#sorry this took so long i had stuff to say
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broke-on-books · 3 days ago
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*sigh.* okay I know this post has a lot of notes so this has likely been said many times before (so sorry) but from what I can see from the picture, this is actually NOT a Spanish (Christian kingdoms of Spain) fortress! Kind of. At least not in the way described in the post. Let me explain.
Now I'm not Spanish myself, I just study this stuff, but I've spent a decent amount of time visiting places like the one in this photo (twice. I've been there.) and studying history and architecture from this period so this claim immediately threw up a bunch of red flags for me. Because uhhhh. Muslims clearly built this fortress.
And when I say "this fortress" I'm referring to the Alhambra. Yeah, this Alhambra.
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Ok so basically while I can't confirm 100% this is the Alhambra because none of the angles on the digital tour or in my own photos show that specific angle (notably, the broken wall) I can say with near certainty that he's at the Alhambra. Look at the photo again:
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You can see similar features in the 2nd photo (an image I captured of the Alhambra this summer!) The strange point [location 1] in the background of our picture (NOT typical of Moorish architecture) would then be part of the Palace of Carlos V (King of Spain), where we can see the architecture style is markedly different.
& don't play the fortress vs. palace game with me! While our guy above is clearly standing somewhere in the Alcazaba (fortress portion, on the right), the oldest portion of the site, we can see similar buildings below Carlos V's palace, those being the palaces of the Nasrid dynasty, the series of Muslim rulers who were defeated when Ferdinand and Isabel took Grenada in 1492, ending the reconquista and taking the Alhambra as their own seat of power.
Basically the joke here (while funny!!) Isn't accurate because his claim that the Spanish built this fortress is incorrect bc even if it wasn't the Alhambra (which it totally is) it means that the Spanish would had to have built a fortress specifically following the styles and architecture of their enemy sometime during the centuries of reconquista instead of just. taking over a muslim-built fortress and adding a few of their own bits and pieces (maybe). Which like they're known for doing.
Like there are some historically Christian-built buildings that exist in imitation of Muslim architectural styles that do exist in Spain - aka the Mudéjar art style (ex: Pedro I's Palace in the Alcåzar of Sevilla for one) but you wouldn't see that with a fortress??? Idk this got long but it's a strange claim that any Christian king would have built this, especially if it is (it is) the Alhambra which is like very famously and very clearly Islamic site. Like in the palaces they have Quran verses engraved into the walls and everything. Like that's literally what it's known for?? Also the founding purpose wouldnt be to "keep the Muslims out" it would just be to keep other ppl out. Bc thats what a fortress is for. Also Muslims built it.
TLDR; the joke is funny but does not work historically with the location pictured (where it makes no sense), which was used for essentially the exact opposite purpose described in the post. So anyways love the spirit but he would have made more sense going for a "reverse reconquista" joke instead
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cursingtoji · 20 hours ago
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the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine
cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.
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loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.
gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.
of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.
it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.
at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.
sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.
“can you
 give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.
by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.
“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.
before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.
“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”
“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.
toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”
“well, it’s hard
” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.
though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.
soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.
“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.
“let me alone, just today” you whined.
“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.
to correct your form. obviously.
"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.
"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.
"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.
"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.
it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.
"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.
how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...
"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.
and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.
"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.
"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.
"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.
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entitled-fangirl · 1 day ago
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Dead batteries.
Jason Todd x deaf!reader
Summary: The reader's batteries to her hearing aids die. Dinner at the Wayne Manor was supposed to go smoothly.
Summary: anything that they sign is going to be in bold italics
Warnings: cursing, insensitivity to being deaf, the whole story not being proofread, Jason being Jason
Masterlist
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"Baby," Jason's voice called through the apartment. He shrugged off his coat, small concern running through him when there was no answer. He knew she was home. 
He began to walk through the apartment on edge. His gun was tucked against his back in his waistband. Just in case. Just in case. 
He threw the bedroom door open, startling both of them. "Fuck. Sorry," he apologizes with a hand up in surrender. As he took her in, he frowned. "Where are your hearing aids?" He signed.
"Dead," she signed back. "Ordering more." She gestured to the computer next to her. 
He nodded, taking out each weapon from his jeans (which was a lot), placing them on the nightstand, and joining her on the bed. He pulled her into his side, looking over her shoulder. "Until Thursday?" He whispered to himself. "That's a lifetime."
She felt his breath and craned her neck to look at him questioningly. He shook his head. When she didn't let up, he messily signed, "Long time to be without batteries."
She nodded.
"What about your backups?"
She set her computer down, sitting up to properly sign. "Haven't used in years. Better to go without."
"Some backups," he grumbled.
"Will your family be mad?"
"What?"
She sighed. "Dinner tonight."
He mouthed an 'oh.' "No. And if so, I would-"
She placed her hands over his, interrupting his threat.


Y/n!" Damien greeted, practically shoving Jason to the side. "I have to tell you about the guy I caught last night. It was so cool! Listen, so I jumped out of the Batmobile-"
"-Damien," Jason sighs. 
"-And it was like 'whoosh,' and I was like all cool and stuff-"
"Damien, she c-"
"And I chased him down this alley-"
Jason watched Y/n's eyes hold the panic inside her as she tried to follow what the kid was saying, but with his energetic motions, she was catching minimal words out of the jumble. Jason pushed Damien's head to the side. "Listen to me when I talk. Damn."
"I'm not even talking to you," Damien argued, going right back to his story.
"She can't hear anything. Her aids are out."
Damien froze. "Oh." 
Damien was the only one in the Batfamily that had yet to pick up sign language. With Cass, they had all begun to learn. And with the addition of Y/n, it quickly became intermixed with their everyday speech. Being a later addition to the family, Damien was slowly picking it up. Very slowly.
Y/n gave him a sorry expression. "Sorry. The batteries are coming Thursday."
He held a hand up. "Woah, woah, woah. I can't hear you when you do that."
Jason huffed. "Go away, demon brat." 
"I'll go when I'm ready," he sassed. "So I'll go now because I have nothing else to say. Not cause you told me to."


Dinner was a mix of speech and sign language, the family (for once) having a nice dinner.
Jason and Dick had found amusement in signing across Damien, acting like they were saying something top secret that he couldn't know. In reality, it was just random words like, "time, death,, cookie, day." To which Jason responded with, "leave doctor, dad." And then the two would bust up into hearty laughs, watching Damien turn red.
But the rest of the table ignored it.
"There's a new thing we're working on down in the cave. Wanna see after dinner?" Tim asked with his head down.
Steph heaved a heavy sigh, physically pushing his head up so Y/n could see his face. "Now actually ask."
"Sorry," he smiled with his cheeks full.
Alfred tapped on Y/n's shoulder, waiting until she turned around to speak.
Jason watched her face morph to complete confusion. She had always had problems understanding Alfred's accent. "Deaf," he muttered at Alfred.
"Oh," Alfred flushed. "Forgive me." He began to sign his question.
"She didn't even answer my question," Tim complained.
"She turned away before you finished," Steph reprimanded him.
"I got this," Damien gloated. He hit his fist on the table until he caught Y/n's attention. He spoke in a loud tone. "TIM ASKED IF-"
Jason's hand appeared out of nowhere, swallowing the kid's entire face and muffling him. He began shoving down until Damien had no choice but to go under the table. "I'll fucking kill you if you scream at her again."
"Jason," Bruce reprimanded.
"No, you favor the little shit." He ran a hand over his face. "Do I have to write it across her forehead for you guys to remember? Can't fucking do this-"


Dinner went smoothly after a 'Hello, I am' name tag was stuck to her shirt, the blank line reading "deaf" in Jason's messy handwriting. Bruce always had those for galas. 
But the car ride back home was rather silent. Hard to sign in the dark.
Once back inside their apartment, Jason had practically ripped the tag off her shirt. Just the sight of it annoyed him.
"Sorry we left early," she signed with a guilty expression.
He shrugged, pulling her jacket off and hanging it up. There wasn't much to say. They both knew that it had nothing to do with her. 'Love you,' he mouthed as an answer. He pointed at the book she'd left on the counter. "Leaving for patrol soon. Read while I'm gone?"
She nodded. "Almost done with it."
He nodded back. 
The two stood in the living room, just admiring one another. His arms opened and she all but melted into them.
He forced her head up so he could talk. 'Be good for me while I'm gone?' He mouthed.
She gave him a grin, mouthing back 'yeah.'
'Good.' He pulled her chin forward, connecting their lips with a softness that Jason was never thought to have.
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thechaoticcherub · 2 days ago
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Sheep Keeping Age
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Pairing: Jackson!Friends Dad!Joel Miller x innocent reader
Summary: Joel keeps the flock of sheep in Jackson, you and Ellie become friends, partially because you think it's cute that he keeps sheep.
Warnings: 18+, explicit content, innocence kink, virgin!reader, big age gap(around 40 years), old!joel miller, frustrated!joel miller, some (very) light manhandling, edging, fingering, dirty talk, no use of y/n, pet names, farming, ellie briefly, pussy pronouns
Notes: My first Joel fic! I hope you like it! this isn't really proofread and def not beta read so sorry but that's just how i roll. Ten thousand cherub points to anyone who knows what the title references.
