#seriously why is nothing properly documented

[sxcret-garden]

2nd Desire ღ Tie Me Down [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang ღ words: ~5.1k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, reader masturbating and asking to be punished for it, reader’s hands tied together, he’s a bit mean but goes soft dom when reader shows signs of discomfort, strength kink, fingering, some body worship, teasing, begging, unprotected sex) ღ warnings: (him running his hand through reader’s hair)

Desc.: Lost in your excitement over the recent development in your relationship with your boyfriend Jongho, you try to tickle more of his dominant side out of him. When he shuts down that attempt with only the best of intentions, he makes sure you won’t stay flustered by your miscalculation for long.

Author's note: chapter 2 and I'm STILL nervous about posting kasjdfölksa I hope you guys enjoy though~ alsoalso I decided to do a taglist for this fic, so if you want to be added, just drop me an ask about it <3

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You drop your bag beside the entrance as you walk into Jongho’s apartment, the little melody resounding when the door falls into its lock that’s usually just another background noise to you manages to annoy you on this day. It’s only half past 4, yet you feel like you’ve been awake for more than 20 hours. 

You slip out of your shoes and step inside, the sofa in the living room being your destination. With a groan you let your body flop down onto it, the cushioned surface softening the impact. You’ve been at university since morning, your first class of the day being quite an interesting one and almost making you forget about the dreadful events that would follow suit. For lunch you met up with other students from your major to work on your group project, and these people really remind you time and time again why you absolutely hate group projects. You’re a group of seven, yet somehow the only ones taking the whole thing seriously are you and Yeosang, a guy you’ve done a course with before and who you luckily ended up being in the same group with. You know from back then that he does his work diligently enough - what you didn’t know was how badly the other five would do. One of them ran late, claiming he was convinced the meeting would start at 2 and not at half past 1, one of them didn’t show up at all, the others half-assed their parts and one girl only did half of what she was supposed to do. It’s a mess, and it’s stressing you out, because you’re getting a shared group grade for the paper. If you were being graded individually, you would’ve already decided to just do well on your own part, and make sure to precisely document who worked how much, but since you can’t exactly do that here it eventually came to the point where you decided it would be better if you took over the lead. As the person who has assigned herself the role of scolding the others into doing their work properly, you didn’t exactly gain their sympathy, but thankfully Yeosang was right there to have your back. Sharing their disdain was still better than having to shoulder it all alone, so you made a mental note to thank him with a cup of coffee or a meal later on.

But for now you want nothing more than to get this stupid project out of your mind, and lying motionlessly on the sofa and staring at a wall without any kind of distraction from your angry thoughts running wild isn’t exactly the best way to go about that. So you get up with a heavy sigh, peeking into your boyfriend’s room through the gap in the door standing ajar, before walking inside. He isn’t home yet - you assume he must be on his way, because his last class of the day should’ve ended about 10 minutes ago. Walking over to his closet, you open the side where he made space for some of your clothes, and you grab some comfortable pants and a t-shirt you haven’t worn in a while. There’s the logo of a game printed at the front - coincidentally a game you both used to play when you were still in school, and one of the topics you bonded over as you were slowly becoming closer.

You trod over to the bathroom, figuring you should take a shower in an attempt to clear your mind first of all - maybe you could magically find a way to wash off all the frustration the day has drenched you in. Either way, at least the warm water raining down on your skin has a calming effect on you, and so for a few minutes you merely stand there, doing nothing. You reach for the soap eventually, and as you’re cleaning yourself your thoughts slowly drift elsewhere.

Until you remember the conversation you had with Jongho about establishing a different kind of dynamic between you two. Your fingers dance up your body to your throat, and padding them onto your pulse reminds you of what it felt like to have his hand in this position instead. The thoughts of the project are quickly forgotten, yet your cells have not quite let go of the frustration yet - but that’s nothing a quick orgasm couldn’t take care of, right?

So you let your hands wander, allowing them to map out your own body wherever instinct leads them, and as your fingers find your core, you let out a long sigh. This feels like just what you need right now, so you don’t hold back, beginning to draw circles onto your sensitive bud. Feeling your limbs relax from the sensation, you lean your back against the wall, and eventually you reach out for the shower head, changing the setting to the highest pressure and letting it do the work for you.

You don’t think of much at all, simply enjoying the pleasure coursing through your body, until you can sense yourself coming closer to the edge, and you buck your hips up against the water jet.

“Fuck…” you whimper, as a scenario crosses your mind. “What if he finds out…” You gulp at the thought of Jongho figuring out you got off without him, in his apartment, and your mind begins to wander as you fantasize about all the ways in which he might punish you for it. Another curse escapes you through gritted teeth, and soon you feel your high crashing down on you, walls clenching around nothing as his name falls from your lips.

You step out of the shower feeling refreshed, purposely not changing back the setting of the shower head. You want him to catch you, want to know about all the things he would do to you that you haven’t seen him do before. Slipping into fresh clothes and wrapping a towel around your head to let your hair dry a bit before finishing the process with a blow dryer, you grin to yourself and you walk out into the living room. 

Your boyfriend comes home about half an hour later, just as you’re putting the blow dryer back to its original place in one of the cabinets in his bathroom. You suppress the excited grin that just won’t leave your lips, and instead greet him as per usual.

“You’re late,” you remark as you catch sight of the time displayed on your phone screen.

“Yeah, the subway was crowded. Should’ve taken the bus,” he mutters as he walks up to you, his hand patting your head in a gesture that’s supposed to say “I’m home.”

“Right, it’s starting to get bad at this time,” you continue your small talk.

“How did your meet-up go?”

“Don’t ask…” you brush it off quickly, hoping to ward off the stress creeping up to you again upon him mentioning it.

“That bad?” Jongho asks as he lets out a short laugh while he furrows his eyebrows, telling you he feels at least a little sorry for you.

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes. “And you? How was your day?”

“Don’t ask,” he answers, and now you’re the one chuckling. “I’ll go wash up real quick, and I think I’ll need some time to decompress afterwards.”

“Sure,” you mutter, before reaching up from where you’ve made yourself comfortable on the edge of the sofa, hand snaking behind his neck so you could pull him in for a quick peck on the lips. 

And so he disappears in the bathroom, you hear him turning on the water and you hear him turning it off again after a while, and with every passing second, the excitement for what’s to come is only growing. Except when he’s done, he simply informs you he’s going to game for a bit, and then he walks into his room. You’re confused to say the least, and a bit disappointed as well. This is not going according to the plan you had in mind, and you wonder if it’s just because he’s had a bad day or if maybe he just isn’t in the mood today. Trying to brush it off, you grab a book you started a while ago, staying out in the living room as you attempt to read a chapter or two, but somehow your mind just won’t let you focus on the story unfolding on the pages in front of you. So eventually you get up, deciding to sneakily follow him instead - you’re not sure why you’re being so secretive all of a sudden.

Your boyfriend is certainly good at reading the room, and it’s helped you leave behind your own awkwardness more than once. So today as well you decide to simply sit at the edge of his bed and watch him play his game, hoping for him to notice something’s off as you’re trying to find the right words to say. And without doubt, he doesn’t disappoint.

“What’s with you?” he asks in between rounds, his voice soft in contrast to the serious stance he tends to take on while playing his games. 

“Just…” you’re not sure how to start, how much to hint at what you want - you sure as hell aren’t thinking of just saying it straightforwardly, now that you’re beginning to feel a bit embarrassed about it.

“Hmm?” He drags out the sound a bit, then the image on his screen changes, and he adds, “Let me finish this and then we can talk?”

“Alright.” You’re suddenly more anxious than you would’ve expected yourself to be as you watch, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt the entire time. The time spent waiting for him to turn his attention to you feels like half an eternity, even though once he’s done you’re sure it can’t have been more than five minutes. He exits the game to the main menu, and as he takes off his headset, he turns to you in his chair.

“What is it?” You see worry on his face, and you immediately feel the need to let him know it’s nothing serious, really.

“Nothing bad!” you say. 

“That’s good,” Jongho answers, relief behind his words.

“Just… didn’t you… notice anything?” You rub your legs together as you avert your gaze from him, but even in the corner of your eye you can tell he’s thinking hard about your question now.

“Notice anything?” he repeats, and then suddenly his eyes narrow, and there’s an amused smile about to creep onto his lips. “Like what?” At this point you’d have sworn you could see the exact moment the dots connected in his head, so his question throws you off a little.

“Like… uhm… I showered earlier.”

“Good,” he chuckles, and you press yourself on to continue.

“And uh…. maybe got off…”

“Oh. That’s nice,” he replies, and once again you’re thrown off, this time by the way the tension in the room drops right away, and he’s now showing you a genuine smile. “Why are you telling me about that though? Want me to come watch next time?” He tries to throw in a joke, but the confusion radiating off you makes him think again, and well, now you’re sure he understands what you’re trying to get at, because he raises up his chin just a little, giving you that look that’s supposed to say “I found you out.”

“Were you maybe thinking I would punish you for that?” he assumes correctly, and you nod, heat rushing to your face now. 

“Yes…” Jongho laughs. It’s more of a giggle, actually, and the amusement in his expression only adds to your confusion. And then he becomes serious, though his features keep their softness.

“Look… I’m sorry to disappoint you but… I’m not going to do anything we haven’t discussed beforehand,” he explains, making sure to be clear about his thoughts. “My first impulse isn’t to punish you for masturbating. But if you want me to, we can talk about it.”

“O-okay,” you stammer, and once again there’s this endearing smile on his face, spreading from ear to ear. You know it’s meant to reassure you, but right now all you can focus on is the embarrassment burning in your chest from making such a severe miscalculation. This isn’t how things go in real life, of course it isn’t. You should know that, and yet-

“Hey,” he calls out to you, hand reaching for yours, giving you a squeeze to tear you out of your thoughts. “Let’s talk about it.” 

He’s also good at that - saying the right thing at the right moment. Or at least he tends to say the things you need to hear in moments like this, and once again you feel unmistakably that you’re safe with him, and that you’re in this together.

“Okay.”

“So…” letting go of your hand, he leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and you feel the dynamic shift ever so slightly as he won’t divert his eyes from you. “What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” You raise your eyebrows, and you begin to ponder on his question, but somehow your head is suddenly empty.

“I… don’t know…” you admit, and he grins at your words again.

“You didn’t think about what you want me to do to you now?”

“I mean… I did… but more… in a general sense,” you stammer.

“Like what?”

“Like… you fucking me…” And there it is again, that laugh that’s really more of a giggle than an actual laugh.

“You didn’t think about what comes before that?”

“Not… really?” you admit, and he clears his throat.

“Then how about I tell you what came to mind for me, and you tell me if that sounds okay to you?” You nod okay, and he continues, “So what I was thinking is that I could restrict you in some way… putting you in handcuffs maybe, or blindfolding you.”

“I don’t think I’m okay with the blindfolding,” you respond. “Handcuffs sounds… nice though.” 

“See? This is just why I didn’t want us to rush into this,” your partner says. “Because if we move too fast, misconceptions about what the other wants, or just about how this whole thing works are bound to go unnoticed.”

“You’re right,” you agree, being able to see where you went wrong with your assumptions clear as day now. “Then… let’s take it slow. Talk before we do stuff.” An awkward laugh escapes you as you’re speaking those words, because after all you were the one trying to rush into this, and now you can’t help but feel thankful that he stopped you just in time.

“So…” Jongho gets up from his chair, walking over to his closet and rummaging through one of the shelves, pulling out a dark red tie. “I think this is gonna look pretty on you. That okay?” You nod, merely watching as he walks over to you, and when he tells you to take off your clothes first of all, you don’t hesitate. Placing yourself on top of the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, he sits in front of you, and you hold out your hands for him to tie them together. “Not too tight?”

“No, it’s fine,” you answer, the soft texture of the fabric feeling quite good around your wrists, actually.

“I don’t have actual handcuffs, unfortunately…” he explains as he checks the knot one more time, and then he lifts one of his hands to run his fingers through your hair, eyeing you thoroughly. There’s a serious expression on his face now, he’s concentrated as he lets his fingertips brush against the side of your throat, but the way he allows for a smirk to creep onto his lips when you instinctively lean your head back to give him access tells you he’s very much having fun with this.

“You really like that, huh?” he mutters, wrapping his hand loosely around your throat, the warmth of his touch alone causing your heart to beat faster.

“Yeah…” you mouth, and to your disdain he moves on. His fingers draw imaginary trails down your body, moving slowly and deliberately, and his eyes follow their every move.

“So beautiful… too bad I’m gonna have to wreck you.” He speaks silently, and whether it’s because of the tone in his voice or his words you don’t know, but it’s giving you shivers all over and you gulp. His hand eventually finds its way to your side, snuggly fitting into the space between your waist and your arm, and he leans in to brush his lips against yours. It’s a short kiss, yet he lingers there for a few seconds before pulling back merely a few inches - the kind of kiss that’s meant to make you want more. “Want me to punish you, hm? Then, what if I push you a bit? Be a little less nice than usual and not give you everything you want right away.” You suck in a sharp breath at his words. “You’d like that?”

“Y-yeah,” you say, tension building up. You’re not sure what exactly he has planned, but you know he wouldn’t push you too far… right? He wraps the fingers of his free hand around your wrists, and as he brings them up above your head he pushes you back into the mattress, carefully, gently. And yet you don’t miss the dangerous glint in his eyes as he’s now gazing down on you, hovering above you as he pins you against the bed. Lowering his head, he makes you mewl as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he scatters a few nips here and there.

“What’s your color, dear?”

“Green… very green,” you sigh, feeling his weight on top of your chest. 

“That’s good,” he speaks quietly as he comes back up, his face now being right in front of you and the tips of your noses touching for one short moment. You think he’s going to kiss you, but then he sits up instead, letting go of you to rid himself of his shirt. With every movement of his you can see the outlines of his muscles working underneath the skin, and the urge to touch him, to run your nails down his chest and his stomach, makes you bring your hands up. For a moment you forget that they’re tied together, and you frown at the restraint, and before you can do anything more, your boyfriend is quick to click his tongue at you as he reaches for your hands and pins them back down above your head.

“Wanna touch me so bad, hm?” he assumes correctly, and then he adds, moving closer to your ear, whispering sharply, “No touching unless I allow it.”

“O-okay,” you mutter. You can unmistakably feel the power he has over you now, both in the way you don’t have the strength to free yourself from his physical restraint, and in the way you feel yourself immediately submitting to his verbal restraint. 

“Stay like this,” he then says and you nod as he sits back up. This time he lets his palms run down your upper body once as he kneels on top of you, going over to dragging his nails down your skin once he reaches your hips and doing the exact thing you would’ve craved to do to him. But you obey, waiting patiently for his next move. “So pretty…” he mutters, his intense gaze burning on your skin, and after having his hands wandering all the way back up, he leans in to leave a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. And again there’s this urge to move your hands, to throw your arms around his shoulders as his lips are mapping out your features, but you can’t. You shouldn’t, and so you resist.

He kisses his way down your stomach, biting your flesh here and there without applying too much pressure, and the way he’s taking his time with it doesn’t help your case as you’re having an internal battle against your own impatience. Rubbing your thighs together as he’s hovering just above your core and he’s touching you everywhere but where you need him the most, you reach your breaking point.

