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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 11 months ago

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Ask me about my sins (and I'll tell you about my love)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.8k

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: the initial awkwardness of enemies to lovers who have JUST moved on to the lovers stage, there's a lil jealousy but it's smoothed over pretty easily

a/n: this is a bit of a longer one but whatever I hope y'all like it <3

The galas Bruce Wayne holds may have become a normal occurrence for Damian, but the thought of them and everything they entail still makes something uneasy stir in your gut. Damian assures you that it's fine - that it's understandable. He stares intently in the mirror, straightening his suit as he speaks soothing words.

"You haven't been in Gotham for very long," he says. "No one expects you to adjust to life here immediately… and no one will demand you do anything you're not comfortable with. Ever. If you never go to one of these galas, that's fine with me."

You stare at the pattern of the wood floor in Damian's room, your hands bunching the covers of his bed where you sit as he moves to stand in front of you. He doesn't touch you - he's not sure enough, yet. This newfound peace between the two of you is still so fragile and neither of you know exactly how to navigate it yet. It pains him, though - he often finds himself wishing he could reach out, wishing there was something he could do to bridge the gap between the two of you.

"You've adapted to life outside of the League very well," you say quietly, a sharpness coating your words. There's an accusation there somewhere, maybe born of jealousy, maybe born of fear. Damian doesn't take the bait, though - another indicator of the ways in which he's grown since coming here. Another moment that leaves a bitterness on your tongue.

"No," he responds simply. "It's just that the years I spent learning this new life, you were… still back there. You knew me in the League and you know me now. There was an in-between that you just didn't see."

You don't respond to his words, a swirling sort of panic rising in your chest at the reminder that there was so much of him that you missed, so much of his life that you were so far away for. Damian kneels in front of you, tilting his head to lock his eyes with yours, a gentle love shining in his irises that makes you wish you could run away - again.

"Please be here tonight when I get back?" he asks softly. "We can talk more about this then." You nod at his words and he reaches out slowly, taking your hand in his and pressing a series of delicate kisses to your knuckles. There are words neither of you can say yet, bridges neither of you are ready to cross, but he hopes - every day he hopes that you know how much he loves you. And every day you pray he can see how much you love him back.

Having spent his whole life circling you and watching you circle back, it's almost second nature for Damian, now, to check for you. No one else is aware of your presence, too focused on the press and the dresses and the endless champagne that comes with these events - not that any of them could find you if they tried, Damian thinks smugly. He knows, of course. He always knows. The flicker of a shadow seen through a window, a rustle on the balcony near him, the ever-present feeling of eyes on him.

Damian doesn't mind, he realizes. He takes no issue with your hawk-like gaze trained on him from a vantage point no one else can find. In a way, it makes him feel better. You're not here, in front of him, where he can keep you safe - but if you're around, then you must be okay. It soothes something in him - something new and foreign that pleads with him and demands he take care of you. It's an unfamiliar feeling, one that trips him up and knocks him off balance. He has a hard time placing the moment he stopped being possessive of you as his enemy and started becoming protective of you as his… well, he doesn't even really know yet.

He does mind when a girl his age bumps into him at the gala, a glass of something sparkling in her hand as she giggles and promises that it was an accident, her hand finding itself placed on his chest. And he minds even more when, amidst his attempts to escape the sudden intrusion on his train of thought he suddenly… can't find you or feel you anywhere. He removes the girl's hands quickly, excusing himself and slipping out, away from the noise and the politeness and the showiness of it all.

"You cut your party short," you say quietly, not turning to look at where Damian's climbed onto the roof of the Manor behind you, dress shirt ruffled and jacket unbuttoned. You don't need to turn to know he's there, silent as he is. You always know.

"It's not my party. I made my appearance," he shrugs, sitting down next to you and staring at you intently. You keep your gaze trained up, staring at the night sky as you sit stiffly, back straight and shoulders back.

"She means nothing to me," Damian says firmly when you remain silent. You tense at his words. "I don't even know who she was."

