#succeeded richard

[wonder-worker]

"It is too easy to dismiss [Leonor of Navarre] as an overambitious schemer who would do anything to obtain a crown, shedding the blood of her own siblings and her subjects in order to attain the throne. However, a deeper investigation of her long lieutenancy and ephemeral reign shows a woman who fought tenaciously to preserve her place but also worked tirelessly to administer a realm which was crippled by internal conflict and the center of the political schemes of France, Aragon, and Castile. She tried to broker peace, fight off those who opposed her, repair the wounds caused by conflict, protect the sovereignty of the realm, and keep the wheels of governance turning. Leonor was not always successful in achieving all of these aims but given the background of conflict and the lack of cooperation she received from all of her family members, bar her loyal husband, it is a huge achievement that she survived to wear the crown at all. Many writers have argued that Leonor deserved the troubled lieutenancy, personal tragedies, an ephemeral reign, and a blackened reputation, basing their assumption that she committed a crime that cannot be [conclusively] proven. However, a more fitting description of her would be that of a resolute ruler who successfully overcame a multitude of challenges in order to survive in a difficult political landscape and gain a hard-fought throne.”

-Elena Woodacre, "Leonor of Navarre: The Price of Ambition", Queenship, Gender and Reputation in the Medieval and Early Modern West, 1060-1600 (Edited by Zita Eva Rohr and Lisa Benz)

[rageclownz]

A bonding moment with the river.

(I wanted to draw Faulkner at peace. He may not deserve it, but I’ll give it to him anyway.)

Image description: a digital drawing of Brother Faulkner from The Silt Verses. He is a thin, slightly tanned man with brown wavy hair and freckles drawn in a cartoony style. He is standing facing the audience in hip-deep water with his hands dipping into the river. He is looking down with a slightly sad, peaceful expression. Faulkner is standing next to a sand bank. He is wearing a dark gray shirt and brown pants, both of which are damp from the river. The water is calm, and the sky is mostly clear with a few clouds.

@thesiltverses

[wordsoftheheartandsoul]

It's time to identify and embrace the power that is within you. You know the impact you have on others, the strength that shines through your character, and the talents that flow within you. Why do you ignore those truths and only choose to see what others have done or can possibly do? Why do you believe that everyone is capable of succeeding, striving, and overcoming, but when it comes to yourself, you are frozen with fear of rejection, failure, or embarrassment? This is your sign that it's time to level up. It's time to push forward in the direction of your purpose. It's time to ask God to order your steps and reveal all you need to know. You are powerful, you have purpose, and now is the time to make moves. Don't sit back any longer while questioning your abilities. It's time to walk in them.

Morgan Richard Olivier - One Still Whisper

[une-sanz-pluis]

I remember you saying that Margaret of Anjou only gained sympathy from historians in the 20th century, and even during the Tudor dynasty, they were still smearing her.

I have definitely said that, borrowing from a comment made by Katherine J. Lewis on this podcast where she talked about how efforts to canonise Henry VI and cast him as the Tudors' saintly ancestor and benefactor resulted in Margaret needing to be absorb the sins of his regime. Stories like Margaret's involvement in the plot against "Good Duke Humphrey" and her affair with the Duke of Suffolk only emerged in the Tudor era and culminated in Shakespeare's depiction of her in his Wars of the Roses plays (Henry VI, Parts 1, 2 and 3 and Richard III). Shakespeare's version has long shaped the "standard" view of Margaret but the moves to discount his take on the Wars of the Roses have never resulted in a reassessment of Margaret's character. His plays remains the most obvious sources for many of Margaret's "evil deeds" despite no historical precedent for them? For example, Margaret was never at the Battle of Wakefield but she's usually depicted as jubilantly ordering the heaping of indignities on Richard, Duke of York's corpse.

In brief: Margaret has served and still serves as the sin-eater for Henry VI and the Lancastrians (and, by extensions, the Beauforts and Tudors).

[windor-truffle]

*chants in increasing volume* ghost AU ghost AU GHOST AU GHOST AU

[diethrice]

i gave shan an obnoxious residency but i can't remember what

[confused-wanderer]

The biggest fuck you the bat kids can throw at Bruce is to appoint someone else as their father figure when they get mad at him.

Bruce doesn’t really care if they go to anyone else for help. It stings sure, but he trusts them. What he can’t handle is them going to someone for simple things like ice cream. Or movie night. Or quality time. That’s HIS job. You can partner with them, you better not try to parent them.

Once when kid Dick was pissed at Bruce for not allowing him to be violent towards a villain, he’d grabbed Superman’s hand and declared he wanted Uncle Clark to tend to his injuries and tuck him in bed.

The amount of jealousy and anger radiating off the Bat was so enormous Superman almost thought the man was about to stab him with a Kryptonite sword and couldn’t stop fearing for his life.