“Jongho…” you call out his name. “Please.” He merely chuckles at your plea, not even looking up at you now.

“What?” His voice is low, quiet. Calmness radiates off of him, like he knows that he has all the time in the world for this.

“T-touch me please…” you mewl.

“Hmm,” he makes a noise as he appears to be thinking about your request. “But do you deserve that?” You let out a whine at his question, and you frown when he crawls all the way back up, only to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “Do you deserve my touch when clearly you decided that you can also just do the job yourself?” He moves up further, his lips brushing against your wrists just below where he tied them together, and then against the knuckles on your fingers. “Can’t get yourself off now, can you?” He places his hand over yours, pushing your wrists into the fluffy blanket as if to put an emphasis on his words. 

“Please…” you start another attempt at getting him to do what you want, but he merely sends you a smirk. 

“You’re choosing the shower head over me and now you think I’ll give you what you want so easily? That’s naive.” You frown, and you pout up at him, and for a second his features soften, before he moves his hand from your wrists to your chin, tilting it up slightly. Then he places a kiss onto your jaw, and he asks, “Color?”

“Green…” You idiot - you add in your mind, and when he comes back up to get a good look at your face, you can undeniably see the amusement on his face.

“Didn’t think you’d like being treated like this so much,” Jongho comments, and then he lets his hand wander from your chin down to your lower stomach. “Really makes me want to do this all day.” Fuck. You gulp at his words, thighs pressing together just as he slips a finger in between, dragging it up your folds once, and you don’t expect a singular touch to affect you this much, but you find yourself arching your back as you moan in response anyway.

“Relax,” he says, tapping your thigh once, and you do, spreading your legs apart just a little to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate to make use of that, watching for even the tiniest of reactions as he gathers your juices on his fingertip, moving it back up and making you whimper as he begins drawing circles onto your clit. You buck your hips into his hand once, causing him to sit up so he could use his other hand to press them back down, immobilizing you. “So needy…” he breathes as he continues on, watching you, and granting you a few teasing touches to your wet pussy. He slips a finger inside, drawing another moan from your lips, and when he adds a second one, pumping them in and out of you at an unhurried pace, you think you could cum on the spot. And he notices the way he’s affecting you, because now he asks you with a cocky smirk on his face that bodes no good whatsoever,

“You like that?” You nod, whimpering, and when he pulls out, the feeling of deprivation that overcomes you makes you whine with anger - though you don’t sound nearly as angry as you would’ve liked. “Too bad.”

“Keep going, please…!” you try to beg, and it seems to strike something deep within him, because now he raises his eyebrows at you, listening intently.

“What was that?”

“K-keep going… please… please…” you add, the desperation in your voice being obvious. “Don’t stop now… w-wanna cum on your fingers…”

“I’m sure you do, dear,” he whispers, leaning in to place a soothing kiss onto your tummy, but it just makes you more furious.

“Please!” you cry out, balancing on the edge between pleasure and frustration, and you know that you wouldn’t want him to push you any further. For a second you wonder whether you should tell him, ask him to go easier on you even though you were the one who wanted him to punish you so badly. But he seems to notice your inner conflict, and his smirk softens into a benevolent smile as he brushes his lips against the inside of your thigh now.

“Is that where the line is?” he asks, and you hesitantly nod. He comes up to comb his fingers through your hair, brushing away a strand that’s sticking to your forehead. “Then let’s not take it any further than this, okay?”

“Yeah.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing against your lips, and he questions,

“What do you want me to do, love?”

“Fuck me… please…” you say with furrowed brows, and he chuckles at the sight in front of him. Caressing your cheek as he slowly takes his hand away in order to rid himself of the remainder of his clothes, he retorts,

“I can’t believe someone could say something so dirty with such an innocent expression on their face.” And now that you’re becoming aware of what you must look like right now, you find it funny too, and you let out a short laugh.

Your boyfriend places himself on top of you, one hand wrapping around his length in order to give himself a few strokes until he’s fully hard, while he has the other placed next to your head to support his weight on top of it. “Wanna hold onto me? Or…” You shake your head. “Want me to pin you down?” Adrenaline rushes through your veins, making you tingle all over from the thought of it, and you nod. Again, he seems amused by your reaction. “After all that you still want me to manhandle you, huh?” Him saying it out loud fills you with bashfulness all of a sudden, and still you feel the need to confirm that he’s right.

“Yes… please,” you mutter. He positions himself in between your legs, aligning himself with your core.

“You good?” he asks, and when you give him the okay he pushes into you. 

“Fuck…” The feeling of having him finally filling you up makes you hiss a curse as you’re throwing your head back from the overwhelming satisfaction. Jongho reaches for your wrists, pinning you down just like you had asked, and he leans in, his nose brushing against the skin right in front of your ear.

“Can you do me a favour, then?”

“Wh-what?” you stutter, impatience building up inside you again.

“I want to hear you beg for me again… can you do that?” You whine as he rolls his hips into yours once, and without hesitation you grant his wish.

“Please… please fuck me…”

“Mhm… that’s right…” he mutters, and from the way his voice changes as he begins slowly thrusting into you, you can tell he too has been exerting himself holding back from touching you properly more than you thought. 

“Please… feels so good… b-baby please…” you keep going, your moans turning into mere whimpers when he reaches down between your bodies in order to tend to your clit. “F-fuck… w-wanna cum on your cock… wanna cum so bad…!” you whine, racing towards your high at lightning speed. 

“Shit, you’re perfect,” he utters, his hips beginning to stutter, and the groans falling from his lips becoming more frequent. “So fucking perfect.”

You cry out when your high comes crashing down on you, hands formed into fists and your nails digging into your palms. Once again you try to instinctively throw your arms around your boyfriend’s shoulders, and when you meet resistance as he’s still pinning you against the bed, your mind is flooded with that much more pleasure. He cums with a broken moan as you’re beginning to come down from your high, whining from the overstimulation as you let him thrust into you a few more times, and then he collapses on top of you.

Both panting, he lets go of your wrists and you immediately bring your arms up to put them around his frame, and this time he lets you. Eventually, after catching his breath, he rolls over onto his back, sitting up and undoing your restraints.

“You feeling okay?” You nod at his question, your eyelids too heavy to open, but you smile at him.

“More than,” you mutter, and when he lies back down beside you, you snuggle up close to him. Reaching for your hands, he holds onto one of them, thumb rubbing circles against your wrist, and when you look up you find worry in his eyes. “I really am okay, baby,” you whisper one more time, and he instinctively brings your hand that he’s holding onto in closer to his chest.

“Okay…” he just says, trusting your words, and you send him a sweet smile. Freeing your hand from his grasp, you bring it up to his head, fingers combing through his hair.

“Thank you…” you say, slurring your words a bit as the blissful afterglow of your high lingers in your mind. Your boyfriend lets out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation of you massaging his scalp. “For being careful. And for taking care of me so well.” And now there’s this smile creeping onto his lips. It’s barely noticeable, and yet you can tell how your words are affecting him. And in the next second he throws his arm around you, catching you by surprise as he pulls you on top of himself and engulfs you in a tight hug. He says nothing, you know that sometimes it’s hard for him to speak his mind in moments like these, but by now you know him well enough to know what he’s trying to convey with his actions. You giggle at the way he presses a kiss to the side of your face before having you rest your head atop his chest, loosening his embrace a bit to allow you to lie down comfortably. You too snake one arm around his waist, and with your heart swelling with your love for him that seems to know no end, you bury your smile in the crook of his neck.

[fizzing-imagines]

Hawkins | Billy Hargrove x Army! Reader | Neighbourly Love Series

Notes: Some people have been screaming at me to write more of this couple so here u go!! I hope you enjoy it as much as the OG. And I subtly added one of my OCs in this lol

Warnings: None, I think.

Words: 931

"Well, well, well, if that isn't Harrington." You rolled your eyes at Billy's words as he stepped out of your car. After months, you were finally in Hawkins, Indiana to attemd his sisters wedding. "Hargrove.", Steve said in a slightly unpleased tone while you stepped out of the car. "It's (L/N), Steve.", Billy corrected him. "Jesus Billy, you're acting like a damn dog.", you said while opening your backdoor and letting Missy jump out. "You seriously found a wife?", Steve continued. "Yes, Steve, he did. I'm not invisible, you can ask me.", you said while locking your car. He looked at you with an embarrassed facial expression. "I'm (Y/N), by the way, and yes, I married him two months ago." Billy took your hand in his and started walking towards Lucas and Max's house, leaving Steve confused in the driveway. Their front door was wide open as people were going in-and-out while making last preparations for the wedding in two days. "Max?", Billy yelled while looking for his little sister. She popped her head out of one of the doors once she hard his voice. "Hey Billy.", she said with a smile. The two exchanged a quick hug.

You stayed in Hawkins for a week so Billy and Max could catch up and properly introduce you. Honestly, the two of you had a shotgun wedding and didn't even tell anyone until the day after. You made it quickly so you could have him move with you two your new base and home in Pearl Harbour. So when Max, Lucas and their friends El, Mike, Dustin, Will, Robin and Billy's 'arch nemesis' Steve with his wife Olivia were sat at their dinner table something that has been on your mind spurted out: "Billy told me you could explain to me why he has so many scars.". Everyone went silent all of a sudden and starred at you, then at Billy. "I told her she wouldn't believe me if I didn't have you here.", he said in his defense. The group shared a look, silently deciding if they should tell you or not. You, on the other hand, could tell that they were highly uncomfortable with your question. "Oh, uhm, sorry...", you mumbled while getting back to your drink. "No, it's...fine.", Max said. "You didn't know...uhm..." She was struggling to find the right words. "You can easily get access to the files at base here.", Olivia chimed in. "I didn't know that there's a base in Hawkins.", you said to her. "How did you get to them?" Olivia grinned at you. "76th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, Sergeant Olivia Harrington.", she said like it was nothing. You, however, gave her an excited grin. "EOD Mobile Unit One, officer (Y/N) (L/N)." The two of you shared a laugh. "Why didn't you tell me?", you continued. Luckily, this changed the mood around the table. "Well, someone" Olivia gave her husband a stinky eye. "didn't want me to talk to a Hargrove." You rolled your eyes in a joking manner, and Olivias words made everyone at the table giggle, some even laughed. "Sucks for him.", you said with a shrug.

Olivia took you to the Hawkins base the following day, the two of you in full uniform. While walking through the halls with her, Missy right by your side, she greeted some soldiers like old friends. It seemed like she was stationed here before. "There we are.", she said while opening a door. While there were many computers in here, there was also a wall with a lot of shelves, filled with documents. It didn't take her long to find one labeled 'Starcourt Mall, Hawkins, 1984.' She quietly handed it to you before showing where to sit down. It took you a while to read through it, but you understood the big picture of what happened. "So it was claimed as...a supernatural happening?", you asked after a while. "I was there.", Olivia said. "It was...I don't even know what it was. But it was huge, and I think I shit my pants when I saw it. Well, then it got Billy.", she continued. Missy noticed how much the story concerned you and gave your hand a boop. You pet her head in response. "I was able to stabilise him until the medics arrived." That part wasn't mentioned in the file, so your eyes went wide. "You saved Billy?", you asked. "Well, to the best I could at least." As she finished her sentence, you arms wrapped around her neck and pulled her into a hug. "Jesus christ, thank you.", you choked out while trying to hold back your tears. At this point in life, you don't know what you'd do without Billy. Naturally, you appreciated her even more now. "Don't start crying on me now, officer.", she said while patting your back. "I just did what I had to do."

Later that night, when Billy and you got into bed in your motel room, you cuddled up even closer to him and planted kisses all over his face. "What's up with you today?", he asked you with a light chuckle in his voice. "Happy you're still here.", you mumbled while burying your face in his neck. Billy knew what you meant by that. How could he not? Eight years later and he remembered that day at Starcourt like it was yesterday. He didn't reply to your last words, but he did wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer to his chest.

Billy, too, was happy that he was still here.

[pmd-whatliesbeyond]

What Lies Beyond - PMD Roleplay

"The Se'lai Region? Why would you ever want to head there of all places?

... Alright, fine. I can tell you what I know about it, but I wouldn't be getting any bright ideas if I were you. Something wicked has been coming their way for quite some time now, and those poor fools can't do a thing about it."

Back when the region of Unova had still been planting its roots, many citizens of the flourishing Castelia City would find themselves increasingly frustrated with the sudden change of leadership that came from the city's officials. This new surge of power would lead many officials and residents of Castelia City to disband from the Unova region altogether and go in search of more prosperous land, eventually settling in what is now known as the Se'lai region as they quickly formed the settlement of 'New Castelia'.

That was about a two hundred years ago now, most of the region's modern inhabitants have all but forgotten their ancestors reasoning to settle where they had chosen. If they had only known better, maybe they would've simply chosen to keep heading west.

It's difficult to pinpoint exactly when the first truly unnatural disappearance had occurred. Travelers often came and went as word of more prosperous settlements down south began to spread, with most tending to leave without much of a farewell. Though if you were to ask, most residents would tell you the same tale of a young woman who had lived our near Starfruit as the first of many disappearances. The catalyst of things to come. The disappearances would slowly begin to creep upwards from the 25 years after the first alleged incident, naturally causing public paranoia and distrust to rise alongside it. Most of the former residents have long since abandoned the once promising region of Se'lai, with most who haven't choosing to move into the safe, secure walls of New Castelia, leaving only those too oblivious, too impoverished, or simply too stubborn to give up on the towns they'd grown up building.

For the citizens within New Castelia, life has been nothing but business as usual. The only time you'd remember the region around was been slowly falling in on itself would be whenever an inevitable Persim or Starfruit recruiter passes either by looking for an extra addition to their ranks or begging for table scrap donations, as if anyone would be keen on leaving such a secure, easy way of living.

The two other remaining settlements of Persim and Starfruit have since become unidentifiable from the peaceful startup community they had been a few decades prior. With most disinterested civilians moving far away, both towns have almost entirely devoted their remaining populous to tracking down the unknown force behind it all.

Formerly that of a wholesome lumber mill, Starfruit sits off to the far east. Believing the attacks are at the hands of a separate group entirely, they follow a no nonsense strict set of guidelines, complete with scheduled group patrols, combined living spaces, and mandated curfew times. Suspicion is commonly thrown around to anybody daring to disobey their set parameters, and they vehemently distrust the true nature of the supernatural hunters that live across the region.

Though the town of Persim might appear to be much more mellow, they take their documentation incredibly seriously, often making far riskier ventures out into potential sighting or unknown areas despite their relative inexperience. They hold the belief of the attacks being the cause of a much more "cryptic or otherworldly being", and seek to find properly identify and dispel the creature. The more out there of the two groups for certain, though it can be said that their tenacity has provided them with substantially more evidence to back their claim over Starfruits own.

---

PMD: What Lies Beyond is a literate, slow paced RP server with thriller elements! The server is set in the purely original Se'lai Region, based off of Yellowstone National Park and the surrounding Montana/Wyoming area, and has a large overarching story that will progress & be revealed over time, with a handful of arcs planned after the current one is finished!

Currently on Offer:

A space entirely run by LGBTQ+ staff

An overarching plotline where the mystery depends on your characters' actions!