Word count: 4.4 K
đŸŽ€đŸ‘ŒđŸ»Home | Ask | MasterlistđŸ‘ŒđŸ»đŸŽ€
The first week after you became friends with Ellie, you hung out with her in the garage of her dad, well, her Joel’s house. She was in the process of fixing it up to be her apartment and you had agreed to help her move some stuff around. You had caught sight of Joel through the window of the garage, he was in the paddock just past his house where Jackson’s sheep were kept. He was carrying a bucket of water to fill their trough and stopping to rub one of the sheep that followed after him behind the ears while they all brayed at him. Joel was really good looking for an older guy, broad through his shoulders and chest with a lined and deeply etched but handsome face. His hair was peppered with grey and there was something about his prominent nose and jaw that made you want to stare. You had seen him at other times in Jackson, from across the mess hall when he came in looking for his brother while a movie played in the evening. You had watched him then, your eyes tracking his movements across the building instead of paying attention to the projector screen. You had seen him at the pub, late in the evening when you’d go in to play cards with friends, he would be sitting at the bar with Tommy, drinking and talking in low voices. You had always been friendly, saying “hi Mr. Miller!” all brightly, smiling and sweet. Every time he would give you an awkward ‘’llo’” and then look away as if you were dangerous to look at for too long. You had always found him attractive, but he continuously hurt your feelings. 
“Why are you staring at Joel?” Elli asked, knocking you from your thoughts as you stared out the window. 
“Oh I just didn’t realize he took care of the sheep,” You said, making up an excuse. Ellie snorted with brief laughter, 
“Honestly, I think the sheep are the old fucker’s best friends. He definitely likes them more than probably anyone else.” She said, glancing out the window. 
“It’s kinda sweet,” You said, “Shows he isn’t just a closed off asshole,” You finished. Ellie shrugged, “Orrr it means he’s really closed off. Come help me move this desk,” She said.  
The second week after you became friends with Ellie, it had really started to feel like springtime around Jackson and you had walked over to see if Ellie was home. When she hadn’t answered your knocks on the door into the garage, you had wandered around the back of the building towards the paddock. You spotted Joel by the barn, so you put your foot up on the wooden fence and swung your leg over before hopping down and walking over. 
“Hey Mr. Miller!” You called as you approached him, he glanced over and then quickly looked away, as if the sight of you had burned him or something. 
“Hey,” His voice was gruff and short, “You lookin’ for Ellie?” He asked. You walked up to him and shrugged, “I was, she’s not here though, is she?” You asked. 
“Nope. On Patrol with Tommy,” He told you. It sounded like a dismissal, like you should leave. There was a sheep laying against the side of the barn, her breathing was a little heavy and Joel crouched down next to her, feeding her out of the palm of his hand. His forehead was pinched in worry. You didn’t want to be dismissed. You had come all the way to the house and you liked animals. Maybe you could learn how to help with the sheep and if that meant getting to spend a little more time around Joel then so be it. 
“Is something wrong with her?” You asked, crouching down next to Joel and reaching out to touch the sheep’s back, giving her a pat. Joel shifted so he wasn’t close to touching you, and glanced over at you, 
“Nothin’ wrong, jus’ pregnant and ready to be done I ‘spose,” Joel said. You immediately cooed, 
“Aww there’s going to be lambs soon?” you asked, excited, you turned your head to look at Joel, your fingers still in the sheeps slightly dirty wool. You watched as he nodded, “Yup, hopefully not too long,” he said, he looked over at you and it was as if he hadn’t been expecting you to be looking at him. He looked a little startled to meet your eyes, you watched as his eyes moved from yours to your cheeks, a little pink from the cool spring air, to your lips, slightly pursed as you watched him. “Look, darlin’,” he stood up suddenly and the movement almost knocked you backwards into the mud. Him calling you ‘darlin’ got your heart fluttering and your cheeks flushing. “I can tell Ellie you stopped by later if you-”
“I can help with the lambs when they come!” You interjected. “I love animals and I bet I could be a big help with the sheep, I’d love to learn about it.” you told him hopefully. Joel’s eyes moved over your eager face, his brow was pinched in that familiar concern. It was like he was thinking of ways to reject you. You didn’t understand, was he really just this anti-social or was it something about you specifically? You had seen him talking to other people just fine, while he wasn’t the friendliest person he made  conversation with them, but ever since the first time you met Joel he hadn’t wanted to talk to you for long. And it wasn’t like he just didn’t pay attention to you, you had seen him looking at you almost as much as you had caught yourself staring at him. You would turn your head while talking to someone in the town square and he would be looking at you, as if you irritated him. You had once briefly thought maybe he was looking at you because he thought you were pretty but the fact that he never said more than a couple words to you dissuaded you of that.
“I dunno, I’m guessin’ there’s better things a girl like you-” 
“Oh come on, Mr. Miller! I want to help out!” You grinned at him and for a split second, his face cleared of concern and he looked ten years younger but then the almost frustrated look was back but he shrugged, “Alright, if that’s what ya want,” He said. 
The fourth week after you became friends with Ellie, the sheep had been born and you had spent every day since at the paddock behind the Miller house. Joel had shown you all around the sheep barn, told you about their schedules, and taught you a lot but mostly you snuggled the newborn lambs while he did the heavy lifting. You had gotten him to stitch a few sentences together to you and even joked with him occasionally, 
“Not sure why I let ya keep comin’ back if i’m going to be the only one haulin’ the shit,” He had said one afternoon while you sat on one of the rails of the wooden fence, cradling a lamb in your arms, one booted foot swinging back and forth and he cleaned out the stalls in the barn. 
“Don’t pretend like you don’t like my company, Mr. Miller!” You called to him, rubbing the lamb under his chin. Joel snorted as he came out of the barn, 
“I’d like it better if you did some chores,” he said, “Instead of snuggling the babies and then leavin’ me out here the second Ellie comes home.” it had sounded harsh but you could see the light in his eyes. He may tease you about helping but he hadn’t ever insisted you pick up a shovel.  You blushed,
“Do you miss me when I leave ya, Mr. Miller?” You asked boldly, eyes shining with mischief as you looked over at him. 
“I told ya to call me, Joel, darlin’” He said, not answering your question. 
One day that week you had shown up in a dress, it had been too warm for jeans, and snuggling lambs wasn’t such hard work that you needed to wear work clothes. When Joel saw you walking up in boots and a floaty cotton dress he had rolled his eyes,
“We’re droppin all pretenses now, aint we?” He asked. 
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr Miller” You answered lightheartedly as you climbed up and over the fence. You knew he had wanted you to call him Joel, but the way Mr. Miller slid off your tongue like honey was too good to pass up.  Joel’s eyes raked over you as you threw a leg over the fence and hopped down, your dress fluttering around your thighs. 
“Mhm,” he said. “You go prancing around town like this a lot?” he asked, you looked over at him, his eyes had darkened slightly and you wondered if it pissed him off that you hadn’t even come dressed like you could do work if he needed you to. 
“No? I mean
I wear dresses sometimes,” You admitted, “You know that,” you added. He had seen you in dresses before, not that you thought he had noticed. He raised his eyebrows and said nothing, going back to his work. You spent the afternoon with the lambs and their mother, taking them farther out into the paddock to let their mother eat the clover there while you bottle fed the two babies. You caught Joel looking over at you three times that day. Once he was stopped just outside the barn and watching as you knelt in the grass in front of one of the lambs, you had felt his eyes on you so you made sure you smiled and looked cute while you fed the lamb with the bottle. You wanted him to look at you, you wanted your wildest fantasies of Joel Miller thinking you were pretty to come true. Finally you allowed yourself to turn and catch him looking, when he saw you look back at him he hurriedly kept working. 
The second time, you were bent over, picking up one of the lambs and when you straightened up, your cheeks flushed as you caught Joel staring at you from just a few yards away. You realized you had probably shown off too much when you bent over, your underwear might have even been peeking out. Mortified it was you who broke away from this gaze, you refused to look back up until you could hear Joel open the door to the equipment shed. 
The last time was when you were leading the lambs and their mother sheep back towards the barn, you were going to go home soon and you were twisting the hem of your dress around your finger over and over again, pulling it shorter and shorter absentmindedly. You were focused on the lambs, hurrying them along when you turned and noticed Joel filling a bucket with water at a spigot, it was unmistakable that his eyes were on your legs. You knew your body shouldn’t warm at the thought of him looking at you like that. He was the father of a good friend of yours. He was at least 40 years older than you. You hadn’t meant to try and show off to him but what if he thought you were just that type of girl now? What he thought shouldn’t matter to you, but it did and so when he looked up and noticed you had caught him looking again, you were the one who looked away in shame even though it should have been him. 
Once you got the lambs and their mother put into their stall in the barn you came out and looked around for Joel. He was standing by the fence, leaning against it and watching the sun slowly begin to sink behind the mountains. You wandered over to him and stood next to him, you could smell him when you stood so close. Something like heady leather, rich coffee beans and the tang of the outdoors and man. You wanted to bury your nose in his shoulder to keep smelling it. 
“Mr. Miller-” You started to say but before you could apologize for wearing a dress, for not doing enough chores, for anything you might have done to upset him, ever, he grabbed your upper arm, turning so you were the one pushed up against one of the fence posts. His hand dropped from your arm to your hip, keeping you snug against the wood. The movement knocked the wind out of you, your mouth fell open and you let out a little, oof. 
“Knock it off with that Mr. Miller shit,” Joel breathed. His body was so close to you, one of his legs wedged between yours, his large hand tight on your hip, pressing through the fabric of your dress and squeezing your flesh. 
