions overtaking her like a tidal wave. He drops the bag to the floor, she does not stop her fist now messily colliding with his chest and waist.

He grabs her towards him, safely pulling them both down on the mat and cradling her close. He removes the gloves from her hands delicately. Her entire body is now tense and shaking, she curls her fingers into his shirt. “It’s ok, let it out. Don’t worry.” Sobbing uncontrollably, she fights him but it makes him tighten his grasp. “Nope, I need you to breathe for me.”

She hiccups and buries her face against him, still not wanting him to see her like this. He clicks his teeth, rubbing her back soothingly. “You are brave, enduring this alone.” This makes her sob harder against him, he runs through a wave of his own emotions as he attempts to calm her.

He feels better when she lets out a heaving breath. “Yes deep breaths, good girl.” He coaches her through the attack. Silence follows as she stills, and her breathing returns to normal. He attempts to wipe her tears away but she refuses to look up still.

“I’m fine.” She mutters and she moves away quickly. Still unable to accept what just happened, she hurriedly wipes her tears away herself with the back of her hand. “Thanks.” She is not too stubborn to admit that he helped.

“Why are you thanking me? It was a good spar. You have some fight in you after all.” Sylus chooses to play ignorant and she looks at him appreciatively. “Might even have what it takes to take on my pros!” He pats her head as he walks by to pick up the fighting bag.

“Sylus, please stop.” She laughs and he is happy to hear the joy in it. “I respect those that choose this lifestyle. It takes a lot out of you.” She stretches a bit and he smiles her way.

“You are a fighter in your own way.” He says sternly as she nods, “But your punches were pretty pathetic.” He watches her roll her eyes and pout a bit.

“Yeah yeah…” She grumbles her elbow lightly bumping into his side, back to her usual self. She looks up, “Thanks for today. I think I needed this.” Her features brighten and he looks away from her a strange tightness in his chest takes form.

Her stomach growls loudly interrupting the moment. “Don’t tell me you came to work out on an empty stomach?” He glares at her and she sheepishly bounces on her toes. He couldn’t stay upset with her. “Good thing I had a plan for food after this.”

Her eyes widened with excitement then she frowns, “Please don’t say a steakhouse. I’m not dressed for anything fancy.” She grumbles a bit and he finds himself laughing.

“A burger spot.” Her grin returns in an instant. “Famous spot in the N109 zone.” She pauses at his words, she knows this is a rarity. That he is allowing her into his life step by step, so fucking clever.

“Now your talking Sylus.” She rushes to put away the gloves, clumsily throwing on her hoodie, and grabbing her bag. “Let’s go!” She announces and he gladly follows.

As he locks the doors she says, “I am surprised you picked a burger spot.” He would have never made such a decision in the past. In fact he had to ask Luke and Kieran for a recommendation. When he did they teased him relentlessly.

“Someone once told me food like that is good for the soul. Think our souls need to be rejuvenated. Don‘t you?” He turns toward her and she furiously nods in agreement, everything she does is so damn endearing…

[briarscreek]

Mediaeval Prisoner!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley had another plight

he was homesick. that had been doctor laswell’s diagnosis when he couldn’t sleep for the fifth night in a row; eventually crashing in the middle of a training session. it was the most embarrassing thing he had done to date.

he realized in retrospect how easy it was for him to slip up. your growing confidence (that he indulged in sometimes), your wit, graves’ spontaneous entrance, right down to soap & gaz’s teasing in the letters. he didn’t realize how it all looked until you found them on his desk. this was the first battle he had ever lost; forced to run home with his tail between his legs.

now here he was, on bed rest again ordered by the king himself. he could see the stern look in his kings eyes, but one thing he couldn’t take was the pity in them too.

“you’re a right tosser, simon.”

“i know”

but simon wasn’t the only one who had an earful. doctor laswell had actually shouted at all four men for inadvertently toying with you. she had seen you grow up, endure harsh punishments with or for you during the failed conquerers reign.

she yelled at soap & gaz for their teasing.

she screamed at king price for rushing you through the ascension process (without her knowledge of it since she was busy treating soldiers with mild injuries still)

she lectured simon about how this wasn’t like him. simon was a fighter, through and through, yet he gave up on pursuing you at the first sign of trouble.

although she never hated them, everyone in the castle knew she became at least mildly annoyed with them.

during a recent council meeting, everyone had finished their opinions and delegated tasks when laswell spoke up.