"...It's fine," you say stubbornly. Damian sighs. Silence covers the two of you, the weight of it bearing down on the uneasiness - the stubbornness and the frustration of you both. Damian shifts, finding himself unsure, once again. You had always been better at this than him - always been more sure of yourself when it came to mind games. He finds himself wishing suddenly that he had a sword in his hands - it was always easier to fight you like that.

"You're… jealous," he says slowly, like he's trying to figure out where you stand in the situation. You snap your head around to look at him and he winces internally. Wrong guess, he thinks.

"I'm not," you respond stubbornly and he thinks briefly that this isn't the tact he's used to seeing you use in verbal sparring matches. He's not sure if it soothes or stresses him that he seems to unarm you the same way you so effortlessly unarm him.

"We were apart for years, Damian," you continue quietly, looking away from him pointedly. "And… we were never actually together. And we were so young when you left the League. And…" you trail off, eyes shifting as you seemingly search for the right words.

"And…?" he prompts patiently. You sigh, slumping over ever so slightly, cracking your perfect posture for just a moment. Damian wonders if anyone else has ever seen you like this or if he's an exception - then kicks himself mentally for focusing on something like that right now.

"You came to Gotham for a second chance - a new life. I don't expect that you sat here waiting for me… I don't expect that there was never anyone else," you finish glumly, still pointedly looking anywhere but Damian as you speak. He makes a strange sound at your words, a strangled sort of panicked noise at the idea that you're presenting to him.

He turns suddenly, facing you completely as he reaches out, hands outstretching towards you so fast and determinedly that you jerk back, years of the two of you on opposite sides of a bloody fight flashing in front of your eyes. But there's no fight in Damian tonight. There's no violence in the way he cups your cheeks tenderly in his hands, pulling himself forward to press a kiss to your lips.

Your own surprised sound leaves your throat at the action, your hands reaching up to wrap around Damian's wrists as he kisses you. Maybe you both expect for you to pull him away, but you find your fingers wrapping around the delicate bones of his wrists and keeping him there, pressed against you.

By the time the two of you part, you're both gasping for breath and you find yourself half in Damian's lap, your chest heaving against his as his hands anchor you to him. He tips his head forward to touch his forehead to yours, leaning into you as you relax against him. A faint smile flits over his lips at the way you sag against his chest, letting the tension you've lived with for so long slip ever so slightly off your shoulders.

Eventually, he brings a hand to cup your cheek again, firmly this time, moving just enough to look at you. You're close still - close enough that you can feel his lips brush against yours as he talks and you can't help but notice the way his heart beats against his chest and into yours.

"It was always you," he says in that voice that you know is reserved for you - that voice that's gentle and loving and full of so much emotion that it nearly wavers. "There was never anyone else - not even in my thoughts. Certainly not pressed up against me like this."

You huff at his words, your cheeks beginning to feel hot as you pull away from him just enough to let your head fall to his shoulder, your face hidden from him. He lets you, thankfully, humming in contentment and just a touch of smugness as he pulls you closer to him, your weight a welcoming blanket.

"I think…" you begin, pulling your face away from his neck to look at him again. "I think this may have been inevitable. I think we… might have been inevitable." Damian grins at your words, his smile flashing in a way that makes your stomach swoop.

"I think you're right," he says firmly. Sounds of the gala float up towards the two of you as you sit together, leaning against each other. "I was, by the way," he continues. You cock your head to the side.

"What?"

"I was waiting for you. And I would again, if I needed to. Until the end of my days." Damian says it so simply, so matter-of-factly, and something in your brain feels fuzzy because of it.

"Well… I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long," you respond gently, a smile passing across your lips quickly. Damian's returning smile is just as small - just as shy. His voice, in his response, is soft in a way that blankets you.

"You don't need to apologize. Your mistakes are not sins to me and your missteps do not demand penance. You will never have to ask for my forgiveness because it will always be given… without question, without hesitation, without uncertainty. It's… inevitable."

You laugh at his words and Damian feels his heart soar.

"Yes," you agree. "I suppose it is."

#smsn.writes #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne robin #robin x reader #robin x you #robin imagine

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weewookinard · 2 months ago

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Some BuckTommy love letters 💖

Hello everyone! As you know, i've had some trouble at home and it prevented me from writing. But I missed my lovely BuckTommy so much, and I missed writing too! So I decided to start to write again, but slow and easy as to preserve myself. Still, we're #1 on tumblr!! It's something to celebrate am I right? So here is some cheesy love letter from Tommy to Buck!