Three different factions, each with their own lore

Fairly lax character rules, for creative expression

A friendly community who are eager to help new users out

A 17+ safe for work environment

If the server interests you, feel free to click the link below and check it out!

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Protocol Mug - Day Three

Welcome to day three! I actually enjoyed writing this. The dynamic between Asset and James is barely in existence, but the few videos they interact are some of my favorites. So enjoy.

Prompt: Hand-painted mugs

Characters: James and Asset

CW: Mentions of distrust, reverse of progress, worries about the future, a hint of mystery, fluff if you squint. And I mean if you squint like you’re half blind and are trying to see the details of a mosquito’s wings. Might as well get a fucking microscope at this point, minimal cursing 

Masterlist

Asset followed the security guard down the hall, the noise compressors installed into their body silencing the otherwise loud metallic footsteps they would have had against the linoleum. They stared straight ahead, line of sight bypassing the security guards shoulder.

The day had started out simply enough. They had powered on Marcus would have said they should use the term "woken up" because it made them more relatable to humans, which would improve their social standing, and picked out an outfit to wear today. Granted there was no variation. But they could pick out which white long sleeved shirt and light gray pants they wished to wear. Footwear was unnecessary and their installment team wanted to test the noise compression updates. They were partial to the socks commonly found within a human hospital that allowed for the wearer to find friction on the ground for movement. They liked the soft sound of it sticking. Plus when they were well and truly alone, as much as they could be, they could turn the sock around and use the fabric to slide this way and that.

They had been waiting for the first summons or appointment when the security guard had come to get them. That only ever meant one thing. They were going to meet with James.

She didn't acknowledge them as she knocked on the door to James' office. She only departed when the door was pulled open and Asset was greeted with his smiling face. Smiles can't be trusted. Don't start now.

"Good morning. How are you doing?" James asked them as they entered. The bionic eyes shifted in their sockets, documenting every new and little shift of their surroundings before they took their usual seat.

"I'm well. All my systems are functioning properly, and the new upgrades appear to be working as the installment team had hoped. As for my emotional health, nothing today has gone wrong to cause a dip within my... happiness." They answered, hands folding in their lap as they looked at James carefully. "How are you this morning?" James smiled at them, but it was soon replaced by a frown. Their emotional detection reasoning spun as they tried to orient and assign an emotion to the expression on his face.

"A bit troubled if I'm being honest. I'm worried about you. Do you want to tell me what's going on?" They seriously doubted that he needed anything from them. After all every activity they participated in, whether scheduled or not, was documented and reported to him and his own teams. So he would know everything. They looked away.

"I don't know what you are referring to. Please specify." They replied. It was a demand, but James knew they meant it as a question.

"Gladly. The newly appointed lead for your social protocol team reported you as uncooperative and disinterested." If they were human, they might have flinched. But they weren't, so they remained still with their expression carefully maintained. "And it's only with your social protocol. I can understand how it might unnerved you, but is there another reason why you want to avoid all interactions with the team?" He asked. They wished he hadn't been so thorough with his question. It had been purely analytical, so there was no room to dodge or leave information out. He certainly had a knack for getting to the heart and root of all of their problems.

They fidgeted with the stitched hem of their shirt. He knew it was on purpose though. Every action that seemed accidental was always done on purpose and thought through.

"I don't want to risk something like the code happening again." They muttered and James nodded with a sigh. They didn't like it, but they kept the opinion to themselves. They watched him lean against the edge of the desk and cross his arms over his chest.

"That's understandable. But these protocols are important to your connection to humanity. And you have to have that connection to have true and unshakeable motivation to save us. It's unknown what you'll encounter but we have to make sure you'll never waver." He said, sympathy coating his words. They nodded along with a frown. "Would it help if it was someone you could trust?" He asked. They stared at him before their shoulders moved in a shrug.

"I suppose if I already had a solid basis of trust and mutual understanding, it would make me less apprehensive to allow my social training to resume." They relented, unsure of where the conversation was going. They knew everyone that worked with them, but that didn’t necessarily mean they trusted them. The only person they could think of that they trusted was Anton, but he was on the team that focused on installing upgrades. That was what his contract was for. They watched as James nodded as if he had gotten some clarity. They still remained confused however.

“Alright. Do you trust me?” He asked, still staying where he was. They eyed him before copying his open stance. It wasn’t a perfect replication, but the flaws in it were also made on purpose.

“I suppose so. However, I don’t have a lot of data on you. While you have been very forthcoming with information in the past, you also held some information away. It brings into questioning what else you’re not releasing to me.” They responded. James’s smile didn’t go away, but his eyes remained guarded. They weren’t going to pull anything new from him, but that was expected. If they had been trying to get more information from him, they would have continued their line of questioning. Instead they leaned back in their seat and dipped their head a few calculated degrees towards him. James clapped his hands together, signaling a change in the conversation direction.

"Well then. Now that you've established you trust me, with some added tidbits, how would you feel if I took over your social protocol training? At least until you built a relationship with your new team lead and member, or until we found a suitable replacement. Whichever comes first I suppose." He asked. Asset paused at the offer, genuinely caught off guard. It didn't happen very often since they were usually able to predict outcomes. Then again, James had always managed to trick them. So they shouldn't be surprised. Although it was a very human thing to do - becoming surprised by the typical behavior of an individual.

"You have enough recreational time to set some aside in your schedule to take part in my training, James?" They asked skeptically. James didn't answer them, but the question was more rhetorical than it was literal. They nodded, as careful as usual. "I suppose that would be an acceptable temporary arrangement." They responded and James nodded, straightening up as he walked around his desk to the other side.

"Perfect. I figured that we would start now since you're already here. Is that okay with you?" There were a few possible reasons for the consistent check ins. It could be because James was that type of person, he wanted to keep their trust, or he was trying to get them to trust humanity as a whole once again. They guessed it was a mix of the latter two.

"I have no complaints with doing so." They responded, watching curiously as he pulled out a plastic shopping bag. They leaned forward slightly as their eyes grew wider. There was a soft mechanical whir as their pupils audibly zoomed in. James pulled out a couple art kits and he watched with amused interest at the way that Asset replicated the soft scrunch of their nose and the disinterested lip curl that was so present upon human expressions. "You want to do arts and crafts for my protocol training? I don't mean to bring doubt upon your methods, however... unprofessional they may seem, but I must question what painting clay pottery has to do with learning the social behaviors and patterns I'm meant to emulate of the human species." James laughed softly at their confusion as he opened one of the boxes to pull out the kiln-dried mug from its protective styrofoam casing.

"True true. But it's not the act that is the protocol training. It's the act of the bonding over such a project. I admit I also want to test your creative cylinders. But humans are social creatures, so we seek anyway of bonding. Plus I figured it would be a nice way to ease into this arrangement." He said, waving the mug harmlessly by the handle. Asset's eyes tracked the movement before their gaze shifted to lock eyes with James.

"Observations tell me that you have no inclination how my social team teaches and trains me." They deadpanned. His smile turned sheepish and he shrugged. His eyes never lost the guarded calculating look though.

"Guilty as charged. I can put the mugs away if you'd like." He offered. They stood up and walked over to grab the unopened box. They turned it over in their hand before meeting his eyes again.

"Negative. I'll take part in your scheduled activity. From my understanding, conversation is often present during such activities, often leading to mistakes being made which provokes frustration. I have multitasking program installed, so I shall not get frustrated. What would you like to converse about?"

When James had first met them, their speech had sounded slightly off. Just a nudge away from sounding genuinely human, bar any slang. But after the Marcus incident they had been distancing themselves further from more human speech patterns. It was what had provoked James to intervene in the first place. The concern that they would distance themselves as much as possible from humanity as a whole had been the more concerning factor. The sense of duty to save humanity had already been established, however they also wanted the Asset to desire to save humanity. It would make them try harder and cut no corners.

"It could be anything you'd like." James answered as he pulled out his radio to request a small table to be brought into the office for the two to work on. He watched as they sat down on the floor, carefully and methodically unboxing the mug. He wondered if they would purposefully cause bits of the styrofoam go splinter off like it would under a human's clumsy hands. But they managed it without much mess and collected little bits that came from it scraping against the flimsy cardboard of the box.

"I have nothing to say or contribute. Choosing topics are often in my clearance as well. The privilege was revoked since my topic of interest was always..." Their voice trailed off, body and expression stilling. The silent name was practically tangible. And for a moment they could almost feel his fingertips drifting along their sensors. They shuddered and refocused on the mug. They didn’t look up as the door clicked open and two people entered, carefully carrying a table as the third held the door open. James waited for the door to close before grabbing an edge of the table and scooting it to where he desired.

"I was serious when I said that whenever you changed your mind we could pursue legal action. It might be a bit difficult because of the memory modification, but we have legitimate proof of his crimes.” James offered gently. They looked at him, their head already moving in a shake.

“I would prefer to just try to let it become less detrimental within my memory hard-drive. It’s better to let it not get in the way of my progress.” They responded as they picked up the mug and painting accessories from the floor to bring it to the table. It was at average knee height so there was no need to drag a chair over. They moved towards it on their knees, holding the objects close to their chest. It was a very human behavior, although James didn’t bring it up. He carried his own project and sat down on the floor across from them. The cold temperature of the tile below the rug brushed along his thighs. He was sure that they were able to detect it. But it wouldn’t bother them.

“Alright. I just want you to know that the offer was still on the table.” He said as he leaned an elbow on the table, fist supporting the weight of his head, as he eyed the mug calmly. They stared at him, trying to analyze and sort his behavior. Giving credit where credit is due, he looked very relaxed and open. Too bad he couldn't mask the expression in his eyes. Unless he was leaving that open on purpose. Or was that a mask hiding different intentions itself? "You're trying to read me again, aren't you?" James asked, his attention now returned to them. There was no point in lying.

"I'll admit there was never a pause or lull in my analyzing. It's always active and directed to any organic lifeforms in my vicinity. Isn't that what some of my program updates' purpose was?" They answered. They grew confused at the appearance of a crease in their... what was he... owner? Boss? Manager?’s forehead. He didn't give them a chance to ask a question. He simply wet his brush before dipping it into the paint palette and began to carefully move it along the mug. They stared before mirroring the action. They hesitated before letting it touch the dried clay though, thinking. They let the brush touch briefly in intervals to let it place small green circles over the expanse.

"Have you decided what you want to talk about?" James asked. They glanced at him, but he was still carefully constructing a pattern out of their view.

"Yes, I have realized a conclusion to your inquiry. I would like our topic of discussion to be about you. It seems only fair considering how you already know everything about me. Especially since you been on this project since before the start of my operating. Don't you agree?" They asked. It was a little passive aggressive of them, but if it would get them what they wanted, it was a small price to pay. Silence filled the room as James considered his answer and they waited patiently. After a couple minutes he responded slowly. Carefully.

"What about me specifically?" He asked, looking up from his project to regard them. They washed the green away from their brush before putting yellow on one side and making small brushstrokes of the yellow to make repetitive small rectangles.

"Have you always resided within this nearby vicinity?" They asked. James shook his head without pausing to think. It meant that it was a safe question for him to answer. And that meant that some information was being held away from them due to the danger factor of it. How many threats were there?

"No. I travel around some for my job. This is just one of the longer stays." He answered. That didn't surprise them. They had scientists, programmers, doctors, ect. from all over the place brought in under NDA and contract to work on the project. Project being them of course. Of course there were those who didn't mind it as much and those who did. Like Brian. Although was that just because he had to leave his family?

"Do you have family, James?" They asked, the volume of their vocal compartment lowering. It was the most human they had sounded for a while if reports were to be believed. There was a pause this time and their grip tightened slightly on the shaft of the paintbrush, applying more pressure to their mug.

"Yeah, I do. My..." His voice trailed off as he paused to think again. He corrected himself soon after. "The person I care about is waiting for me to come back." He finished. They nodded, understanding the feeling, if a twisted form of it.

"I apologize for keeping you away from your loved one." They added a couple moments later, remorse filling their tone. James smiled.

"This is important. You are important. My partner understands this to some extent due to the confidentiality of this project. Besides, once you succeed, I plan on spending more time with them again. So don't feel sorry for existing. It will be thanks to you that I'll be able to see them again by the end of it." He said. They nodded, not offering a verbal response. The topic was moved away from James, as well as their end goal. A part of them wanted to ask what would become of them once if they completed the goal of saving humanity. Would they be repurposed? Held in some kind of mental frozen animation in case they were needed again? Scrapped?

“What happens at the end, James?” They asked suddenly as they used the water to help blend some blue and violet together so they could get the intended gradient effect on the handle of the mug.

“The end of the book? I haven’t finished it yet, so I don’t know.” James answered, misunderstanding the direction of their question.

“No, at the end of my mission. What happens to me?” They looked up to see James smiling and they frowned in return. What about their question brought him enjoyment? 

“That’s a really human thing to wonder. Improvement. But to answer you question, I don’t know. That would be outside my jurisdiction. I’m high up there, but I still answer to people. It would probably be the decision of the project originators. Which is a council of people when it comes to answering that. I hold no sway there.”

Out of all the information within their grasp, all the statistics they were able to run, variables to account for, educated and often correct assumptions to make, the answer of their future was always out of their reach.

A soft buzzer sounded and the door opened. They looked up to see the face of a security guard to act as their escort. “It’s time for their physical, sir.” The guard said. James sighed and nodded, standing as well.

“Alright then. Next time I suppose. Thank you for meeting with me today. I’ll see you again in a couple days, is that alright?” They stood, hesitantly leaving the partly finished mug on the table. 

“Yes, that’s fine.” There was only an illusion of another answer choice, but they appreciated the structure of a question instead of a demand nonetheless. They dipped their head to James before following the guard out. The door to his office closed behind them. 

James turned towards the table to look down at the paints, cups of water, and two mugs. He picked up the Asset’s to look at it. As soon as he did, he swallowed at the sight, a chill running down his spine and his jaw tightening. He stared at the design on top of the blended background. How the fuck did they know what a shade looked like?