“shouldn’t we host a liberation ball soon, your majesty?”

“that sounds like a wonderful idea doctor.”

“and we shall invite the new countess of whitegrave as well”

everyone had stilled, but not as harshly as simon had. the knife he was toying with in his hand slipped out and landed on the floor. his heart climbed through to his throat and he tried so hard not to let his eyes get misty with tears.

“i shall send the invitation at once.”

at the end of that sentence, every advisor stood and began to filter out of the room. simon lingered until he was eventually dismissed by his king. walking through a haze, he hadn’t even registered that someone had shoulder checked him into the library.

“quit being pitiful, simon.”

“doc? what are—“

“you failed your mission last time you saw her in unknown territory, correct?”

all he could do was scrunch his eyebrows together. what is she talking about? his mission?

“you battled something you’ve never had to before, that many face in new relationships. doubt.”

she was talking about you. how he hadn’t said a word. hadn’t quieted your new fears; or your old ones. emotions aren’t easy for him but completing a battle? finishing an excursion? that he could do.

he squared his shoulders and nodded his head.

“listen to me closely. i am risking my entire friendship with the countess to get her here. who i have seen grow up in terrible conditions and still make it through. just like you. but, it is up to you on how you show her your love for her. not with force and not with fear. show the depth of your affection, let her know that you are hers and no one else’s.”

“yes, commander”

“good. dismissed cadet.”

simon may have been forced into that library but it was lord riley who strode out. the confident, strong, and intelligent man that laswell had molded him to be before she became a doctor at her wife’s request.

he will show you he loves you. as for how, he figured the best plans happen at the spur of the moment.

<<PREVIOUS

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[gothamite-rambler]

Squid Games

Ra's Al Ghul: (stirring his tea) You know I've been watching that Korean show, Squid Games. Fantastic show! I enjoyed the first season, but haven't watched the second season yet.

Bruce instinctively put an arm protectively in front of Damian, his instincts kicking in.

Bruce: Fantastic how?

Ra's Al Ghul: The games they picked are interesting, I played a couple of them as a child myself-

Jason (raised eyebrow): When were you ever a child?

Ra's Al Ghul: When was the first time your died?

Jason nodded, chuckling dryly as he continued reading unbothered by the comment.

Ra's Al Ghul: Anyways, their version of hopscotch, but the floor is made of glass my favorite part. Then when Cho Sang-woo shoved the man off the platform because he was taking too long, I applauded. Underhanded, I like that. I like that character too.

The room fell silent, a heaviness settling in the air as the others exchanged worried glances. Except Damian who was used to this.

Bruce (suspicious): Like him how?

Ra's Al Ghul: He did whatever he could to win. And when the last game happened, he went out on his own terms... then Seong Gi-hun won, and I was disappointed.

Dick (raising an eyebrow): Cho killed himself at the end, how are you impressed by that?

Ra's Al Ghul: Because Gi-hun didn't have the spine to do it himself. Damn plot armor. Sang-woo should've won the contest and the money, but when he saw he was going to lose he went on his own terms and told the coward to check in on his mother. I love it.

Damian (crossing his arms): I’m honestly not surprised he respects the bad guy.

Ra's Al Ghul (raising an eyebrow): Sang-woo isn't a bad guy. He's a man who messed up his life and decided to regain that money. He wasn't going to give up. Real men die in battle.

Bruce (sarcastically): Then get tossed in a pit to live another day?

Ra's Al Ghul: Don't be jealous you'd lose in the second or third game. I would argue the true enemy was capitalism, the dangers of economic inequality, and the importance of empathy. I want to watch season two, but Gi-hun is going to be in that too.

Cass (tilting her head): So, wait, the show didn’t give you the awful idea to make your own Squid Games where you'd use ninjas, your family, and strangers to compete for money, and then toss all the dead people into the Lazarus Pit to make them your brainwashed soldiers?

Ra's Al Ghul (offended, eyes widening): What? No! I’m not evil! Morally ambiguous, yes, but I’m not setting up a game like that. Did everyone in this room think that lowly of me?

