#of course there's a bit more to it than that but the point here is that - accident or not - it still embarrasses lwj

[cathnospam]

(When Bakugo speaks and it’s italics it means he’s speaking in English and when you speak in italics it means you’re speaking Japanese.)

Everybody keeps wanting more of Bakugo and his Foreign GF with their language barrier so here:

When Bakugo first met you all those years ago it didn’t click immediately you couldn’t speak Japanese, all you did was understand a few phrases.

You both were doing Hero work in America and you never really spoke, just giving everybody smiles, waves, and nods, and so he thought you were mute for a moment.

“Do you speak or something? Why don’t you talk?”

When you gave him a confused look he kept yelling until you covered his mouth and typed: “I barely speak Japanese. Sorry.”

Being so naive if you knew him you wouldn’t have dared put your hand to his mouth, but surprisingly enough he didn’t mind it, he did grab your wrist after though. Which is why he took your phone and stored his number in there stating if you want to speak to him (Because of course you would he’s Bakugo the future #5 hero in Japan) then text him.

Weird. Very weird guy.

Eventually he started to approach you more, forgetting you can’t speak his language so he either points or texts you.

He was only in the States for a few more days, but he managed to make some progress getting to know you even with the difficulties behind it.

He did however managed to learn a couple new words for you.

“Hungry.”

“What?”

He smacks his face and points across the street to a restaurant, “Food.”

“Oh!” You giggle at his accent, “Yes we can go to the restaurant.”

“Rest…taurant…tcht…..stupid.”

Bakugo became a decent learner, English was hard as hell to work on so most of it was broken, but when he got back to Japan you both had study lessons together through FaceTime and the few times a year when you visit.

He taught you Japanese and you taught him English.

Years later when you finally came to visit is when he decided to ask you out.

“Girlfriend….my girlfriend….or date —- I sound so fucking stupid trying to ask you out—whatever.”

“Are you …asking me out?”

The blondie was impressed by how fast you learned, seeing that you still struggled with verbs. Which he definitely clowned you for, but you didn’t have a clue about it.

He scoffs and nods reluctantly , somewhat jealous you don’t have too many complications with Japanese as much as he thought anymore.

“Date….later.”

You felt your cheeks get warm, it’s not like you didn’t expect it, considering how much touchier he’s gotten towards you since you got there and even during texting he throws in a few flirts and compliments, he wasn’t a bad guy what so ever so often course you say yes.

“How about 7pm tonight after class?”

“That’s my job to say the time!”

“Yeaaaahhh I still don’t understand what you said, but Immma assume from context you’re upset.”

He just blinks at you with a frustrated look, and his mouth in a straight line, only hearing the words, “Upset” and “What you said” being translated in his brain, when you speak english you sound like a sim.

His words by the way.

The thing about you not understanding Japanese completely is that there were so many times through out the date he would compliment you and say some of the most sweetest things that he knew you wouldn’t understand.

“You look stunning in that dress.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your smile is gorgeous.”

“All I understood was smile. You want me to smile more?”

“No!”

He managed to get away with a lot. And so did you.

The first date you both had went more than perfect, it was cute because there was still moments where you and him managed to practice different words to each other. He spoke in broken English to show you how to eat Pho and you spoke Japanese to order your own food.

He was a bit proud to say the least.

When the date had to come to its sad close he walked you back to your hotel, you wanted to invite him back, seeing as you clearly felt a connection from him not just as a friend, but maybe more however you didn’t want him to think you were easy.

Not that he would’ve thought so anyways he was hoping you would invite him back.

Bakugo looked at you expectantly when you unlocked your door, almost as if he was waiting to hear something he probably wouldn’t even comprehend. Instead though you give him something better first when you place your lips on his, “That is what you call a kiss.”

“Kiss.” He repeats, accent still thick and raspy, his hand rubbing your waist, your body being ever pled by his natural warmth, “Kiss…me…more.”

Giggling you do so, which did indeed lead to you inviting him back to your room for learning more about these kisses he loves so damn much now.

[salthusiast]

Who you truly are

Viltrumite Mark x Female Reader

Summary: When the Invincible variants arrived on Earth, you never expected to get involved. It’s not like you knew Invincible personally. What you didn’t know was that you’d ended up housing one of these variants, and you didn’t know for weeks. Basically Viltrumite Mark pretends to be the Mark you know.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: None! Maybe some violence, but if you watched the show, it’s basically nothing. Maybe slight ooc? In my defense this guy is pretending to be another person though.

Quick A/N: Hey, this is actually my first post on Tumblr so sorry if the formatting is weird or anything. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 :D

Life was so much simpler when you didn’t know. Who knew that in a singular month, your life would change so much? You could lie and say that you expected it to happen, but again that'd be a lie. Hell, even now you can barely believe the course of events that went down.

Sometimes you think about how many others got hurt during the war and its aftermath. You were so oblivious. You think about how he spared you like he did.

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

“Mark! Eve!” You call out, waving your hand to your friends across the hallway. Mark stops in his tracks, along with Eve.

Mark is more of your friend than Eve is, but you get along with her well. You walk purposefully to Mark, feeling like he may disappear if you take too long to get to him. It seems like he disappears all the time now.

“I haven’t seen you recently. Where have you been?” You approach him smiling.

Mark shares an indecipherable look with Eve, and chuckles awkwardly, “Around… You know, I’ve been busy with… stuff.” He says gesturing to his backpack. You raise an eyebrow seeing his backpack filled with books. 

“Studying? You? My, we really haven’t talked in a while. The last time we all hung out, you bailed halfway through.” You smile teasingly, not truly mad, but more concerned than anything.

He grimaces, “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just been so hectic lately.” He looks over at Eve once again, she seems to empathize with whatever Mark is going through. You can’t help but feel… insignificant.

Mark was once one of your closest friends. What happened for them to grow so close? You can’t even bring yourself to be mad, Eve seems to understand him way more than you ever could.

Perhaps at one point, you would have felt different about that truth, but Mark as your friend is more important.

“Woah!” You chuckle, “It’s okay, really. I just want to make sure you aren’t, ya know, dead.” You smile, jokingly gesturing to your neck as if it was slit. He smiles and shakes his head, “Nope! Still kicking. I’ll be around for a while.” He glances at Eve, who seems to find what he said extra funny.

You laugh, “Yeah huh... Hey, I was wondering if you’d wanna hang out with us sometime soon. You, William, me, maybe one of my friends? Serena perhaps?” You raise a finger for each person you talk about. “Eve is free to join us too of course.” You smile at her, which she returns in good nature. 

Mark nods, “Yeah, I’ll make time for it. It’s been a minute since we’ve all hung out. Eve, would you wanna join?” Mark asks, turning to Eve.

“Sure. It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out as a group. I look forward to it.” She smiles at you. “I should be busy for a bit, but I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

You smile, “Great! That works for me!” You start to walk off before you stop abruptly and turn around. “You know we’re always here right?” You look at Mark and glance at Eve. He smiles back, but it looks more like a grimace. 

”Of course.” Suddenly he stands up straight. “Oh shoot I gotta go.” He announces before looking at Eve silently expressing… something? 

“No worries, see you guys…” They’re already speeding off to who knows where. They certainly have a mission in mind. They weren’t that rushed five minutes ago. Could whatever Mark forgot be that important?

(You didn’t know it at the time, but the reason he left was actually important. You later found out the reason on TV, even if you weren't aware it was him under the suit.)

“Hey, did you see what happened on the news?” Your friend, Serena, asks you later that day back in your apartment. She would often come over after classes to hang out.

You raise an eyebrow shaking your head, “No? Why? Anything interesting?” You sit down on the couch, leaning your head on the back as you respond.

“Somebody was trying to get Invincible’s attention earlier. He was talking for ages. Was claiming that he was the one who killed all those people in Chicago. I don’t know, he definitely has some issues he needs to sort out.” She waves a hand dismissively. 

That catches your attention, “Really that happened today? How’d I miss that? Wait, he was mad that Invincible ‘killed those people,’ but he is trying to kill people to get his attention?” You ask, doing air quotes as you say “killed those people.” 

“I’m not sure, it mainly just seemed like he wanted Invincible. I don’t know, I stopped questioning these villains a while ago. I only know the bare details.” She sighs.

You nod in agreement, “Fair enough.” You search for the remote and find it between the couch before turning on the TV. Perhaps this story is on the news?  

“ . . . just in! The newest villain, going by the name “Powerplex” has been arrested. Invincible was there to stop him this time, but that did not come without a cost. There were two casualties during this specific attack by him, not even counting his other attacks during this week. The casualties of this attack were his wife and child, who were electrocuted to death. It appears he took them hostage to get Invincible’s attention. You will all be happy to know that he has been arrested. . .” 

“That’s awful.” You frown. “Can’t believe he brought his wife and kids into it. That’s such a cruel thing to do… You think she knew what she was getting into with him?” You ask, turning toward Serena. 

“I mean maybe he was just a good actor? Perhaps he was able to blend in for a while?” Your friend throws out suggestions. “She could’ve also known though. Not that it’s my business. We’ll never know, and I don’t think I want to know.” She sighs before standing up.

“It’s horrific in either scenario. Imagine living with somebody for that long and not truly knowing who they are.” Serena chuckles, but there is no humor. You both stare at the TV screen, watching as the reporter drones on about the details.

“I think I’m going to head back home.” Serena stands up, grabbing her keys and swinging them in her hand. You nod, “Okay, drive home safe… Don’t get electrocuted.” You give her a thumbs up and smile. Is it wrong to joke about events like this? Probably, but if you don’t laugh you cry so…

She gives you an unamused expression “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” She rolls her eyes good-naturedly,  “I’ll see you later.” You wave as she walks out, turning your attention back to the TV. 

You have no connection to Invincible or any of that “superhero” life. The idea of superheroes excites you, but after seeing what occurred in Chicago, you can’t help but feel like it’s not all it’s made out to be.

It’s not like you’d be able to help. You’d end up as a casualty, another body to clean off the field. The thought makes you shiver.

Every time you see a story like this you wonder if there is a universe where it was you that died. It’s easy to just brush these events off like nothing when you aren’t living them.

That was how most people do it nowadays. Doesn’t affect you? Not your problem. It was a frustrating way to live. You didn’t like to think about how people are dying every day due to these villains.

However, you can’t not think about them. Hearing about this whole situation with, what’s his name, Powerplex? It creates this feeling of dread, a feeling you’re unable to ease. Who is to say that you aren’t going to be the next casualty mentioned on the news?

It truly was easy for the whole world to live in that ignorance. It was easier for you to live in ignorance, then they appeared.

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

DAY ONE

Honestly, the first day wasn’t that eventful for you. It wasn’t until the late evening you even heard about it.

You didn’t live in an area that was immediately affected by the attacks, so it wasn’t as if your apartment suddenly came crashing down on you. Instead, you got a call from Serena. You raise an eyebrow before picking up the phone. 

“Uh hey?” You wonder why she called you, it wasn’t like you got calls often.

”Oh my God, you’re okay.” She breathes out in relief, and now you know something is up. “Please tell me you’ve seen the news.” Her voice is filled with worry.

You stop moving, “No… You know I don’t check the news that often.” You respond. Admittedly, that's on you. You probably should keep up with the news more often.  

She sighs, “Turn it on. There’s like over a dozen Invincibles out destroying major world cities.” You feel your heart drop before immediately moving to your TV and turning it on. You switch to the news.

No words are being spoken, they don’t have to. The screams of panic strike fear into your heart.

The camera shows a gigantic building in Chicago crumbling down. The cameraman focuses their lens on the figure floating above it all. Whoever it is, they’re wearing a white uniform.

The camera isn’t advanced enough to zoom in on their face, but you don’t find yourself doubting Serena’s information. Suddenly a white blur knocks the camera away, and it fades into static. You watch in horror. 

“Oh shit…” You whisper to yourself, forgetting that you are still on the phone. 

“It’s being recommended that we don’t exit our homes. We just pretend like nobody is home.” Serena’s words barely register, but you nod, forgetting that she can’t see your visual response.

“Okay… So we just sit here until they leave?” You ask, feeling stupid for asking the question. What else could you do? Fight them? You’d sooner kill a bear with your bare hands than somehow survive facing off one of them. 

The silence between you two is loud, “Not like we have any other choice.”

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

DAY TWO

By this point, you had been living in relative darkness for a little over a day. Serena sent you a link to an article advising citizens what to do: keep the lights off, and stay away from windows. You don’t want them to know you’re there. You had occasionally gone to get some food and drinks from the kitchen, but besides that, you were pretty much locked in your room.