“I’m sor-” “Don’t say it.” He growled, “You come to my house lookin’ like-” he cut himself off, his eyes moving down your frame, raking over every bit of you, making you feel even more exposed than you already did. His lips twisted in what seemed like it was distaste, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Next time you come over here, you better go back to being a good girl and wear jeans or somethin’ otherwise I’ll be fixin’ to do somethin’ I’ll regret.” His voice was dangerous and it set something boiling in you. You stared up at him, eyes wide, unsure. Joel’s dark eyes felt like flames as they stared down at you, scorching you, tearing at you. You wanted to be a good girl, but even more than that, you wanted him to do that thing he’d regret,
“But, Mr. Miller-” The words slipped out of you, and you couldn’t finish the sentence before his hand found your jaw. His thumb pressed into one cheek, his fingers pressed into the other, making you look up at him.
“Enough of that.” he said. “Don’t let me catch you in a dress like that again.” He said and it sounded like nothing but a challenge. He pushed you back slightly as he took a step away from you and then turned and left you there in the darkening paddock. 
The fifth week you were friends with Ellie, you wore a dress every single day but Joel hid for you. He signed up for Patrol on the day you were supposed to go to help with the sheep. He was never at the pub or the mess hall at the same time as you. You spent time with Ellie in the converted garage, talking about friends, about Ellie’s girlfriend, and you tried your absolute hardest not to ask her about Joel and whether or not he had asked about you. You stayed late at her place, playing cards,  and when you lost your third hand of Egyptian Ratscrew you decided to head home. As you were saying goodbye, you noticed a light flick on in Joel’s place. Your heart skipped at least two beats and as soon as Ellie’s door closed, leaving you in darkness, your feet changed course from the road that lead back to the mainstreet of town and to the nearby house. You walked along the driveway and to the front door where there was less of a chance of Ellie seeing you than the back door. You weren’t even sure what you were going to do when he answered the door, what reason you were possibly going to give for coming to his house late at night, the instant you saw that he was home but your feet led you to the door anyway and before you knew it, you were knocking. 
When Joel answered the door you looked exhausted and wary, his expression turned to something you couldn’t quite recognize the second he saw you standing there, booted toes pressed together, thin dress still swishing around your thighs from your movement. Maybe the expression was irritation, maybe it was shock, maybe it was hunger. 
“Mr. Miller,” You said, testing it in your mouth, unsure of what words would come next even as you spoke. You didn’t have an excuse. The title served as a propellant, something that burned fast and hot, sending Joel careening into you. He took one step over the threshold of the door, towering above you and then grabbed both your forearms and tugged you hard. Your immediate reaction was to try and put your arms up to push him back but he held you firm and gave you a little shake,
“I told you not to let me catch you wearing a dress again, little girl.” He said. You struggled with him for a second, trying to shake your forearms out of his grip, but it was no use and you didn’t really want to anyway. You stuttered for a second,
“I’m
I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” The honeyed burn of that caused him to drag you over the threshold of his front door and slam it behind him. 
“You’re gunna be, darlin’” Joel dragged you through the entryway of the house and into the kitchen. He pushed you back into the counter, his body pressing into you again, his breath against your face. “You really think you can just be flirtin’ with me, tease me for weeks and then show up at my house in the middle of the night when I’ve been doin’ my damn best to avoid you?” 
You wanted to say you hadn’t meant to tease him, you hadn’t thought you were flirting, but thinking back on it, you had always gone out of your way to say hi. You had fluttered your eyelashes at him, and flipped your hair. Had you been that blatant? “N-no! I didn’t mean-” You started but you couldn’t even finish it. 
“You just a little slut, is that it?”Joel asked, his hands started to bunch up your dress around your hips. You gasped. No, you weren’t a slut, you hadn’t ever had sex. You hadn’t ever had a boyfriend. You hadn’t wanted to make any time for the boys in Jackson but you had been wanting Joel for a while. You tried to protest but again, the words died in your throat before they could come out because Joel was holding your dress bunched up in one hand while running a thick finger along the waistband of your underwear. “Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He breathed, his forehead was pressed into yours, you could feel his hot breath and his body pressing into yours. Yes, you did want it, but admitting that was admitting you had been acting this way specifically to get it.
“N-No!” You whined, pressing your back against the counter, trying to get away from his prying fingers but also desperately wanting it. “J-Joel!” You gasped as his hand pushed into your underwear, his fingers dipped into your slick folds, his middle finger slid up the seam of your pussy. When he reached the crest of your labia, his fingers seamlessly found your clit and tapped it, sending a spasm of pleasure through you. As quickly as he had shoved his hand into your underwear, he pulled it out, holding it up in front of your face to show off his fingers coated in your slick.
“Does this seem like no, to you, little darlin?” He asks, his voice sardonic. Your brow furrows as you look at your own juices coating his fingers. 
“Joel, I-I’ve never-” You whine and squirm where you’re standing, not sure how to say it, suddenly nervous this will all stop if you tell him. Joel reaches up with the hand that had so painfully briefly been touching your slit and cups your chin, surprisingly gentle,
“Never what, baby? Come on, spit it out, little girl.” His voice is husky, he leans in towards you, his nose pressing into the hollow of your cheek. 
“I’ve never been touched like
like that,” You manage to blurt out and Joel’s whole body seems to pause. For a moment you think he’s going to stop, he’s going to push you away and tell you to get lost, that you’re too young. But then the hand cupping your chin tightens and you feel his sharp, scratchy stubble against your cheek as he gives you a wet kiss there. He pulls back,
“Aint no one but me’s ever got the pleasure of touchin’ that pretty pussy?” he asks, there was a smile in his voice and you relax a little, he wasn’t about to shove you away. You shake your head slowly, looking up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Well, I should get proper acquainted with her then, shouldn’t I?” The words made everything in your body feel wobbly, like liquid sloshing around. His hands grab your hips and lift you backwards onto the counter. Joel shoves your knees apart and his fingers drag up your thigh towards your undies. You watch as his head tilts down to look between your bodies, his fingers moving to hook into the side of your underwear and pull them aside. Nerves make you try and clamp your legs shut and push him back, whining his name in protest at him looking at your naked sex. 
“Aw, sweetheart, I just want a little peek at her,” He convinces softly, you still whine but let his hands pry your thighs apart. His hand slips down your leg to your ankle and grabs it, pushing it back so your heel is pressed into the counter and your legs are splayed open, your body leaning back slightly. Your heart races, the idea of being exposed to his eyes is too much, you know you’re soaking through your underwear and now he can see that. Joel looks down over your undies and slowly lets go of your ankle, making sure you’ll keep it there. His pointer finger slides down your thigh to your undies, very carefully pulling them to the side, his eyes drinking up the view. “ohh, pretty girl,” he says. “You’re soakin’ for me, darlin.” He says, his eyes flick up to your face. Your whole face is red with embarrassment and desire. Joel brings his thumb up to his mouth, licks it and strokes your clit. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart hammers. All the times you had tried to touch yourself had never even come close to the way this felt. You let out a moan, your head falling back against your shoulders. 
Joel watches his thumb circle your clit, setting a steady, dizzying pace. “Good girl,” Joel said as you mewl out moans. Your body is blazing with pleasure, you can feel yourself dripping, you had never been wet like this before and it’s all because of his thumb softly circling around your clit, barely grazing it and then flicking over it in a mesmerizing pattern.  “Look at her,” Joel says with a short chuckle, “She keeps getting wetter.” His gaze fixed on your pussy and you let out a string of whines. 
Your orgasm is starting to build, you can feel it burning inside you, growing and pulsing, so close but not quite there yet.  Joel’s thumb strokes over your clit and your breath catches in your throat,
“You close, little darlin?” He asked, “I can see your cunt clenching on nothing
.she needs something in her, doesn’t she?” You nod vigorously, unable to talk, unable to form a coherent thought. You didn’t care that you had never had anything inside of you, you needed his thick fingers. Your eyes open and look down at him, his face is tilted down, examining your sex, his grey peppered hair pushed back away from his face. His eyes move up to meet yours,
“Beg me for it, sweetheart.” he says, his eyes dark with lust. Your mouth falls open, your brow furrows and you shake your head, 
“C-can’t.” You whined, pressing your hips forward towards his finger as it continues its slow calculated pace of stroking your clit. 
“Yes you can, beg me to fill you up. Your poor, soaking pussy needs it, darlin. Come on, use those words I know you have.” He coaxed. You had never felt so filthy, you wanted to beg for his thick fingers in your virgin pussy but you couldn’t find the words, your brain was mush. “Beg.” he instructed. You whined, feeling like you were going insane and finally the words tumbled out of you,
“Please
please, please fill me up. Finger me, J-Joel. I need it in my pussy. Oh god, please, I’m soaking for it, she needs your fingers in her, please, Joel!” You babbled and whined as his thumb continued to stroked around and around your clit, occasionally swiping over it, bringing you closer and closer to that building orgasm. 
“Say, ‘please finger fuck me, Mr. Miller.’” He instructed, his middle finger notching itself at your entrance, not quite pushing in, just teasing your hole. 
“ughhhh!! Please! Please finger fuck me, Mr. Miller!” You moaned out, louder than you thought you were capable of. Joel let out a satisfied chuckle but instead of pushing that middle finger into your eager hole, his whole hand moved away from your throbbing sex. He delicately took the side of your undies and replaced them back over your swollen sex. 
“Wha- oh god
no! Joel!” You whined, pressing your hips forward, your cunt clenching on nothing. 
“Nuh-uh,” Joel said, looking over your face, smirking. “You spent weeks teasing me.”
“I didn’t know I was-” “Bullshit, little darlin’” Joel said. “‘Please, Mr. Miller can I please spend all my time at your house caring for the cute little lambs, bending over and dressin’ like a slut’” He mimicked you meanly and raised his eyebrow at you. “If you’re going to act like a naughty girl, I’m going to treat you like a naughty little girl.” He said, leaning down to be level with you. You stared at him, feeling like you might go completely crazy. You opened your mouth and then closed it again. Joel pressed his lips to yours in a soft, chaste kiss. When he pulled away he touched your nose, 
“Say ‘thank you, Mr. Miller.’” he insisted. 