[old-antecedent]

Love-Letters and The Fifth Era

Much ado has been made over the "love-letter" purporting to be of the fifth era. The same for the text that followed it. I have been asked several times for an interpretation, and since it has precious little bearing on anything, I shall give it freely here for my own convenience. For the uninitiated, a certain mystic "found" a missive somewhere and claimed it was from the future. A copy of it (and of all his rambling nonsense from before and after) of course resides in Apocrypha. Later, the same fellow penned a long vision of the future titled "C0DA". The full text of the letter can be found here, and C0DA can be found here as an illuminated manuscript. I wish not to get into the various idiosyncrasies of Karkuxor's revelatory processes, the nigh-mythical stories some tell of his exploits, and his various works or lack thereof in important historical moments. It does not matter. These texts are to be seen by the shadows they cast on reality. Numidium is the 20th section of C0DA, and its climax. As such, it holds the essence of Karkuxor's argument. It is a verbal clash between purported dunmer Jubal-lun-Sul and the Numidium, brass god of the dwarves. Sul represents the side of love, and Walk-Brass represents the side of hate. This is the primary lens through which Karkuxor see the world. It is a struggle between smiles and frowns, harmony and discord, acceptance and rejection, etc, etc. Love defines the good, hate defines the bad. These are not simple "war is hateful" platitudes. Any good thing can be re-classified as a form of love, any bad thing re-classified as a form of hate. The dwarves and their god are motivated by rejection, by violence, by short-sighted hate. Almsivi and their people are guided by long-term love. You may find this an acceptable coloration of the world. Very poetic, very elegant. Wraps everything up into a neat package with a little bow on top. Except, do you really think Almalexia should be considered on the side of love? Should fucking Molag-Bal? Yeah, I don't buy it. Reducing all conflict to uncomplicated good and evil is stupid at best. Sometimes it forces you into nonsense, like pretending Dagoth Ur's charitable intent for the people of Tamriel excuses corprus. The other idea argued for in this confrontation is total subjectivity. Numidium wants a definitive answer. It was developed specifically to find one, after all. Sul decapitates it after lecturing it about subjectivity and tricking it into agreeing with the existence of shades of grey. Karkuxor's intent could not be clearer. Objective truth does not exist in the Mundus. This moves in concert with the total lack of veracity the documents have. Nothing in Karkuxor's images of the future can be trusted. This is intentional. How could you expect anything else when it descends from that parade of self-serving lies and insufferable ego, that myth-building nonsense masquerading as philosophy, the Sermons of Vivec? It is openly subjective, built around a core of mythic word salad that is compelling to its author first and foremost. These texts may be some grand revelation of the future, or they may be whole-cloth creations of Karkuxor's strange mind. That is the point. No one can decide the future concretely. There is no one in charge of Nirn, not really. You can choose whatever Tamriel you want. This is the other important moral of the love-letter and C0DA. And this is precisely the problem. C0DA intends to argue for endless personal interpretation while also heavily pushing its own interpretation. Why take Karkuxor's claim of universal subjectivity seriously when his claim of love is so much louder, so much less compelling? It drowns out any other possible read on first pass. The prose does not merit a second pass. The ending of the words is this: the love-letter and C0DA are far too convoluted and masturbatory to properly convey "love is the only force for good" at the same time as "choose whatever Tamriel you want". Which is a shame. That's a very good message to lose.

[mwildeboyii]

Lemme present my own Riddler Boy... [I usually write him in Portuguese on a Facebook RP btw]

My Ed is constructed by personal headcanons and interactive scenes. His back story wrote by me based on multimedia. So let me talk about the arcs.

The Ballad Of Edward Nashton

The Prince of the Puzzles: this chapter is about the classic story of puzzle competition, but on my version Ed wasn't a good student, actually Eddie had problems at school, doesn't seems he had any interest or at least that he was mentally present. But someday Teacher Nordine (who doesn't even knows Eddie's name properly) threatened him with participation or death "or you join the schools game or we will call your parents blablabla" so he did and discovered something that he was really good: games and competitions. Ed found there attention, but also rivals who doesn't liked that the boy was winning most of the logical and board games.

Materialising Thoughts: here Ed became a teenager, now he is a brilliant student and he learned to treat school as his safe place. He hates come back home and his anger became higher everyday. In this chapter Ed will struggle with lots of intrusive thoughts, some unhealthy behaviour and finally he will free himself of his dad and mother and he also run away of Gotham tho. It's a chapter with lots o fiscal violence and mental issues, some self regulation tactics and self harm too. Also we have some gender questions and a best friend x first love (and yes, happens to be the same person, a girl!).

"Are you incapable to keep you mouth shut?": After runaway, Ed found a job in a highway Amusment Park. Now he doesn't speak, he doesn't have a name, but his good ideas for gambling shines. Yes this is a side quest chapter where Ed is in a long term nonverbal, he became a golden goose of the park, but things will go wrong and Ed will take his money and runaway again. (if the working class produces everything everything belongs to it -q)

Thy name is E.Nigma: Now our riddler boy will spend his next year's solving his identity. Forging himself since the birth. New back story with echoes on his own, and a dead parents in his back. With fake documents, illegal money (well washed, thank you very much), Ed is planning his own rebirth in Gotham City.

Year One

Once Upon a Time in Gotham: Edward Nygma is a Gotha U student and a consulting forensic scientist (he is a Sherlock Holmes itself). No he doesn't work officially for GCPD, but very frequently he is hired to solve some issues for the PD (whe they does not hire Ed, he just entered without permission because he want, and this annoys alot some cops). At the University, Ed have problems with grades because he wants to study everything, so is a great mess. He also start dating Antonie, the theatre guy and conveniently became part of the company for a while, until the broke up moment. Yeah, he is living his best life, the one he planned for himself. A little bit of taxes crimes, misterys to solve, an academic life and a very very sweet boyfriend, who wait the right time... Nothing can destroy this strawberry life, right? (Oh and here we are presented to Nina/Echo, Pamela Isley (Poison Ivy) and Dinah L. Lance (Black Canary). [Pammys and Nina are Ed's bffs based on the rp dynamics between me and my Pammys🥺 who date Dinah btw].

"Seriously, Nygma. You need help.": Lack ofstimulus make him vexing... But the thing is, everything goes wrong when Ed saw his mother with another man and two kids. Twins... Now he is much more obsessed with work and please and seeking attention. He is freaking out for real, but he cant tell anyone why is that. So 3 times Ed will listen that he needs help: first time in the University from his advisor, then he will listen from Antonie during a fight that precedes the break and finally, from Bullock who is pissed with a nerd doing much more than he and also shooting riddles all the time. Well he do find help before a terrible crise wich dump him in a psychiatric hosp for a night where he will meet Doctor Albert Marin, his new PSYCHIATRIST.

The Golden Heart Episode: During this one, Ed will have to solve a strange crime, a dead body mummified with a plastic heart full of pee. The mystery will be solved in a week or something, but Ed and the detective Bullock will struggle with this for a month and so. Also, Ed is seeing Doctor Marin biweekly and taking some psycomeds... He already figured that the doc is playing him as a lab rat, still Edward feels someway motivated to keep going. I risk to say that Edward is attracted, specially because of the attention and the curiosity of the Doctor towards him. (We also have one of my favorite parts, it's a Towel Day when Ed is in his apartment with Nina listening the old audio series of hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy, drinking his own version of Pangalact Dynamite when Bullock and Dinah Lance appears to discusses the Golden Heart case).

What is black, white and red all over?: Oswald Cobblepot bleeding the hell out of him? Yeah, roommates era adapted by me.

How the Riddler got his name: Robberies as spectacles, trophies and whatever else. Yep there's a connection between The Golden Heart Case and th Penguin and the lack of stimulus? Is a chapter where Ed broke the egg once again. The meds are messing up with him, he needs attention and blablabla, so The Riddler in his very very green suit. Of course: Query and Echo, a bit o kink stuffs and BDSM clubs and hmm kidnapping. Batman appears here but I never find a Batman role player who wished to rp with me. (mostly because of my communist queer subtext tbh). [[ OH AND ONE OF MY FAVOURITE MOMENTS HERE THO! Edward first time in Iceberg Cassino, very very Art Deco Themed and Oswald is such a 20's diva mommy here!

Home Sweet Asylum

Adaptation and Transference: First month in Arkham and Ed will be jumped between the doctors and therapist. He is adapting his routine and mapping the whole place, figuring every patient and being a solvers to every problem but his own. Is during this chapter that we will be presented for Harleen Quinn, she is already locked and she also force a friendship with Ed until he just accept her in his life. The chapter ends with Ed bonding with Harls and also finding a psychiatrist who wants to take his case.

Doctor Fear and The Arkham Break: Well, aren't you happy that you found a psychiatrist, Edward? NO! HE IS POISON ME, WHY ARE YOU WRITING THIS SHIT? Ha... So Jonathan Crane also using Ed as a lab rat, but now is worse because Ed is being under fear toxin without know and... oh dear... THIS IS BAD. But we have some good moments here like when Harleen decides to made clandestine therapy with Edward. We also had a Arkham break out wich one Edward and Harleen doesn't participate (Edward because he is in a horrible state of mind, dealing with fear and chemical dependency and believing that maybe he belongs in Arkham. Harley bc she is trying a Conditional.) The chapter ends with an Oswald visit and the date of Edward judgement.

The Copycat: Riddler copycat will bump on the city and Ed will help the PD to solve the crimes and claim back his identity... I mean he is almost reformed, not Riddler anymore Ahm... No, not a bit. Crime solved, Harleen released and... Why Jonathan is not Ed's psychiatrist anymore?

Good Conduct: Ed struggling with the lack of toxin in his blood, no Harleen anymore and also needing to improve his body and mind health. Dark times for our dear Eddie boy, but he is trying and in the end... Well his fight wasn't really a need because The Penguin had played for his dear boy being realised.

To be continued...? (I have 3 more arcs, a malewife one with mayoral era, a Arkham city conflict with hints of Riddler Factory and a properly Riddler factory with a Reality Show where he bonds with Poison Ivy and torture billionaires in a island with poisoned conundrums 🥺)

(@arabriddler template.

¹ Not the best English, but I was having fun writing this blog so... I AM NOT SORRY, my psychiatrist said that I do can commit mistakes, it's okay.

² If anyone would like, I am open to RP with whatever character but Poison Ivy and Lucy Quinzel. I'd really like to have a Batman, Oswald pr Jonathan. Would be funny.

³ if anything, my rp profile is: Ed Nygma :3

That's all folks

[selfless1978]

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TURNING INTO A MARTYR

Leo put the paper down on the desk. A sigh of frustration escaping him. Nothing here could tell him anything that he didn’t already know. There had to be something missing.

“Leo?” Donnie walked up, new papers in his hands. “I was finally able to dig deeper into her background. Sorry it took me so long, some of the information was difficult to come by. Especially school reports.” He handed them over to his older brother.

“Thank you.” Leo murmured and began to read.

And his frown deepened as he did. What was on these papers explained a lot to him. The more he read, the more he shook his head in disbelief. “God dammit.”

“What?” Donnie had walked up and brought two mugs with him, one full of coffee for him and tea for Leo. 

“Have you read through this?” Leo asked wearily as he leaned back in his chair, or Donnie’s chair rather since he was using Donnie’s desk.

“Not the specifics.” Donnie replied, handing Leo the mug of tea before sitting on the edge of the desk. “Just browsed to make sure it was documentation I needed on her.”

Leo rubbed his face. “Donnie, I have to say, after reading through all of this, I’m not surprised at how she turned out.”

The genius raised a brow at that. “Mind elaborating?”

Leo sighed and dropped the papers on the desk. “How much can one person take before they snap.... Donnie, she was just six years old when this all started. She was molested by a family friend. He didn’t get caught until after her family moved away. He targeted a friend of hers, and when she refused he killed her with a hammer. She testified in the murder trial. But he was never tried for what he did to her.”

“Good god....” Donnie mumbled.

“It doesn’t stop there. He was found guilty, and got a life sentence. But she most certainly did not have the best life afterwards. School was very difficult for her.” Leo leaned forward and started to sort through the pile of papers again. As if he tried to send some of his calm influence through to the troubled girl described within. “She was bullied relentlessly. Apparently because she was one of the, if not the, poorest children and her grades were just enough for her to graduate. It was never properly dealt with and went on for years”

Donnie nodded slowly. He could easily see how the two could be connected. “What happened after Highschool?”

“She joined the Army. Military Police. There isn’t a stain on her record, except for a court martial she had to testify in. She was raped by one of her leaders.”

“Oh no....”

“It gets worse, he only got three months in prison, and it wasn’t even because of her case. They found him not guilty in her scenario.”

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here.” Donnie sighed.

“I thought you might.” Leo said with a frown. “Anyway, she left the service after 3 and a half years. From what I read, she has a seriously messed up ankle. Bad enough to where she couldn’t run. There was even a suggestion from one of her physicians that she receive a medical discharge. She had just started her physical therapy appointments when the paperwork came in to release her from the service. No medical. They threw her out for ‘failure to adapt’. She got nothing. No medical help for her ankle whatso ever.” Leo looked at his brother again. “That killed any dream she may have had of becoming a police officer, or staying in the military.”

“I’m almost scared to ask what happened next.”

“She worked.” Leo replied. “First as a security guard, and was laid off when the company went belly up. She bounced around after that. She did get married, and it fell apart when her daughter was just over two.”

“She the youngest?”

Leo nodded. “Her son was born a year and a half earlier. Her ex was the one who actually filed for divorce, after leaving her with no money or vehicle. She ended up getting fired because of that. She bounced around, I’m not sure why exactly. But her jobs from then on weren't the greatest. Convenience store clerk, low paying warehouse employee, etc. After awhile, she got laid off again and she just disappears from all the records except for state assistance. Until almost two years later. That was when her kids were taken from her.”

“Which brings us to now.” Donnie was running his thumb over the handle of his mug thoughtfully. “Dad ever help out with the kids?”

Leo’s face took on a mild tone of anger. “Not enough to make a difference. And the child support she got from him was laughable.”

“Leo, a few of these things alone is hard to deal with. But it seemed nonstop with her.”

“And that’s just the broad outline. She had also deployed, twice. Both in high risk areas. Who knows really what she experienced there.” 

“She does.” Donnie replied somberly. “You said she seemed hateful towards everything. I think I can understand why.”

“Not everything.” Leo corrected as he looked at another piece of paper. At the two small children pictured with their mother. “She follows no laws but her own.”

“Dangerous life for a mother.” Donnie was also looking at the picture.

“Even more so if she believes this path is the right way to challenge things. Those kids will end up with a martyr for a mother.” He stood up suddenly, his face determined. “And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.”

@infuriatedleprechaun @raisin-shell

[billconrad]

Working With an Editor

    When I think of an editor, I picture an old person hunched over a desk behind massive organized piles of paper with a red pen in their hand. They magically know how to spell every word (in every language), memorize the entire thesaurus, and contain all the knowledge in the universe. They use this intense wisdom to perform tasks like Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator. They ruthlessly find and correct every single mistake without ever sleeping.

    In some ways, this far-out description is accurate. Editors locate most mistakes, and they usually have a relentless attitude. However, they are much more than that. They check facts, look at flow, move sections around, check logic, alter descriptions, delete junk, ask questions, and make comments.

    Authors write from their perspective, and this is an enormous problem. For example, an author might use “trippy�� five times on each page. Why? That is how they speak. Of course, this reads fine to the author but annoys readers. An editor would see this tick and reduce this word use.

    This example also highlights a significant failure of programs like Grammarly. One of my ticks is to describe something, and two sentences later, I describe it again. Grammarly never catches this mistake.

   Yet I keep hearing that editors are now obsolete because of artificial intelligence. Nothing could be further from the truth. Why? Editors look at the structure, flow, and overall tone. They might delete sentences, move them around, and add comments. For example, “Expand this section.” “More about the motivation.” “This makes little sense.” “Unnecessary, consider deleting.”

  Editors also check facts and logic. For example, “WWII ended in 1955.” A simple mistake like that would upset readers. Programs can never know what to do with such a sentence. Does this story contain an alternate reality where this is an accurate statement? Is this statement from a student that incorrectly answered a question? Or is it a genuine mistake?

    There is a downside to working with an editor. First, they make me depressed that my grammar, spelling, and story concept is not better. They also bland the overall tone in the name of good sentence structure. “Dis is a funky-fresh day. Yo!!” Which is changed to, “This is a nice day.” A properly edited document is less edgy, but the result is universally understandable.