The small peeks you took of the outside world showed promise. Realistically, the chances of one of the variants coming to your suburban neighborhood to wreak havoc aren’t high.

You close the curtains and look away from the window. To be fair, they also aren’t zero.

After being bored and doing nothing for over a day, you were instantly aware when something changed in your environment. You felt your heart stop for a moment. It sounded like somebody entered your apartment. 

You remain frozen as you try and listen for any more signs of life outside your room. Eventually, you hear something. A voice calling your name, whoever it is sounds familiar. However, that doesn’t mean you’ll come running out. You don’t respond immediately, sitting there in silence and fear, slowly inching towards the closet to hide.

On the way, you pass by your door, which was slightly cracked open. The intruder could walk in whenever they wanted. It wasn’t the most brilliant move you’ve made, but it wasn’t like you were expecting guests okay?

Your eyes widen as you take in who it is. “Mark?” You push the door open hesitantly. His attention immediately snaps to you. “What are you doing here?” You ask, exhaling slowly and calming your pounding heartbeat. 

He stares at you stoically, before walking over to you, his steps are unhurried. Suddenly you realize that he left the door open behind him. You feel your heart rate spike up again. 

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU!?” You whisper yell as you push past him to the door. You accidentally bump your shoulder onto his while walking by, causing him to halt and falter in surprise.

”How did you get in? I thought you said you lost that emergency key I gave you.” You lock the door and turn to him again. He observes you silently.

“I found it.” He responds, tone even. 

“Well yes, I kinda assumed that.” You respond dryly before feeling the anger leave your body.

“Hey…” You place your hand on his shoulder and he stiffens. “Are you okay? Did one of those variants attack you or your mom?” He finally looks you in the eye for the first time since he unexpectedly entered. His stare is piercing, it feels like he’s looking at your entire soul. 

He pauses for a moment before answering, “They came through and destroyed my house.” His voice sounds detached like he’s somewhere else right now.

You feel your eyes widen and your heart drops, “Oh my God, is your Mom okay?!” You guide Mark back to your room, he seems to follow with no resistance. You sit on the floor, but he remains standing.

“She’s fine. She wasn’t there.” He responds, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“That’s good… I mean not good that your house was destroyed, but good that she got out of there. I mean have you seen the damage that these Invincibles have done?” Mark looks at you like he’s expecting something, and you feel slightly unnerved. Maybe he’s in shock? You can’t exactly blame him. You do feel kinda awkward though. How exactly do you comfort somebody who just had their home destroyed and almost had their mom killed?

“I was watching the news when it started, there was this one I saw. I think it was Chicago he hit?” Mark freezes slightly, his eyes narrowing in on you, but you don’t notice.

“It was crazy… He didn’t look like Invincible at all. However, judging by how many of the other attackers look like Invincible, I want to say that this one was probably some weird Invincible variant in white.” Mark gives you a weird look.

“What’s wrong? Still worried? Don’t worry we should be safe here. I don’t see why an Invincible variant would attack me. I don’t even know who is under that mask. We’ll be safe here if you wanna stay until it’s over.” You feel like you’re talking too much at this point, so you stop before you embarrass yourself more than you already have. 

“So I can stay.” Mark eventually speaks, getting your attention. The phrase is less of a question, and more of a statement, like he needs you to reaffirm what you already said.

You nod, “Of course, stay as long as you need.” You smile at him. Mark stares down at you before nodding and sitting right next to you on the floor. 

You raise an eyebrow, “You know you can sit on my bed right? You don’t have to sit on the floor.” He looks at you and slowly nods. 

“Right…” He sounds hesitant, but eventually stands up walking over to your bed. He sits down on it and looks back at you. He stares at you expectantly. You feel scrutinized under his gaze.

"Uh, is there something on my face?" You ask. He continues to stare at you before he looks away.

"You look different." Well okay then. Is that an insult or compliment?

“Uhh, I don’t exactly look much different than the last time I saw you. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight.” You joke. He looks at you like you’re stupid. “Hey don’t give me that. Come on wanna play a game or something? I’ve been bored out of my mind here.”  You stand up stretching.

“A game…” He repeats dryly. “What ‘game’ would you wanna play?” He asks.

You hold your hand out giving him the “wait” gesture. He watches as you search around your room before finally finding what you're looking for. “Here we go!” You show him your deck of Uno cards. 

“Uno?” Mark responds confused. “You want to play this... ‘Uno?’” He gestures to the cards. You raise an eyebrow looking back at the cards.

”Yes…? Something wrong with that? I only have the original one if that’s what you’re upset about. Couldn’t find the Seance Dog version, I must've lost it.” You sit next to him starting to shuffle the cards.

”That’s not the problem…” Mark starts to sound unsure looking at the deck of cards. ”Do you perhaps have its original packaging?” He asks. 

You blink in confusion, “No, why?” You start giving him his cards.

”I just need to see its instructions.” He looks at the cards blankly.

You sigh, “No, stacking plus twos and plus fours is not in the rules. Yes, we will play with it anyway.”

You give yourself your cards before setting the giant stack down and flipping over the first card, it’s a green four. “I’ll go first.” You place a green seven down.

Mark stares at the cards, before looking up at you. He stares at his cards for half a minute. “You gonna play a card or are we just gonna sit here?” You joke. 

“Just…” He sounds frustrated, “Just give me a moment…” He looks at the cards. 

After another period of silence, you eventually break it, “Dude just place down a seven or green, please. Whatever strategy you’re thinking of, it clearly isn’t working.” You chuckle.

He looks at his cards before slowly placing a green five down. “Right… I was just planning something.” 

You immediately slam down a blue five. “Yeah sure, try all you want. You aren’t gonna win this time.”

He looks at you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen on his face, “I wouldn’t count on that.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“HOW?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” You point at the stack of cards in the middle, telling you to take 14 cards. 

“The rules are the rules. Take the cards.” Mark points to the deck of cards, his lips upturned slightly. 

You glare at him before smiling. That was the first time he’s "smiled" today. He’d been off all day, and if losing a game of Uno was what it took to cheer him up, it was a price to pay.

You both play a few more rounds before you get tired of losing. “Okay, you never win this much. Are you cheating?” You jokingly ask.

He scoffs, “Cheating? I don’t need to cheat to win.” He taunts holding his singular card in plain view. The words "UNO" in the back taunt you for the seventh time. The trace of a smile is gone from his face, but you can see the mirth in his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you can.” You sigh placing down your only play. You look up at him, and he stares at you for a long moment.

“You know dramatically holding out your move doesn’t make you mysterious. Just draw more cards, I know you don’t have a yellow or two.” You roll your eyes. 

He looks at his card and sighs in the most contrived manner possible, a stark contrast to the serious demeanor he had when entering the apartment. “You’re right. I don’t have either…” He places his last card down, a wild.

You look at him blankly, he returns the stare with a smugness he didn’t previously have. You place your cards down before walking out into the kitchen, Mark follows you. “What are you doing?” He asks, the smug tone gone. 

“I'm gonna sacrifice myself to those variants running around, that fate might be better than having a seven-time losing streak.” You respond sarcastically.

“You know what,” You point out to the window, “at least I would beat them in Uno.” You say referring to the Invincibles out destroying the world.

Mark looks at you, then at the window, then back at you, “I doubt that.” 

You lean back on the counter dramatically, feigning offense, “Oh how you wound me! I think I could beat their asses in Uno! I bet at least one of them doesn’t even know how to play it!” 

“I’m sure.” He replies, there seems to be amusement in his voice, but you can’t imagine why. 

“Hey, I beat you in Uno all the time. Consider this your lucky day.” You grab a bag of chips. “I was going easy on you today.” You say before you begin grabbing chips out of the bag. “Want some?”

Mark looks at the bag, his face turning to a grimace, “I’ll… pass.” You shrug and continue snacking before putting the bag away.

”Suit yourself. Feel free to eat whatever I have, just don’t eat it all.” You gesture toward your pantry, his gaze following the direction you point. 

You start to walk away, “Where are you going?” He asks as you pause.

”Pillows? Blankets? I need to grab some extra for myself. You can take my bed.” You look into one of your cabinets, grabbing an extra couple of pillows and a blanket. 

“Is it not your bed though?” Mark asks, frowning.

”Well, yeah, but you’re my friend and my guest.” You smile walking towards your room, and he follows behind you. “I mean with everything you’ve been through recently, I’d feel bad if I forced you to the floor.” Mark remains silent.

You start to create a pile of blankets on the floor, rearranging the pillows how you like them. Mark watches silently. 

“Hey, could you turn my TV on? Make sure it’s muted. As long as the lights aren’t flashing too bright on it I think we’ll be okay.” You ask Mark, he gives a hum of acknowledgment before heading back to the living room.

You finish setting up the makeshift bed before joining him. You look around making sure all the windows are closed and secure before joining him. 

“Oh my God…” You whisper as you watch different clips play out on the TV. These Invincible are destroying cities. You can only stare in shock, you watch as buildings topple over, skyscrapers crumble to the ground, citizens get buried under rubble, and nearby life burns.

What you saw that Invincible in Chicago do was a fraction of the damage.

Mark doesn’t say anything, and the initial glance you took towards him when you walked in reflects that indecipherable look once again. Who knows what he’s thinking? These monsters almost killed his family.

You look over to him to see if he’s watching, his gaze looks detached and uninterested. You turn back toward the TV. “I’m sorry…” You mutter, feeling his eyes turn toward the back of your head.

“For what?” He asks, and he sounds genuinely confused. “You didn’t do it.”

You look back at him, his eyes reflecting disbelief at an apology. “No, but I’m sorry it happened to you.” You look at the screen, showing the burning buildings. It feels like you can hear their screams despite the muted volume. 

He looks at you, not that you can see, as if you're a puzzle. “Why apologize for something you didn’t do? Seems pointless.” He asks.

You look at him, your eyes meeting again, “Sympathy, perhaps.”

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

DAY THREE

You open your eyes to the blinding light of your window. You blink the sleepiness away before processing that your window is OPEN.

You stand up quickly, tripping over your pillow before you reach to close the window and curtains. You look at your empty bed, perfectly made. 

”Mark?” You call out. You open your door to see him in the kitchen with a mug in hand, windows all open, and lights bright as day.

You gape for a minute before walking over and closing all of them. Once you close them, you turn off the lights, you can still see, but you will admit you kind of missed lighting like that. “What are you doing?!”

Mark looks at you, raising an eyebrow.

You gesture wildly to the house around you, “Uhh I don’t wanna burst your bubble, but we are not Invincible. What are you gonna do if one of those variants attacks us? The attack on your house proves that nobody is safe.”

Mark looks at you uninterested, “Nobody will attack this place.”

”You can’t guarantee that, Mark.” You respond exasperated. “If you could, you wouldn’t be here right now.” You frown as Mark stares at you stoically.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really don’t want to take this out on you, but it’s scary out there. I don’t want to be this paranoid, trust me, but I can never be too sure what will happen.” You sigh looking at him.

“Hell I mean, one of those Invincibles could kick that door down, and we’d be toast. I mean how many even are there?” You ramble.

“Sixteen total.” 

“Sixteen?! Damn.” You exhale in disbelief. “That’s sixteen different Invincibles who could essentially destroy the world. Wait, how’d you even know there are sixteen?” You ask.

Mark gestures lazily toward the TV. “Righttttt, that was a dumb question.” You sigh. Suddenly you pause that train of thought, “Wait, what happened to Eve?”

Mark takes a slow sip of his coffee, “Not sure.”

You frown in concern, “Have you had contact with anybody since they invaded?”

”Just you.” He takes another sip.

”Damn, that’s sad… Do we want to try and contact her?” You ask hesitantly. It doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about Eve.

He shrugs, “Lost my phone.”

You frown, “Oh… Do you wanna. . .” You look up at him, his eyes dead set on you. “You know what, never mind.” You make a mental note to check if you have Eve’s number later, and maybe ask what his whole attitude is about.

“Anyway, were you up long before I got up?” You ask, changing the subject. 

He shakes his head, “No.” He responds. 

“Okay good, I was worried I had slept in or something.” You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pull it out and see that Serena sent you a new link, you’re so grateful that she keeps up with news better than you can.

”Hey it seems like the variants disappeared from the cities.” You casually mention, Mark looks up, suddenly interested. 

“Where did they go?” He asks. You shrug in response, reading the rest of the article. He walks over to try and read over your shoulder.

“It seems like they all left at roughly the same time, perhaps something called them. Maybe they have a ‘Boss Invincible’ or something.” You joke.