“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” You mumbled, dazed. 
“Good girl, will you come check on the lambs tomorrow?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “Ellie is on patrol all day.” Joel stroked his finger down the bridge of your nose. You gazed up into his eyes and nodded. 
“Yup, I really think sheep keeping is super interesting.” You said, still dazed and needy.
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renn-aissance · 1 day ago
Text
Mom Plays BG3: Ep.2 - “Look at Him, He Wants It”
She’s getting better at moving around. It’s hard to explain but she doesn’t turn the camera to look around before she starts clicking around to move 😀
Mom: “I’m trying to go behind me.”
Me: “You should turn the camera so you can look behind you.”
Mom: “I’m worried I’ll get lost.”
Me: “I know a way to help you from getting lost.”
Both of us: *Silence.*
Me: “The map-“
Mom: “The map.”
Mom: *Slowly turns the camera - Not because she doesn’t know how, she just turns it very slowly for some reason.*
Mom: “I think
 I need to walk that way
”
Mom: *Immediately starts clicking the opposite way she wants to go.*
Me: “You can
 check the map.”
Mom: *Keeps clicking for a bit then stops.*
Mom: *Checks map.*
Mom: “Oh I’m way off.”
Me (softly): “yeah.”
*Both of us laugh.*
She’s definitely getting the hang of things. She successfully got to Zevlor’s office by herself using the map đŸ„Č They grow up so fast.
Rundown of what she has done this time:
While we were starting the game up she said “I kept thinking about what happened. It kept me up, I couldn’t sleep just thinking about him (Gale) getting mad. He really rubbed me the wrong way. I don’t know about this guy.”
Saved the kid from the Harpies. Actually, she did that yesterday, but I forgot to add it.
Saved Arabella but after failing two persuasion checks. She was stressed throughout that whole interaction. Before that, she had talked to Arabella’s parents but didn’t know what was going on and told them “thieves deserve to be punished.”
“I didn’t know what they were talking about! To be honest I have no idea what’s going on. Or what any of this means.”
Her first reload. Luckily I had her save before that. She then told them they had their work cut out for them lol.
She took the wyvern toxin from Nettie. (Afterwards I told her “Oh, she tried to kill me when I wouldn’t take it. We fought to the death.” My mom was just like “
Well. Doesn’t mean I have to drink it. I’ll just keep it. I wasn’t gonna take it, are you crazy?”)
We long rested and she talked to all of the companions. I think she really likes Wyll.
Told Zevlor she’d kill Kagha.
She stopped the Tieflings from killing Sazza, but failed a couple of persuasion checks. Left Sazza in the cage.
Sazza: “I don’t need you.”
Mom: “Well
 that’s enough of that.”
Also accidentally clicked to search the body of that first Tiefling who died at the gate when the Goblins attacked, and right in front of the one mourning over his body 😬 Gets scolded.
Mom: “I didn’t mean it! Let me see if the other one wants to talk
”
Mom: *clicks on other mourning Tiefling.*
Tiefling: “Can’t you see we’re mourning!”
Mom: “I just came over to say sorry.” (Booked it after lol)
Killed the Bugbear assassin and saved the tiefling by the telescope.
Talked to the Tiefling and learned about soul coins.
When her TAV had the coin in her hand and was looking at it, Gale was in the background smiling.
Mom: *Points at Gale.*
Mom: “Hm. Look at him, he wants it. Uh-uh. This guy’s trouble.”
My mom is not afraid to use the illithid powers. If there’s an option to probe minds, she does it immediately lol.
She went to that area with the spider egg pouch and Raphael showed up there which confused me. (I’ve just always had him show up at the bridge. I had her save). Here’s the thing about my mom - she’s pretty religious and doesn’t like ‘devil’ stuff lol I collect tarot cards and she HATES it lol. It creeps her out. So Raphael shows up and transports her to the House of Hope with the feast on the table and the fireplace. My mom knows nothing about this guy. Her immediate reaction:
Mom: “Now this is more like it.”
I’m sitting behind her so she can’t see my reactions to what she’s doing and I’m losing my shit, wondering if she’ll make the deal or not. She’s been so unpredictable so far so I genuinely don’t know what she’s gonna choose.
Raphael: “What’s better than a devil you don’t know
 A devil you do.”
Mom: *Silent.*
Raphael: *blah blah blah wants your soul.*
She doesn’t make the deal. Chooses the options that are like “I would never make a deal with a devil.”
Talks to the companions after and succeeds a check to probe Sharty Bae’s mind.
Talks to Gale last about Raphael.
Mom: “Okay now THIS guy.”
Gale: “Do you feel as flattered as I do? Invited to dine with the devil
”
Mom: “Of course you do.”
Mom: *Turns to me.*
Mom: “This guy.”
Gale made some valid points that she didn’t disagree with. I don’t think that Gale can say ANYTHING without her thinking he’s up to something. He did not make a great first impression lol She did slap his hand before she pulled him out of the portal.
Said he was addicted to magic but still agreed to give him magical items to consume, but she’s not thrilled about the whole thing.
OH YEAH SHE TOLD ROLAN AND THEM TO LEAVE THE GROVE. I’ve done two playthroughs and didn’t do that, so idk if that’s gonna change what happens to the tieflings at all 😬
She also takes time to read whatever notes or books I point out to her. I told her she didn’t have to, but she ignores me to read.
My mom @ Gale:
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writing-mlm · 2 hours ago
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Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !
Stay for dinner-breakfast
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Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight
When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.
Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 
While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what
 a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 
The answer was no. 
The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?
“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 
“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 
“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 
“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 
He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 
“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 
“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 
“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 
“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 
“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 
“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 
“Who
?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.
“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.
You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 
There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.
“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.
“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 
“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.
“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 
“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 
“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 
“Yeah,” He shrugs. 
“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.
“Yup.”
“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.
“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.
“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 
When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 
Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.
“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 
“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 
“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.
“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”
He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 
Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 
“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 
“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 
“Spell,” You respond. “A
 boobtrap for the talisman.”
“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.
“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.
“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 
“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 
“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.
“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 
“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.
“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 
“That was one voice!”
“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 
“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.
“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 
“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 
When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 
“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 
“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 
“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 
“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 
“Mhmm, well, bye!” 
“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 
“Is it
” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.
“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.
“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 
“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”
“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 
“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 
“No.”
“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.
“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”
Tim sighs but relents. 
“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 
“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 
—
“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 
“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 
“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 
“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 
Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 
“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 
“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 
“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 
“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 
“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 
“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 
“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 
The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 
Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 
And that was for one simple reason.
Tim was a hero. 
You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 
Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 
“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”
“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 
“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.
“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 
“I really should be going,” 
“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.
“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 
He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 
“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 
Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.
—
“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.
“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 
“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 
“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.
“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 
“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 
“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.
“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 
“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with
 a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 
“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.
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florencechase · 14 hours ago
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So I came across the Mayfair Witches thing with Lestat and Felix, and like pretty much everyone on here I was bummed but then I though about it for a very long time, went through the books again and
 here’s how I think they can still make it work. Just as a disclaimer though, I’ve only fully read IWTV and TVL, and am currently like 1/3 through QOTD, so if there’s anything in the books after that that disproves my theory I’m sorry! But since the Lestat/Felix arc takes place towards the end of IWTV, I thought I’d still give it a go.
So the main issue here that people bring up is that if Lestat taught Felix to “cull the herd”, he can’t be book Lestat because book Lestat admits to only killing the “evildoers”, so why would he tell Felix to be so merciless? The answer: it’s complicated.
Lestat, the book and the show version, is unfortunately (or fortunately because that’s part of what makes him so interesting) a man who often does the opposite of what he says. I took a closer look at his first moments with Gabrielle after he turns her, and we have a similar situation in which he’s teaching her how to kill. Here’s an excerpt from it:
“I found a victim as soon as we had crossed the river [
] [a]nd as I lured the victim out of the tavern, as I teased him, maddened him, and then took him, I knew I was showing off for her, making it a little crueler, more playful. And when the kill came, it had an intensity to it that left me spent afterwards.” (TVL, p. 147)
When he’s teaching others how to kill, he likes to show off. Simple as that. I’m sure the victim he chose was a criminal, like most his victims, but the point is he never told Gabrielle that. To her knowledge what Lestat just did was brutally murder some random man. Two pages later we have the following passage when Gabrielle makes her first kill and it’s the guy on the horse she ends up stealing the clothes from:
“I was shaken. The innocence of her victims didn’t trouble her. She didn’t fight my moral battles. But then I didn’t fight them anymore either, so why should I judge her? Yet the ease witch which she slew the young man – gracefully breaking his neck when the little drink she took was not enough to kill him – angered me tough it had been extremely exciting to watch. She was colder than I. She was better at all of it, I thought. Magnus had said, “Show no mercy.” But had he meant us to kill when we did not have to kill?” (TVL, pp. 149-150)
Lestat obviously doesn’t feel comfortable killing innocent people, but there’s not one scene in which he either tells someone he’s having moral dilemmas with it, or tells others they shouldn’t kill innocent people. It’s his thing, and it’s his struggle, but he never shares it until he writes about it in TVL. Here’s another excerpt that highlights this:
“When [Louis] says I played with innocent strangers, befriending them and then killing them, how was he to know that I hunted almost exclusively among the gamblers, the thieves, and the killers, being more faithful to my unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even I had hoped I would be?” (TVL, pp. 434-435)
The key phrase here is “how was he to know”, so Louis had no idea! All this time he spent with Louis, and he never told him that’s what he was doing! Which brings me back to the show, to the reunion moment where Lestat tells Louis “I don’t like to point out my virtues.”