Then came Jason, and after getting mad at Bruce for not letting him buy five libraries, he finds Alfred and spends the day as his son, calling himself Jason Penyworth. When Tim came along, he was once fed up with Bruce’s antics and dragged Dick - who had just entered after a gruelling week - out of the mansion, declaring he wanted a different parental figure and insisted they get takeout and have an arcade night. Hell even when Stephanie stormed off and decided to crash at Barbara’s instead of the mansion, Oracle could’ve sworn that Bruce was pouting under his mask, silently sulking at his rejection.

And Damian, well Damian had heard stories of all of this happening, and although he wasn’t a child and refused to throw petty tantrums like the rest of the siblings, one day Bruce’s advice wears on his last nerve and he marches upto the figure reading a book on the other end of the room before demanding they go out to an art studio that day.

He grabs hold of the hand, hears him stuttering behind him but doesn’t pay any heed. Grayson wouldn’t mind after all. He was sure of it. They go outside, and Damian whirls around, about to declare that he wanted to go to the art gallery and spend the night somewhere other than the mansion when his eyes meet a pair of confused blue ones and the words die down in his throat.

He could feel the heat building on his face as he and Tim stared at each other for a few seconds.

It wasn’t his fault Drake and Grayson looked so damn similar! And Drake was sitting on Richard’s spot! Why was the failure doing that?? He knew it, he was trying to throw Damian off his hand and he’d succeeded! He was going to turn around, and hand Damian off to Bruce. Served him right for being so mindless.

Damian knows he should say something, but his mind was blank. He stuttered, furiously trying to think of an explanation before the other man chuckles and lets Kon know he won’t be available for the rest of the day.

[bailesona]

“  you  must  be  miss  stark,  right?  i’m  andrew,  we  haven’t  met  yet;  i’m  something  of  a  newbie  here.  “          although,  his  former  decision  to  say  as  little  as  humanly  possible  has  diluted  considerably  over  the  last  month.  call  it  what  you  will,  but  somehow,  the  freedom  here  in  this  unexpected  family  has  provided  him  with  a  new  lease  of  life.  he  goes  to  school  with  victor  and  tina.  he’s  made  friends  with  his  classmates.  he  helps  aisling  around  the  diner,  he  does  the  social  media  for  the  diner  with  eli.  richard  insists  on  bringing  him  out  to  the  lake  to  go  fishing  each  saturday.  somehow,  despite  it  all,  he  has  a  family.  a  home.  a  sense  of  belonging.  without  these,  he  wouldn’t  have  the  comfort  and  ease  of  self  to  be  able  to  politely  greet  THE  carter  stark  at  the  door.  he  extends  a  hand  to  shake  hers,  and  even  manages  a  small  smile,  concealing  that  brief  rise  in  anxiety  with  a  waving  gesture  to  come  in  from  the  cold.          “  would  you  like  a  drink?  we’re  a  little  low  on  ginger  ale,  but  aisling  went  to  the  grocery  store  to  pick  up  some  more;  and  henri  put  out  some  hors  d’oeuvres,  but  he’s  being  strangely  cryptic  about  whether  or  not  we’re  allowed  to  eat  them.  “

@starcchild​ liked THIS POST for a family holiday dinner starter!  ( and i’m gonna put the locations of all the other muses in the tags if u want carter to mingle!! )

[cutebat]

Alfred: "Master Bruce, I hate to say that you should lower your favoritism towards Miss Batgirl and focus more on your other children, which YOU decided to take in."

Bruce: "What do you mean, Alfred? You know I love them all equally."

Alfred: "Well... let me ask you this, Master Bruce. If either of them were in trouble, would you save one of the other children that YOU took in or the little girl you just met about a few weeks ago?"

Bruce: "Not this question again... Alfred, you know I have to save my little girl first."

Alfred: "And I fully understand that statement. However, did you ever consider saving about the others?"

Bruce: "Well, they were all greatly trained from me and the outside world, so I don't see the reason why I need to save them."

Alfred: "Master Bruce, Miss Batgirl has been living under the roof of the League of Assassins for half of her childhood and was raised and trained under the wing of the world's deadliest martial artist and partial from one of your greatest enemies. So, why do YOU need to save only her?"

Bruce: "She's way too young and inexperienced in training. That's why I need to protect her."

Alfred: "Then, what is the point of her being the new Batgirl, Master Bruce?"

Bruce: "Because she wanted to, and I'll do anything to fulfill her wishes. Now, if you excuse me, Alfred, I need to take my daughter to Build a Bear to pick out her present for succeeding her mission earlier."

Later that day

Dick: "Did you get the answer? Like, his honest answer?"

Alfred: "... I will not comment on that, Master Richard."

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 5

There were two new arrivals to the dining room. Both with black hair but one of them had an odd white stripe, the stripe reminded him of his hair in ghost form. 

The one without the stripe sat next to Tim and the other one sat next to Danny. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said they looked identical,” the guy without the stripe said, “Names Richard Greyson, but you can call me Dick”

Dick had a bright smile on his face, it was clear he was a morning person. 

Damian made another ‘Tt’ noise at his introduction. 