Mark chuckles humorlessly, “You think?”

“You don’t think that?” You retort, smiling.

“No, I mean you’re probably right.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “It just sounds strange.” He continues.

You nod understanding, “Yeah, but I mean what else could bring them together? They have to have a leader of some kind. This attack seems too coordinated to just be unplanned.” 

Mark sips his coffee loudly, “I guess.” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. 

You feel your phone vibrate again. You check it and see a text from William. “Hey, William texted me! You’ll be glad to hear that he is okay.” You hear Mark hum in acknowledgment before opening the message. 

It’s safe. They’re gone for good.

You look at the text message surprised. You have multiple questions.

 

How do you know?

Just trust me on this, I know some people who work with the government. The Invincibles are gone. 

Mark notices your silence, “What is it?” He asks.

You turn towards him, “They’re gone gone. The Invincibles apparently vanished, completely. They didn’t just stop attacking the cities or get called away, they aren’t here anymore. They’re gone for good. ” This catches his attention. 

“Are you serious?” He asks. His eyebrows furrow, is he mad?

”...Yeah.” You pause before confirming. “Are you okay?” You walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He immediately tenses up.

“Hey, they’re gone. They can’t do any more damage. Everything will be okay.” You try to reassure him.

He looks down before relaxing. “They’re gone.” He repeats, you nod. “All of them?” He asks quietly, you nod. 

“All of them.”

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

“What do you mean they’re not all accounted for?” Cecil yells out walking down the hallway as one of the assistants follows closely.

“You mean to tell me that there is still one of those Marks out there?”

The assistant nods frantically, “We accounted for every single one that died, and the ones that were sent to that alternate dimension. There is still one here, and he’s not our Mark.”

Cecil stops walking, “Does Mark know?” He asks.

The assistant shakes their head, “No… We weren’t sure if we should tell him. I thought it was best to tell you first.”

Cecil nods in approval, “I’m glad you did… Do you know where he was last seen?”

“It was the Invincible that destroyed Chicago, he left after decimating that city. We aren’t entirely sure where he went. He could be on the other side of the globe, but we do know he hasn’t left the atmosphere.” The assistant replies.

"Good, we need to see if there’s a way to locate him. For all we know, he’s already aware that his counterparts have been banished. I can’t imagine he’d serve himself up on a silver platter for us to eliminate." Cecil starts walking towards Eve’s room, there’s a large chance Mark is still there. 

“He can’t hide for long, sir. We’ll find him.” The assistant follows closely behind him.

"Like you already said, he could be halfway across the globe. We can’t leave a threat like that lying around ready to strike whenever. We need whatever leverage we can get right now. If we make it public information that he’s wanted, he might just leave the planet."

"I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly feel safe knowing an evil version of Invincible is out there somewhere in the universe. We were unprepared for this attack, next time we’ll be ready." Cecil walks down the hall watching through the windows as more ReAnimen are being created. He continues to walk past them.

“There’s only one of him. We’ll bide our time. Keep me updated on any status updates on him. If you hear anything that sounds like Viltrumite sightings, I need to know as soon as possible. I will spare no expense, understand?”

”Yes, sir.”

[mysterymachine67]

heyya! bro if I give you everything that's in the list of the things I wanna do to dean Winchester ass, it'd be like dropping a nuclear viagra bomb because jesus I'm down bad 😭

but MY NUMBER ONE I SWEAR I shared this to everyone on here not irl is. dilf reader ladies and gentlemen and not just nonchalant calm dilf no where's the fun and attitude in that? I mean like I mean like a downbad pervert dilf for dean but he never says anything because even he thought it's creepy, until either he walked into dean jacking off to his stolen clothing or like dean bluntly admitting during their drunken state?? IDK DILF READER GOT ME ON A CHOKEHOLD OR EVEM SUBTOP DILF?? BECAUSE COCKY DEANAAAAA

or if you're not into the pervert dilf line, anything relating to reader being older than dean can make my dick cry and ascend

PAIRING -> Dean Winchester x Older M!reader

SUMMARY -> You’ve had a little crush on Dean for a while, but you never told him because 1. You’re older than him by a couple years and 2. You’re sure he’s not even into men. But one day when you hear something from his room, you think maybe it’s the day you do something about it.

NSFW. MINOR’S DNI.

I think I love you, anon. Also you sent this back in March and I want to APOLOGIZE. I am so very sorry 😭

You liked him. You liked him a lot actually. To the point where it even creeped you out yourself. Every time you’d work with them for a hunt, or go visit them Dean always caught your eye. He was a complete ladies man, no way in hell did you have a chance. Also with your age. You assumed he wasn’t into older women, or even men. But little did you know you were so, so wrong.

The bunker was quiet as you walked through the door. Sam had called about needing your help on a hunt, so you took it, of course. You got to help them and see the man you love? Hell yeah. But while on the phone Sam said that he’d be out for a few hours, so it’ll only be you and Dean till he got back. In your opinion it was even better.

You sat your bags down onto the one of many tables. The thud echoing a bit. You didn’t see Dean in any of his usual spots. Probably in his room. Not that it..mattered or anything. So, without anything better to do, you walked to the kitchen. Attempting to find yourself a snack, or even a drink. In which you did. Walking out of the room with your preferred option. You probably should be opening books, looking online for more information about what happened, and trying to figure out what you guys were dealing with. Buuut you decided to roam the halls instead. Yes, you already know your way around the place. Yet that didn’t seemed to faze you.

After walking down one hallway, you turned down the one with Dean’s room. Silently getting a bit excited. Your steps were quiet, not intentionally. But they were quiet enough to where nobody could hear them unless they tried. You couldn’t help it. You stopped right in front of Dean’s door. It was quiet in there, or so it seemed to be. Maybe he was sleeping, taking a nap? Or maybe even listening to music. Nope. The moment you pressed your ear against the door, because why not? You heard a muffled moan.

You have got to get your mind out of the gutter. He probably wasn’t even doing what you thought he was doing. Yeah no you were right. Out of every sound that left him you swear you heard your name in between at least two times. It was clear. Broad as daylight. Now the thought of Dean Winchester jerking off to you, a man that is much older than him, is stuck in your mind. You thought about the face he was making— how pretty he must look, and how long had he been trying to get off. If it were to be you in there, hand wrapped around his cock, would he be even louder than he is now? Would he buck his hips into your hand, begging for more?

Oh you wonder what he sounds like when he—

No, get your head in the game. You have a man jerking off, whimpering behind the door you were currently pressing your ear against. What should you do? Walk away and pretend that this isn’t happening? Or walk in and have the best sex you’ve probably had with the man you’ve been crushing on? Choices, choices, choices.

You’d hate to admit, but your cock was hard. Pressed up against the confinement of your boxers and pants. After a few very long seconds you decide to just walk away. Figuring that’d be the best option. But then just as you start to move your feet, you hear Dean moan your name again. That was the final straw. Your hand found itself on the doorknob, twisting. Thankfully it was unlocked, otherwise it’d be super embarrassing if it wasn’t. And ohhhh this is the sight you’ve been wanting to see. Dean’s hand was wrapped around his cock, hand covered in his own cum, face twisted into a look of pleasure, while his cock was an angry shade of red while twitching. Would it be wrong to say you nearly came in your pants right then and there?

You walked in, shutting the door behind you. When he heard that door click shut his eyes shot open. Hands scrambling to hide his hard-on with the blanket next to him. “What the hell, man?”

“Uh, uh. Don’t act as if you weren’t just moaning my name not too long ago.” You stated, bluntly. And all he did was look at you, confused. Knowing damn well he was just doing that. He was caught, there really wasn’t much to do in this situation. So, he swallowed—looking away for a moment. He refused to have eye contact.

“Listen, I don’t know what you mean,” His eyebrows were raised slightly, and he shrugged. “So if you could get out, that’d be great.” You were going to do anything but that.

You soon got Dean to crack; admitting that he was indeed jerking off to you.

Just as you walked away from his bed, not to leave, but to just roam his room. He called out, stopping you from leaving because to him it seemed like you were. He wanted it, wanted you. Especially to feel your cock hit his prostate with every—

Woah.

He looked down. He had to, because every time he looked at you it just turned him in even more. His cock twitching under the blanket he hid it with.

“‘M not leaving just yet. We haven’t even gotten started,”

—

Dean’s lips crashed against yours—groaning when he felt your hands roam up under his shirt. The kiss was heated but passionate. Something the both of you have been waiting for. He was sat on your lap, your hand around his cock. Jerking him off while your other was feeling him all over. But you wanted to see more of him. So you pulled your hands away, Dean letting out a small groan from the loss of your touch, and helped him take off his shirt. The moment it was off he pulled you back in for another kiss. God, could he let you catch your breath?

By the time your cock was deep in his hole, abusing his prostate, Dean was already nearly out of it. Noises flooding from his mouth, movements getting sloppier and sloppier by the minute, and hands grabbing at whatever he could grab at. And you? You were enjoying this. Who wouldn’t? You have a man that you’ve loved forever bouncing on your cock, which feels like heaven. You moaned into his mouth when he clenched. With how good he felt you couldn’t get enough, bucking your hips up slightly. Driving your cock deeper into him. You shut your eyes and leaned your head back, soon feeling lips on your neck. They trailed up to your jaw, peppering kisses everywhere he could. “Jesus—“ Dean groaned—breath hitting your skin. “Feel s’good,” he mumbled.

You smiled. “Yeah?”

“Mmm..” he tried. One of your hands trailed down his back, feeling his skin against your palm. You groaned, absolutely loving and reeling in the moment.

You were sure the both of you would want way more after this. Him riding you was amazing, yes, but you knew in a matter of minutes after the both of you would cum, you’d want more. And oh, you were right. When you saw how he looked when he came, and how such pretty noises left his mouth, you pulled him off your cock and pushed him into a position that left him exposed. Leaning in closer to him you whispered:

“Y’gonna let me fuck you good?”

And Dean responded with a quick nod.

[thydungeongal]

So this is a bit too deep of a topic to really get into in one brief message, but I think you've got the right idea but there's some nuance to this. First of all, it's good to remember that in D&D (I'm using 5th edition as an example here because it is the most current edition and this idea is more or less true regardless of edition) the flow of play is character does a thing -> appropriate roll or check is called for if needed -> results are narrated. As such, in your example of the character searching a drawer there's a lot of room for arbitration as to whether a check is needed at all, and I would personally be inclined to say that if it's something not actively hidden that is being looked for then the character finds it. Now, if say the drawer were to have a false bottom that is something that a character can, theoretically, discover in more than one way, based on how willing the DM is to arbitrate it. "My character looks closely at the drawer to see if its internal dimensions match its external dimensions" would probably merit an answer without a roll, "My character tries to push one end of the bottom of the drawer to see if it's loose" would probably reveal the existence of a false bottom without a roll, but a general "My character tries to see if there's something hidden in the drawer" would probably merit a roll. In those two first cases the player described their character doing a thing and it was a thing that would sensibly return an immediate response without issue, so the DM just said "yeah that thing happens."

Now with the example of Charisma rolls there is of course a lot of nuance, but the general principle applies, but I think what's good to remember than in modern editions of D&D Charisma checks are not a replacement for saying things, but they are a thing that triggers from characters saying things and that are used to adjudicate how those things are received. I would personally say that the accessibility feature isn't the check itself: the accessibility feature is also built into D&D in the fact that the game accepts detached third person narration from players as a valid way of narrating what their character does. Even the player who speaks with a funny voice and makes a cool speech needs to make a check, but their narration adds more fun and color to the action. It is possible for the check to be triggered with a simple "Bepis asks the guards to let him pass by appealing to his sense of urgency" (which could trigger a Persuasion, Intimidation, or Deception check depending on the circumstances).

This does mean that if a character says the exact right thing then they do the thing and it succeeds, but I think "player performs an impassioned speech in their character's voice" may not be the best comparison. The impassioned speech is one of the things that might trigger a check, in my opinion. The "it just works" solution in my opinion would be "the character presents very strong leverage in this situation." (Of course some people would argue that leverage is a thing that a character needs in order to make a check in the first place: this is not a settled debate, and if you read @imsobadatnicknames2's post that I linked there you can see that he also considers investigation and perception checks to not really lead to satisfactory gameplay in the context of D&D, and I kind of agree with him.)