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Of course, in the context he’s talking about not telling him he saved him at the trial, but it’s a pretty general statement about himself and it’s true, so far, in the book. He only kills innocent people, never tells anyone about it. He saves Louis at the trial, never tells anyone about it. And while I’ve seen some theories about how him not telling Louis he saved him was part of some pact he made with Armand, I’m just going to take things at face value here until the show proves otherwise.
Lestat always claims he’s “evil” in the books, but he does a whole bunch of stuff to disprove that. I think part of why he doesn’t let people know his good deeds is because there’s a part of him that wants to be perceived as the “evil monster” that he sees himself as. It’s the biggest irony ever for Lestat out of all vampires to claim he’s evil when he’s never acted with malicious intent (in the books, but I would even say in the show as well but the show is more complex in that regard).
The big thing about Lestat, which would also set him apart from show!Louis is that he does his thing and lets others do their thing. He doesn’t interfere with others, doesn’t tell them how to live their lives “the correct way”. Sure, he has many heated discussions about it with Nicki, but those are not him telling Nicki he should live according to his philosophy just because he thinks it’s the correct way to view life. Nicki hates himself at that point, which just gets worse with his way of thinking, and Lestat’s trying to pull him out of that. Nicki’s worldview is actively harmful to him and at least part of the reason for his eventual demise. But that’s not really relevant here, so I’m just going to leave it at that.
Which brings me back to Felix and Lestat. Did he, at some point, go out of his shack to kill people to show Felix how to do it? Not necessarily. The show doesn’t say he did, he could’ve simply just told him how to do it, he did after all figure it out himself too. It’s pretty intuitive I suppose for a vampire, and even when Claudia does her first kill Lestat isn’t shown killing first. He waits in the car with Louis and Claudia manages just fine.
Lestat knows what’s in their nature as vampires, but he himself doesn’t follow it at all times. It’s implied in one of the excerpts above, when he says he’s “being more faithful to [his]unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even [he] had hoped [he] would be.” He’s not holding himself to any strict rules or high standards here. He’s trying his best, and if he takes an innocent life, he probably feels uncomfortable about it (while he secretly enjoys the feeling) but he’s probably just like “oh well.”
And with Felix, it could absolutely be a situation of do as I say, not as I do. He teaches him what’s in their nature, but he himself chooses to do differently. That, to me, sounds quite a lot like book!Lestat.
Besides, another aspect I’d like to point out is the definition of the word “cull”. Since English isn’t my native language, I had to look it up to really get all the nuances it implies. Here’s what google says:
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“Selective slaughter”. Now here’s where I might be wrong and please correct me if I am, but since there are parallels to Darwin in MW, couldn’t that also imply selectively killing a particular group of people? As in, weed out the evildoers, or the weakest who don’t have a chance of survival anyways (as Lestat does after Louis tries to kill him)? The latter would make sense with the Darwin parallel. What we see in MW may be skewed through Felix’ perspective. I haven’t watched MW, but these things happen all the time in IWTV. Killing mercilessly may be only his interpretation of what Lestat said.
TL;DR: Lestat understands vampiric nature well enough to teach others how to kill “like a vampire” when he himself still chooses to do differently. He also doesn’t “like to point out [his] virtues” which is why he never actually told anyone he only kills criminals.
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mask131 · 7 hours ago
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This is about Neil Gaiman's work - this is NOT about the rape accusations, but it is about the aftermath of them. I wanted to make a post for some times now about works you could read that were similar to Gaiman's works if you wanted to go see something akin to his fictional world without directly supporting him. Which would have been a VERY easy post since Gaiman kept listing everywhere the works that influenced directly or indirectly his own novels and creations. But I realized other people were already doing this, so I just thought "Heh, let's not bother with this".
And then I randomly stumbled upon this post which is trending on Tumblr. And this post got me a little mad. Because while I do agree that several of the facts in there should be more well-known and more talked about... I also think this post is quite unfair in its depiction of how Gaiman acted towards his inspirations.
People are currently screaming that Neil Gaiman plagiarized stuff by "taking huge inspiration from things and not crediting people". Except... he did credit people. It's just that his fans never bothered to go look for what inspired him. I was there back in the old days - so I saw exactly how it went. Don't start telling me Neil Gaiman purposefully stayed "silent" about the works that inspired him - I clearly saw how people were just apathetic. Myself when I compiled lists and made posts about all the works that preceeded Neil Gaiman or that he explained were his inspirations for things, people didn't bother and had no interest... but when I made a list of Gaiman's work suddenly everybody reblogged. Whether Gaiman plagiarized or not is not the thing I want to talk about today - but I want to HEAVILY criticize the way people are saying "Neil Gaiman never said he took X from X" when in fact, he did, and people were just too lazy to do their research. (Or, if you take the "Gaiman is a villain " angle, Gaiman counted on the fact people would not bother to read the original books and he won his bet!)
I am deeply sorry for this rant but it is a little trigger for me, since I have been studying and exploring the "chain" of inspirations and rewritings throughout literature and the fantasy genre (half for university work, half for personal hobby), and I have seen people literaly ignore all the bibliographies given to them under titles like "If you want to read more of the sort". [For example the original post talks about how Martin was very honest about how he took inspiration from Druon's book series. Fair. But nobody is talking about how he indeed kind of "plagiarized" Memory, Sorrow and Thorn. A lot of people don't know about this series, despite said series having literaly almost all of ASoIaF's supernatural - in fact, the reason Martin seems to be under-using his own supernatural creations, like the White Walkers, is precisely because they don't come from his mind and they are just a copy of Williams' Norns and he seems to not really know what to do with them. But that's a talk for another day.]
EDIT: I realized the post got very long, so all my personal objections and my argumentative points against the post I linked above will be under a cut. And if you want a conclusion to my long rant below the cut, it is this one: You can shit all you want about Gaiman, but at least get your facts right. It is not because someone turns out to be a bad person that you must feel the need to blast cultural misinformation. Heck, I will directly compare it to how the entire Internet wished and wanted Rowling to have "plagiarized" Gaiman's Books of Magic, because of their similarities, only for Gaiman himself to point out, no, it was not plagiarism, it was just a set of similarities and coincidences due to both works coming from a same British culture with a specific background in children literature and fantasy works. It just happened that people didn't know anything outside of Harry Potter and Gaiman's works and so assumed it was the only two pieces of a much vaster puzzle...
Yes, Neil Gaiman is very derivative. Yes he is very imitative. But he never hid it? He always said he was, he always pointed out the works that influenced him, he always listed the stuff that he based his own works upon - down to sometimes helping these works come out of obscurity when they were too forgotten (like the Lud-in-mist novel?). People are doing a "surprised Pikachu face" today but... he never hid his derivatiness. In fact it was a certain part of the "charm" people found in his work back in the days. He never hid anything, it's just that a lot of people didn't want to see it or didn't care about it...
Gaiman posted an entire page on his blog for American Gods (back in the early days of Internet, he had a blog to follow his writing process for American Gods, weeks after week, you can still find it somewhere) listing the three dozen of books that inspired him/that he took elements from/that he learned stuff from. People can accuse him of having plagiarized Zelazny's work in American Gods because of one scene - Wednesday having Shadow drive into the "Backstage", which is a rewrite of the "driving to Amber" scene from The Nine Princes of Amber. But the accusation of "plagiarism" becomes a bit muddled when you know that A) Gaiman has been screaming for years about how the main source of inspiration for American Gods were all of Zelazny's mythological works and B) He literaly dedicated American Gods to Zelazny, first page you open.
When does an homage becomes too much? When is plagiarism allowed? Is taking after public domain a bad thing? What are the moral consequences of your work overshadowing your source of inspiration? These are questions I am not wanting to answer today and this post isn't about them - plus things are even more complex when you remember Gaiman was one of the most fervent defensers and advocates of fanfiction, reacting positively to it and encouraging people to do it a lot ; as well as one of the main celebrities on Tumblr to warn people to NOT send him fanfics so that it wouldn't cause legal troubles of potential plagiarism.
Anyway, my actual angry rant is below.
I/ Tanith Lee and Sandman
The post that got me angry starts with Tanith Lee. I do agree that it is a shame Tanith Lee is not more talked about and didn't receive as much fame as she deserved. I do agree that Neil Gaiman's work was heavily inspired by Tanith Lee's writing. I do agree Gaiman's work overshadowed Lee's own (for a long time I didn't know she was the first one to do a vampiric Snow-White twist, before Gaiman's own). However I have to recuse the idea that Sandman is a rip-off of Tales from Flat-Earth.
It doesn't help that the person who made this original claim clearly doesn't know very much about either Lee's Flat-Earth or Gaiman's Sandman (with easy to debunk claims like how "Delusion" is one of Gaiman's Endless - no, the character does not exist). For example the poster rightfully compares how the top-dogs of the supernatural pantheon of Lee's Flat-Earth are the Masters of Night, Death and Delirium, wth the Master of Night's physical appearance echoing Dream of the Endless' appearance... However the comparison stops there, unlike what the poster tries to claim, because the Master of Night is a demon who rules over hatred, fear, curses and malevolence first and foremost - and is this world's equivalent of Satan/Iblis - and is not a personification of dreams, imaginations and sleep like Morpheus. Also, unlike what the OP claims, the Demon Princes are not like the Endless, "eternal entities beyond gods" - on the contrary, it is shown by book one the Demon Princes CAN be killed, and that there are gods who are a distinct species far above the Demons.