The guy with the stripe in his hair grunted in agreement before holding out a coffee mug for Alfred, who was already standing next to him ready to pour. He took a swig before speaking, “Names Jason, you may look alike but seeing Damian eat meat, even from an alternate universe is weird.”

Danny took a bite of his bacon and swallowed like he was making a point before speaking, “I go by Danny, I faked my death years ago, as far as I’m concerned we were all strangers in my world.” He started, he took a moment to think about exactly how’d he explain everything. He knew it wasn’t exactly a pretty story but he also knew from the stories Talia told him when he was younger that Bruce was all about planning ahead, so keeping information from  him might not be the best way to go about all of this. 

He took another bite and swallowed before speaking again, “My foster family is fine though, I have a roof over my head and food. They spend most of their time in their lab working. They study Ectology, or the study of ghosts.” Jason raised an eyebrow at this but didn’t say anything. Danny continued, “They actually succeeded in building a portal to their realm, the realm of ghosts, or Infinite Realm as we call it.”

“We? You say that like you're one of the ghosts” Tim asked laughing a little bit.

He quickly got silent when Danny wasn’t laughing with him.

Damian made another ‘Tt’ noise before speaking, “Clearly this imposter has lost it, ghosts don’t exist and all of this nonsense is just that nonsense.” He glared at Danny.

Danny smiled at him and it caused Damian to falter a little before he glared at Danny again.

“Yes, Ghosts are real,” Danny sighed before continuing, “Trust me, it sounds crazy but I’ve seen some crazy things in my world. Although now I’m wondering if just showing you guys would be easier… Alright I’ll show you all but know that no one except my sister knows. Secret identity and all.”

“Wait,” Dick interrupted, “Does Robin not exist in your world?”

“Robin existed but there hasn’t been a Robin since Joker murdered the last one.” Danny answered. 

Everyone fell silent at that and the atmosphere got heavy. Everyone, especially Jason was giving each other knowing glances.

Danny cleared his throat before continuing, “Anyways, yes ghosts exist, unfortunately the portal in this world probably doesn’t work like my own world. It’s been about a year since I turned it on and since I was here in Gotham when they tried it in this world there’s no telling what they did after it didn’t work. Actually now that I think about it, I wonder if they exist here,” he thought about the GIW in his world and it occurred to him. If ghosts weren’t running rampant in Amity Park, they probably didn’t exist here.

He brought out his phone from his pocket and looked it up. His eyes lit up a bit at the information he found. Or more accurately the information he didn’t find. Searching GIW in this world brought zero results, so great he wouldn’t be hunted for existing here. 

He let out a sigh of relief at this. He turned to everyone and they were watching him closely. He gave them a small smile, “It’s been a while since I had a moment where I didn’t have to worry about being hunted for existing.” He explained. He figured he might as well get the conversation out of the way no matter how difficult it was. 

Everyone at the table was silent as they waited for him to continue. The tension was thick in the air however, you could tell that even though Danny had just arrived everyone was ready to jump to defend him, even if he wasn’t their Damian he was still part of the family even if he had just arrived into their lives. It cemented Danny’s determination to tell them the truth.

He took a deep breath and then spoke again, “The portal didn’t work at first when they tried it, I of course wanted to help so when they were away I went in to see if I could figure out the problem… Long story short, it helps to build the on switch on the outside of the portal. I’m not proud to admit that even with all of my training, there were just too many cords that even I tripped.” He didn’t have to say much else about that as their faces told him they understood what happened. He gave a dark chuckle and continued, “Yeah hurt like hell but I don’t have to worry about losing anything anymore.” He then took his phone and phased it into his chest.

The room went silent again for a moment, but it was broken by Jason who started cackling. 

He wheezed for a moment before he got out, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t ready for not Damian to make a fucking pun!”

Meanwhile everyone else was still too stunned to speak. Finally Damian surprisingly spoke, “What else can you do?”

Danny smiled, this was going to be fun.

Master Post:

Last:

[idlesuperstar]