But at the end of the day, it's good to remember that even if the characters do fail, either because the players rolled badly or because they did the wrong thing, that's okay. Momentary failures are part of these games. The important thing from a DM point of view, whether it's presenting a scenario where there's something hidden to be found or a potential negotiation to be had, is that you don't plan your adventure in such a way that it ultimately hinges on those things. Which leads to the broader point of this post of mine: D&D allows for a lot of player expression and characterization in dungeon exploration and combat and dangerous situations, but it has very little to offer in scenarios that hinge on investigation and persuasion. As such, from a DM's point of view, in D&D you don't generally want to plan content in such a way that failing at finding a thing or persuading a guy presents a roadblock, because those situations are ones where D&D provides so little room for player expression and characterization that it's not going to result in interesting gameplay. Like, I would personally just say "embrace dungeon crawling, dungeon crawling kicks ass," but even setting that aside: even if you're running one of those modern D&D types of game that's more about heroics and such, you will cause yourself and your players unnecessary headaches by building scenarios that demand approaches that D&D as a game is not built to handle.

I hope this makes at least some sense.

Imagine I appended this to @imsobadatnicknames2 very good post, it's a very good post but since I was going to make a very silly riff on it I didn't want it to be there to detract from it.

Imagine you, as a player, want to play a funny character. Sadly, you're the unfunniest person alive and can't tell a joke to save your life, Derek, so you won't exactly be able to make your friends laugh around the table. So you make your character, Bepis Horndongle, a really funny gnome with maximum ranks in Perform (comedy). Then when the situation demands it you can say "Bepis tells a joke to lighten the mood," and you ask the GM to be able to roll Perform (comedy), and after seeing the result of your roll you can be confident in the fact that the joke Bepis told was really funny.

However there's an issue: someone else in the group has brought in Goblin Steve. Goblin Steve is amazing, everyone loves that guy. And his player is also effortlessly funny. You could say that she's very smart and attractive and good at video games too. But regardless, whenever Goblin Steve says his famous catchphrase "Check it out, guys, I'm Goblin Steve" everyone at the table erupts in laughter. This feels unfair. Goblin Steve shouldn't be funny, he doesn't even have any ranks in Perform (comedy). Bepis is getting completely sidelined by Goblin Steve.

Now, here's a few questions:

Is there an actual issue here? If so, what is the issue?

If there is an issue here, is it one that is worth trying to solve with game design?

The example given heavily implies that this is a game of fantasy dungeon-crawling. With that in mind, is this really an issue? Could Derek maybe chill the fuck out and accept that Bepis will never be as funny as Goblin Steve?

[mediocrecowboyhat]

hc share since you're looking

arthur sketching [whatever love interest] constantly. or getting caught sketching them etc.

said smut is okay so... bondage + sketching them

I said what I said

I was actually thinking about that the other week! I was in the mood to write something for Arthur again and thought of his lasso

Tags: no use of pronouns, explicit sexual content, bondage, reader receiving oral

Arthur Morgan loves loves loves to draw you! Half of the sketches in his journal are pretty much of you. Some are more detailed, when he has the time and opportunity to sit down and put your features onto paper. Others are a bit more rushed, but they're still wonderfully drawn.

As much as he loves to capture you in his journal, he also likes to keep it a secret. Whenever someone gets too close, he shuts the book with an audible slam and stores it away. It's always on him in some way, either in a satchel or tugged into his belt when he's in a hurry.

At some point, you find out about it, of course you do. Arthur, your loving partner, would like to get a proper portrait of you after all, one where you sit still for him and perhaps even strike a pose. It's fun, throwing on various clothing items to switch it up. One time you tied his black bandana around your neck and put his worn hat on and that sight alone had him go absolutely crazy.

Of course the man has thought about drawing you nude, but could never bring it over himself to suggest it. There are hints here and there that he sneaks in during conversations and more private moments, but nothing outright. He doesn't even have to, because you bring it up when you two find yourselves forced to book a room at a hotel one day.

You've thought about it a long time by now and he can't help but flush and clear his throat when you tug at the rope he carries around to catch folks or game. Arthur is good at tying knots, knots that don't give in under any force. Though they're not as tight when he slings the rope around your naked body, his calloused fingers ghosting over your bare skin.

Now you're laying there between the soft and fresh sheets, the restraints squeezing your muscles in an almost comfortable way. The outlaw is lost in the dips and curves of your body and his eyes linger on your form longer than usual when he takes your picture. Some incoherent grumbling from him and the sound of his pencil on paper are the only sounds filling the warm room.

He can't deny that the sight excites him and the more time passes the tighter his jeans feel. You catch his hand drifting down to adjust himself and it gets a proud smirk from you. It feels good to get him like this with just the mere sight of your exposed body. No words, no touches, just you. That's all he needs.

Once he's finished with the portrait, he goes to free you from your binds, but you have a better idea. Arthur can't argue that he hasn't thought about it either throughout the evening, so of course he's on board. Now his face is buried between your legs, his fingers digging into your soft thighs while his mouth pushes you towards the edge. Back arched and lips parted, you push and pull at the rope, but not to break free.

[theartofwoompwoomps]

Oh scrap

Soundwave x human reader

Summary: the decepticons start talking about who’s the hottest one, and agree that an alien could break the tie (aka reader) and without a hesitation they say soundwave, not knowing this guy can hear everything lol

Pt.1. Pt.2 ———————————————————————

It had been just a regular day on the nemesis. Cleaning Shockwaves and Knockouts tools, updating some data pads, reporting to Megatron, and hanging out with the minicons.

You started this routine since the day they brought you here. 

Apparently Megatron had heard that the autobots had more moral thanks to the human habitants. Thus he decided to do the same.

And that’s basically how you ended up there. 

Thankfully, you got along with a lot of decepticons, especially those in the higher ranks. Mainly since you were a great escape from gruesome responsibilities of the war. that’s why it’s not surprising that you’ve experienced many interesting conversations with your giant comrades.

Especially after explaining common human entertainment would often lead to a lot of chaos. 

Like today, some cons had started discussing about human attraction standards. 

They found it strange how inconsistent the standards were all over the world. 

Yet somehow this conversation shifted into who was the most attractive decepticon. 

It went from being a simple small conversation to a whole blow out debate. You hadn’t even realized how out of control the whole thing had gotten.

At some point knockout had joined claiming that he was the most eye captivating cybertronian even to the humans. But of course, the lanky drama queen known as Starscream was not letting him have all the glory.

All their squabbling was really starting to get on your nerves. Especially since all the commotion kept shaking the platform you were currently resting on.

And clearly you weren’t the only one annoyed with their antics, since Megatron decided to see what all the ruckus was about. 

Though he clearly wasn’t expecting to have his second in command and the medic start stating the reasons why they were more attractive than the other, then forgetting he was even their in the first place and currently occupy themselves in a fully out cat fight. 

He was honestly tired of this whole situation. The way it had escalated was too far out of control and he needed to end this at once. 

Without hesitation he vented a bit before speaking to make sure to convey his anger.

“enough with this nonsense.” 

Oh scarp, they forgot he was there.

“If you truly want to know who’s the most attractive, why don’t you just ask the human in question?” 

Now all attention was on you.

Before you could even plan an escape Megatron was quick to reach his servers towards you. And Lifted you up to where everyone could see and hear you.

“So tell us, as the only human aboard our ship,” he pulls you closer, “who is the most attractive decepticon?”

Honestly it felt like he was taunting you. Maybe the whole thing was a trap. Did he want you to say his name, somebody else, or no one at all? 

I mean, you clearly couldn’t choose any without causing a ruckus.

But before you could stop your mouth and think your answer through, your default brain was let loose.

“Well there’s only one correct answer to that,”

All of them quietly waiting in anticipation for your response.

“It’s obviously Soundwave, have you even seen the guy? He definitely the hottest.”

What?— the whole place blew up with different reactions. 

Megatron was partially amused but also partially uncomfortable with your response towards his most loyal companion.

Knockout feels completely cheated off and starts claiming the whole thing was rigged. And you don’t even have to look at Starscream to hear his complaints and tantrum saying how soundwave doesn’t even have a sexy voice.

And at that you started defending why you had chosen your crush without letting on that he was your crush and still admiring all his qualities.

But unbeknownst to you, the calm alien was having a hard time keeping his composure. 

He could hear everyone’s thoughts and emotions about the whole ordeal. And even though he couldn’t feel your emotions the same way with cybertronians. 

Your emotions were very clear to him. Big enough for him to understand how you felt about him.

Honestly he was flattered at how he could feel you defending your choice and the whole things was starting to fluster him when you started praising his physique and voice.

Even his own cassettes were starting to wonder what was making their boss aka dad so stiff. 

———————————————————————

Masterlist

Next>>>>

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Fourteen

Word Count: 3452 Warnings: some suggestive thoughts/actions, mentions of past abuse, more pining, fluff, minor alcohol use, several large timeskips Notes: There is actually no possible version of this chapter that I'm fully happy with lol. But I hate this one the least. And I hope y'all still find it somewhat enjoyable XD All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider indicates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

AO3 | Masterlist

The snow came down heavily most nights over the next few weeks, and Lelia was stuck in the cottage more often than not, leaving Simon to continue scavenging alone. Food wasn’t as plentiful in the village as they’d hoped, and at one point, Simon brought back two dead, clumsily skinned squirrels after his hunt. Lelia was horrified, shrieking in disgust when she saw them, and then tearing up out of pity for the poor things.

She ate them anyway.

It wasn’t all bad, though. She managed to convince Simon to let her paint his nails after she caught him watching her do her own. He objected to the sparkly pink color she was using, so they compromised on a pretty shade of light blue. He’d gone silent and looked at it for a long time when she first offered it to him, and he’d seemed almost… sad. Or perhaps lost was the better word. When she’d tried to ask him about it, he’d just shrugged and stayed quiet, not even letting out a grunt or groan. She’d pursed her lips in concern, and spent the next hour trying to cheer him up by telling him how stunning he’d look with his new nails.

Simon had pretended not to be amused, but she could tell that he was.

Today, she was reading him poetry when she was struck with a sudden thought.

“Simon,” she said, getting his attention. He opened his eyes, staring up at her from where his head was laying in her lap. She bit her lip, hesitating for a second, but then continued. “Would you… I mean, you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, of course, but— would you like me to try to teach you how to read?”

Simon didn’t answer for a long moment, didn’t so much as move, and she started to worry that she’d upset him. She didn’t know why he couldn’t read—he had to have been able to at some point, to be a soldier, but she didn’t know if he had lost the ability before or after he died. She didn’t even know if he knew.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, when the silence got to her. “I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to presume—”

Simon cut her off by sitting up and cupping her cheek with one hand, looking into her eyes. The cloudy film on his own had begun to fade two weeks past, showing hints of the brown beneath. It was nice to finally know their color. Just like the dirty blond hair, brown suited him.

Neither of them knew what it meant, that it was coming back. Neither of them dared to hope, either.

“Yyeah,” Simon grunted, tapping the poetry book and nodding. “Llllearn… yyeahh.”

“Yeah?” Lelia echoed, a slow, tentative smile blooming on her face. She felt his thumb dig into the apple of her cheek lightly, and it made her blush. She quickly looked away, down at her book. “Well… I’ll have to grab some paper and a pen, then. We’ll start by relearning the alph—”

Simon’s hand moved to grip her chin, lifting her face again. A small, stuttered breath left her, her eyes widening as they looked into his once more.

Is he going to kiss me?

As soon as she had the thought, she realized how stupid it was—not just because Simon didn't have lips, but because he couldn’t possibly see her in such a way, either.

Do I want him to see me in such a way?

Do I see him that way?

Simon was still staring at her, slightly-less cloudy eyes raking over every inch of her face. His broken jaw quivered where it hung, drool sliding out the corner and down his chin. Without thinking about it, Lelia reached up to wipe it away. A second later, she blinked in surprise at the instinctiveness of the gesture. But what was there to be shocked about? She cleaned his drool all the time. She always had. And she always would.

Oh. Oh.

She sucked in a deep breath, feeling dizzy as the realization rocked through her. She loved him. She loved Simon, her zombie, her protector, her only friend. She felt stupid that she hadn’t noticed her own feelings sooner—how many times had she thought about how handsome he was? How many times had she thought that he was the only person who had ever made her happy? That she was selfishly glad the world had ended, because it had brought them together?

It was so obvious, she almost laughed. But then Simon let go of her and tapped the book again, and the spell was broken. She delicately cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way her heart raced in her chest, and the way her whole world felt like it’d been turned on its head. She could agonize over what she was supposed to do now, how she was supposed to act like everything was normal when she was in love with a zombie who would never love her back—or she could teach that zombie to read, like she had offered. She could avoid ruining her relationship with the only person to ever care about her, or she could risk it all.

Lelia had never been very brave.