It is also incomplete to try to claim that having Dream and Death be siblings is a "proof" of Tanith Lee plagiarism... Because Gaiman is very explicit in his narrative of how Dream and Death are transpositions of the Thanatos & Hypnos/Thanatos & Morpheus twinship present in Greco-Roman mythology (Ovid's "Gates of Horn and Ivory" are literaly there in the first issues). Plus, since we do have the original manuscripts and the proposition draft Gaiman sent to DC (it is in the bonus of collected editions and in companion books), we know Gaiman originally had just three Endless in mind, Death, Dream (who was a reshape of DC's Sandman super-hero), and Destiny (who pre-existed in DC's universe), Delirium only coming far later.
That being said, I am feeling very sad for Tanith Lee through the testimony of her friend - how, again, she had trouble becoming a recognized author despite her work being very influential and frequently talked about for the fantasy genre (all the fantasy manuals and guides and encyclopedias of France list her among the authors to be read), and I do feel her distate for Neil Gaiman's work vampirizing hers is very justified. But to jump into saying Sandman is a copy-paste or a full on rip-off of Flat-Earth is unfair and very limiting. Flat-Earth was one of the inspirations of Sandman, but it doesn't own "everything" to it.
Plus, the OP also gets very angry at how Gaiman "never" talked about Tanith Lee and ... you know how I got to learn about Tanith Lee, and how I got encouraged to read her? Through Gaiman's Tumblr blog, where he regularly listed her as part of the authors that inspired him/the fantasy authors he enjoyed/the authors he encouraged others to read. I saw her appear like five different times on his Tumblr, and without him I probably wouldn't have started getting curous about her. So he did talk about her and he did present her as one of his inspirations and favorite authors... At least on Tumblr, and for several years.
II/ Coraline and Thief of Always
The comments mention Coraline and the Thief of Always as possibly being another "plagiarism" of Gaiman... I remember when Neil Gaiman was asked on his Tumblr about how similar Thief of Always and Coraline were, and he simply answered with the fact he and Barker had a similar thought process and came up with akin works though very different in the results.
You could say it is a form of copy or plagiarism (though Gaiman at least did an effort to make Coraline the almost opposite of Thief of Always in several ways). But I will have to point out that that Neil Gaiman and Clive Barker know each other, and that it has been reported, talked about and evoked a lot of times how they hanged in the same circles, with the same people, and exchanged thoughts, and talked about their mutual creations. We know Gaiman talked of the early Sandman issues when they were created with Alan Moore and Clive Barker, while Moore talked of his creation of From Hell. We also know that a part of the Sandman's universe was indirectly created by Barker - as Gaiman explained the idea for naming Desire's domain "The Threshold" came from a story Clive Barker had planned but never wrote, exploring the puns "threshold" could offer.
To my knowledge Clive Barker never claimed that Gaiman plagiarized him or stole from him with Coraline? But I might be wrong.
III/Other details
The comment about the "Lovecraft and Doyle" comparison is clearly taken out of context, because it was literaly about a story which WAS a literal Sherlock Holmes meets Cthulhu fanfiction, "A Study in Emerald". The commenter seems to think this comment applied to Gaiman's entire work? No it does not.
I don't know anything about the Lenny Henry situation, I will have to look for this.
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ilikekidsshows · 2 days ago
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Different Anon from Abuser AU ask. But I need to vent somewhere.
I hate the fact that even if u excluded Adrien and Alya bashing u still could see fic where writer demonized them for something they didn't do/something they did do but blow out proportion by Marinette standom.
Like I found many fics that tagged Adrien/Alya redemption (I didn't see the tag at first, only that it doesn't have bashing tag and from summary it Lila exposed fic). Redemption from what exactly? For not letting her killing her social life because she low-key look albeist from outsiders perspective and advice her to take the high road? For not believing her accusations to new girl in town because Marinette have no proof and have history being nasty to love rival?
How those fics literally have Marinette beat them down to compliance, have a reason why your wrong speech, and give them no choice but to follow her every whim and practically reek of,
See, she's not racist or victim blaming abuse victim or anything. It doesn't matter if they were treated worse second to Lila only she gave them a chance! They should be grateful!
Anyway I excluded those tags too now and ml fanfiction got better.
Until season 5 final happened and now too many fanfiction focus about how Marinette felt bad gaslighting her boyfriend and how Adrien feeling being sidelined on those fic. Ugh.
---
That’s what happens when certain attitudes get normalized. Like, long ago, while I still loved the show, the normalization of Alya and Adrien salt was something that got discussed. How people who weren’t even writing saltfics or redemption fics would still include some kind of mention of Adrien, Alya and the classmates apologising for the common saltfic talking points even when the fic wasn’t about that because that’s how normalized the thought that they’d done something wrong had become. People thought they had to address it, even as a throwaway line. While that doesn’t make the fic itself salt, facing a sudden salt trope in a non-salt fic really took me out of it.
I’m saying that, like, even with the typical saltfic tags excluded from searches, looking up Miraculous fanfics can be a game of Russian Roulette on whether or not an innocuous-looking fic will actually include salt or just salt reminders. And now, as you said, we have the canon abuse apologia to contend with. Because, like, how would the fic authors even tag that, when they’re literally just writing the same stuff that’s going on in canon?. Maybe, if we’re lucky, the fandom might mature enough in the future that we’ll get a “canon-typical abuse apologia” tag. I wouldn’t put too much faith into that, though.
Miraculous fanfiction has a pretty big problem with this kind of thing, which is why fanfic recommendation lists are pretty popular in the fandom, at least from what I’ve seen. I suggest looking up “Miraculous fanfic recommendations” or “Miraculous fanfic recs”, because those recommendations usually list out what the appeal of any given fic is, so you can screen out any “Marinette is so sad about gaslighting Adrien, let’s feel sorry for her for the next ten thousand words” fics.
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anetrazduckwalk · 3 days ago
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BE QUIET - SEVIKA
Modern AU
Badly written smut lol
MEN DNI
Sevika and I were in our room getting ready for the club, the gang are going to some club, so were all busy with ourselves. I'm really focusing on me and getting what i need to get done, but Sevika’s huffing and puffing about the littlest of things and Rans' is not here to listen to it. My makeup is done, my outfit is picked out, and i'm doing my hair at the moment when Sevika brings her B.S. in the bathroom. This Bitch..
Sevika starts putting on her eyeliner and shes not even just doing it mad silently, she's slamming down her stuff and side eyeing me like i'm the one that she was mad at.
"Sevika, what the fuck is your problem?" I asked her straight up because this attitude wasn't gonna cut it today, and i was feeling bold today. Instantly regretted that real quick, the glare Sevika sent me through the mirror almost burnt a hole through my soul and i quickly broke eye contact. "I don't know if you’re just stupid or have a death wish, Y/N, say it again real slow this time,"
Well shit, today's the day i die. I looked back up at her through the mirror and saw she was still looking at me, but now ready to snatch me up. My gaze shifted to her actual figure and not just an image of her reflection, taking in every detail about her, I felt bad for snapping. This was my fiancée and i sitting here, yelling, getting frustrated with her, instead of comforting and understanding where shes coming from.
"Im sorry, I didn't meant to snap at you, it's been a rough day." Only thing left to do was apologize when i realized my wrongs.. WRONG. Now she doesn't look like she wants to kill me, instead shes moving closer to me and she pressed me against the bathroom sink. Sevika was about to say something before Lock knocked on the room door, Sevika huffed and looked down at me, "This only just made it ten times worse for you." That scared me a little bit more than I think she intended, Sevika walked out of the bathroom and went to go answer the door, meanwhile I tried to finish my hair while quite literally freaking out over what i had just gotten myself into.
This could've just been a fun lit night and my dumbass is gonna start something, something I cant even really handle because what I look like fighting my fiancĂ©. Lock and Sevika are now in the room talking about outfits and what Silco’s game plane is for the night. Took me about twenty minutes to finishes my hair, walking out of the bathroom, I grabbed my outfit laying on the bed. Lock bald ass not even really paying attention and is busy talking about Deckard, when i turn around to go back and change in the bathroom, Sevika lets her hand linger on my hip and butt for as long as I was close to her.
Sevika POV
Were in the van on our way to the club and Ran is on my right talking to me about how this experience feels for her, Y/N is on my left and for a moment I forgot about how annoyed I was at her because of how good she looked. My baby knows how to dress, if we weren't fighting i would've dressed my babygirl myself. Y/N is like a little doll I can spoil and look at.
She's all quiet to herself and in her phone, I see the long face bitch Thieram staring at her, and I'm trying to figure out if he is looking for a problem. It seems like I keep getting cut off from my thoughts because Ran asked me something about the club and distracted me. I forgot about it Thieram after that but if he still needs that he cant get that.
We pull up to the club and we make it inside. Every body is dancing to the songs and vibing, some top single booming in the speakers, i didn't care for any of the top new music. So i stood of to the side vibing, until I noticed Y/N’s friendly ass made her way by Thieram and Lock, this girl just knows how to get under my skin. Im used to being treated like her god and i'm not going for this today,
"Y/N."
I didn't scream her name, but i did yell it over the music, so she could bring her ass back where she belongs. Y/N quickly turning around and makes her way to my side, immediately slinging her arm around my waist and resting her head on my chest, looking up at me. Her soft eyes melted my heart a little and I couldn't help but play with her hair and scratch her scalp a little. "If you were this cute all the time, I wouldn't have to F*ck you up," Y/N giggled and kissing my cheek, "I try to be, but you're always so mean to me" She whispered in my ear then pulled back and pouted at me, we had only been there for an hour and it seemed like she was drunk.