Donald was the best partner in movies I ever had. We were brothers and we loved each other. We had such a deep, sublime chemistry. There was nothing intellectual about it, just this amazing natural harmony. I first met him in the commissary at 20th Century Fox when Robert Altman told us to have lunch together after I’d been cast in M*A*S*H. At first I thought: I don’t think this guy likes me. But it was just the opposite. The thing was: we were such opposites. I’m a Jew from Brooklyn and he was a Canadian from Nova Scotia. But it was perfection: never any conflict, just bread and butter – a relationship that felt like a miracle. Making M*A*S*H made us immediately close because while everyone else was working with Bob Altman, we worked for Bob Altman. He kept us a little segregated. We were both really unsure about the improvisation, the direction of the movie and Bob’s approach in general. Donald was hired well before me, but once I signed on we had the same deal: no less than second billing, and the same money. Later in production, Richard Zanuck, who was at that time running 20th Century Fox, said they wanted to give me first billing. I thought: “Oh that’s a nice honour. But Donald is my friend! I’m not going to be opportunistic – he was here first and should have first billing and I’ll stay in second place.” That’s what Donald meant to me. I never told him about that. A few years later, I turned down the screenplay for the movie that became S*P*Y*S, about two bumbling CIA agents. Then Donald called and said: “Would you do it with me?” And I said: “Oh that’s a different story. Of course!” On the first day of shooting in London, we drove to work together and he said: “What do you think of the script?” I rolled the window down, threw it out and said: “It’s a piece of junk. The only way this will work is if we swap parts.” But the producers could not digest that, so we just did the picture. Yet we did bring some of our own ideas to the table. There wasn’t an ending, for instance - so Donald and I agreed that we would just walk up the road with our backs to the camera and sing Side By Side. We worked together and we succeeded together, but we didn’t socialise very much – though having the opportunity to develop a relationship with some of his family was a total joy. Once, Donald was making a movie in the Bahamas and I came to visit because I had a week off from making The Long Goodbye and was interested in his leading lady, Jennifer O’Neill. Kiefer, his son, was five or six and Donald introduced us. Kiefer wanted me to stay, so when I said goodbye, I said: “Kiss me, Kiefer.” He had an ice cream cone in his hand and put it on my face – he kissed me with his cone. Donald was a true human being – and not all of us are. He could identify with any of us. His presence and his nature, his life and his mind are an asset for everyone. We all come and go physically, but as a being, he was really special and unique. I don’t put anything in the past. With me, it’s all in the present. My feeling is that for as long as I am living, Donald will be with me. I have no doubt about that, and I’m not being sentimental. I can see Donald now. I will see Donald for ever.

Elliot Gould - Donald Sutherland remembered by Keira Knightley, Elliott Gould, Ralph Fiennes and more in The Guardian

[on-the-clear-blue]

Not DDD but some tooth rotting fluff with Dadwing that I had written a while ago.

Dick had always had a kinda 6th sense when it came to Damian, they had been Batman and Robin together, *the* dynamic duo! So he knew when his little brother was upset, more so than usual.

It started after a failed capture, the Riddler had been out of Arkham for over 3 weeks, the longest that he had been out for quite some time.

Bruce had finally found Eddie's hiding spot and was staking him out for some time, trying to determine whether the Riddler was truly there or this was once again a decoy safe house.

Bruce regretfully has the communication skills of a particularly grumpy slug and failed to properly give Damian the brief on what he was doing after joining his father from a round of patrols with Dick.

It really truly wasn't Damian's fault that he rushed in and only really succeeded in flushing out the Riddler and driving him to ground once more.

And once again, Bruce the grumpy slug scowled, let out a grunt and demanded Damian back to the cave, further not explaining why Bruce tried to stop him from taking down the Riddler and why he didn't pursue.

---

Dick was surprised to come out of the locker rooms of the cave to his youngest brother, practically shaking with rage as he not so carefully pulled off his suit, and what was the most concerning to Dick was the quiet, but still angry mutterings coming from the boy.

Dick felt a pang in his chest at the words, his Arabic was not the best but he could tell more than a few foul words slipping from Damians lips, taking a small breath to prepare, Dick slowly approached his little brother, holding his hands up in surrender even before speaking.

"Hey Babybat? Dami? You okay kiddo? What are you-" Dick stopped mid sentence at the scathing glare that was leveled at him, blinking a few times as his brother collected himself enough to speak clearly, but his voice was rough with emotion, and his accent that was usually hidden away came back harder. (Something that Dick realized that Jason and Damian shared, the angrier they are the more they go back to their roots.)

"Do not attempt to placate me Richard, I am not playing your foolish games nor am I wanting to speak of my feelings, so I simply ask you to leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone." At the end the boys words were ground out as he threw down the Robin chest plate and stromed past Dick, heading to the showers.

---

Dick knew it was a little bit risky, but something was clearly upsetting his little brother greatly, so here he was, standing outside of Damians room, letting out a small sigh, Dick softly knocked on the door.

Two short, one long: U

Three long: O

One long, one short, one long: K

Morse code, one of the first no vocal languages that all the birds and the Bats knew, Dick and Damian had used it more than a few times on the field.

The only thing that Dick received from that was a dull thud of something being thrown at the door and the much softer sound of it falling to the floor, but the rest of the room was an inky black.

Letting out a sigh, the oldest of the Wayne children grabbed onto the doorhandle and slowly turning it, pushing the door in as he popped his head in, seeing the sacrificed plush animal laying on the ground where it was thrown

Dick felt guilty being glad it wasn't a knife.

"Dami? Little D? Kiddo I am going to come in..."

Opening the door more, Dick slipped into the dark room, spacial awareness helped Dick circumvent the few basic traps laid around his little brothers room, and made his way over to the boy's bed.

Eyes adjusting to the dark quickly, Dick could see the small outline of his brother shaking under the covers, looking so small in the king-sized bed, sitting on the edge, Dick laid a hand on where he thinks Damians hip is, feeling his heart break a little at the small jump he felt as he did.

"Can you talk to me? Please? I want to help kiddo." The only response he got was a shaky drawn in breath and the form under the blankets shifting, sitting up and revealing his younger brother.