“I’ll go get that paper,” she said, making her choice. 

Time passed.

He spent most of it in genuine fucking domestic bliss with his dove, cuddled up with her in front of the fireplace when the snow kept her trapped inside, and exploring the village with her when it didn’t. Every little treasure she found made its way back to their cottage, turning it into something resembling a home. She’d even collected a few children’s workbooks for him, and she’d looked so excited that he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed—especially not when they actually helped. He could recognize the first dozen or so letters of the English alphabet, now, all thanks to her. His beautiful miracle worker.

“Hold still,” Lelia scolded him lightly when he reached over to try and run his fingers through her hair. He grumbled but relented as she batted his hand away, focusing back on his bare arm, which was laid out on the kitchen table, palm facing up. She was carefully filling in his tattoos with a fluffy makeup brush and a bunch of colorful eyeshadow. The pallet she’d found the other day was massive, with over two dozen shades, half of which were downright ugly, in his opinion. He also didn't understand why anyone would need five different hues of blue, but Lelia had been ecstatic about that, so he supposed it wasn’t entirely stupid.

His dove had spent the last hour turning his greying, translucent skin into a damn rainbow. Purples, pinks, reds, yellows, oranges, greens, and all those shades of blue filled in the spaces between the black lines of his tattoos. He felt like a bloody coloring book—but it was worth it to see the proud little smile on Lelia’s face when she finally straightened up and set aside her brush.

“There,” she said, pleased. “Now we match.”

She batted her dark lashes at him, drawing attention to the light blue powder on her eyelids. He groaned. Loudly. Lewdly. But she just giggled, innocently unaware. Christ, she had no idea the things she did to him…

It was getting harder and harder to keep his desires to himself. She’d had another wet dream in his arms just the other night, and he nearly gave in right then and there. He'd wanted to touch her, to taste her, so fucking badly. It was only the memory of her teary, devastated face when she’d confessed about what that bastard of a husband used to do to her in her sleep that had him slipping out of the bed instead of slipping his hands into her sleep shorts.

Ghost was a monster, had been even before he died and came back wrong. But he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to her. He would never hurt a hair on her precious little head.

“You’re sniffing me again,” Lelia pointed out, and Ghost grunted as he leaned back, putting some space between them. He had been sniffing at her hair like a damn dog, without even realizing. Bloody hell, but that never stopped being embarrassing. “Do you need to go hunt?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly before standing up and fetching one of his workbooks from the shelf over the table, along with a pencil. Lelia smiled brightly, clearing away the makeup so there was space for him to practice. He sat back down and opened the book up to the last page they had worked on—one covering the letter N.

“Do you want a refresher?” His dove asked, but he shook his head. The letter was recognizable to him now, as were the ones that came before it, and he was eager to move on. He wanted to be able to read again, to write again. It would make communicating with Lelia so much easier.

“Alright then,” she said, turning to the next page for him. It just looked like two N’s smushed together. “This is the letter M, like in Mama. It makes a mmmuh sound when used in a word. Mmmuh. Mmmuh. It's written like this…”

Lelia loved Simon so much it hurt.

The thought never left her alone, not since she had realized it nearly a month ago. The ache in her cheeks from constantly smiling at the sight of him, the way her heart raced whenever he touched her, the not-nerves that squirmed in her belly when he let out that deep, rumbling growl—none of it would let her forget, not even for a second. Now that she was aware of how hopelessly in love she was, it was all she could think about.

She was sure she was doing a terrible job keeping her feelings a secret, but Simon never seemed to notice. Nothing changed between them, at least. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed at that fact.

They were currently searching the only section of the village that they hadn’t been in before. Simon had insisted on sweeping the area before letting Lelia step foot in it, like a chivalrous knight of old from her favorite stories. She barely refrained from confessing then and there. Instead, she’d just told him to hurry back, her arms wrapped around him in a hug.

As ordered, he made it quick, returning only ten minutes after he’d gone. So of course, when an hour later a zombie stumbled out of a closet Lelia was looking for new clothes in, he blamed himself. Doubly so when she tripped and fell into a broken window trying to get away, the sharp glass splitting her skin. She could tell by the way Simon reacted, sprinting into the room at the sound of her scream, an inhuman snarl tearing from his throat as he tackled the zombie to the floor and ripped it to shreds.

It was the first time since the cabin that she’d seen him fight another undead, and though it was scary, it was concerningly attractive, too. There was something wrong with her, she was sure, because the sight of Simon covered in gore and viscera, chest heaving, teeth bared… it made her heart race and her body feel warm.

But just like every other time she feared she was being exceedingly obvious about how badly she wanted him, he was oblivious. She found herself almost wishing he would notice, or that she could find the bravery to tell him, because living like this was painful.

But not as painful as it would be if he found out the truth and left her because of it.

Lelia insisted on cleaning Simon the second they got back to the cottage, refusing to let him have a look at the cut on her arm until she’d brushed his teeth and helped him change into fresh clothes. He’d fought her on that, but there were very few things she was stubborn about, so when she decided to be, she went all in. Only when she’d made it clear that she’d bleed out before letting him treat her wound while covered in zombie guts, did he finally relent. Even then, the second she was done, he scooped her up and carried her into the living room before plopping her onto the couch. He briefly disappeared into the kitchen, only to come back with a bottle of cheap whiskey to sterilize her wound with.

He poured a little bit of alcohol onto a clean rag and set the bottle down on the coffee table, before beginning to disinfect the deep cut on her forearm with gentle ministrations. It stung, but Lelia didn’t so much as twitch, used to far worse. Instead, she stared at the whiskey curiously.

It smelled something awful, nothing like the top shelf liquor her father and husband used to drink. Lelia found herself itching to try it regardless—neither man had ever let her have anything more than half a glass of champagne. Hard liquor wasn’t ladylike, after all.

She’d had a terrible dream about Andrew last night. Just the memory of it—hands, pushing her head underwater as his cock forced its way inside her—made her shudder. Maybe it was that—that need for reassurance that she was no longer his pretty little art piece to destroy on a whim—that had her reaching for the bottle. Maybe it was her brush with death earlier that day that had her taking a generous sip. Whatever it was, she regretted it instantly, the whiskey polluting her mouth with a taste so foul she thought she might be sick. It was even worse going down, burning her throat and making her cough like someone dying of tuberculosis.

Simon laughed, that familiar, gravelly chuckle settling in her chest, warm and heavy. Or perhaps that was the whiskey. Either way, she wanted to hear it again, so when Simon reached for the bottle to take it away from her, she pouted and took another, big sip. She gagged in between her coughs this time, but it was worth it. It was so worth it, because suddenly, Simon’s cold fingers left her bandaged arm, plucking the bottle from her grasp and setting it back on the table, before he tugged her off of the couch and into his lap. He gathered both her wrists in one hand, pinning them between their chests as he took her chin in the other. He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, wiping away a drop of alcohol.

“Naughhhhh’yyyy,” he groaned, low and playful, and Lelia sucked in a sharp breath, eyelashes fluttering. The warmth spread outwards from her chest, and a shuddering gasp escaped her, hot air ghosting over Simon’s fingers as she fell into his touch, irresistibly drawn to him. She could have sworn she saw his own cloudy, speckled eyes darken, and felt his loose grip on her wrists tighten. Wishful thinking, probably, but she was struggling to think rationally between the slight buzz of alcohol in her brain and the dizziness caused by his touch.

Lelia shifted a little bit, straddling his strong things. Her heart raced in her chest and part of her knew she wouldn’t be so bold if not for the whiskey—but maybe that was why she had drank it after all. She just wanted to be as close to Simon as possible. She’d tuck herself inside the hollow of his chest, if she could.

He could be inside you.

Lelia shivered at the thought. That nervous squirming sensation in her belly was back, but she knew by now it wasn’t fear—it was something she had never experienced before, at least not to the degree Simon’s touches caused. No, it was the feeling she got when she saw a fit actor on the telly take off his shirt. It was the feeling she got when her Year Eleven English teacher—a handsome, slightly older man that wore reading glasses and sweater vests—called her a good girl for helping her fellow students whenever they didn’t understand the material like she did. And shamefully, it was the feeling she sometimes got—very rarely—when Andrew or the soldiers took her. But this time, there was no terror or disgust attached to the moment. There was just Simon, and how he made her feel. Safe. Treasured.

Aroused.

Simon was silent and still beneath her. He’d let go of her wrists, and his hands drifted down her body to settle on her hips, thumbs slipping under the hem of her sleep shirt to rub circles into her flesh. She swallowed, and then leaned forward, until her lips pressed against the hard plastic of his mask, right over his forehead. He shuddered, grip tightening, and Lelia moved her lips lower, kissing the spot just beneath his left eye, then his right.

“Please,” she begged Simon, voice soft and needy. “Please take it off… I want to see you. I want to see all of you.”

Simon stared up at her with an unreadable look in his foggy eyes, taking deep, rattling breaths even though she knew he didn’t need to. But then he jerked his head to the side sharply, a denial.

“Sssscaa’eee… yyyyouuu,” he mumbled, looking away. Lelia’s heart broke, and she tried to gently turn his face back towards hers, but he wouldn’t budge. She sighed, resting her temple against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck, eyes still trained on him.

“You could never scare me, Simon,” she whispered. “Never. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel safe.”

Don’t.

Ghost knew he should listen to the voice in his head—not Johnny’s, for once—and refuse. He’d traumatize his sweet little dove if she caught a glimpse of him. He could see it all too clearly—the second his gaunt, rotted face was revealed to her, she’d start crying and lock herself in her room.

But she’d asked, and he was pure shite at saying no to her.

Slowly, he reached up and began to lift his mask. Lelia’s eyes widened and she straightened before going perfectly still, watching with rapt attention. He swallowed thickly, fucking terrified that she would scream and run away. That this would ruin everything between them.

“Please,” she whispered again when he paused, hesitating. He gave a full-body twitch, but then yanked his mask the rest of the way off, like he was ripping off a plaster. She gasped, and Simon closed his eyes, unable to stand the sight of the horrified expression that was bound to be on her face.

Several seconds of silence passed, but then suddenly, he felt Lelia’s plush lips on his forehead. His eyes snapped open as she began to pepper his face with lingering kisses, just like she had his mask. He could feel the softness of her skin, the feathery touch and addictive warmth.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed in between kisses. Simon could barely hear her, entranced with the delicious, searing heat of her mouth on his cheeks, his nose, even his broken jaw and the corner of his lipless mouth. “Thank you… thank you for trusting me… for caring for me… for saving me… Simon, I—”

She cut herself off, pulling back to look into his eyes. As his hands found her hips again, he watched her carefully, a part of him still waiting for rejection.

“I love you, Simon.”

I love you. I love you. I love you, Simon.

Lelia’s soft words rang in his ears. He let out a choked noise, his hands squeezing her so tightly she whimpered. He immediately let go of her, and she looked at him with a mortified expression.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, blinking rapidly as her eyes grew shiny. “Just— just forget I s-said anything, I shouldn’t h-have, I’m sorry—”

Simon didn’t have lips to kiss his dove with. He didn’t have the words to tell her how badly he wanted her. He couldn’t press her palm to his chest and show her how she made his heart race, the sensation just a phantom of memory.

But fuck, if he wouldn’t bloody well try.

He laid a hand over her heart, and recalled one of the first poems she read him—a favorite of hers, she’d said. Carefully, he spoke.

“Cccaaaarrryyyy thiiiiisss,” he patted his own chest with his other hand. “Innn hheeeerre.” The tears in her eyes spilled over, and finally, finally, she surged forward, her mouth crashing against. And for the first time since he’d died, Simon felt truly human.

[spaceprincessleia]

Rebels with(out) a cause

Here are some points I want to talk about regarding Vel, Cinta and storytelling:

It’s Vel’s story, not Cinta’s (Intention)

Vel in season 1 – and Cinta

What kind of story did we get?

The mess (Outcome)

The impact of queerness and race on the story we got

The story we should have got (Fix)

My conclusion

Feel free to dive into 1269 words of analysis. Good luck if you do.

Disclaimer: This is just an opinion and doesn't consider every aspect ever. Also, I don't read (many) interviews with people involved in the show or listen to/watch analyses. I really just had an itch to write down my thoughts, and they turned into ... many thoughts.

Also, this is an analysis that points out storytelling flaws. I love Vel and Cinta deeply, their story overall makes much more sense than the parts that could/should have been better, and I'll forever be happy that we got these characters and their relationship.

It’s Vel’s story, not Cinta’s

Andor introduces us to characters at important moments in the rebellion. Backstories are often reduced to minimal context (except for Cassian’s, because he’s the main character).