    The worst part is when an editor confronts me that something big is not working, translating to, “You have failed as a writer.” My only condolence is that the hardest lessons are the most important.

    It is essential to locate a superb editor. How? I looked up reviews and asked them to send me a document they had edited. Then, I look for mistakes they missed, comments, and their results. If their approach matches my style, then I give them a chance.

    Editors are people, and they have quirks, strong opinions, ethics, and they make mistakes. To further complicate matters, an author can have their work reviewed by multiple editors. But what happens when one editor thinks a sentence should read one way, the other likes it another way, and Grammarly/ProWritingAid corrects it to another? The author turns into a rag doll in a fight between four dogs. Remember that, ultimately, this is your work.

    Another challenging part of working with an editor is that they are expensive. Expect $40-75 per hour. As an unprofitable self-published author, this expense represents a significant burden, but to be taken seriously, good editing is essential.

   Now that you have an editor, it’s time to come clean with all your dirty laundry. Tell them about your writing ticks so that they know what to look for. Ask the editor to be completely honest. It is far better to have an editor say something is wrong rather than 100 critical reviews.

   The most important part of working with the editor is to know how to use them. Never think of them as a stupid tool. Grammarly, Microsoft Word, and ProWritingAid are stupid tools. They only do what they are told. (Fix grammar and spelling.) Yet, they do it very well. Here is a sentence that is perfect for a stupid tool to correct, “Jim met sally at the playyground.” “Sally” is not capitalized, and ��playground” is misspelled. Programmers designed those tools to deal with these basic spelling and grammar problems, and there is no excuse for a writer not utilizing them before sending a document to an editor. Also, remember that editors are people. If you give them a stupid document, they will think you are a stupid writer and not put in the effort to help you.

   It is essential to provide the editor with the absolute best document possible. This means reviewing your work at least twenty times (self-editing) and using Grammarly/ProWritingAid. Show your work to friends (beta read). The feedback is instrumental even if they do not have a writing background. You want comments like, “This section makes little sense.” “Why did Bob leave the house?” “You keep saying trippy.” These comments are gold mines. The result is a more robust document so the editor can better apply their skills instead of mucking about with trivial stuff.

   Another way of looking at this is that with a proper sentence, the editor can see the big picture. Changes to a proper sentence will be much better than changes to a poor sentence. Also, reviewing edits is much clearer because the editor did not clutter the document with grammar fixes.

   And finally, trust your editor. You need to pick one you trust and go with their changes. What if the changes do not look correct? Email them back. If they stick to their guns, go with their advice. This can be difficult, but editors are a writer’s best friend. They distinguish between a rabble of words and a polished document.

    You’re the best -Bill

    September 23, 2023

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

The other thing I want to take over (well, like everything because most people are incompetent and it's easier to do it myself than deal with aggravation) is because we do not have at least the major department I work in well documented.

For instance, we have a spreadsheet with names we use for each client who uses ach. We have no such list for checks despite the fact we all have to find the checks that we've processed on a giant list of department processed checks which is sorted by name -- so no, there is no coordination.

Also, there is no procedures file or manual. Just notes, which cover only things that occurred to my boss, which is to say most of what you'd need is missing, set in weirdly colored excel sheets that actually make it harder to read, using terminology that you don't know unless you already know how to do it.

Now, *I* write step by step instructions for every process I learn. Because I hate to look stupid asking a question I should already know, not any sense of organization.

In the past I have taken this, streamlined the language and format -- I am a writer, I know how to be clear, I just don't bother here -- and built training manuals, complete with a section of commonly needed cheat sheets and corresponding shared drive files, so you can use the manual when you start and make a paper copy of the cheat sheet if you like that or have a doc of it on your computer if you prefer. It has never failed to improve training and overall efficiency.

But pretty sure I'm gonna get told "we've always done it this way" and I'm gonna be seen as the problem child, especially because I could tell them a couple dozen things to fix within my first two weeks.

(BTW, the other department I've trained in at all, I'm never in, does have a cheatsheet for one thing... in size 6 font. Yeah)

And where in my foolish youth I just put it together in my off time and gave it toy boss, so I could demonstrate the advantage -- no one has to use it but it's available for people who need it. Which means you're saving everyone time and reducing errors from people guessing because they were too embarrassed or didn't know to ask.

Now? I'm happy to do all of it... on the clock, after hiring me on directly. With a raise since they no longer have to pay the agency.

How long does one have to wait before saying "this is all mess, give me an extra $5 an hour and I'll double your production while making workers lives easier."

(Any boss tells you that can't happen, I figured it out at 19 with no business experience or education, yes it most definitely can. And the company even saves money because staff turnover goes down unless someone is a dick -- in which case, regardless of position, get rid of the dick. That lesson came directly from the owner when I was 19 and said I was quitting now because my boss was a bitch with specifics, so he fired her. That man was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company for decades.)

But somehow I think that will end badly after two weeks, even though the problems are that apparent.

This is why people hate working for corporations-- they do fucking stupid things stupidly abd no one stops them.

[zayeaw]

fake dating/ eren

cw; fluff, attempt at humor, a lil angst and eren's cocky but we love him&lt;3

wc; 1.2k

a/n : lemme just give a huge kiss to @aesrin for sending me this request.

“you’re crazy! my parent’s will never believe that you’re dating me if you don’t even know what subject I studied in college!”

Eren smirks and puts his hand over your shoulder, dumping nearly all his body weight onto you.”I don’t think they’ll believe that I’m dating you either way. I’m too hot for you.”

You push his hands away, rolling your eyes before walking over to your desk. You rummage through a pile of papers and find the document you took a print out of. Eren noticed how your lips part a bit when you’re concentrated.

“did you bring the paper I asked you to bring?” you ask him, fanning yourself with the document you just took.

“the one where we write important stuff about ourselves so that we can memories it and know each other better?”

“yes. That one.”

He nods and puts his hands on his back pocket and takes out a tissue, mind you, a fucking tissue paper which looked like it was folded 10 times. He opens it and gives it to you.

You decided to not make any comment on it because all he’ll do is give you a witty comeback and it’ll boost his ego when you won’t have anything to say back.

“here.” You shove the document you had onto eren and leaned on the desk crossing your arms. ”read it, it has every info you might need about me-“

“nah, I’ve got better things to do.” He says, putting the document away. “ I don’t wanna read about that crappy shit you’ve done in life. Its boringggggg.” He yawns and it took everything in you to not punch him.

He’s cute when he yawns though. Fuck why are you even thinking that now.

“eren.” You say, your eyes darting toward his lips and you pray he didn’t notice it.

“fine. I’ll read it.” He clumsily flips open the file and skims through the first two pages.

“eren!”

He looks up at you and mouths a what?

“ Read It properly!”

He mimics your expression before beginning to read the document properly.

You sigh and unfold the tissue eren handed you.

Yeah ,just the first sentence he wrote made you wanna roll out of your apartment window down to the traffic.

“did you fucking seriously write your bowel timings in here?”you ask him, exasperated

Eren looks at you. “yeah I did, when couples live together they usually know each others bowel timings you kno-“

“yeah and my parents are gonna ask me at what time you take your shit?”

“perfection, (name). that’s called perfection. If you know everything about me there is no way you’ll screw up” he says looking at you smiling with his teeth and you knew damn well he’s playing with you right now.

You read the next line. “Okay what is this crap? i’m lactose intolerant, and drinking lactose products induces fart in me.” You look at him again. “you think this is a joke.?”

Eren looked like he was trying his best to not laugh. “that, infact is not a joke. I get uncontrollable farts when I drink milk. You shouldn’t make fun of my medical condition (name). “ he shakes his head dismissively like you were a child who stole candy.

You decided to ignore what he said and flipped the paper. He was going on talking about how his mom had to remove the ceiling fan in his room because of the smell and you just stared into the paper, reading nothing.

“are you being serious right now?.” You finally say, putting your hand on your forehead.

“I can make fart noises with my armpit.”

You closed your eyes . he’s such a pain in the ass.this was too much you almost wanted to laugh now.

Eren saw how your lips almost turned up into a ghost of a smile. God, he’d do anything to see that look plastered on your face. If he thought you were beautiful before, you smiling just redefined his definition of beauty.

How can he tell you that he dosen’t need to read the document you prepared for him because he knows every single thing about you. That the colour of the top you were wearing is your favorite and you slighty bop your head when you listen to music and when you eat something you expected to taste bad but it turned out good you raise your eyebrows ever so slightly. He also knew that you loved it when he’s being an idiot around you. And he loves the fact that he can be an idiot around you.

These weren’t the stuff you or anybody told him. These were the things he noticed on his own because for the love of god he’s so in love with you. But he can’t let you know can he? How can he tell you that he wants this fake relationship you’ve both had been having for a month now to be real.

You walked over to him and hit on his arm with the paper he handed you before, bringing him back to reality again.” Your homework is to re-write this.”

“no I won’t.” he says, his lips smirking.

“what are you smirking for?” you ask him. You wish he would stop doing that because it was so…distracting.

he considers it for a moment.

“no.i won’t.” he repeats but his expression forced into seriousness now.

“You’re such an idiot.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him.

Don’t smile. Don’t smile. Dont smile.

You smile anyways but he can’t see it so its okay… Right?

“name?”

You turn around to look at him again, sucking in air so that the smile you had before vanishes.

“are we gonna kiss in front of your parents?” he asks you, his head tilting to a side making it seem like an innocent question.

Your face heats up.

Fucking cocky bastard.

You take a moment and then cough. “why would you ask that?”

“ you know. We need it to look smooth so I’m thinking, why don’t we practice it?” he blinks, as if he’s suggesting to eat pancakes instead of bread for breakfast.

You stare at him. “why don’t we practice me kicking your ass because I’m getting an spidey tingle that I might do that a lot in the future.”

“oh so we’re gonna get married too?”

This boy is gonna be the death of you.

he wishes he could take a picture of your face right now because on god it’s so cute, he wants to fucking ruin you with kisses right now. Which he wouldv’ve if..if this was a real thing.

He raises his hands up in defeat. “okay, okay im kidding. Just say that you suck at kissing and move on”

You give him a look and walk past him. “sounds a lot like you have feeelings for mee” you sing

Erens eyes shoot up, his body froze .was it that evident?.

“im just a very good actor. Isn’t that why you picked me to be your fake boyfriend or whatever.” He almost stutters but you don’t hear it.

Your heart sinks a bit but you ignore it “anyways, just don’t mess up the next week.”

“are you doubting my acting skills? Because let me tell you, I can act very well alright.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help but wonder how different this would’ve been if all this wasn’t an act.

And all eren could think of was how he wished you knew none of his feelings for you is or ever was an act.

Reblogs are always appreciated&lt;3

edit: i'm thinking of doing a part 2 for this bc some of you asked for it. you can add your username in this form (link) if you'd like to be tagged on it hehe

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Chasing Shadows (7)

AO3 -> first, last, next

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary:  THIS  IS A CROSSOVER.  As Bruce Wayne begins to slowly recover from the loss of his son, two   separate mysteries open up old wounds. Who is the unknown leaving clues   hinting at a return to Gotham, and who is the phantom pretending to be   his lost son? Is it just a coincidence they’re active in Gotham at the   same time? Or are they connected?  

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr

“Batman!”

Bruce glanced to his left to see Phantom rushing towards him moving through the tight alley as if there was no debris or criminals with weapons before silently coming to a stop. Unlike the other times he’d seen the meta, the boy had seemingly paid no attention to his surroundings. He also kept to his right while trying to keep his hands still. Definitely nervous, but why?

“Phantom.” He greeted as he punched another one of the low-level grunts still trying to fight him. With his associations with Red Hood now well documented, Bruce was teetering on going back to his original plan of capturing him. But he hadn’t harmed anyone and had even helped Stephanie escape Black Mask. Whatever his goals, he hadn’t strayed from attempting to help them. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Did nothing come through on the comms? Don’t answer that. That can be saved for later.” The teen shook his head before letting someone with a bat harmlessly pass through him. The criminal in question dropped the weapon and fled in fear. “We need to go!” His voice was becoming frantic.

Pressing a finger to his comm as he knocked out another gang member, he attempted to reach Barbara, but he heard nothing on the other end. Not only was it strange, but it was also worrying. “Explain,” he instructed the teen, who had started dodging gang members.

“Spoiler is in trouble. You need to go to her.”

“What happened?”

“She’s injured. We need to go, now!” There was desperation in his voice he hadn’t heard before. Unless he was acting, Phantom believed the injury was severe enough that Stephanie couldn’t handle it herself. “Hood’s trying to help, but he doesn’t think he has what he needs to properly treat her.”

“The Red Hood is there? And you just left her with him?” Dodging another blow, he threw a bola towards the three that were approaching Phantom. The teen let it harmlessly pass through him and tie around two of the criminals. The third tried to grab Phantom, but unlike every other time he’d seen the boy interact with the various criminals and rogues of Gotham, he jumped out of the way before punching the guy. It was a move achingly familiar.

“She’s a lot safer with him than she was with Black Mask.” Insult colored his voice. They really needed to find out the reason why Phantom was so loyal to Red Hood, especially after he came to them about Hush. Whatever issue that caused that temporary break in trust between them had seemingly been resolved. “But are you seriously going to continue messing around with these idiots?”

If Stephanie was in trouble like Phantom stated, he needed to finish this and get moving. However, there was a distinctive possibility he would be led into a trap. He needed more information.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re seriously going to finish this first? Right. Guess I have to do something drastic.” As he said that, the air around them seemed to cool until the breaths of everyone, save for Phantom became visible. The strange glow around him intensified as his appearance seemed to blur. The gang members, many of whom had already become uneasy by the teen’s presence, slowed their assault. Bruce caught the barest hint of a smile before the teen let himself fall into the ground.

The gang members immediately began to back away, some muttering about spirits and ghosts. That wasn’t too surprising as many of the criminals of Gotham were superstitious. Yet, he wasn’t sure exactly what Phantom was planning.

Seconds later, Phantom appeared behind one of the lieutenants and reached his arm through the man to grab his gun and pull it harmlessly through the man. Once it was out of the man, he held it up as if he was presenting the end of a trick before putting it on the ground. The man who experienced it, grabbed at his chest to make sure he was whole before fleeing an abject horror. The others, having witnessed it, also fled.

Satisfied with himself, he gave a slight nod before turning back to Bruce. “Now that that’s done, follow me. I need to get you to Spoiler.”

“Give me the coordinates.”

At the request, the meta seemed to blankly stare at him for a moment. “If you’re going to follow, why…? Wait, you don’t trust me? Unreal.” He shook his head and gave him the location and which room Stephanie was supposedly in. “Just don’t attack Hood on sight.” He vanished from sight.

As he began his trek, he attempted to radio the others. There was still silence from Barbara, but Tim, Cass, Dick, and Selena all checked in. Everyone, save for Dick, who’d been grazed by a bullet, were unharmed. Stephanie was also suspiciously silent which lent credence to what Phantom said, but it could also mean she was captured. Still uncertain whether or not he was walking into a trap, he requested Tim to meet up with him and for either Dick or Cass to check on Barbara. Selena agreed to check on Dr. Thompson and let her know that he might be bringing someone.