My great, adorable, fabulous friend @bangpop91 send me the word "fantasy" and I want for it lmao. It's explicit but also really cheesy. You can find it on AO3 or below!

Feel free to send an ask with a word to inspire me some love letters!

Enjoy 💖

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My sweet boyfriend,

I need to come clean.

I lied to you. I lied about what I wanted to do to you when you asked me yesterday, naked in my arms, your tights strongly wrapped around my waist.

I told you about this fantasy, about you at my mercy, tied up and gagged and not able to do a thing but take it again and again. I told you about how you would look pretty, unable to beg me for more, tears in your eyes and skin flushed red. I told you about your body screaming for release, and mine selfishly thrusting into your powerless form, looking for my own pleasure, and you enjoying being used so much.

And sure, I would love that. I would love to see you trembling and pleading with your pretty, wet eyes, your cock in need of attention but receiving none. What a great fantasy to have and to fulfil don’t you think? Especially with you, so sweet and expressive and beautiful when you cry.

I don’t lie to you often, but it happens. Like yesterday, when I tried to sound filthy enough without scaring you. Don’t want you to think I’m some king of pervert, right?

Here is the thing, Evan Buckley. I’m not a beast, or a smooth guy, or some sort of sex god. Well, I’m not only that.

I’m a sap. The biggest, cheesiest sap you ever met baby. Head over heels, besotted, idiot over you it makes me think crazy thoughts.

My biggest fantasy is not to have you at my mercy. It’s not to have you in any sexual way, even though I have a lot more than what I said to you in my mind. Things I can’t tell you now, things I’m even ashamed to want because it’s how I’ve been raised. With shame of myself, of my sexuality, of wanting men. Depraved thoughts I’m not sure you are ready for, my sweet sweet boy.

One day I’ll tell you about them, maybe. If I feel like you could want them too. Maybe you’ll surprise me, maybe you’re kinkier than my other relationships were.

But I can’t tell you about my biggest want, about this huge fantasy of mine that grows deep in my guts, in my soul even. The one of you in a blue suit, perfect shape, colour making your eyes shines. Of me dressed in white, a way of saying fuck you to my dad, to my old self. I’m sure I’ll look good in white. I’ll even look better with a ring on my left hand. A ring I stopped imagining a long time ago but that can’t stop appearing in my dreams now that I know you.

It's way too soon to want to marry you, right? People don’t marry each other so soon. They wait to be sure; they don’t want it to be a mistake or to look too impatient.

But I don’t see a world where you are a mistake Evan.

I can only see blue, and white, and tears. The happiest kind.

Maybe one day this will be more than just a fantasy.

Yours,

Tommy

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hannahssimblr · 2 months ago

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Beginning // Prev // Next

Transcript

Jude: This is where you get all your clothes?

Jonas: Yes. Why would I get them for three, maybe four times the cost when I can get it here? And you see, it is more sustainable.

Jude: Some of these suits look... I mean, the collars.

Jonas: They could be useful if Elias chooses a 70s theme in the future.

Jude: [mutters] Ore if we want to catch the fucking wind and fly away.

Jonas: Do you like purple?

Jude: A purple suit.

Jonas: I can tell it is too jazzy for you. The colour is like an aubergine, instead of Barney und Seine Freunde, do you see? Okay, okay. We'll find something black.

...

Jonas: Hey! To me, it looks good.

Jude: I feel awkward. I hate suits.

Jonas: Every man needs to have at least one suit in his possession.

Jude: Not me.

Jonas: You have never owned one? Not even for events?

Jude: No. Why would I go somewhere that requires me to wear one of these? The range of movement in these jackets, man... I'm stifled.

Jonas: So you would like to do backflips and cartwheels in your suit.

Jude: [glowers]

Jonas: Don't you know that women love men who wear suits? Dalia says it's like when they were lingerie for us. Maybe a bikini or something.

Jude: Maybe so, but I'm pretty sure the ladies love what I wear already.