One of these stories is about a “rich girl” who walks away from privilege and wealth to fight the Empire directly – unlike a politician working from within the Senate. That’s an angle we haven’t really seen before, and we explore it through Vel – why did someone with her background join the fight?

To tell that story, Tony Gilroy created Cinta as Vel’s narrative foil, aka a marginal role and not a fully independent character. So, she wasn’t written for more screen time or deeper development; we were never meant to learn how she joined the rebellion, where she came from, or how she and Vel met.* Also, Cinta’s angle isn’t one we haven’t seen before.

* If anything, we do know why Vel and Cinta are (were) in a relationship: to contrast the protagonist, Vel, to highlight her choices, conflicts and growth. That’s not the in-character explanation for their love that we want, of course, but a meta explanation – the relationship exists for the story’s structure, because that’s how Tony decided to tell it.

Vel in season 1 – and Cinta

In season 1, we see two sides of Vel: she’s trying to become a leader and find her place in the rebellion (emphasis on trying), and she’s in love with Cinta. She wants both, but clearly struggles to find balance. Cinta is the opposite: she knows exactly why she fights and puts the rebellion first.

After the Aldhani heist, Vel and Cinta are worlds apart, both literally and figuratively. Vel ends up on Coruscant, no longer looking like a ground soldier, while Cinta returns to her role on the frontlines. Their priorities contrast as well: Vel becomes more caught up in her emotions, while Cinta remains focused on the rebellion.

We learn a little bit more about Vel, too, through Mon, Cinta and Perrin (for example that she’s Mon Mothma’s cousin, that she comes from a life of wealth and privilege, and that she grew up in a conservative, possibly homophobic society).

By the end of season 1, the focus is very much on Vel and Cinta’s relationship, and not on just Vel and her “why.”

What kind of story did we get?

Instead, Vel’s relationship with Cinta became the main point of her character – and the exploration of her “why” disappeared. The story focused almost entirely on their dynamic, and as a result, Cinta evolved into more than “just” a narrative foil. She became a character, and the one with more narrative clarity.

Therefore, many of us expected to see both of them grow/change individually in season 2 as well as a conclusion to their relationship.

And we did get both in season 2: they changed, and they found balance. They could love each other and still work well as a team dedicated to a common cause.

So far, so good, right? *record scratch* Well ... no, actually.

The mess

There are three points here that add to the mess of Vel and Cinta’s arc, in my opinion:

Firstly, all of Vel and Cinta’s character growth happened off-screen during the time skips. There’s no build-up to the conclusion of their arc, it’s resolved in minimal screen time. Vel’s core motivation is still unknown and it can’t be explored through her relationship with Cinta, since Cinta is killed off in episode six. Wasn’t exploring Vel’s core motivation the whole point of her character though?

Secondly, If Cinta’s death was supposed to become Vel’s “why,” the missing part in her arc, then that doesn’t work. Vel isn’t a new recruit, motivation doesn’t come after you’ve already committed, and if Vel only really starts fighting because of Cinta’s death, it reduces everything Vel did before.

And thirdly, things get even more complicated when we address what we haven’t yet: Vel and Cinta are a queer love story, with Cinta portrayed by a queer woman of color. And all of this matters, whether it was intentional or not.

The impact of queerness and race on the story we got

Tony tells a story here that generally works regardless of gender, sexuality or race. There’s nothing wrong with creating a marginal role (like a narrative foil) and even killing them off to advance another character’s arc.

But stories don’t exist in a vacuum. Even if the focus isn’t on identity, they become part of the story, and should be considered within the story (the vacuum) as well as the context of the real world.

Andor touches on queerness beyond just the portrayal of a same-sex relationship: for example with the line “Everyone has their own rebellion,” delivered by a queer character from a conservative, possibly homophobic society.

While the line refers to people from different backgrounds who join the rebellion for different reasons, a queer audience will pick up on a more specific meaning in that context, too. Because to many, being queer is a “rebellion” against the norms of a heteronormative society.

Additionally, the marginal character whose primary role is to support the development of a protagonist is portrayed by a queer woman of color, and the protagonist is white.

Considering both of these aspects, Tony Gilroy tapped into a long, painful tradition in media: queer women of color are often sidelined, underdeveloped or killed off to serve the arcs of others.

The story we should have got

Now, could the pain over Cinta’s death have been avoided? No. It would always have hurt fans who were invested in her and Vel’s relationship. But could the mess around that pain have been avoided? Partially, yes. Better storytelling choices regarding both Vel and Cinta could have made it less frustrating. Still, with so much character development skipped over through time jumps, some level of dissatisfaction may have been inevitable.

For me, the best fix would have been to

stay true to the original narrative purpose of Vel’s character, and

show Vel and Cinta’s development on screen, over time, in season 2.

The reveal of “why” Vel chose to fight the Empire should have been the primary focus of her arc. We’re shown her commitment, but not the core reason behind it. And that’s not a small thing: Vel would feel much more complete as a character with a defined motivation.

That missing “why” could have been explored through her contrast with Cinta. Vel is portrayed as someone who chooses to join the fight. Cinta, meanwhile, had no choice: her life was destroyed by the Empire, her “why” is clear.

Vel and Cinta’s journey to find balance in their relationship is a story I love with all of my heart. It could have grown alongside Vel’s personal arc, not replace it, and it could have honored Cinta’s character with more narrative space.

Conclusion

There’s still much more that could be analyzed and debated – but the bottom line is:

In my opinion, Tony Gilroy lost sight of his original intention with Vel: exploring her perspective and the reasons she chose to join the fight against the Empire.

Additionally, his casting and writing choices needed to be handled with more awareness.

Because of this, Cinta deserved more screentime and narrative space in season 2, even if she was always intended to be a foil and her death planned from the start.

And due to the timing of Cinta’s death in the storyline, it could never have meaningfully served as Vel’s “why” anyway.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[willoryn]

This was inspired by THIS post written by the amazingly talented @irkimatsu (Please go read it!!)

You're a virgin and it's your first time with Lucifer. This is told entirely through dialogue and inner thoughts from Lucifer's POV. First time trying something a little different! I hope you enjoy!

Fem!Reader X Lucifer

Fingering (reader receiving), oral (reader and Lucifer receiving), jacking Lucifer off, intercourse (reader receiving), loss of virginity.

(You and Lucifer arrive in his penthouse with the explicit purpose of losing your virginity. You had both talked about it for some time... and finally, you felt comfortable taking that next step in your relationship. Tonight would be the night.)

Here we are, home sweet home!

Can I get you anything? Tea, water?

...Just right down to business, huh? Yeah, I've been thinking about it all day, too... Well, let's get somewhere we will be comfortable.

Oh no, not the couch. I think the bed will be much better suited for what we will be doing, honey.

There, isn't this nice? We'll be much more comfortable here... hey, are you sure you want to do this? I can see you shaking a little bit...

Nervous? Me? Oh, n-not at all, dear!

...Maybe a little bit. I just... I just want this to be special for you, is all. You know, it's not too late to back out if you aren't sure...

...Well, I'm honored that you trust me so much... It's been a while for me but I promise to make you feel good. And if you want me to stop at any point please let me know, okay? I never want to do anything to hurt you.

We don't have to jump right into it. Do you want to just kiss for now? That's perfectly fine with me! Come here, sweetie~! Mmm~!

I love you too, darling. More than you know. Do you want me to lead? Okay... I know how much you like it when I touch your thighs, so I'll start there. In the meantime, let me kiss you some more~

Mmm~ You're so soft... I love your sweet kisses... hmm? move my hand up higher? Okay...

...higher? Haha, any higher and I'll be touching your... oh. Right. One sec, let me just unbutton your pants, sweetie... oooor you can take them off, thats fine too. I guess that makes things a bit easier, huh?

There... I'll just touch the outside of your panties for now... spread your legs a little wider for me? Thank you, sweetheart. Mmm so soft... does that feel good?

Gosh, you've already gotten so wet... haha, don't apologize. It just means you're excited. Does this spot feel good? How about right here..? Mm, that's better, huh?

Let me just pull these panties aside so I can get closer to you... God, your so soft... so warm... I hope it's not too much, but, can I put a finger inside you?

Aaah... you're so wet, baby~

You're squeezing around my finger so tight... we'll need to prepare you so I can fit without hurting you. Don't worry, it'll be okay... I want to make this good for you, too... your comfort is most important.

I'm going to slide a second one in, okay? Does that feel good? When I slide them in and out like this? Or when I spread them apart?

Of course you can move against me... mm, that's it, baby, ride my fingers all you want~ Good girl, you're doing so well~

A-Are you going to cum already? You must be really sensitive... Go ahead, sweetheart. Please don't hold back~

Gosh, you've made such a mess all over my fingers... I wonder how you taste~

...

Fuck, you're positively divine~

I-I want to taste more of you... can I help clean you up, my dove? Let's get these panties off you first... there we go. Just lay back, baby... open your legs a little wider... Perfect. You're so perfect~

You're pussy is so beautiful... Mm, and you taste so sweet... my innocent little dove...

(Lucifer's inner thoughts)

Mmm, your clit is so swollen... I'm sorry for neglecting it. Let me make you feel better...

Fuck, your moans are so sexy~

It's okay, you can tug on my hair, angel... am I really making you feel that good? Let me explore you a little deeper then...

Even around my tongue you're so tight... you came so much from just my fingers... imagine what I'm going to do with my mouth~

I can go even deeper than this, my love... mmm you love getting fucked by my tongue, don't you? Your being so loud and your thighs are squeezing me so tight... I can feel you trembling around me. You must be getting close...

Mm, I am your good boy... I'd do anything to make you feel good... I want to make you cum again... I want to taste more of my queen~

Yes, cum for me, baby~

Mmm God, you taste so good... I could just lay here and do this for hours. Just drink you in... make you cum in my mouth over and over~

(Lucifer externally)

Was that good, darling? You look tired... do you want to stop? It's okay if you do... I loved every second of that-

I-I mean, yeah, I'm very hard right now... Oh, right. We can't really do much if one of us is fully dressed, huh? Let me just take my pants off.

A-All of it? Are you sure? If you say so... Why, thank you, darling. But you're the gorgeous one here... huh? Oh, yeah, you can touch it... AAH!

N-No, you didn't hurt me... it's just been a while since anyone's touched me like this. Your hand feels so good, sweetheart... h-here, let me show you. Keep your hand on me, I-I'll just guide you a little...

Mm! Yes... just like that... you can go a little faster, if you want- O-Oh, god-!

Mhm... your hand feels so much better than mine, baby... Y-Yeah, I do... I think about you alot while I do this... is that gross?

What do I think about? Honestly, this, darling... you touching me. Seeing your beautiful body... getting to touch and taste you... huff... my fantasies can never compare to the real thing now....

Ah! Baby... f-fuck...! I'm getting close-! Wait, I-I... I'm gonna-I'm cumming-! Cumminggg~!

Hah... hah...

Shit, I'm sorry... I've made a mess all over your hand... let me get you a tiss- WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?

...

...

I can't believe you did that.

No, it's not weird! I-I'm truly flattered. I just didn't expect you to lick it.

You really are too good to be true... y-yeah, you can keep licking it... o-oh-! Oh my God, angel... your tongue is-! A-Ah!

You're getting me hard all over again, baby... please, can you take it in a little deeper? I want to feel your mouth around my cock... mmh-! That's a good girl, just like that~!

Mm! Aahn..!

C-Careful, don't push yourself! Are you okay? No no. It's okay, you can stop. I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to do that. Thank you, sweetheart. You are truly too good to me... come here for just a moment, I want to kiss you. Mmm~

I love you so very much. And I want to make you feel amazing... are you ready? Okay, will you lay back for me again?

You're truly divine... I could just stare at you for hours. I want to burn this very image of you into my brain forever~

I won't waste anymore time, sweetheart. I need you, too... Let me just position myself correctly... okay... I'm going to slide in now. Please tell me if it starts to hurt, okay?

Mm... S-So tight... A-Are you okay, honey? I'll stop and give you a minute... you're doing so good. Just relax... Good girl... I-I'm almost all the way in... mmh~

Okay, I'm going to start pulling out... And back in... Aaah-!

Mhmm~

Do you want me to keep moving at this pace... Faster? O-Okay... h-Haaah-! Does it feel good? I-I'm glad... all I want is to make you feel good. Can you wrap your legs around my waist? Y-Yeah, just like that, don't move... oh, that's good...! that's a good spot, right there-!

Oh... Oh my God~!