The building he found himself entering was a three-story office building near one of the railyards. Judging by its appearance, it hadn’t been used for clear work for years. As he located an unlocked window, Tim reached his side. Upon entering the building, he sent Tim to clear the upper floors as he made his way to where Phantom stated Stephanie could be found.

Entering the basement, he found the Red Hood kneeling in front of Stephanie, who appeared to be sitting unrestrained on a chair. Instead of listening to his desire to attack the man, Bruce took another moment to examine the scene in front of him.

The former Robin was gripping her pants as if she was in pain. Her left sleeve had been rolled up, and a make-shift splint had been placed on it. Her left pant leg was also rolled up, and it appeared Red Hood was finishing tying bandages to it. Bloody gauze and an open medical kit rested beside his boot. Whatever happened, it was unlikely Hood was the cause.

Steph’s head snapped up when she noticed him. “B, you came.” Although she tried to sound strong, her voice held notes of pain and relief. “Black Mask got the better of me. He got away. I’m sorry.”

When she shifted, Hood gently smacked her uninjured leg. “Stay put. That leg needs proper attention. Standing on it isn’t going to do you any favors.” Even through the modulator, concern could be heard in his voice. Hood then stood and turned slightly to better face him. Though his face was hidden, Bruce could see the tension in his shoulders and how his fists balled. He wasn’t happy to see him.

Briefly, Bruce noted that the man’s jacket sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms. There were no signs of the strange green marks from Dick’s video. They were unlikely to be tattoos then.

“Move away from her.” Although he knew a confrontation was going to happen with the man eventually, it wasn’t currently the time. Not waiting for the other man to make a move, he rushed forward and knelt to check on her. “What happened?”

“She just told you, Black Mask,” Hood responded before Stephanie could. Even through the modulator, Bruce could hear the anger in his voice. “I sent Phantom to fetch you at least fifteen minutes ago.” he hissed causing his modulator to make a strange crackling sound.

Electing to ignore Red Hood’s words, Bruce focused on Stephanie. Other than her wrist and leg, her injuries appeared minor, just bruises and cuts. The way her arm was splinted suggested either a bad sprain or a possible break. As for her leg, Bruce wasn’t entirely certain of the damage. There was evidence of gauze hidden under the expertly done bandages with some bloodied gauze on the floor near her feet. As he finished his checks, Tim radioed he’d cleared the other floors and would be joining them momentarily.

“Word of advice, Batman,” Hood warned as Bruce stood. “Sionis is dead set on killing anyone who gets in his way. If you want to keep these little birds alive, keep them off the streets.”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be able to handle anything.”

At the sound of Tim’s voice, Hood turned to find the boy standing in the doorway. Both of them seemed to stare at each other for a moment before Hood turned to face Bruce. The man’s fists tightened, and if Bruce wasn’t mistaken, green markings were beginning to form on what was visible of his skin. “How many children are you going to brainwash into being your good little soldiers.” He turned back to Tim and gestured at Stephanie. “Black Mask shot her in the leg before deciding he wanted to finish the torture session I interrupted the other day. Between what he was planning to do and the apparent lack of care Batman,” Hood’s modulator seemed to crackle as he hissed the title, “gave about checking in on her, there’s a good chance she would have been dead before anyone came to check on her.” His gaze seemed to return to Bruce. “Did you learn anything from your first dead bird?”

“You don’t have the right to speak of him,” Bruce warned as he stood and protectively hovered in front of Stephanie. The more Bruce and the others interacted with him, the more it seemed he was acting as an avenger for Jason.

Even through the helmet, it seemed as if Hood rolled his eyes. “Your priorities are skewed. Spoiler is injured and in need of medical attention, and you want to pick a fight. You had a chance to prove me wrong and choose the kids over fighting a crimi... Hmm?” He paused mid-word. If Bruce wasn’t mistaken, he was listening to someone speaking on a comm. “He what? Shit. Stay put. I’m on my way.”

Without another word to Bruce or the two teens in the room, Hood turned and seemed to harmlessly pass through the wall and vanished. Bruce immediately went over to the spot to check for evidence of a hologram or some type of cloaking, but he touched solid brick. It was still possible there was some sort of cloaking that ended when Hood passed through the opening and closed the entrance. However, the action reminded Bruce too much of Phantom’s powers for his liking.

“Robin…” he couldn’t finish his thought as a loud booming sound seemed to rock the entire building. An explosion, but where? It felt like it was within the city limits, but not close enough to do damage to the building they were in. Was that why Hood left? Had someone, possibly Phantom, tipped him off? That was likely, but for now, he needed to find out the specifics.

“Oracle, come in. Oracle.” The only answer he received was static. That was concerning. He needed to get to the Clocktower. Turning, he found Tim slowing helping Stephanie off the chair. “Robin, get Spoiler back to the cave. Make sure to tell Agent A to call Agent L while you’re on your way.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to get back on my own.” Steph tried to put on a brave face, but it was ruined when she jostled her injured leg. “You’re going to need backup.”

“Between myself, Nightwing, Catwoman, and our other allies in the city, I’ll be fine.” He let his voice soften to try to convey he wanted her to worry about her injuries instead of him. Was this lack of concern for herself what Hood meant when he called her and Tim soldiers? He would have to ponder that later. “Robin, I might need you to be my eyes in the city if Oracle is out of commission. If you learn anything, let me know immediately.”

“Gotcha!”

As Bruce rushed from the building, he hoped Tim would listen and take Spoiler to the Cave. The last thing he needed at the moment would be the two of them getting involved in a situation that could result in Stephanie’s injuries worsening.

Using a grapple to take to the air of Gotham, he tried reaching Oracle again. When she once again didn’t answer, he tried Dick. His son’s answer was brief, but at least it confirmed he was alive, even if he requested assistance at the Clocktower.

As he came closer to the building, he found smoke slowly dissipating both in the air and the streets. As he cleared another building, he nearly missing the timing with his grapple. The Clocktower was gone. The remains of it were blackened and scattered on the streets below. Had it been destroyed by one of the rogues of Gotham? Or had Barbara caused the detonation? There was too much he didn’t know.

Getting closer, he could hear the sounds of a battle. Moving around to the side where the entrance of the Clocktower was, he found Dick, Selena, and Dick’s acquaintance, Tarantula, fighting what they had dubbed ‘Scarebeast’. The Penguin once dosed the Scarecrow with something, they were still trying to determine if it was a variant of Langstrom’s serum or something else, turning him into a hulking monster. They had hoped it had been a one-time thing, but the effects of it apparently still lingered. This was problematic as instead of needing some form of container for his fear toxin, in this form, he was able to secrete it from his body. He was also much stronger than normal and deceptively fast. They had to be extra careful as a result.

Seeing an opening, he threw one of his exploding batarangs at the creature, allowing the others to fall back and regroup. There were already noticeable burn marks on his body suggesting he’d been caught up in the explosion of the Clocktower. Good, that meant he was already injured and possibly weakened. If they kept hitting him from a safe distance, they should be able to wear him out enough for him to collapse.

The problem was Selena was more of a melee fighter and had no desire to stay back. Tarantula also wasn’t interested in fighting from a far. That left Bruce and Dick to monitor for signs of fear toxin release and alert the others.

…

Dick hated how long the battle with Scarebeast was taking. They needed to find Barbara. She had been in the Clocktower before it exploded, and with her line going dead, he wasn’t sure if she had been in the building or not. But due to the criminal’s transformation, his strength and endurance without had exponentially increased without affecting his intelligence making the fight that much harder.

There was also the concern on whether or not the Clocktower would collapse. He could hear the unsettling creaks and groans of the building as the damaged supports reached their limits. Sure, they were currently outside, but they were fighting at its base. Over the years, Dick learned just how dangerous being too close to a collapsing building could be.

At one point, Tarantula got a little too close, giving Scarebeast an opening. However, a black and white blur appeared at her side right before the attack seemed to harmlessly pass through her. Phantom had arrived. Instead of thanking the kid, Tarantula immediately scooted away from him. The woman was a former FBI agent, but Phantom’s presence seemed to deeply unsettle her.

The teen’s presence also seemed to bother Scarebeast as he immediately tried to attack him. When the attack and the next three didn’t connect, Scarebeast seemed to give Phantom a curious look. According to Bruce, Phantom’s first properly documented appearance was during a fight with Scarecrow. While the criminal had heard Phantom speak before, they weren’t sure if he ever laid eyes on him prior to this instance.  

“Phantom, fall back!” Bruce shouted as Scarebeast began releasing toxin. Phantom was an unknown when it came to its effects, and on top of that, he was a meta which automatically made him harder to subdue if he got affected by it.

The warning was too late. As the teen stumbles as the toxin began to take effect, he couldn’t get out of the way of the next attack. But it never hit. A shot rang out, and the Scarebest shrieked in rage as he cradled his arm. A few more shots rang out, hitting near the man’s feet, causing him to back away as Phantom fell backwards and shivered.

Quickly glancing behind him, he noted a glint off a red helmet. The Red Hood was watching.

“Don’t come near me!” Phantom yelled as he scrambled to his feet and backed away. The temperature in the immediate area dropped, causing Dick to involuntarily shiver as his breath misted. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen. Please!” He raised his arms as if he was shielding himself. “Don’t give me to that monster! I don’t… I don’t want to die again!” His voice cracked as spikes of ice began sprouting from the ground around him and quickly spread in an uneven circle around him.

Scarebeast chuckled, a strange and unsettling sound worsened by the rustling of the straw on him, before attempting to strike Phantom again. As another shot rang out, hitting him once again in the arm, ice began in casing his feet. Bruce used the moment to use an exploding batarang. Before the smoke cleared, Dick used the distraction to activate the electricity on his escrima sticks before rushing to Scarebeast’s back and tasing him. It seemed to finally do the trick as he slumped and slowly began shrinking in size.

Dick barely had time to move as the ice around Phantom increased. The one thing he didn’t want to do was risk getting trapped, especially when he was nursing an injury on his leg. Even if it was just a graze, bullet wounds hurt, and after everything that happened in the last couple days, he was exhausted.

“You don’t happen to have the antidote on you?” he asked as he retreated to Bruce’s side while trying to ignore the increasing frequency of the groans from the Clocktower’s supports. “And since when could he manipulate ice?”

“It seems to be a spontaneous evolution of his powers,” Bruce replied as he pulled out a vial from his utility belt.

“Are you crazy?” Tarantula snapped at him. “The building isn’t going to last for much longer.”

“You can leave.” The hint of anger in Bruce’s voice caught her off guard. “Right now, Phantom is a danger to himself and everyone else due to the fear toxin. We don’t know the extent of this new ability.”

Bruce ignored her and gave him a slight not. Most other people wouldn’t understand what that meant, but Dick had been Bruce’s partner for years. He wanted him to distract Phantom so he could sneak up and use the antidote. Thankfully, the teen seemed to have the frozen in fear type and hadn’t move too much from his spot in the middle of the ice. Thankfully, the giant spikes of ice had stopped forming, but frost was still spreading across the ground. If this continued, there was a real possibility he could freeze the entire square and accidentally harm someone in the process.

“I hate to say it, but I think she’s right,” Selena grabbed Bruce’s arm preventing him from running forward. “The boy can pass through objects, right? He should be fine, but we won’t if we don’t get out of the way.”

He was about to retort and explain that he refused to let another young hero die, but his words were cut off as someone ran in between him and Bruce. “Hold that for me,” the person called as he threw a helmet into his hands and swiped the antidote from Bruce. Glancing down, Dick realized that he was holding a familiar red helmet.

“Ah hell,” he muttered to himself as he and Bruce ran after Red Hood. As they followed, Phantom responded to them by causing more ice spikes to shoot out towards them.

Hood surprised Dick by showing off his athletics. He dodged around the ice spikes with little trouble which continue to push forward. The strange thing was Hood’s movements were familiar, and it wasn’t just him who believed that. Tim had rigorously reviewed the footage from his first encounter with Hood when he was impersonating Jason and mentioned he saw similarities. Though Bruce surprisingly brushed it off, Dick couldn’t. He was certain he helped train this man.

When he was just a few yards away, Hood slowed his pace and gently called out to Phantom. The teen recognized him, even through the toxin-induced hallucinations.

“Stay back! They’ll catch you too!” he called out as more ice shot out towards Bruce. The fear in his voice made Dick’s heart break, but what was he seeing? Who was going to catch him? While they needed this to end as quickly as possible, sometimes the hallucinations gave hints about the past. He hated that he wanted to hear more.

“No one’s gonna catch me. We’ll get out of this together.”

“Hood… no, you’re not him! You’re working with them!” Crap. Did Phantom see the antidote? But instead of the spikes, ice started forming on Hood’s jacket.

“You need to pull back!” Dick shouted as he dodged more ice. “You won’t be able to help him if you get frozen solid.”

Ignoring him, Hood closed the gap and knelt in front of Phantom. Ice continued to race across the material of his closes and an unsettling blue tint was starting to become noticeable on his visible skin. “It’s alright, Dove. Listen to my voice and close your eyes. You can feel my presence, right?” What did that mean? Could Phantom sense all of them?

“I… yes.”

Taking the temporary distraction, Hood quickly scooped the teen into a hug. Not liking the movement, Phantom screamed as walls of ice began forming. Hood used the distraction to inject the antidote into his arm and continued to hold onto him while it took effect. As Phantom went limp, the tension from Hood’s shoulders lessened. “I told you to stay away from the criminals.” An unidentifiable emotion filled his voice. It definitely wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t pity either.

“Huh…?” Dick was surprised to hear Phantom’s voice. Even with the antidote, it usually took at least a few minutes before it took full effect. “J…Err… Hood? What happened?” He glanced over the man’s shoulder towards him and Bruce. “You’re covered in ice! Did… did I do that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hood stood and helped Phantom stand.

“But I could have killed you!”

“The cold isn’t a bad way to go. You don’t feel a thing. Much better than explosions or fire.” That statement was too matter of fact for Dick’s liking. “We need to get you out of here. Nightwing, I’d appreciate if you gave me my helmet back.” When Hood glanced back towards him, Dick dropped the thing.

He knew that face. Sure, he was older, but he couldn’t forget him. Especially since his image frequently haunted his dreams, screaming for help. Sure, he’d seen the footage of the battle in the cemetery, but this was different. He wasn’t looking at him through a lens. This was real, but there was no way it was possible. “Jason.”

====

Notes:

It was the War Games arc where Stephanie was shot and "died." As you can see, I've made the executive decision not to do that this time.

Scarebeast is a thing. Apparently the Penguin hired Scarecrow as something of a body guard during As the Crow Flies and injected him with something that turned him into a monstrous creature. Apparently the effects were dormant after that story line until he got caught up in the explosion at the Clocktower during the War Games arc. A weird thing about this transformation is that he can release fear toxin from his body instead of needing a delivery device. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't shown up more.