The others exchanged skeptical glances, all too aware of Ra's reputation. Tim finally chimed in.

Tim (shrugging): I mean, I just knew you’d favor the equally morally corrupt character over the main character or at least Sae-byeok.

Ra's Al Ghul (scoffing): That bent couldn’t handle a stab wound, and I don’t care for Gi-hun; he’s a deadbeat father.

Jason (smirking, while checking his phone): Yeah, yeah, you’re a much better father who lets their kids die and then tosses them in a Lazarus Pit.

Ra's Al Ghul (nodding seriously): Yes. He gets me.

Jason (grinning): Don’t include me in that. I don't think you'd have a Squid Games though; you'd do something much more nefarious.

Bruce kept his arm protectively in front of Damian, who nodded in understanding, clearly uneasy about the conversation.

Duke, silently polishing his new sword, finally spoke up, breaking the tense atmosphere.

Duke (curiously): Did you watch it with the original Korean actors' voices or the dub with American actors?

Ra's Al Ghul: The original voices, obviously. I can read the subtitles, but I also can speak Korean. Are there people who watched the one with those god-awful American actors?

Duke slowly turned to Tim and Stephanie, who looked embarrassed. Tim lowered his gaze, while Stephanie rolled her eyes, exasperated.

Stephanie (defensively): I'm not flipping reading the lines; I was raised with English-speaking people! I know Korean, but not as well as English! Dang.

Duke (smirking): For a demon, he knows what he’s talking about.

Ra's shrugged at the demon line, a hint of pride crossing his face.

Ra's Al Ghul: I'm a jack of all trades, master of everything.

[froggerland]

for the character asks: james (o:

First Impression: I am the sheep the show runners counted on with this one. Was annoyed at his cockyness and the way he treats Crozier (the """""main character""""") in the beginning (yes Crozier is very much flawed and we the audience are not meant to agree with everything he does and says (duh) but he is the only one who sees the whole mess coming so you're at least a little partial towards him. Anyways back to jfj). The dress scene is what made me go "oop? Okay we're getting freaky with gender I see???" That took him from diva to DIVA for me. Loved his further development, tearing down his facade of coolness when push comes to shove and the scurvy gets him. Cried a little when he died ngl

Impression Now: Mister Gender. Gender Fitzgender. Safe us Genderman. No fr I love him. The fandom has so many good memes about his cunty ass but he's also just,, so well written as a character and tmenzies really put his everything into this little guy. His whole arc over the series is so well done, dying at the end of the world really forces you to abandon all masks and all of your vanity. Him becoming brothers with Francis is actually so important to me, I'm a little mad that it happened so late in the show (if I had to critize anything about the terror it's that the last 3 episodes or so could have been stretched into 5, but I also think the whole show could've spanned 3 seasons instead of 1). It's like "are we brothers Francis?" "Okay :)" "Yay <3" and next thing you know Fitzie is lying on the gravel with his bloodshot eye and is dying. STILL I love his redemption arc if you can even call it that. His death will never not make me cry bc wtf who greenlit this I just want to talk :)

Favorite Moment: The dress scene. Basic pick but it's a classic for a reason. That's when I was like "okay the writers are actually very cool people" bc this scene (with him "trying on" the dress specifically) serves no real purpose, he could've been doing anything else and discover his bleeding hairline

Idea For A Story: Need to see him get up to shenanigans in high society. Seducing ppl at balls. Embarrassing himself at banquets. Secret dress try on in the hostesses quarters with drunk Dundy or something. Let him be silly and hot in uniforms and dresses

Unpopular Opinion: Are there any unpopular opinions about him?? I feel like everyone agrees he's a diva with so much gender point blank. I support women's rights AND wrongs. Sorry I can't come up with anything cool rn

Favorite Relationship: Fitzier baby. A classic for a reason. I love their slowburn forced proximity enemies to lovers arc (none of these words are in the bible but it captures the vibe I think) but I've also become fond of the disaster throuple of Fitzrossier (I need them to fight over Frauncis like a ragdoll)

Favorite Headcanon: RIP James Fitzjames you would've loved being a starlet in 1920s German expressionist movies (no idea where that came from it just spawned in my head literally 5 seconds ago)