[they chuckle]

Jonas: So, have you told Gabija about the party?

Jude: I didn't know I could bring a guest.

Jonas: Dude! Of course. You can bring whoever you like. Elias doesn't care.

Jude: Okay, yeah. [hesitates] I'll think about it anyway.

Jonas: What is there to think so much about? You simply ask her. You could text her now.

Jude: Jonas...

Jonas: You can say: 'Hallo Gabija! I am inviting you to a party this Saturday at 9PM. It is a costume party, and the theme is Academy Awards, so you must find a dress to wear, and do something to your hair.'

Jude: Very direct.

Jonas: Well, sometimes the way you prefer to do things is indirect, which is... I don't understand.

Jude: Look, I'll think about texting her.

Jonas: Do you want her to come?

Jude: I dunno, really. I haven't decided.

Jonas: You don't like her anymore.

Jude: [scoffs] Jonas, what's with all these questions?

Jonas: I am simply trying to understand what's in your mind. You are not telling the truth to you. If you want her to come to the party, you will invite her, and if you don't, then I am curious about why.

Jude: Because she's annoying! She pisses me off!

Jonas: Well, you are correct. She is very annoying. I assumed you were seeing her for a reason other than her personality.

Jude: No. If you must know, nothing we do is especially... thrilling.

Jonas: Now you must tell her you don't wish to see her anymore.

Jude: Just like that, huh? You think I should text her now, right?

Jonas: 'Hallo Gabija! I need to tell you that you are always talking too much about yourself and interrupting people, and I cannot take it anymore. Also! It gets worse. You are super boring to have sex with. I don't want to see you anymore. Tschuss!'

Jude: [laughs] Tschuss. Look, I get your point. You think I should be honest, but I just don't want to hurt anyone.

Jonas: It's better if you tell her. Dragging it on for so long is cruel, and you are wasting time that you could be spending with someone else.

Jude: True.

Jonas: There are many interesting women around.

Jude: You talking about someone in particular?

Jonas: ...

Jude: I won't ask.

...

Jude: Hey, by the way, what's up with Astrid? Does she have a boyfriend, or?

Jonas: [laughs] Astrid, huh?

Jude: Yeah, Astrid. What of it?

Jonas: You're a brave man.

Jude: Why d'you say that?

Jonas: Because she is fucking scary.

Jude: [chuckles] C'mon. That's what Gabija said too. What's the big deal?

Jonas: She'll see you coming for her and bite your head off before you can speak.

Jude: Ooh, spooky. I can handle it.

Jonas: Whatever you say.

Jude: She's pretty, though, isn't she? I think she might fancy me.

Jonas: Yes, as sirens are 'pretty' before they rip you to pieces on the rocks.

Jude: You're convinced she'll kill me, obviously. I can see you're really committed to the murder and violent death theme.

Jonas: [sighs] Well, do as you wish, Jude. I suspect you have already made up your mind.

#lucky boy 2011 #jonas my love #he's just so cute i can't handle it #sims 4 storytelling #simblr story #simblr #sims story #show us your story

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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 year ago

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Settling in

Part 4 of my Demon Twins AU, a simple shopping trip between Danyal and Bruce, One of the Demon Head’s heirs try being childish. Previous First

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When they entered the high-end department store Bruce has selected Danny froze, there were so many colours, so much movement, so many people and music. He breathed through the anxiety, deep and slow, starting slightly when a large, warm hand landed on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” Bruce asked with a worried expression.

“Yes I’m fine,” Danny said automatically, before pausing for a moment and repeating more sincerely; “I’ll be fine, I just haven’t been in a store like this before. There’s a lot going on, and a lot of people. It’s an adjustment to be somewhere so… brightly lit.” He said, his lip curling slightly

“Alright, maybe I should have brought you somewhere smaller to start, but I didn’t know what style you would like so I wanted to bring you somewhere with a lot of options. We can leave and go somewhere quieter if you want?” Bruce offered.

“I’m grateful for the offer but no, I really will be alright,” Danny assured. “I don’t even know what styles I like. I intended to ask Tim to help me look up some inspiration, but I didn’t get the chance, so I guess I’ll find out what I like as I go. And you’ll have to tell me if something is entirely unacceptable. With as many children as you have you must know something about youth style,” He told Bruce who grimaced a little at the suggestion.