[bumbleklee]

how genshin characters would react to you have suicidal thoughts or self-harm thoughts

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server

★ request for @ranbalsa <3 sorry this is so delayed, pls forgive me

★ content warning: this could be extremely triggering for some! there will be mentions of suicidal and self-harm thoughts as well as mentions of self-harm scars (national suicide prevention hotline: 800-273-8255)

★ characters included: beidou, fischl, lisa, jean, ningguang, kaeya, venti, albedo, zhongli, childe and diluc - these can be interpreted as platonic or romantic

beidou

if i had to choose one word to describe beidou, it would be caring

between the way people talk so highly about her in their voice lines to the little kids that like to play pirates and are always talking about how she gives them candy, it’s clear beidou is a very kindhearted person

so if you were having bad thoughts about hurting yourself, beidou would stop what she was doing and get you on her ship in no time

she figured that being out in the middle of the sea gave you no chance to actually hurt yourself + the waves and serenity were sure to calm you

she would spend the entire trip by your side, whispering how important you were to her and everyone back home and how foolish it would be if you took your own life

she would also get down to the root of the issue and try to give you as much advice as possible

beidou would finally sail back home once she decided you were stable again

fischl

i think fischl probably deals with some of these issues herself since her whole personality is based off a story book

but speaking of that, if you go to fischl in a state of panic i think she would sit you down on her bedroom floor and read you a book

her calming voice mixed with the distraction of a fairytale would help your breathing even out and you would ultimately forget about those thoughts you were having

if the story didnt help, then she would just talk to you about anything and everything

she might even invite bennett and razor over and four of you could make a little powow in her living room to make you feel better about yourself

lisa

even hearing you mention hurting yourself would send lisa into a “motherly mode” 

she may not seem like it, but she cared deeply for everyone in mondstadt and never wanted anyone to hurt like that - especially you

like fischl, lisa would probably try distracting you with a book

she would take you into the library and pick out some novels or stories that would take your mind off your previous thoughts

she would sit with you and when you were ready, talk to you about why you were feeling the way you were and what she could do to help

she’s a smart women and if there’s one thing she understands more than anything, its you

jean

she panics

not on purpose, of course. but if jean walks in you harming yourself or hears you say something worrying, she would panic

she was never good in situations like this, afraid she would say the wrong thing and upset you more

but at the end of the day, jean was jean and she always smacked some sense into herself to properly help you through this bump in the road

jean would get down to the root of your issue and work her way out from there

to help you feel better, jean would order a pizza and let you indulge in it with her and after that, she would listen to you vent about what was making you upset

jean is also good at passing off tasks she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle which means if jean thought she seriously couldn’t help you, she would get someone who could

your wellbeing is more important than her pride

ningguang

she wouldn’t understand at first

it would be a lie to say ningguang didn’t live in a fantasy bubble sometimes

she cared about you, yes, but never experienced your pain before and had trouble grasping it right away

but once she did, she was very attentive 

if you wanted medical help, ningguang would hire the best doctors in teyvat to help you through this

if you didn’t, then ningguang would do her very best to console you

she would try to distract you with lavish gifts and expensive dinners and while it was nice being spoiled by her, it didn’t make your problems go away

the last thing ningguang wanted was for you to hurt yourself so like jean, if she needed to bring in a professional to help, she would

kaeya

he would find out about your bad habit by walking in on you self harming

he was freaking out on the inside but stayed calm on the outside, coaxing you away from the blade and helping you clean up your wounds

you would be a nervous wreck for a while and kaeya would hold you in his arms

like jean, he would try and get to the root of the issue and find out why you were feelings these things

he loved you more than anything and he wouldn’t know what he would do if you succeeded in taking your own life one day

on that day onwards, kaeya was determined to make you happy again

he puts your needs before his and does everything in his power to make sure you’re always okay

and if you relapse, kaeya never gets mad. he understands this is a hard cycle to break but he’s determined to help you through it

venti

he might be more upset than you

venti treated you like the archon in the relationship and when you revealed to him you were having suicidal thoughts, his world came crashing down

he blamed himself for a while and drank a lot more at diluc’s tavern but after a stern warning from diluc, venti realized this was doing nothing for either of you

he spent his days with you, walking you around mondstadt and showing you beautiful flowers and cool bugs

his goal was to show you the beauty of the world and convince you that taking your own life would prevent you from experiencing more 

if you self harmed, venti would kiss your scars and make you bracelets made out of cecilia flowers to cover the marks

albedo

he would accidentally be insensitive, at least at first. your relationship was new to him and he was still trying to figure out all of his emotions so when you made a comment about suicide, he took it densely

he didn’t understand why someone would want to kill themselves and told you that exactly

it was only after sucrose snapped at him and explained how you were feeling that albedo screwed his head on right

after apologizing, he would try his best to help you

he would create new potions that might help with your depression or other mental disorders and document your moods and feelings to help him understand what you were going through

it was difficult and sucrose added in a lot of support as well

zhongli

he noticed your self harm scars the minute you two got close but being the respectful man he is, he never pointed them out

he let you come to him and explain them yourself

if you pick up self harming later in your relationship, zhongli is quick to notice and take action

as aggravating as it was, zhongli hid all sharp objects in your apartment and took charge if you needed any of them for something

he made you promise to go to him if you were having thoughts of hurting yourself again

zhongli would make you tea infused with herbs to help worries and bring you relaxation and (in small amounts) happiness

he would take walks with you around liyue if you were having urges and let you cry into his chest in frustration 

this was childe’s idea but if you needed to do something badly, zhongli would take you into an abandoned part of liyue and create fragile, thin rocks for you to smash onto the ground and satisfy that need

childe

having five siblings, he knew how to handle suicidal thoughts

his older sister went through a similar phase like you were now and childe would help you based on how he helped her

childe liked to wrap you in blankets so tightly you couldn’t move, the pressure calming you down and usually causing you to fall asleep

he gives you so, so, so many compliments during this time. he’s so proud of you and so in love with your strength

he wants you to stay with him forever so he’s determined to get these thoughts out of your head 

if you attempt, childe will not leave your side

he’ll stay with you throughout your infirmary visit and even when you’re discharged back home

he’s scared of loosing you

like ningguang, he’ll shower you in gifts to make you feel special 

diluc

like jean, he panics

he thinks it’s his fault somehow and you have to heartbreakingly explain that its not, that your brain is just wired differently 

diluc tries to keep you by his side at all times for a while

he takes you to work with him so you can sit at the bar or he’ll have you walk around with him through the grape vines in the evening

you wake up more often than not to his strong arms around you and as annoying at it is, it’s comforting to know someone loves you this much

he’s afraid of loosing you like he lost his father

diluc was good at shutting down rumors as well. if you had scars, people would talk and diluc would give them one nasty glare and they would shut up

at the end of the day, he just wanted you to be okay

[egcdeath]

ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it. 

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down. 

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by. 

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you��re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin. 

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home. 

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out. 

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself. 

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry. 

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss. 

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends. 

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve. 

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on. 

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine. 

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument. 

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face. 

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in. 

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand. 

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer. 

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone. 

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him. 

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment. 

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room. 

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you. 

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you. 

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you. 

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace. 

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material. 

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry. 

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth. 

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle. 

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose. 

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony. 

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise. 

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say. 

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change. 

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love. 

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt. 

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious. 

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him. 

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether. 

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back. 

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly. 

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly. 

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested. 

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same? 

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far. 

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so. 

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick. 

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it. 

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note. 

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. 

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning. 

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment. 

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness. 

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face. 

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom. 

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep. 

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard. 

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work. 

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier. 

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break. 

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen. 

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window. 

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt. 

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks. 

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you. 

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool. 

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.” 

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket. 

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[redhoodieone]

You’re so Lucky!

A/N: Hey y’all! Here’s another sexy story that was a request from the amazing @jasontoddslut! Enjoy my peeps!

Warnings: Language, Bad Relationship with Ex-Boyfriend, Smut, Voyeurism, and Jason’s Goddamn Dirty Mouth!!!!!

It was bound to happen. She couldn’t deny this was going to happen sooner rather than later. If she believed they that they could get through their issues and be happy like they once were, then she’s a real fucking idiot.

Gabi still couldn’t believe it though. One minute she was trying to calm Bobby down and the next, he’s screaming at her and telling her to get the fuck out of his apartment. He was in a bad mood to begin with. He’s a mechanic and he’s always tired when he gets home. He was expecting dinner to be ready and maybe have his loving girlfriend of three years rub his back since his shoulder pain is getting worse.

But no. Gabi made the mistake of asking Bobby where he was tonight as soon as he got home.

What set him off was her telling him to calm down. She should have known though.

You should NEVER. EVER. Tell an easily angry guy to calm down.

Because that’s like telling fire to not burn people. Or telling a baby to not cry.

She should have known better though. It’s no surprise Bobby’s into some serious shady shit that the low life Gothamites meet up sometimes at night in casinos or nightclubs. She knows they do illegal shit like selling drugs, ordering weapons from other countries, and maybe even kidnapping young women and children.

And Bobby had participated in the ordering weapons category.

How Gabi found out is another story: she knows for damn sure that Bobby once brought home fifteen state of the art total militia AK-47 guns. Bobby had foolishly asked Gabi to go get some important documents from his huge safe; totally forgetting the weapons were in there about five months prior.

Why would a normal mechanic need such weapons?

Gabi had decided to never bring it up. Bobby would either deny or lie about it. His temper had been getting worse right about then and she knew better.

But he wasn’t always like this. Oh, no. Bobby was a funny, laid back, and loving type who worshipped the ground Gabi walked on before they even started dating. But after two years of living with each other, things changed.

Simple as that. Things changed.

Gabi always wondered how things could just...change. So easily. The fact that it could happen in the blink of an eye frightens her sometimes.

Just like Bobby’s hidden anger. She never knew a hilarious and sweet guy could have the rage of a bull.

Bobby never hit her though. He always made sure to slam his fist against the wall beside her head, though. He was the type to yell and belittle Gabi as if she was a little girl.

But she wasn’t a little girl. She was a 23-year-old woman who moved in with her boyfriend so fast that she began to understand why her parents and friends disapproved of her choices and relationship.

I just had to learn the hard way, Gabi thought to herself.

She doesn’t know why she’s trying to think of sayings that relate to this experience. The point is, Gabi knows she seriously fucked. With Bobby only giving her ten minutes to pack whatever truly mattered to her, she had to hurry the fuck up.

The moment she made it outside the apartment building, all Gabi could do is replay her questions that she asked Bobby.

Where were you tonight?

Were you with someone?

What did you do?

Why can’t you tell me what you did?

Are you hiding something from me?

Are you getting into dangerous things?

No wonder Bobby kicked her out. Gabi should have never put her nose in his business. And now, she’s practically homeless. She knows it would be embarrassing as hell to go back to her parents’ house because of what they told her before getting involved with Bobby. She also knows her friends would treat her horribly, with the “I told you so” stares and lectures. Gabi was certainly running out of options just as the rain began to fall.

There was one person she could go to, who would never turn her away.

However, Gabi hasn’t spoken to this person in about a year because of her relationship with Bobby as well as this person’s own relationship with their significant other.

But Gabi knew Y/N was a good person, a good friend. She was a sweet person, with a big warm heart and she would never turn her away.

With nowhere else to go, Gabi walked alone in the rain all the way down to high class side of Gotham.

By the time Gabi gets to the high-class penthouses, she has to call Y/N to let her inside. Of course, Y/N excitedly tells her to come up, and Gabi immediately starts to feel somehow relieved that Y/N hasn’t changed at all.

As Gabi finally makes it to the correct floor, she sees Y/N waiting by the door, where Gabi assumes is where Y/N lives. Y/N is wearing a red and black flannel pajama pants and a thin black tank top. Gabi also notices Y/N’s barefoot, and her hair’s in a messy bun.

She must have just woken up. I’m so sorry, Y/N, Gabi thinks to herself.

But none of that matters when Y/N meets Gabi halfway in the hall where they collide in a tight, warm-hearted embrace.  Y/N smells like a woodsy, musky cologne, most likely from whoever she’s seeing with now. Maybe they were snuggling up against with each other until Gabi had called and asked if she could come over.

“Come inside. You must be freezing!” Y/N says, releasing Gabi from her hug and pulling her arm towards the front door.

Gabi follows on shaky legs, completely overwhelmed by seeing her longtime best friend. Y/N giggles and leads Gabi inside the penthouse. Gabi instantly is hit by the aroma of vanilla and musk, the smell of intimacy and seduction.  Her eyes take in the red and black walls and décor, some exquisite art pieces, and the big space that is more comfortable and warmer than most homes she’s ever seen.

“Welcome, mi casa es tu casa! Seriously Gabi, babe, make yourself at home. There’s absolutely no rush to leave. You leave when you’re ready, okay?” Y/N says seriously.

“Are you absolutely sure? I really don’t want to impose or put you and your boyfriend out,” Gabi confesses.

Y/N leads Gabi to the long, cherry red couch that is facing a huge flat screen TV. Gabi sets down her duffle bag and takes a seat next to Y/N on the couch.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Jay and I insist you stay here until you figure out what you want to do, okay?” Y/N says, before she turns around to get comfortable to face Gabi.

A vanilla candle is lit on the coffee table. Gabi’s cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I didn’t...interrupt something, did I?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t! I was just setting the mood in the living room to be more...comfy,” Y/N admits, with a chuckle. “Jason just got home a few minutes ago and is taking a shower. He should be done by now.”

As if on cue, they hear someone walking down the hall and towards the living room. He stops near the couch. There in all his glory, well half-naked glory, stands Jason Todd, God’s greatest creation of man...at least that’s what both girls were thinking.

“Gabi, this is Jason, my boyfriend,” Y/N proudly introduces Jason to Gabi. “Jay, this is Gabi, my best friend in the whole wide world.”

Still dripping wet and fresh out of the shower, Jason at least has a white towel wrapped around his waist; hiding his goods that Gabi wanted to see so desperately. He’s really tall, must be 6’2 or something close to that. She takes note that Jason is all man: there’s absolutely nothing that screams “boy”. Gabi inhales hard when she watches his large hand run through his soaked dark hair. The other hand holds the towel tightly around his hips.

“Hi,” Jason smirks at Gabi. She notices his eyes are green, almost like emeralds. He smiles at her, even his white teeth are perfect. “So, you’re Gabi. Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

“She-she has?” Gabi chokes out. Why is it so hot in here? Why can’t she speak?

Her eyes zero in on the droplets of water running down his strong as fuck built chiseled chest and perfectly sculpted abs that she really wants to lick and bite his skin.

Holy fuck...

Gabi scolds herself for thinking such inappropriate thoughts about her best friend’s boyfriend. Even though Gabi’s never fantasized Bobby this kind of way, she realizes Y/N’s lucked out. Bobby wasn’t in shape or even remotely attractive like Jason.

“Of course, she has. You’re one of her best friends, and I’m happy to finally meet you. I would go over there to shake your hand and properly greet you, but I’m uh...not exactly dressed yet,” Jason chuckles, and almost seems shy now. “I’m gonna go get dressed real quick so we can talk.”

You don’t have to. You can stay the way you are. You can even drop the towel, Gabi thinks improperly.