Fuck, your pussy is so tight... so fucking tight... a-ahhh~! Look at me, baby... I want to see your eyes... Hahh~ mm-! Look at you... So beautiful... my beautiful angel~

Does my cock feel good inside you, baby? You're taking it so well... do you want it harder? Mhm... Let me pound your sweet pussy a little harder, darling... You feel so fucking goood~!

Y-You're mine~! All mine~! Aaah- God-! You're driving me crazy, sweetheart-! That's it, baby- Scream for me like a good girl~! I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel~! How much you love taking my cock deep inside you~ Hufff- aah-!

A-Are you getting close already? Cum for me... I want to feel you cum all over my cock~! Fuck, kiss me, baby-!

Mhmm-! Hah- Huff-! Fuck, I'm gonna cum, too-! Oooh- gonna fill you up... do you want me to cum inside you? Tell me how bad you want it~! O-Oh god... I'm about to-! I-I'm cumming-!

CUMMINNGG~! Aaaahh~... aha... ahh...

...oh god... that was... huff... so good... are you okay, darling? I wasn't too rough with you? Good... I felt myself getting carried away at the end there... haha, I'm glad you liked it~

...yeah, we should probably go wash up... but I want to stay here a little longer... come here? Let me hold you in my arms a little while, my love... I hope I made your first time special for you...

You don't know how happy I am to hear that. And there are plenty more things we can do too... for instance, we seriously need to address that sinfully talented mouth of yours.

But we can talk about that later. You should rest, darling... I think we'll both be a little sore...

Goodnight, my love... I'll see you in the morning~

[crowroses13]

I finished this one today too I thought about saving it till tomorrow but like why lol

in this one every one has abandonment issues just like me yay!!!

word count 738

tell me what you think please

You knew this time would come; it always did. You pulled the suitcase out from under the bed. Your limbs felt heavy, you wanted to just lie down…

Maybe stay there till you rotted away. You’d nearly done that before, but that wouldn’t be fair to Sylus, and you loved him too much to do that to him, even if he didn’t love you anymore. 

This was his room, his house, and his life, and you… You’d out stead you’re welcome. You always did, you were unlovable, unwanted, and undesirable. Sure, sometimes you would trick people into loving you, but they always saw through it at some point. 

You were putting the last of your clothes away, the old ones you kept for when this happened, nothing of the beauty that Sylus had draped you in. It wasn’t really your after all, you were undeserving. You palmed one of his sweaters, your favorite one, the one that felt like home and comfort, like safety. He had bought five or so of them so he could wear them, and you could steal them. But this was not one of the others; this was the first one, the original. The one that you had stopped him from throwing away cause it was wearing thin. It was his, but without you, it would end up trashed, and birds of a feather should stay together, so you grabbed it, folded it gently then placed it in your case. 

A knock startled you from your remembrance. Did he already want you gone? Wouldn’t he let you pack up first?

Another knock and a low, soft, “sweetie?” Raising as a question. You felt your heart break just that little bit more, cause you weren’t now, were you?

“Yes,” you choked out.

The nob started to turn, then stopped.

“Sweetie, can I come in?”

Of course, he could; it was his room, not yours, not anymore.

“Sure,” it’s all you can get to come out. You long to gaze at him and see the gentle all incumbency adoration that he had held for you only hours ago. You turn away to your stuffies, you don’t think you can look at him right now, you can’t bear that there would only be disdain for you.

You feel tears pricking at your eyes. Looking at the many soft things Sylus and you had won, but you couldn’t take them, may-

“Are - are you leaving?” his voice broke through your thoughts. He sounded like he was going to throw up, horse and choking. It shocks you into looking at him.

An image of you stabbing a sword into him flashed through your mind. You gasp, grabbing your heart. You hated this one, like you would ever hurt this man, like you even could. 

“I-” you gave a long pause, finding words slow to come by, and he, with a frightening amount of patience, waited. Still, as if moving or even breathing would stop you from saying your mind. “I didn’t want to bother you anymore.” The words hung there, eyes locked. You could feel the slight tug of his all-seeing eye, like he was stopping himself from using his power to peer into your mind and make those words make sense to him. He hummed softly, thinking out his words carefully.

“You are always free to leave,” you nod, knowing this is him kindly telling you to leave, that was what came next, right? “But” the word cut through your gloom as he stepped closer. “Never once have I wanted you to leave me, I never will.” Your heartbeat louder he- he wasn’t leaving. He took another step closer. Your eyes were wide, and they itched with the unmet need for your sorrow to be shed. “If you're a bother, I wish to be bothered more, my dear,” he opened his arm in an invitation for an embrace.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You,” you swallow. “You love me?” It was a desperate plea.

“More than anything,” his voice deep, steady, and reassuring.

You grab him tight, you love that was too much for so many others, fits right here in his arms. His arms land on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles there. You cry into his chest.

“You won't leave me?” You were so quiet that you thought he might not have heard you, but then he whispered to you.

“As long as you will have me, my beloved”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

do you think Harry is a drinker? i think there was one instance in the last book where he describes a cup of tea to be as calming as firewhiskey, so I got the impression he might be a firewhiskey enjoyer. or would you headcanon Harry to be a regular or occasional drinker when he's older?

I mentioned here that I can see Harry turning to alcohol post-war, as it seems like alcohol is the Wizarding World's solution for all mental health problems.

But I copied all the scenes of Harry interacting with alcohol in DH, including the scene you mentioned, to see what evidence there is for it. The amounts of alcohol he consumes aren't high enough to get him drunk, and he doesn't act drunk. He describes being a little more confident and reckless, but he isn't drunk at any point:

“Here,” he said, and with a wave of his want he sent twelve full glasses soaring through the room to each of them, holding the thirteenth aloft. “Mad-Eye,” “Mad-Eye,” they all said, and drank. [...] The firewhisky seared Harry’s throat. It seemed to burn feeling back into him, dispelling the numbness and sense of unreality, firing him with something that was like courage. [...] “No,” Harry said aloud, and they all looked at him, surprised: The firewhisky seemed to have amplified his voice. [...] More silence followed his words. They were all looking at him; Harry felt a little hot again, and drank some more firewhisky for something to do. [...] His insides clenched like a fist. He could not tell her the truth. He drank the last of his firewhisky to avoid answering.

(DH, Ch5) - This scene is after Moody and Hedwig die. Harry is grieving.

Harry found the hot drink as welcome as the firewhisky had been on the night that Mad-Eye had died; it seemed to burn away a little of the fear fluttering in his chest. After a minute or two, Ron broke the silence.

(DH, Ch14)

Bill was soon opening another bottle of wine. Lupin’s news seemed to have taken them out of themselves, removed them for a while from their state of siege: Tidings of new life were exhilarating. [...] As he followed Bill back to the others a wry thought came to him, born no doubt of the wine he had drunk. He seemed set on course to become just as reckless a godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius Black had been to him.

(DH, Ch25) - Harry, Lupin, Bill, Fleur, Hermione, and Ron drained 2 bottles of wine; we know Lupin drinks 2 goblets. Let's assume it's a standard wine pour of wine (so ~5 glasses per bottle), so Harry would've only drunk one or two glasses (10/6 = 1 2/3, so 1-2 glasses per person, assuming they all drink about equally).

Harry seems to like the feeling of alcohol, the sense of courage that comes to him and dispels the numbness, as he calls it (lucky him, I just get sleepy when I drink). He likes it as a coping mechanism — to not think about his depression and grief, he doesn't even mention the taste (of the Firewhiskey or the wine), as if it isn't there.

Which is in stark contrast to his reaction to mead early in HBP:

“Madam Rosmerta’s finest oak-matured mead,” said Dumbledore, raising his glass to Harry, who caught hold of his own and sipped. He had never tasted anything like it before, but enjoyed it immensely.

(HBP, Ch3)

Or even butterbeer earlier in the series:

“Merry Christmas!” he said happily, raising his tankard. Harry drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of him from the inside.

(PoA, Ch10)

Harry's drinking in DH, is from a place of stress & depression rather than from a place of enjoyment, like in the earlier books.

I think there is definitely enough here to support post-war Harry drinking firewhiskey when he wants to not think — not because he likes the taste but because he likes the heat and the feeling it leaves behind. How it chases away the numbness for him. So, I don't know if I'd say he likes Firewhiskey as much as he likes the effects of it/alcohol in general in and post DH.

I don't think Harry would be an alcoholic, definitely not by Wizard World standards (where professors get drunk in front of students regularly). I can't see him drinking enough to get properly drunk, I think he won't like the loss of control that came with it, but I can see him drinking a bit whenever he feels he needs some liquid courage or to drown his thoughts. Definitely if he is stressed or in moments when he gets depressed. Like, before visiting his parents' graves, on the date Sirius died, before going to a war memorial, etc. But also on happy occasions — I can totally see him drinking a glass of Firewhiskey before his own wedding to settle his nerves, and he'd drink in celebrations in general (like at the scene when he was told Teddy was born).

[azaharinflames]

I noticed two interesting things while watching episode 816.

The first is the development of Tommy’s character. Other fans have pointed this out too, but it's worth emphasizing: Lou is a guest star, which means he gets paid per episode. So unless a storyline specifically requires his presence, there's no real reason to include him—especially after he and Buck broke up. Despite that, he appeared in episodes 811, 815, and 816. We’ve continued to see this push and pull dynamic between Buck and Tommy, as if they're on the edge of reconciling. Episode 816 was particularly interesting because he didn’t even appear in the present timeline—he showed up in a flashback from eight years ago, where he was saving Bobby. During the funeral, he was shown as one of the pallbearers, grouped together with the other 118 members. This made me feel like Tommy is being expanded into a character with his own narrative arc, rather than just being simplified as Buck’s li. While it felt like the writers had no idea how to use Tommy during 8A, 8B feels like they’ve finally figured out a plan for him.

The second thing is that it feels like Tim has closed the door on Buddie. I always thought Tim never intended to make Buddie canon, but he kept dropping bait to keep Buddie fans engaged. Even in Aisha's interview about 811, Tim seemed to want to leave room for interpretation. But in 816, he gave no room at all. Of course, it's risky to make such a judgment based on just one episode, but if Tim wanted to bait Buddie again, 816 gave him plenty of chances. At the very least, he could have had Buck and Eddie hug—but the only interaction between them was, "I should’ve been there.", "Hey, You're here now". After this episode, I saw quite a few Buddie fans finally realizing that Tim has no intention of making them canon. It feels like he’s trying to wrap up existing storylines and rebuild the show in a new direction.

Of course, we still need to see how episodes 817 and 818 play out. But 8A felt like a chaotic mess with no clear story direction, whereas 8B feels like a completely different season. Bobby’s death is incredibly sad, but in a way, it feels like it breathed new life into the show. To be honest, I still have doubts about Tim’s storytelling abilities. However, at the very least, he seems to be trying to keep the show alive by not relying too heavily on one specific character. Even if a major character leaves, he’s finding ways to make the show survive through the remaining characters and by introducing new ones.

All great points, Nonnie.

I will add to your first point that they did build on Tommy's character whilst reminding the audience of his connection with Buck. Granted, it is not outright stated in 816, but it is in the previous episodes. And even in this one, we can try to read between the lines and see Maddie and Buck's moment as could-be foreshadowing (the I love you part, I mean). So the show is constantly building on Tommy and Bucktommy, even if in the background. Which, you know - very interesting.

To your second point - I will add that it is interesting that the one scene they could've had alone, they didn't. They had Ravi with them , and whilst it did feel natural, it is also a statement to have Eddie stay with Buck, yet not give us a scene of them together. Of course, we don't know if 817 or 818 will give us a (platonic, ofc) scene between them, but to have such a big episode that relied a lot on connection... it surely is a choice*

Lastly, I still think 8a was a bit of a mess (it had its good moments, mainly -for me- 805), but 8b is picking up on themes that 8a insinuated, and in turn making it look better. This half of the season is definitely much stronger (which I'm relieved by ngl).

*And I am not saying this from a shipping perspective. I think it was the right choice to not focus on any romantic B-plots, or anything that could hint at more. But I don't think Buddie has that type of scene, so I'm strictly referring to a friendship scene, the way we had it with multiple other characters - including Eddie and Ravi.

[uki01]

Hey are your asks open? If so, can I request a romantic ROTTMNT Donnie and Leo headcanons with a Gender Neutral reader who has fire powers and an affinity for committing arson? Tysm in advance!