His jade green eyes practically glowed in the dark of the room, Damians glare more tired than angry.

(It was times like these that Dick had to force himself to believe that Damian was just his brother, that the boy was not his son, wasn't the boy he raised for a year and a half as his own)

Shuffling closer to the center of the bed, Dick softly placed his forehead on the boy's own before pulling back after a second, he had learnt that little touches of affection got him a lot farther (and a lot less stabbed) with Damian.

Sitting back Dick watched as Damian crawled over, closing the distance between them and leaned his head onto Dicks shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed as he took in several deep breaths, calming himself even further.

Dick didn't dare move while Damian re-centered only snaking his arms around the smaller boy once he felt Damian go slack against him, softly cradling Damian in his arms as he pressed a soft kiss to the boy's spiky locks.

They stayed that way for a while, Dick gently rocking them both as he held his younger brother, silently waiting for Damian to speak first.

"...Father is an idiot..."

Blinking at the words that finally came out, Dick took it in stride, "For a man that is called the worlds greatest detective he can't see two feet in front of him when his loved ones are involved."

Silence lapsed after a little while, only breaking again as Damian pulled back from the hug, staring into Dicks powder blue eyes,

"...is it bad that some days I hate him Baba?" The words crush him, hitting at Dicks heart far worse than anything he had felt before, throat raw and itchy suddenly, Dick tried to not let Damians choice of words affect him.

(Dick has never heard Dami call Bruce Baba, only a ever respectful Father.)

"I-I, Um...I have felt way about B more than a few times Dames...He tries his best but sometimes...some times I do" There was a shine to Damians eyes as he looked into Dicks as the man continued softly "But I don't think it's bad...no I think you are just growing up...It...it's the beginning to when your seeing B how he can truly be like." (A scornful son of a bitch, only that Martha was a wonderful woman...)

Damians face grew distraught, and the shine pooled until soft tears ran down the boys face, "I do not wish to hate Father, but why can he simply not...speak to me? He has not spoke to me outside of case work for over three days and even during that no more than a few words..." leaning his head against Dicks shoulder, the boy's words were muffled slightly as he continued

"Is...is it wrong to expect more from him Baba?"

Dick didn't have any words for his Damian, because he sure as shit isn't Bruce's at the moment, sweeping the boy up into his arms, Dick hled him close while laying the two of them down, Dick on his back and his boy on his chest.

Running a hand through Damians soft hair, Dick thought hard of what to say, "I will speak to him...and maybe Tim...I know you two still have disagreements but honestly for some reason he listens to Tim more than even Alfred...you deserve so much more than that kiddo..."

Dick felt the soft shakes as Damian cried ontop of him, it broke the man's heart to smithereens that even while overwhelmed by emotions his boy still felt the need to try and be as quiet as possible.

Once he felt Damians shudders slow, an the boys breathing came back to a normal rate, Dick reached into his pants and pulled out his phone, "I think we both gotta unwind a little bud...have I ever shown you Bob Ross?"

---

(They watch till the sun peaks through the black out curtains, well, it plays that long, but the two where asleep for a lot longer than that.)

(Bruce gets a very long talking too by his kids, and gets the cowl taken away from him until he gets therapy)

(It only works a little.)

(He made a new one)

[probablyasocialecologist]

Many on the right have sought to depict the protesters as extremists, but the sheer scale and regularity of the protests and actions are in fact a sign of how mainstream pro-Palestinian feeling is within British society. The question, assuming the movement succeeds in ending the Israeli assault, is where does it go next? What becomes of movements when they stop moving? Traditionally, social movements went through phases of emergence, coalescence, institutionalisation and decline, followed by dissipation and co-optation by mainstream parties. This usually took decades, the classic case being the US civil rights movement. Yet the era since “Occupy Wall Street” in 2011 has been one of so-called “flash movements”. From Black Lives Matter to the gilets jaunes, movements have coalesced around hashtagged slogans with astonishing celerity, producing deep political crises – and then subsiding. The Gaza campaign resembles a flash movement. It didn’t come out of nowhere. Palestine has been a cause of the international left since the six-day war in 1967, and the UK has seen repeated protests over Israel’s flattening of the West Bank, invasion of Lebanon and serial bombardments of Gaza. There is a network of organisations doing the groundwork, such as the Palestine Solidarity Campaign and Stop the War. But the turnout for these protests shows the virtues of the flash movement: it can rapidly mobilise masses of people, tolerate a diversity of tactics and keep focus on a simple, morally obvious demand. In many respects, it is succeeding. In the UK, despite efforts to demonise the protests as “hate marches”, and the then home secretary Suella Braverman’s inept provocation of the far right against the protests, the demonstrations brought up to 800,000 people to the streets on 11 November. This was the largest such demonstration since the invasion of Iraq. Nor was the UK alone. There have been mass protests everywhere from Tokyo and Kerala to Cairo, Washington DC and Rio de Janeiro. In France and Berlin, protesters have defied official bans. In the US, the Jewish left has led the movement and often engaged in the most militant tactics,including blockading Manhattan Bridge. The embattled Israeli left has also staged protests, despite a climate of police repression and mob violence. The movement has done what successful movements do: win over public opinion, catalyse cracks in elite consensus and expose divisions in the state. These splits were visible in the form of staffer dissent in the US state department, frontbench resignations in Labour over Keir Starmer’s refusal to support a ceasefire, protests by Dutch civil servants and EU employees, Macron’s ceasefire demand, and recently the call from Canada, Australia and New Zealand, three of the Five Eyes intelligence-sharing coalition countries, for an “immediate humanitarian ceasefire”. Only the US now vetoes UN ceasefire resolutions.