Y/N POV
Y'all, Im fucked up. Soon as we got there I started taking all these shots and now it's getting harder and harder to resist Sevika. She's talking to me about how she doesn't like being mean to me but i'm not hearing none of it, the liquor got her looking so damn good. When she's talking I think she realized I wasn't listening when i was just staring at her, while biting my lip.
"Sevika.."
I breathily moaned in her ear, becoming briefly unaware of our surroundings, she started to kiss down my neck and behind my ear. Its baddie baddie shot o'clock, but i'm really not trying to hear all that, we move further to the back of the club, while the gang takes shots. "Be quiet for me tonight, mkay?" Sevika said before resuming what we were previously doing.
Sevika POV
I'm behind Y/N as we're making our way up the stairs to our room, as soon as she pushes the door open and i'm in behind her, the door is shut and locked. When i turn back around from locking it, shes standing at the dresser taking off her jewelry. This makes me go and stand behind her, kissing her shoulder as I slide off her outfit with haste. As soon as she's stripped to nothing, my hand snakes down between her thighs and i slip two fingers into her, "Oh wow, they just went right in, how long have you been thinking about this? Little whore all wet for me? hm?" I chuckled out as I wasted no time going faster, even though I waited all night for this, the night took forever to end and Im tired.
My hand grips at Y/N hair and pushes her onto the bed, now bent over the bed, dripping on display just for me.
Y/N POV
I feel her fingers enter me again and start at an intense pace, my mouth cannot control itself and and I start moaning out, forgetting I'm in the house with all of these other people just waiting to start trouble. Sevika’s free hand comes up to my mouth and covers it while never stopping her other hand,"What did i say? Be quiet"
Her voice made me whimper into her hand and try to silence my noises better, the pleasure was getting to much. My hand grabbed onto Sevikas hand and squeezed to let her know i was getting closer, she took the hint and started kissing my sweet spot which quickly sent me over the edge and covering her hand in sticky honey. Sevika licked up her hand and as i thought she was going to get stuff to wind down with, all of a sudden I feel a hard tip pressed against me. Sevika was behind me and before I could ever ask anything, she was pushing in and out of me slowly, my hand went to press against her stomach and push her back "Its okay, im gonna be nice and gentle with you."
My eyes closed and my mouth slightly dropped open in pleasure, sweet sounds coming from my mouth before covered by Sevika hand again, not wanting to get us caught by anybody right next door. Suddenly her speed rapidly increased, causing my eyes so open and Sevikas attempt at muffling the sounds was failing by the second. With her forceful and quick strokes, my hand grasped at the sheets quickly approaching my release, then sevika just pulls out and starts taking it off.
“Girl what? what are you doing?”
She about to pmo. Sevika moved up the bed and lays at the head of the bed and pats in between her legs, I crawl my way up between them and become aware of the numbness in certain parts of my body. She grabs me by my hair and kisses me, the kiss is drunk and sloppy. My hands run down her body and settle on her boobs, squeezing them, Sevika had pressed the dildo between my legs and slowly started pushing it in during the kiss. After it was in there for a while, she started at a quick pace while making sure i dont stop from kissing her. My legs were tightly clasped around her arm as she was pushing it in and out, my mind began to melt and a euphoric feeling rushing over me as I came all over the dildo and her hand.
I was exhausted and my eyes were forcing themselves closed. Sevika had joined me back in bed and laid beside me, hadn't even notice she had went to clean up everything. I cuddle into her and she pulled me closer, "when you learn to be quiet, I can treat you like my princess , alright baby?" She scratched up and down my back lightly and it soon started to lull me to sleep. I didn't really respond to her just acknowledged what she said and passed out.
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Dont say I never gave yall nothing lol, bout to go on another 2 year hiatus
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majorbaby · 2 years ago
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Ok, same anon, but seriously re: how to make an anti-war movie/series. I think there's a lot of tid bits in MASH regarding the characters that should have been emphasized that I think would have driven home how absurd and disgusting war is and just how obscene war is. It would of course required making Hawkeye, BJ, Trapper, MUCH more unlikeable but these are (misogyny, molesting the nurses, righteousness, getting away with everything, so and and so forth) all traits they already have but just emphasized and shown front and center. They wouldn't have to tack on a pointed message or anything the horror of the characters actions would speak for themselves. Just imagine war show that unabashedly shows soldiers (drafted or not) acting out the worst of humanity and leaving the audience to decide the fates of the characters.
Yeah I think that's one way to do it, MASH 1970 leaned into that pretty hard. Hawkeye and Trapper are the heroes of the movie but they're definitely not heroes in general. I think early MASH does a pretty good job making you watch an anti-war show without hating every second of it and without feeling the messaging is tacked-on. Half the time you are laughing so hard you're not even realizing that there's an agenda here. Yankee Doodle Doctor even acknowledges "... but then, no war is a movie." But then we wouldn't have a show. Larry Gelbart's answer to this paradox was to never give us an inch. We got a sixteenth of an inch at the most: Frank never redeems himself. Henry doesn't make it home. Trapper makes it home but his exit is bitten-off and he doesn't get to adopt Kim. Frequent mood-whiplashes. Undermining "found family". A constant doubling-down on "nothing good from war". Much later admitting that in order for the show to remain true to its anti-war messaging, it could not, or rather should not, drag out.
Episodes like For the Good of the Outfit (with its sarcastic title), Yankee Doodle Doctor (an in-universe sarcastic title), Doctor Pierce and Mr. Hyde, Officer of the Day, The General Flipped at Dawn, Big Mac, White Gold all do a pretty good job imo at delivering the message via satire. And I guess you could argue that some of the things Hawkeye and Trapper do are morally wrong, Trapper cheating on his wife, Hawkeye two-timing women, taking out a colonel's appendix and feeling nothing but giddy about it (RIP BJ)... but all these things are framed as "indecencies in the middle of one giant indecency." MASH 1970 and MASH the tv show do these things to make the point that "it's nowhere near as terrible as war". And I think that's a good point to make, there's a difference between violence and state violence, why should the state have a monopoly on horror while everyone else gets judged by their peers? Trapper seriously considers murdering a patient in cold blood, a sign that the propaganda is working on him - I think that goes directly to what you're suggesting. It's less of a character flaw and more a show of the machine having its intended affect on a mostly otherwise good person.
ftr there are episodes in the later years that try to deliver this messaging, but nowhere near as consistently as the early years, the episodes aren't written around that messaging anymore and it's usually shown as a character individually wrestling with some reaction to something terrible that the war has brought them. Letters is one, Depressing News another, Peace on Us a third... note however that in all of these episodes the heavy lifting falls to Hawkeye. From BJ and Charles I get more of a sense that they are both generally opposed to human pain/suffering, and they are both incensed to have had their lives disrupted by the draft (which is fair) - but it's less of an ideological opposition.
I'm not shooting down your idea as to how to create an anti-war show, I think it's a good suggestion, I just also think that MASH did do a halfway decent job some of the time at being anti-war.
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nikolas-ghostbusters-fixation · 5 months ago
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Something I've been thinking a lot about lately is how everyone thought Egon had gone insane. What Happened that made them think that. They've fought a gigantic Stay Puft Marshmellow Man TWICE (counting the 2009 video game because iirc it's canon? Correct me if I'm wrong), fought an interdimensional god, fought a blood thirsty ruler that killed thousands and was hated by all that was trapped in a painting (and managed to get in to beat him by making THE STATUE OF LIBERTY start walking down the street with slime that reacted purely based on vibes), found an underground abandoned transit system full of the moodslime, had a bathtub try to eat Dana and her baby, fought a giant murderous black widow lady, fought the fisherman ghost who turned an entire hotel floor into the bottom of a ocean, and that's not even mentioning them getting trapped on an island that randomly raised up from underwater that had been abandoned for decades created by Ivor Shandor who worshipped Gozer. So what did he do or say that made everyone else think he'd gone insane?? All I can think is maybe he was acting strange / eratic before, but he's always been like that to some degree.
I don't know. It's something that I've been thinking about. The correct answer is 'it's not that deep and they needed a reason that the others weren't together anymore and weren't aware of Egons death or know what was going on,' but also. What Was He Saying that prompted everyone, including Ray, to think he lost his mind when he'd been right almost every time before that.
I'm genuinely so curious as to what he was up to before this. What was he doing. What insane idea was working on prior to this or was he even working on anything at all??
Also want to clarify this post isn't negative 😭 I really love the newer movies and their lore / the newer storyline / characters, I just like thinking about small stupid things like this. Gives me something to think about / speculate about / figure out an answer to.
#ghostbusters#egon spengler#nikolas posts#I have so many thoughts on it because I've just been rewatching the two movies on loop for the past few days.#All we got was Ray saying that he'd started talking about the end of the world (IIRC) and that he went insane and took everything#when he eventually left to deal with it on his own#which for the record it's extremely impressive that he would've stopped Gozer from returning BY HIMSELF. The only reason it hadn't worked#was because of the electricity issue#Hiding all the traps and setting up the proton packs to fire at the hell pit?? Insanity. He's just on a complete different level of existin#Like they were aware of Ivor Shandor and his plans long before??? They found his ISLAND DEDICATED TO GOZER who had full intention of#BRINGING THEM BACK#it's really Really REALLY not this deep but I have thoughts and I wanted to share them. Maybe someone else might have an idea I#couldn't think of or might have something to add.#I guess it could be a 'they beat Gozer once and assumed they were gone' but that wasn't the first time Gozer 'died' so??#if I missed something Please tell me. I haven't watched the newer movies as much as the older ones (I grew up watching them / playing#the game so I'm more familiar with the older lore and haven't had the chance to rewatch the newer ones 1000 times over unfortunately)#so it's entirely possible I missed something#I'd think maybe it was just because they were older but I really don't think thats the case. I have reasoning for it but I need to do#the math to make sure I'm getting the ages right by the time AfterLife happens.#really need to make a chart / timeline of all the events that happened and what year / month / day they happened. That's a project#for tomorrow perhaps.#anyways if anyones reading this sorry for the insane rambling and congrats for making it to the end#also this post isn't negative I adore the newer movies so much. I love them a lot and I genuinely don't really care about this at all#just a thing to think / ponder / speculate about if that makes sense#I enjoy thinking about stupid irrelevant stuff like this#so so so many thoughts
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luinhealthcare · 1 year ago
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Does Hyrule mind teaching how to assess a patient??👉👈
"You... want to learn how to assess patients?" Hyrule asked hesitantly.