”Dancing through Love and Fire”

Rise!Leo and Rise!Donnie x Pyrokine!Reader (Seperate)

Author’s Note: Fire and disaster twins? Absolute fire

Warning: Fire, Action, Damage

Rise!Leo

Leo’s nicknames for you are fire related, as well with making puns when it comes to you

It never stops

But he definitely loves your fire powers

Always whining for you to come cuddle him and uses the excuse of saying he’s ‘cold’

(He’s just clingy)

”Sparkkky! Come over here I’m colddd”

“Isn’t the season Summer though?”

”That’s not the point! I need your warm embrace right here and right nowww!”

This mf be always bitching non stop

Whenever you two make homemade pizza he would use your powers as an oven

Go to the beach for dates to show off your better than the Sun itself

”Hey everybody! Look at my hot partner! Who has hot powersss!”

”Leo please stop…”

He would encourage your arson if it’s against him and his brothers enemies, gets excited and starts clapping like a child when you use your powers

Thinks your very badass

Calls you for cuddling time, even if your busy

”Oh sparkkkkks! It’s time for cuddling! Come on now!”

”Leo I need to finish my homework”

”Now now now! That can happen later! Off we go!” As he drags you out of your desk to the couch

Lays his head on your lap, shoulders or hugging up against you during cuddling hours

You swear you can hear him churr

The little spoon when it’s cuddling time

Hypes you up whenever your using your powers to commit arson on your enemies

“Oh yeah get em babe! Oh hell yeah take that!”

Overall, Leo is a loving annoying boyfriend and adores your fire powers and loves you

Rise!Donnie

Donnie is intrigued by your fire powers, does study and research on you with your consent of course!

“Interesting, how were you able to gain these powers? How were you able to master it? How long does it take to burn someone?”

”How do you keep switching questions”

When Donnie finds out about your love for arson he starts engaging in it

”Yesss! Yesss! Feel the wrath of my beloved who won’t hesitate to use their fiery powers on you!”

Donnie definitely gives you some tech that helps you in your adventures

”Why please! Thank me, of course anyone would love to be in the presence of my tech! It’s very rare for someone as generous as me to give it to you”

“Donnie you always give me them everyday”

Shhh, it’s special treatment because your his and he’s yours

Whenever Donnie is feeling cold he always gets you to cuddle without saying he wants to cuddle with you

“No no this is simply for science, nothing more, so come on, on you go” Donnie pats on the couch

”You can… just ask… you know?”

Cuddling with Donnie is rare but is very very nice, he nuzzles up to you as much as he doesn’t want to admit it

Mainly him laying his head on your lap or hugging up against your chest

Starts hyping up to whenever your using your fire powers

”Yesss! Slay your enemies!”

Overall, Donnie is a caring and bit over the top boyfriend, loves you for your warmth and you

Author’s Note: Hope this is good! Loves these two twins, Leo being my favourite

[beyondbluess]

celebrating his birthday [headcanon]

author's note: hi!! hope you enjoyed :) this is probably the first piece of 'writing' that I've ever put out there. hopefully i can come out with full fledged fics soon! i have so many ideas.

warning(s): none! all just fluff here. maybe a bit ooc too?

୨୧ . . .  let’s be honest, dallas isn’t a birthday kinda guy. doesn’t matter how many times you try to convince him otherwise; the man wasn’t budging. doesn’t mean you weren’t going to take matters into your own hands though. considering that its his first birthday dating you, he had no idea what hes gotten himself into 

୨୧ . . . just a few weeks before his birthday, you had gathered the guys in hopes that you all could plan something for him– definitely something small, everyone knew dallas isn’t the one for big gestures.

୨୧ . . . you had decided that his party was going to be at the curtis’; it’s simple and very familiar. with this, you gave everyone assigned jobs: two-bit handled buying decorations, darry handled cooking, soda and steve decorated (terrible idea btw, lost a huge majority of the balloons because they decided to play ‘who could blow the biggest balloons’); you took care of the baking, while ponyboy and johnny had the biggest job of them all; distracting dallas.

୨୧ . . . which wasn’t easy, like at all. it was as if he could sense that something was up–especially with the lack of you around, definitely didn’t help that pony and johnny were trying to keep him away from the curtis’. its amazing how he didn’t find out sooner.

୨୧ . . . when he did see you, you tried to remain as nonchalant as possible–shifting the topics whenever he asked about your whereabouts; you felt bad. like, really bad–you hated keeping secrets, especially from him. but you knew this was all for a good cause.

୨୧ . . . at this point, he was pretty much tired of the whole thing, there were also a few times when you guys almost got caught, but luckily your plan turned out to be successful. by the time his birthday came around, you had some issues keeping your excitement contained–you almost spoiled the surprise right then and there.

୨୧ . . . you had told dallas to meet him at the curtis’ with no explanation whatsoever, just to ‘simply be there.’ not gonna lie, the poor boy was a bit concerned– due to the lack of activity outside and it appeared as if the lights were off inside as well. 

୨୧ . . . when he opened the door, everybody jumped out to surprise him–which, of course, scared the absolute shit out of him. (it was a bit funny to see if you were being honest) but it was his reaction after the fact that worried you. like, he wasn’t upset or anything– mainly just weirded out.

୨୧ . . . as the day went on, you could see that he started to ease down a bit–especially when you came out with his cake (you decided to save him the extra embarrassment and not sing him happy birthday)– there was just something with the way that he looked at you; his eyes were softened ever so slightly and he had a smirk on his face. It wasn’t noticeable, but it was still there. even without explicitly saying it, he knew this was your idea. 

୨୧ . . . eventually everything calmed down and you found yourself outside sitting on the porch–not even words could describe how exhausted you were. you heard the door open behind you and a presence took a seat beside you. you already knew who it was. you intended to apologize for springing everything on him, but the look on his face said otherwise. dallas isn’t the type to express himself through words, you knew that–but the way that he looked at you at that moment spoke more than words could ever express. you scooted a bit closer to him so that your knees were touching, taking a moment to gaze into his brown eyes. it was as if he could read your mind; just before you could make any moves, his lips met yours.

[woradat]

SCENARIO : THRONE AND FALL

PAIRING - megatron x senator reader

I love politics and all that. It's fun to write

Cybertron was cracking at the seams under a system rotting from the inside out. Senators were vanishing—some swallowed up by the old powers clinging to their last shreds of control, others suddenly struck with the horrifying revelation that the utopia they helped build might actually be a festering corpse in a pretty frame

And you? You were one of the very few still willing to hold a conversation with

Megatronus

—that once-idealistic writer from Kaon who somehow climbed the ladder from poet to proletariat messiah to public enemy number one, depending on who you asked. You didn’t agree with his extremist nonsense, of course. But you also weren’t naive enough to pretend he was completely wrong

You weren’t here to be a hero. You weren’t interested in sacrifices, revolutions, or statues in your honor. All you wanted—really, honestly—was for the system to keep functioning… preferably without dragging you to hell in a flaming dumpster of ideology

—

“I help you.. because I want the world to change in a way I can still survive in. If you’re a tool sharp enough to get the job done, I’ll use you"

“And if I turn out to be a blade that cuts you instead?”

“Then I’d better hope I break the handle before you break the rest of me”

“What I want.." you said, leaning back into your chair with the casual languor of someone bored with everything except the game at hand, “is the right to survive without ending up as dry scrap under the wheels of your revolution”

You tilted your head slightly, tone as dry as old energon rations

“I’m not aiming to be some grand architect of destiny. I’d just prefer not to be flung out of orbit when your world starts spinning a little too hard"

He shifted—just a little. Barely enough to notice. A twitch of the mouth, the flicker of restrained amusement. Not quite a laugh, but close enough that it annoyed you

“You play deep” he said. Voice unreadable. Could’ve been praise. Could’ve been a warning

“And you play rough" you fired back without missing a beat “Someone like you needs a spark to light the charge. Me? I’m not fire. I’m just a matchstick—one that’s going to cost far more than it’s worth if you try to strike it without negotiating the price first”

Megatron’s optics narrowed, a slow and dangerous focus settling over his face

“And what’s your price, Senator?”

“Oh, I don’t sell,” you replied, that acid grin curling on your lips “I’m the match that lights itself”

·

·

Your dynamic with Megatronus was the kind of power struggle that made political theorists cry blood and Decepticon spies beg for popcorn

He didn’t trust you. Not one bit. But he couldn’t quite ignore your voice, either—not when it echoed in the cracks of the Senate halls, not when others started repeating your words. You spoke to him like an equal, even though technically, you were several rungs below his revolution-slicked boots

He constantly tested you, poked at you like a scientist examining an explosive—trying to figure out what your angle was, where your trap lay buried

You never lied. Not once. But you never told the whole truth either and he knew

There was always a tension—like sitting on a high ledge with a fraying rope between you. A quiet question under every word: “Are you going to betray me?”

Sometimes you’d hit him with the truth so raw and pointed that it actually shut him up—a rare feat, considering this was a mech who once made an entire Senate weep with a single speech. Because at the end of the day, you weren’t his comrade. You weren’t a true believer

You were a variable, gamble, wildcard with just enough bite to be useful and just enough teeth to be dangerous and for now, that was enough to keep the blade unthrown

[ladymrf]

so I'm back with more sad (?) sht

....

"I thought you were off the streets today?"

The voice modified by the helmet reaches Tim, he doesn't turn to acknowledge Jason, just waits for him to approach, Jason comes to the edge of the roof and looks at what Tim is observing hidden.

A few rooftops away, Batman and Robin fight a fair amount of thugs, Bruce and Damian alone, they are good, of course they are, familiar fighting styles and Tim swears he saw Bruce smiling at Damian's skills at some point.

"What? Planning to pull a Red Hood on the kid? No offense Red, but we both know the problem is the Bat, never the Bird."

Tim frowned and looked at Jason in confusion.

"What? No. I mean, sure it sucks to be replaced by a kid after having been through so much shit in that position, but no, God, I can't pull a Hood on the kid, that would be stupid… No offense."

Jason knew very well that he meant to offend.

"So? What are you doing here? Reviving the old habit of stalking?"

"No, I just needed to make sure you two were well adjusted to each other, I'm pleased with what I've seen so far." Tim stepped away from the edge of the roof "Finally free."

"Of what?"

"Of the weight." Tim answered easily, he looked at Jason with a hint of curiosity "I understand all the bitterness of losing the mantle and the place in the family, I really understand Hood, but didn't you feel relief?"

Jason considers in silence for a long time, Tim realizes that probably not, Jason was dealing with a lot more along with the loss of all aspects of his life in Gotham, he had lost his life in general, so he rephrased the question.

"After you stabilized a bit, wasn't it better? Easier to breathe? Without all that weight."

"Robin should never be heavy, kid." Jason looked at him, Hood's helmet conveyed the expression of displeasure very well "It should be light, because birds must fly."

"Hm. I guess you and N. were always stronger than me then." He looked back at the place where the fight was taking place "I think D. will be the lightest of us." Tim shook his head and smiled "I hope so."

"What were you talking about before? About relief."

"Isn't it a relief not to be responsible for Batman anymore?" Tim asked bluntly, Hood just blinked "If we're not Robin, we're not subject to his shit, I mean, fuck if the patrol sucks, fuck if something puts him in a bad mood, fuck if he's angry. It's not our problem anymore. It's not our responsibility to try to make him see reason. To bring him back from his dark mind to the real world. To be the light. That's Robin's job."

Jason is silent, he stares at Tim completely surprised at how relieved the boy seems, it's like a weight is lifted off him with each sentence, it's like Tim is returning to his normal posture after being crushed for years.

"Don't you think that's a lot of responsibility for a child?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, but D. will do fine, he has plenty of people on his side to intervene if something goes off the rails." Tim shrugged and with more bitterness than he should have said the next part "Someone always intervenes for him. Besides, he has Nightwing."

"We both had him too."

"Not the way he does it, you know that." Tim laughed at Jason's speech "Well, it's not my problem. Not anymore. Dealing with B. is Robin's responsibility and the current one will have to deal with it."

"You're telling me, that the first time B screws the boy over, because he will, you and I both know, you won't jump in to solve the problem?"

Tim looks at Jason, really looks at him with a look that borders on physical pain.

"Of course I'll go." Tim says easily, "Because I want to, because Robin is a child and we have to protect children, not because I need to keep B in line. It's good to do things because you want to, not because you have to."

Jason almost asks if someone ever jumped between Batman and Tim's Robin, if someone ever interfered in their disputes, if someone looked at the boy walking next to the bat and saw a child and not the sidekick.

He knows the answer, Jason himself hasn't done it before.

Instead, he sighs and says, "Want to go blow up a gang downtown?"

Red Robin smiles at him, "Yes, please."