[igotanidea]

Single parent struggles : father!Dick Grayson x mother!reader

THAT!!! PICTURE!!!!!

summary/request: single Father Dick Grayson x single Mother reader? Where at some kids birthday party also can the kids be between the ages of like 3 and 4.

A/N: writing this was just so cute and heartwarming and pleasant and fluffy. I think this is going to be my new verse, so if anyone ever get any ideas in that - please ask me to write more UwU <3

***

„Thomas, please stop running around!” Y/N laughed happily when her 4 year old son slipped on the floor and run into her legs. She was quick enough to catch him, before he actually landed on his bottom and started crying.

“Sorry mum!” he grinned with the cutest smile there was, and not paying much attention to his mother’s admonishment regained his balance and followed the friends that he was chasing. “Wait for me!” he yelled before disappearing.

Her son was invited to a birthday party of his kindergarten friend, and obviously, she happened to be a tag along. Helping with the service and acting as a supervisor.  Not that  she complained. Being a single parent was rewarding, but also happened to be her bread and butter and she didn’t have many occasion to go out the house and spend time with actual adult outside of work. Sure, she loved Thomas with all her heart and never regretted the decision of having him, even when his failure of a father took off running the second he found out about the pregnancy, but sometimes she was just tired. And having an opportunity to hang out and relax and watch her son being so happy around other kids were simply heartwarming. Thomas shed too many tears and experienced sadness asking about the other parent and Y/N swore, that to the maximum of her  abilities, she would protect him from that pain.

“God….” she muttered to herself, gathering the fruit bowl from the counter. “I swear the kids never get tired……” her son’s energy was exhausting, but the serene expression in her eyes were showing the truth feelings behind the sigh. Lost in her own thoughts Y/N turned around not noticing the man standing right behind her, bumping straight into the sculpted chest, immediately being caught by two strong arms, the bowl serving as some sort of airbag.

“I know, right?” the man let out a laugh still holding onto her “I’m dealing with the same problem with my daughter. Don’t know who said that girls are quieter and more polite than boys but it does not apply in this case.”

“Hello Richard.” Y/N tilted her head “didn’t see you around for a while.”

Richard Grayson, more often than not called “Dick” was the treat for all the mothers. Handsome, well-build, kind with charming, boyish attitude and most importantly, single father. Rumor has it that the mother had some mental problems and one day escaped the hospital where she and the daughter were getting some treatment and observation, took the kid and left it on the threshold of Dick’s house before disappearing herself. Despite Dick’s attempt to locate her (and boy, that man definitely had the resources, being the son of the Bruce Wayne) he never succeeded, giving up after some time.

And that gave the soccer mothers plenty of opportunities to get him involved in all possible kids’ activities. Kindergarten play? Picnic? Cinema sally? Birthday party? He was pretty much everywhere. Much to all the husbands’ displeasure.

But, since both he and Y/N were the only single parent and  the subjects of many rumors that gave them the opportunity to get close and become really good friends. After all, there’s no one better to understand the struggles of raising a kid alone.

“Yeah….” He scratched his head awkwardly, letting go of her arm “I’ve been running after Abby, making sure she does not get in any troubles. But it seems like the fire is fought for a moment and I can finally catch a breath. “

“Really?” Y/N mocked putting the bowl away, crossing arms over her chest “guess the apple does not fall far from the tree, right? Abby takes a lot after you.”

“Are you calling me a troublemaker?” Dick caught his chest and his eyes widened in a fake shock. “Me?”

“Yes.” She teased “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a bit” he muttered taking a step forward. This made Y/N take a step back and in no time she was trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “But there’s one more thing me and Abby have in common.”

“And what may that be, Mr. Grayson?” she raised an eyebrow, observing his face carefully and impatiently awaiting the answer.

“We both happen to like the member of the l/n family.” He smirked, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards him closing the distance between them.  Her hands found a way towards his neck, locking around it and bringing his lips down for a kiss. It’s been a while since they had any opportunity to be alone, and they were not going to miss it. Even if that meant making out in a messy kitchen in someone else’s house, hiding from their kids. They were acting like teenagers, sneaking around and trying to keep their relationship a secret. And despite the fact that they were both adults this courtship was gentle, careful, soft. They have been hurt before and the cautiousness was making them both take it slow.

But obviously it didn’t mean that there was no passion between them when Dick grabbed onto her tighter, wanting her closer, his hands travelling around her back, sneaking under her shirt, craving to feel her skin, but still keeping the slow, loving pace.