Wild shrugged. "What if I want to be an EMT?"
"You also said you wanted to be a chef in the hospital."
"I can do both, you know."
Hyrule laughed. "I suppose so. Well... we'll need a patient for this to work."
Wild immediately snatched Sky, who yelped as his friend snaked a hand around his wrist. "Sky's the patient, heaven knows he needs to be looked over anyway."
"Look who's talking, Mr. I-Have-Seizures-and-Don't-Tell-Anybody," Sky grumbled as he was manhandled to sit between the other two.
"Well, everyone knows now."
Hyrule and Sky gave Wild a scalding look. Adequately apologetic, Wild shrugged sheepishly.
"Anyway," Hyrule sighed, shifting his focus to Sky. "Assessments come in different forms. You've got a primary and a secondary assessment. Primary is kind of a general overview and checking for life threatening stuff, secondary is in-depth on what the issue actually is. Make sense?"
Wild nodded.
"Great!" Hyrule continued with a smile. "Okay. Sky's our patient. Sky, you got shot once, right?"
Sky nodded, and Wild balked. "He what?!"
"It was a long time ago," Sky waved a dismissive hand.
"Okay, so that's our scenario," Hyrule said, standing. "We're dispatched for a 21-year-old male with a GSW--"
"That means gunshot wound, right?"
"Yeah. GSW, conscious patient. That's all we've got. So, you get on scene, and the very first thing you do is check for scene safety. If the scene isn't safe, we're not going in. First thing you're taught in EMS - your own safety comes first, because if you're shot you can't help the patient. It's you, your partner, then the patient."
"How often do you actually listen to that rule?" Sky asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That's not what we're learning today," Hyrule waved off easily. It was pretty common knowledge that while he would never put his partner's life at risk, he'd gotten himself into dicey situations before. But he knew how to get himself out of those situations too. "So, we determine the scene is safe. Next, is our primary assessment. The purpose of this assessment is to check for life threatening things, and an overview of major body systems. Neuro status, bleeding, and your ABCs: Airway, Breathing, Circulation.
"The situation is pretty dynamic, like sometimes you walk up and somebody's got an arterial bleed and spurting blood everywhere, your assessment stops right there and you go fix that bleed. But generally you'll have time to do the entire primary assessment."
"Okay, so neuro and ABCs?"
"Yeah. And the good thing is that most of it happens all at once, you know? You walk up to Sky and he looks at you, then boom, you've got a good neuro - he's awake, he's alert. He may not be oriented, but you can figure that out by just talking to him. And by this point you can tell if there's life threatening bleeding. Then it's ABCs - is his airway patent, or open? Is he breathing, and is he doing so normally? Is his skin warm, dry, and normal tone for him? You can literally do al these things by just walking into the room and looking at him for five seconds. The primary assessment is done really fast and, the more times you do it, basically automatically."
"What would be an example of something being wrong?" Wild askd.
Hyrule glanced at him. "When I got on scene for your crash, you were unconscious and unresponsive--in other words, you were not only unconscious, but nothing would wake you up--and your breathing was gurgling sounding because you had blood in your airway."
Glancing at Sky, Hyrule said, "Sky can give us an example of a not great primary assessment, I'm sure."
Helpfully, Sky immediately flopped off the chair he was sitting on, collapsing to the ground with a crash. Wild laughed, and footsteps rushed from upstairs into the living room.
Twilight immediately froze in the entranceway, eyes wide and fixed on Sky. "Sky, what the--guys what the hell is hap--"
Sky perked up immediately. "Oh, sorry! I'm just helping Hyrule teach Wild!"
Twilight froze a moment and then sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and grumbling under his breath.
Hyrule smiled, pointing at Twilight. "He just perfectly showed a good primary assessment looks like! He walked in and saw the patient down on the ground, tried to figure out a neuro by calling out to him, and when Sky woke up he immediately could tell he was fine. Neuro intact, not bleeding, had a patent airway because he's talking, breathing normally, and skin looks normal."
"I hate all of you," Twilight groaned, walking out of the room.
"Okay, but by skin looking normal... what does it mean when it doesn't?" Wild asked.
"Your skin can tell a story," Hyrule explained. "If you're diaphoretic, which means sweating, something is likely wrong. Though it depends on context - if your patient's sweaty but they were just exercising, it makes sense. If Sky's sweaty on the ground after being shot, he's in shock. If the skin is cool, the body isn't circulating well - that can sap the color right out of your skin - the lighter your skin tone the more notable it is, but darker skin tones can become paler too. A lot of times with darker skin tones you'll want to look at their palms or their lips, that'll help you determine it. Another color is grey - that usually means cardiac and it's bad. So skin can tell you a lot!"
"How did my skin look?" Wild questioned, curious.
"Pale," Hyrule immediately answered. "Anyway. Sky's your patient. Look him over."
"Okay," Wild blew out a breath, approaching Sky and kneeling beside him. "So he's unconscious, that's my neuro so far."
"Can you arouse him at all?"
Wild poked Sky in the neck. Sky flinched. Wild poked again and Sky giggled. Wild's eyes widened in realization, and a mischievous smile crossed his face.
"Wild, wait--"
Sky started laughing hysterically as his friend tickled him, wiggling and trying to shove him away.
"Get--off of m--Wild you jerk--"
Hyrule chuckled. "Well, we're not taught to tickle our patients, but that works."
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laidback-thrills · 1 year ago
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Uh, hello! Quick joke question for the AU; how does Jack feel about being orange and having his soul inside Dave?
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"If I took it back, maybe he'd leave me the hell alone."
The soul thing...is a very delicate issue. He has a very mixed opinion, to say the very least.
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p33p33p00p00 · 2 months ago
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ok ❀ yay ❀
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now. i know i shouldnt post all of these in one place. but! im balling
(btw images with writing in them have transcriptions in alt text)
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kimbapisnotsushi · 1 year ago
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oh please talk about kawanishi taichi i love that silly guy
OF COURSE ANON I TOO LOVE THAT SILLY GUY LET'S GET IT!!
(also i am SO sorry for taking so long oh my god i am back in action and catching up i promise!!)
i think he likes beanies in his casual wear
idk kawanishi feels like such a beanie person but not the douchebag slouchy ones he's got one that's a little snug and has something embroidered on it like a bird or something
okay that's a lie. he has ONE douchebag slouchy beanie that makes him look like how a high school romance shoujo mangaka of the mid-2000s would dress a flashy somewhat-delinquent teenage boy (honey lemon soda my beloved)
this, of course, could not be farther from the truth
the entire second year is scared of him bc they never somehow realize he's there until he says something and they're like "holy SHIT". this also means he knows a bunch of hot gossip
(the hot gossip miyagi group chat: kawanishi, watari, onagawa, and narita)
on the other hand. that means the students of 2-5 win the contest for "best cultural festival attraction" between classes bc they had the best haunted house the miyagi prefecture had ever seen
he's on really good terms with the school nurse because sometimes he sneaks into the infirmary to take naps during lunch or gym periods
knows how to lockpick BECAUSE he keeps trying to sneak into the infirmary. and occasionally the school roof for their "team bonding picnics" so that tendou doesn't have to keep swiping the key from the student council
i'm not just saying this bc i like enamel pins but i think kawanishi DOES like enamel pins. he's got a collection of these edgy sarcastic ones that he thinks are hilarious in a "started-ironically-and-now-i-can't-stop-pipeline" kind of way
he's got this whole tumblr-grunge-indie-hipster thing going on with his douchebag slouchy beanie and denim jacket with pins all over the collar and ripped jeans and converse sneakers and shirabu thinks he pulls it off unfairly well
i feel like kawanishi also really likes fantasy/sci-fi and is actually SUCH a huge secret nerd about it. and really likes cyberpunk and fantasyland settings you'd get from like idk snow white with the red hair or nivalis (i KNOW it's an indie game that's not even out yet but sue me i don't know cyberpunk all that well)
he and tsukki actually become friends while arguing about how much of akira is deep meaning and how much of it is actually just straight up bullshit because WHAT the fuck was that
also he's subscribed to a bunch of these small artists on youtube who make background music and fun art to go with them bc he can put together a great soundtrack for getting hw and studying done
likes getting lil gifts for shirabu, especially to add to his stationary collection. shirabu has sticky notes in the shape of whales and ice cream and paper lanterns and washi tape with fireworks and beach motifs and bakery stuff and it's all because of kawanishi
kawanishi just sticks to the plain solid-color square sticky notes that he uses to leave shirabu notes around his dorm. just small things, really, a reminder that this is a place shirabu belongs and it is a place he is loved. you're doing great. get some water soon. i'll bring you dinner, just text me. don't forget to sleep.
and shirabu will be hard pressed to admit it, but those might be his favorite sticky notes of all
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