Y/N smiles softly at Jason as they watch him leave. True to his word, Jason returned in a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt and took a seat next to Y/N. Throughout their comfortable and pleasant conversation, Gabi truly sees the way Jason cares about her best friend. Midway through their talk about what happened to Bobby, Jason clearly was paying attention and rubbed caressed Y/N’s thigh when Gabi recounted the latest scary fight with Bobby. Whenever Y/N looked shocked or worried, Jason made sure to calm her down through touches, forehead kisses, and whispers words along the lines of love, probably.

It almost makes Gabi jealous. Y/N’s life is clearly so much better than what Gabi had going on for herself. Jason seems like the perfect gentleman; always does and says the right thing. Gabi’s never seen a man pay so much attention to a woman before. Not only did he offer Gabi his advice and opinions on getting a better and more affordable apartment on their street, but Jason even voiced his hatred for Bobby, and even went on to criticize the man for treating women so poorly. He even made a joke about finding the man and breaking his legs; making Gabi and Y/N laugh their asses off and making the energy around them fun again.

But for some reason, Gabi couldn’t help but notice that Jason wasn’t laughing as hard as she and Y/N were. It almost seemed like Jason was serious about breaking Bobby’s legs, but Jason wouldn’t do that. She was sure of it.

He wouldn’t, would he?

By the time midnight came, the three of them stood up and decided to go to bed. Jason even surprised Gabi by giving her a hug and telling her that she can stay in their guest bedroom for however long as she wants and needs.

“I’m serious, kid. Don’t even worry about it. You mean so much to Y/N, and so therefore, you mean a lot to me, too,” Jason had said as he pulled back from their hug.

Gabi was speechless to say the least. She didn’t want the hug to end. He felt so good in her arms and he smelled so fucking good.

But it was bedtime now, and once Y/N and Jason had shown Gabi the guest bedroom, they went off to bed to let Gabi get comfortable. It wasn’t long for Gabi to quickly clean herself up and put on some plain pajama shorts with a tank top. As soon as she turned off the light, she was amazed by how big and comfortable the bed was. She figured it must be new and is probably the first person to sleep in here. In just a few minutes, exhaustion took over and Gabi fell into a deep sleep.

Her throat was dry. That’s what awoke Gabi at two in the morning and made her climb out of bed and go search for a bottle of water. She made sure to tiptoe out of the room and walk slowly and quietly to the kitchen.

As soon as Gabi made it to the end of the hallway, she stops dead in her tracks when she hears moaning. A woman moaning.

Her mind registers that it’s Y/N moaning. But why is she moaning in the living room?

Curiosity forces Gabi to peek out into the living room and see what’s going on, despite the logical part in her mind is screaming at her to have some respect for her best friend and her boyfriend.

But being a pervert outweighs being a prude.

Gabi is utterly shocked to her core when she sees her best friend straddling Jason’s lap. On the red couch where they sat a couple of hours ago, Gabi sees Y/N and Jason making out heavily. She couldn’t unsee it; she wants to keep watching them.

Gabi even sees the vanilla candle is lit again, after Jason had blown it out before they all went to bed.

But all Gabi could see is Jason’s fingertips digging hard into Y/N’s exposed flesh from where her tank top is pushed up above her bare tits. Y/N shamelessly moans in between the evident delicious kisses, and grinds against Jason’s apparent bulge.

Gabi quickly notices an isolated leather recliner that’s against the wall near the hallway. She throws herself down, sinks into the chair and watches the practically live porno show in front of her.

Jason pulls back from the deep kiss, revealing his red, swollen lips from where Y/N’s been biting and sucking since the beginning. He rests his head back against the couch and looks up with hazy, lustful eyes as Y/N grins down at him. She bites her bottom lip and pulls up her tank top, removing her top completely from her body.  

“Fuck...what the hell are you doing to me, sweetheart?” Jason asks breathlessly. He runs his hands up Y/N’s back and moves them to her front where he reaches for both her tits.

“I’m slowly...and softly killing you,” Y/N says, closing her eyes and moans when Jason gently grabs both her tits in his hands; her breasts fill his hands perfectly.

“I’d say...” he says, before sighing contently when switches from pinching her nipples to squeezing her tits before he sits up straighter and pulls Y/N’s body closer to lick and suck her sensitive nipples.

“Oh, fuck...oh Jay...feels so good,” Y/N moans louder than before. She whimpers and continues to rub herself against him. “I need to cum...please make me cum, Jay...”

Jason pulls back from her chest and gazes into Y/N’s eyes. “You wanna cum, doll? Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, please...I need you so bad!”

“No, I don’t think you need to cum,” Jason teases, before he pulls off his own t-shirt. “Now, I’m going to take off the rest of your clothes, but if you touch your pussy, I ain’t going to fuck you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Y/N snaps. Her cheeks are flushed from being aroused.

Jason smirks at Y/N’s frustration.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart. I’m going to check how wet you are,” Jason explains, as he raises Y/N off his lap to pull down her pajama pants and panties; leaving her completely bare on his lap. “If you’re soaking wet, then I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be feeling me for days. But if I have to make you wet, then that means I get to do whatever I want to this pussy.”

“But-”

Jason runs his hand up Y/N’s thigh until his fingers glide over her bare pussy. His fingers gently push inside her, he can feel the wetness, but wants to see it for himself.

“Stand up and put your pussy in my face,” he demands.

“What?”

“I want to taste your delicious pussy right now. Don’t make me get up and literally put you on my shoulders to eat you out,” Jason threatens.

Y/N slowly moves to stand up carefully on the couch. Her legs are shaking, but Jason quickly grabs her to hold her steady. He doesn’t waste any time, and he dives into her pussy as if he’s a starving man.

“Oh fuck!” Y/N cries out.

Jason’s tongue on her clit is what she wants the most right now. He squeezes her thigh and flicks his tongue side to side until Y/N fears she’s either going to fall back or fall over him.

Y/N notices one of Jason’s pull up bars is above her. How convenient.

She grabs a hold of the bar to hold herself up just as he decides to slip a finger inside her. Holding herself up allows him to remove a hand from her thigh. He takes the opportunity to slip another finger inside and pumps them in and out fast.

Y/N’s body trembles when Jason curls his fingers and strokes the sensitive wall that he’s mastered so well. He can tell she’s close. She must have been excited earlier when they planned to stay in last minute. He manages to look up at her and he can see she’s barely holding on.

“You’re so close aren’t you, babe? You taste so fucking good that I want you to cum on my face. I want you to be my dirty girl tonight,” Jason says as he finger-fucks her harder and faster than before. “Are you going to be my dirty girl tonight?

“Yes! Fuck yes! Just-just make me cum, please!” Y/N cries out desperately, needing the push that Jason could only give her.

“You are my dirty girl. You love it when I make you cum with just my fingers and mouth. But I bet you want my cock right after, huh?” Jason asks, chuckling darkly when Y/N’s eyes roll back when he speeds up his fingers inside her. “You wanna ride me, don’t you?”

“Yes-yes I do...” she’s panting now.

“Okay, I want you to cum in my face and then quickly get on my lap and ride me. Fast, slow, hard, whatever, you pick. I just want to feel your warm, tight pussy around my dick, okay?” Jason says, quickly shoving his sweatpants and boxers down to his feet. “Fuck...give me your pretty, tasty pussy, sweetheart!”

And then Jason finally gives in. He pulls both her thighs to bring her pussy to his face. Y/N whimpers when he licks all around her wetness, and he hums in approval when he feels her hand stroking his scalp and pulling his hair, while she continues holding herself up with only one hand now.

The vibration from his humming helps her reach her release. He continues to thrust his fingers inside her and sucks her clit until she gushes in his face.

Y/N manages to silent most of her orgasm, but it didn’t help when Jason continued to lick and suck at her clit to swallow most of her juices. Once her body relaxes, she lets go of the pull up bar and drops down to the couch. Y/N quickly straddles Jason’s lap until her pussy is hovering above his hard cock.

“Spit on my cock, doll. Get it nice and wet,” Jason says, as he watches Y/N spit in her hand and stroke his thick cock until he’s nice and ready for her. “How are you going to ride me, sweetheart?”

Y/N slowly looks up into Jason’s dilated, misty eyes. “Deep. Hard. And fast,” she says.

Jason swallows hard but is able to quickly smirk up at Y/N before she takes full control. “Then ride me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my cock like the dirty girl you really are.”

Y/N finally lowers herself onto Jason’s cock, all logic and common sense flies out the window. Whenever his cock was deep inside her, they both tend to lose themselves and the world around them. Because whenever they were connected emotionally and physically in their bubble, nothing else fucking matters in the world.

When Jason fills her up completely, they both release a content sigh. They usually take their time in the beginning, mostly because of their fears whenever Jason leaves to work as Red Hood. But since they’re both so horny and want to cum sooner, they’ll have to just take their time during round two.

“Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself silly on my dick,” Jason moans, but he and Y/N laugh at the “silly” part, when he realizes that’s not very sexy.

But Y/N understands and slowly lifts herself up his lap until just the tip of Jason’s cock is inside her. She keeps a steady pace, lifting herself and lowering herself, until their rhythm flows. Within seconds, Jason helps her by holding her hips tightly and thrusting his hips in time with hers.

“Your cock is so big inside me, Jay. You fill me up so good,” Y/N moans and rides him a little faster; wanting the head of his cock to rub hard and relentlessly against her g-spot. She guides one of his hands off her waist to move towards her pussy, encouraging him to rub her clit. “I wanna cum again, Jay.”

“Yeah? You like ridin’ my big cock, you dirty girl? You want me to fill your pussy with my cum?” Jason asks, watching Y/N’s tits bounce while she rides his cock faster than before. He can’t help himself, he uses a free hand to pinch her nipple and leans in to bite and suck her breasts, until he puts his hand back to her hip to guide her thrusts. “You want me to fill you up with my cum?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” Y/N begs.

“Okay, my dirty girl. I’ll give you what you want.”

Well, Jason knows now that this is going to end fast, but he refuses to let it end without Y/N cumming hard again. He squeezes her hip with one hand and the other hand rubs her clit fast in messy circles. He begins to pull her down to meet his thrusts, fucking her harder and faster with everything he’s got. The squelching sound from his cock fucking up into her wet pussy becomes more noticeable, especially when their skin-on-skin slapping gets louder and harsher that echoes in the living room.

“Fuck...Y/N, you’re getting so tight. You feel so fucking good baby,” Jason pants hard, completely sweating and keeping his fast and erratic pace to get them to their releases. “Fuckin’ cum on my big cock, sweetheart. I wanna feel you cum so bad. Please cum for me, again.”

Y/N keeps her eyes on Jason just as her orgasm hits her hard; she squeezes and gushes around his cock, she calls out his name. Jason thrusts harder in her three more times, as he finally cums hard inside Y/N, calls out her name as quietly as he could. Y/N collapses against Jason’s chest, despite being hot and sweaty, but he doesn’t mind. He wraps both arms around her and holds her while they regain their breaths and can function normal again.

Y/N doesn’t see the loving smile Jason gives her as he kisses her forehead. “I love you,” he whispers, and hugs her tighter.

She looks up at him and smiles. “I love you, too.”

Before Y/N can lie her head against Jason’s chest again, she notices Gabi sitting and watching them. Y/N jumps up and covers her breasts with her arms, causing Jason to jump in panic and turn around to see what’s going on.

“Gabi! What-what the hell are you doing there?!” Y/N cries out in embarrassment. She can feel her cheeks are getting red again.

Gabi slowly gets up from the chair and makes her wave into the kitchen. She finds bottled water in the refrigerator, takes one, and goes back into the living room where Jason and Y/N are still frozen in fear.

“I-I was thirsty,” Gabi answers, even though she knows it sounds like a lame answer. She walks backwards until she reaches the hall. “And-and then I saw you guys, and then I couldn’t stop watching. I’m sorry, Y/N...Jason...”

But before Gabi leaves, she points a finger at Jason and smiles. She even chuckles. “But-but in my defense...he’s really sexy! He’s fucking gorgeous, Y/N, and you’re one lucky bitch! You’re so lucky!”

But Gabi is right about that.

Y/N is lucky...because she has Jason.

[greenlivvie]

grubstreet as an employer in bad art friend

link to main page about bad art friend

This won’t be long. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to people who have gone through the group threads I mentioned in the main page, but GrubStreet is not a good employer. To explain why, it is important to understand that everyone involved in shit-talking Dorland in groupchats was in a more senior position than her in GrubStreet.

the complaint

My opinion is based on @/kidneygate’s thread on Dorland’s HR complaint against Sonya Larson that she launched on July 2, 2018. Apart from everything we know, Larson also physically ignored Dorland at a conference that she had traveled from a different city to attend. Dorland also claims to have a witness to Larson ignoring her. I can see why people might want to scoff at this particular detail - why is Dorland so offended at Larson ignoring her? Well, for one - Larson literally hired Dorland, and she ignored a presenter while acting as assistant director of the conference. When you’re assistant director of a conference, you don’t get to ignore one of the presenters of the conference; that is deeply unprofessional and bordering on harassment. The assistant director has some responsibility towards the people employed, she can’t just ignore them when she wants.

Another point mentioned in Dorland’s complaint is how Larson asked her not to write about race. This is ofcourse not professional at all, especially at a writer’s workshop, but it does give you some idea of how Larson seemed obsessed with Dorland’s views on race.

the people

Two people who were berating Dorland privately were, in some way, involved in the handling of her HR complaint (if the cc list of the email dismissing Dorland’s complain is anything to go by).

This is one of the many chat logs we have of Alison insulting Dorland to Larson, but I think one is sufficient to prove that she should definitely not be handling a complaint launched by Dorland against the person Alison was berating her to. Crucially, in August 2016, she stated “we will all ice her out” if Dorland “messes with” Larson.

Chris Castellani is an asshole. I don’t know him, I don’t ever want to - but that email can only be written by an asshole. Now there is nothing wrong in assholes handling HR complaints, but he clearly despises Dorland, and also postal workers (making him even worse). EDIT: Apparently he also promised to “exact revenge” on Dorland in an email to Larson on July 23, 2018. Clearly, he should not be handling Dorland’s HR complaint.

the handling

Dorland received a “thank you for letting us know” response on July 3, 2018. After almost two months of ineffective responses to the complaint, Dorland resigned on August 31, 2018. In response to her resignation email, the founder of GrubStreet writes “we did all of this in good faith”, while cc’ing the people I’ve mentioned above. Interestingly, Larson helped grow GrubStreet’s program from 80 classes a year to 600 classes a year. Clearly, her contribution to GrubStreet was huge and brought in a lot of revenue - one can only guess how that affected the seriousness with which GrubStreet handled the complaint against her.

We don’t know what’s in the internal documents of GrubStreet, and if they ever properly investigated Dorland’s claims. What we do know is that two people involved in the investigation despised Dorland. We also know that Dorland’s claims are serious and that she claims to have proof of them.

Since we have not yet seen any evidence that shows Dorland lying, and we have seen multiple instances of Larson and her friends lying (and Larson convincing her friends to interfere on her behalf when she has done something wrong professionally), I conclude that Dorland did have evidence to support her claims, and that Larson’s friends interfered to benefit their friend who acted unprofessionally and deserved reprimanding.

Because of their clear mishandling of a legitimate HR complaint, GrubStreet is a bad employer. I don’t know if a lawsuit can be brought against them for this, but I sincerely hope Dorland sues them.