“Behave….” She mumbled into the kiss, but not really stopping him. “Someone can see us…..”

“Oh, please…” he fought the urge to roll his eyes, moving to brush her cheek, jaw and neck in the teasing attempt to make her whine for him  “you can’t keep your hands to yourself either.” The bastard was right since her fingers were playing with his hair, pulling lightly.

“I can stop….” She started withdrawing her hands but he was quick to grab her wrist keeping it in place.

“Don’t.” his soft whispers and touches were literally making her melt. “I missed you, Y/n. I missed this…. us……” God, how she loved his attention, even when he pulled back and stopped kissing her, instead looking her straight in the eyes. “I .... wish to have more of you just for myself…..”

“I know. I feel the same.”  She smiled and her eyes glistened. Before she met him, after Thomas’s father left, she didn’t believe she could find love again. But life can be surprising and even if they haven’t really said the L word to each other,now she was trapped in the arms of a man who did love her with the undying passion and with whom she felt save and taken care of us as never before. And every time they stole a kiss or a secret touch or just talked or spent time together she felt like crying because of that warm feeling inside her chest and belly. This time was no different as  few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Crying again?” Dick cupped her face, brushing those drops away with his thumb “don’t cry on my account princess.” He brushed his nose over hers, forehead meeting forehead, eyes closing, breathing each other in.

“How can I not?” she sighed deeply, unable to hold back everything he was making her feel. “Dick, I….”

“I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, rocking her gently to the sound of music coming from the garden causing her to smile again.  

He knew.

He knew the heartbreak, the pain, the unanswered question why. He’s been through it all. And it was not his intention to play around with Y/n’s emotions and feelings or to hurt her. Ever. Not with everything she’s been through.

“I’m not like him…..” he whispered, almost inaudibly and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.

“How long do you think since one of the mums start looking for you to move the chairs or ask for another stupid favor?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Are you jealous?”

“And what if I am?” she twirled a strand of hair on her finger, eyes fixed on his.

“Well, than I’m flattered, but you have no reason for that, baby.” His hands intertwined with hers, caressing tenderly “I lo…..” he almost said it. Almost.

“Daddy?” a quiet, girl’s voice cut him off and it took massive amount of energy to muffle the annoyed groan. Of course it was kids who interrupted him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he pulled back

“I cut my finger….” Abby pouted, her gaze switching between her father and Y/N. “what are you doing?”

“We were just getting some fruits for you.” the older girl smiled “I’m gonna go and let your father take care of you, little one. See you around, Richard.” She moved away from him and with one final lingering secret brush of hands left him, still aching for her, not able to ever get enough of her presence.

“Daddy?” Abby asked again once Y/N was out of sight.

“Yes?”

“Do you like Thomas’s mum?”

“Do you?”

“She’s nice and pretty. And gives the best hugs. “ the girl frowned, thinking deeply “so yes, I think I like her.”

“That’s good to know.” Dick smiled pecking the top of Abby’s head.  He was not going to let this woman out of his life and his daughter’s acceptance was very important for the future purposes.

[windor-truffle]

wait it only just occurred to me but Aston's death was caused by Fendel, right, and was not related to Cedric's uprising? From everything I've played and remember, he was killed some time prior, he fell in battle to unnamed and unknown Fendel soldiers. I'm fairly certain that's canon, but now the missed opportunity is kinda nagging at me. Imagine if Cedric and Garrett Oswell had planned to assassinate him in order destabilize Lhant and make it easier for Strahta's military to swoop to the rescue. Imagine if Asbel found out, and both he AND Richard shared a grudge against the man whom orchestrated the murder of both of their fathers. I still don't think Asbel would condone Richard's vengeance methods, but that line about his father's spirit finally being able to rest in peace would hit twice as hard and give Asbel more internal conflict over whether Richard's really in the wrong, because isn't that also what Asbel wanted?? I swear this isn't canon but it fits so well I'm geniunely gaslighting myself into thinking I missed it 😅

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Promot 18 and 9 for johnny storm please

.⋆｡On Fire｡⋆.

Johnny Storm x plus size reader

Johnny is ok at being a hero, he’s good at extreme sports and he’s a god at sex, but feelings- he can’t do those

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, FWB to lovers, angst, shower sex, Johnny’s a bit of an asshole, I accidentally wrote Johnny as an American Jamie Tartt and I can’t find myself getting mad at it, fluff

WC: 1.2k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

3000 Follower Celebration

“Holy fuck this pussy is goddamn magical.” Johnny groaned into your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your delicate skin. Cold water rolled down your body, the hot water having long been used up. His thick cock buried to the hilt inside you, his hands firmly planted on your wide hips as he drove into you.

“Johnny I love you.” You moaned. Your back arched as yet another orgasm began to build in your stomach. You reached back for him but only succeeded in skimming his abs with the tips of your fingers. He retaliated by punching into your cunt even harder, forcing your naked chest into the chilled shower tiles and away from him.

“Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned through gritted teeth. Heat began to grow behind you and Johnny’s cock somehow got even hotter inside of you. His right hand released your hip and captured your clit between his fingers, strumming you desperately to your end. “Fuck!”

Heat exploded deep within you and drove you over the edge. “God baby.” You moaned and slumped forward, letting your body relax underneath the cool spray of water.

“Damn baby, that was a good one.” Johnny slapped your plump ass in a friendly manor and pulled out of you. 

You winced at the feel of his release escaping you as you stood up straight, letting the water wash your previous activities away. “Yeah it was.” You dismissed. Johnny raised a brow at you as you walked past him, grabbing one of his very expensive white towels on the way out. 

“Where are you off to? Got some hot date?” He teased, trailing behind you. You didn’t even glance at him while you grabbed your clothes.

“No but you do. Diamond has been dying to finally get under you.” You sneered her name as you pulled on your panties. He scoffed.

“So what, it’s not like I’m actually dating you.” You froze, your stomach dropping.

“Yeah, I know.” You slipped on your sweater and grabbed the rest of your things. “Goodbye Johnny.” And this time, your goodbye actually sounded real.

——————

Johnny stared at his phone like it had offended him. “What’s up your ass today?” Ben planted himself in his reinforced chair across from the younger man, coffee cup in hand. Johnny just glared at him.

“Y/N’s been ignoring him for a week now.” Sue sat next to her little brother, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“What did you do?” A murderous gaze levelled at him.

“I didn’t do anything!” Johnny retorted with a whine. A notification lit up his phone and he immediately abandoned the conversation in favour of grabbing his phone. He let out a sigh of disappointment, it was just a message from yet another one night stand.

Even without eyebrows, Ben’s brow raised. Johnny crumpled. “I didn’t do anything.” He muttered almost shamefully. “She just left my place the other day and hasn’t called me back even though I’ve texted her like 20 times! That’s 19 more times than I usually do!”

Richard suddenly appeared behind his wife. “And we ask again, what did you ‘not’ do?” 

Johnny sighed heavily and slumped over the table. He propped his chin up on the counter, staring off into nothing. “I thought she didn’t mean it, I mean I was in the middle of blowing her back out!” The others winced but he continued. “She said she loved me.”

“And did you say it back?” Sue asked. The silence was all the answers they needed.

“And you’re still seeing other people?” Again there was silence but he nodded.

“And is she?” He shook his head.

“You’re a fucking idiot and you most definitely do not deserve a good woman like that.” Ben slammed his palm on the table, shaking the ground with the force. “Absolute piece of shit, can’t believe how stupid he is.” Ben muttered as he walked away.

Sue and Richard watched him go before turning back to the youngest member of the group. “Johnny, you know what she’s ignoring you. You broke her heart and I think it’s now breaking yours.” She squeezed her brother’s shoulder. “And I agree with Ben, you kind of deserve it.”

“But, maybe you can fix this.” Richard spoke up. “It’s never too late if you really do love her.”

Johnny glanced at his brother-in-law sceptically. “But I don’t love her. I mean I guess I like having her around. She’s incredible in bed and she makes these pancakes that are out of this world. And when she sleeps next to me, I sleep better than I ever have. And when she smiles at me, I get this weird feeling in my stomach. And sometimes when I’m out shopping I look at rings. But that means nothing!” He paused and looked at Sue. “Right?”

She just looked at him, her eyes softening. “Right?”

Sue laid a kiss to the side of his head. “I think you know the answer to that already.”

——————

The bottle of red was halfway gone when the knock on your door came. You groaned and forced yourself up from your extremely comfortable couch, stumbling only once as you made your way to the door.

“What are you doing here?” The one and only Johnny Storm stood on your doorstep looking like a lost puppy.

He looked at you with those huge blue eyes that had made you fall into his bed more times than you could count. “I was an asshole.”

“Yes you were.”

“And I shouldn’t have ignored your feelings like that.”

“Correct.”

“And I shouldn’t have let you walk out that door because you are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry and that I- shit c’mon. I looo- I can’t say it but you know what I mean.” You raised an eyebrow at him causing Johnny to sigh.

“Ok well I can’t say that but I do feel it. You’re absolutely amazing and a complete bombshell. And when I’m around you, I can be myself, not Johnny Storm, not the Human Torch, just me. You have been by my side through so much, even before we started sleeping together, which was a great decision by the way cause we are fucking awesome at sex.” You couldn’t help but smile and agree with the sentiment. “You’re my person, you are my home, you always have been. So yeah, there’s that.”

He shrugged almost sadly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “This doesn’t fix everything, you know that right?” His shoulder’s fell along with his expression.

“But what you said does mean a lot to me, so you can come in if you want to but you stay at least five feet away from me at all times. You have a lot of grovelling to do before you’re allowed back in.” You emphasised. Johnny perked up and bounced up the steps, giving you a peck on the cheek as he passed. You allowed the affection and slipped in behind him, a little smile on your face.

Johnny was buried between your thighs barely 15 minutes later.

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