“If I turn out looking ridiculous I’m going to hold you personally responsible,” Danny teased his father with a cheeky smile, and Bruce huffed something that might have been a laugh.

“Well alright, I’ll do my best to help,” Bruce assured, shooing Danny deeper into the store who, reassured that Bruce would tell him if something was unacceptable, took off into the store. He found a bunch of different things, styled and cuts that he wanted to try on, just to see how they felt and looked.

“There’s a limit to how many things you can take into the changing room,” Bruce said when he saw how many thing Danny had grabbed. “Maybe you should go try these on for now and pick out more after?”

“Oh sure!” Danny said looking towards the changing room and then hesitated. “I’ll come out to show you the clothes?” He asked, looking back at his father.

“Of course, I’ll come wait just outside and anything you’re not sure of you can come show me. If you’re sure you don’t like it, or if you’re sure that you do you don’t have to ask me. I know you’re worried, but I really doubt anything you pick out will be totally terrible. This is a pretty high-end store, all the stuff they sell here is fashionable. It doesn’t all match but if you don’t clash colours I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Bruce assured as he lead the way over to the changing room.

He sat down on a bench outside the changing rooms while an attendant showed Danny to a room and he tried on the clothes. He rejected the tighter pants he’d picked out himself, they were too restrictive, the looser jeans were good, and so were the pants. Some of the shirts were good, he found he liked lighter colours on himself and he found some textures that felt good against his skin. He went out to show his father the two outfits that he liked, and with Bruce’s approval he went and picked out more clothes that he now knew would suit his taste. It ended up looking… well not unlike Tim’s style, though with lighter colours, which he sort of knew that it would honestly. He liked the way Tim dressed, he just hoped that Tim wouldn’t mind.

With enough clothes picked out for a decent wardrobe they went to check out, a few people were noticeably staring at them and Danny gave them an impassive but polite smile. He hoped that even though people had clearly recognized it wouldn’t cause problems. They had no such luck though, and were just finishing checking out when someone started taking photos. Bruce quickly hurried them out of the store, staying between Danny and the stranger as much as he could so the only photos would be blurry or obscured. It didn’t matter, they both knew that article would be in the paper by tomorrow morning.

They didn’t talk about it, instead Bruce just told him next they’d be going to was another, more private store where they would be getting him a couple of nice suits for events. Of course, that made sense, Bruce were suits all the time. For all casual clothes seemed to be the norm for Bruce’s children they all had to clean up for various press conferences and galas, Danny has seen the pictures.

The store they went to was really nice! It was quiet, the music they played was peaceful, it smelled like sandalwood, and the clothes were horribly uncomfortable. Danny found he Hated suits, they were scratchy, and warm and constrictive, but he knew they were necessary. He bore with it and said nothing, mostly letting father make the choices because he wouldn’t like any of them anyway. He put up with being touched, and measures, and cooed over by the staff with as much grace as he could, but he was glad when it was done.

“Alright, they’ll make necessary changes so they fit correctly and send them to us, probably just in time for them to have to be let out again when you have a growth spurt,” Bruce chuckled to Danny as they left. Danny smiled politely and tried to pretend his skin wasn’t still crawling from the feeling of the wool against it. Not well apparently because Bruce’s expression immediately softened. “You alright Chum?” He asked, and when Danny didn’t answer he added; “Why don’t we go get some lunch? We can just go through the Batburger drive thru and park somewhere quiet to just eat in the car?”

“That sounds good,” Danny agreed, he didn’t know what Batburger was of course but quiet, food and a little break from the errands sounded nice.

It turned out what Batburger was, was really fucking good! The food was really greasy and flavourful, and Damian would hate it no doubt, but Danny thought it was great! He ate carefully, trying not to get any grease or sauce on his new shirt, and mostly succeeded. “Thank you,” He murmured when Bruce passed him a napkin and pointed to bit of sauce that had fallen on his shirt. Danny scowled a little as he wiped it up sauce carefully.

Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly and Danny looked up, his brow furrowing a little. Bruce wasn’t looking at him, fidgeting with his fries, Danny bit back the urge to tell him not to play with his food. “I know you don’t fully trust me or feel comfortable here, and I want you to know that that’s okay,” He said without looking at Danny. Well that was random, did he think that Danny’s discomfort with the wool suit had been something deeper? Danny blinked owlishly at his father.

“The way you’ve been raised… Even seeing through some of it like you did, or maybe because you did, you’re remarkably self reliant, but you don’t have to be.” Bruce forged ahead despite Danny’s blank stare. “I’ll do what I can to earn your trust, and I want you to know that you can always come to me with anything you need.”

Danny looked down and took another bite of his burger, turning Bruce’s words over in his head. They were reassuring honestly, it was good that Bruce didn’t immediately demand loyalty and trust, that he was willing to earn it as all was a good sign. “I appreciate that,” Danny said hesitantly, he wasn’t sure what else to say. He put down his burger and cleaned his hands as he considered it. “You’re right, there wasn’t really anyone I trusted at the league. Obviously not Grandfather, mother… was maybe the closest. I know she loved us deeply, but not as much as she loved the league, she was very clear that there were certain things I thought and knew that I couldn’t tell her as to not divide her loyalty. And Dami means more to me then anyone, but he idolizes grandfather so there was really no one I could talk about my doubts with.

“It took a lot of careful work to get out of there, and I’m good at it, but it would nice not to have to be. More then anything I want Damian to see the truth about all this so I don’t have to hold him at arms length anymore. That was always their plan though, to separate us. There were things about the league he couldn’t tell me so I couldn’t tell you when I left, and I knew things about you and the outside world at large I wasn’t supposed to tell him. By the time they decided to send us both here the damage was done really, and we were used to keeping secrets from each other too.”

He sighed and wrapped what was left up his burger up and put it back in the bag, he wasn’t hungry anymore. When he glanced over Bruce was giving him a pitying look that put Danny’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t help the bit of green that crept into his vision as he bared his teeth. “Don’t look at me like that, we did what we had to to survive.”

“I know,” Bruce said calmly, resting a reassuring hand on Danny’s shoulder. “And you did well, I just wish I had known about you and Damian sooner so that you wouldn’t have had to. If I had known that you two existed nothing could have kept me from getting you from that place.”

Danny took a deep shuddering breath, trying to imagine what their lives would have been like if Bruce had come for them, what sort of people they could have been. But trying just made him sad, he sighed and shook his head. “Thanks,” He murmured, and things were silent for a long minute while Bruce ate a few more fries and then packed away his food as well.

“So, it’s up to you what we do next. I intended to get some decorations for your room, maybe glow in the dark stars for your ceiling, and then I was going to take you to the planetarium, I already have it reserved for us. But if you’re too tired that’s alright, I should have expected this might be overwhelming,” he said with a sigh. ”I guess I was a little overexcited,” he admitted ruefully.

Bruce didn’t have to worry, Danny perked up immediately at the mention of going to the planetarium, suddenly finding he was no where near as tired as he thought he was! “No I want to go!” He said quickly, sitting up properly in his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Please! I can handle a little more shopping if we’re going to the planetarium after,” He assured with a seriousness that had Bruce stifling a smile.

“Alright wonderful, let’s get going then,” Bruce agreed, finally starting the car again and pulling out of the secluded parking lot they’d settled in. He was just glad no one had tried to break into the car while they were sitting there! After all this was Gotham.

Danny rallied himself well for the last bout of shopping, getting some personal touches for his room including a bedspread he liked, glow in the dark stars, and a few other nick-knacks to personalize the space. It was clear Danny was impatient though, rushing them through the store so that they could get to the main event, the reward for getting all these errands done. Good thing too because it seemed after they’d been spotted earlier the press was on high alert and they barely managed to hustle back to the car before cameras started flashing.

Danny couldn’t sit still in his seat on the final leg of the drive to the observatory and when they got out of the car he ended up grabbing Bruce’s hand to haul him along when he went to slow. Bruce had to laugh as his son’s eagerness, speeding up but not too much so Danny wouldn’t end up running, and maybe to see more of the rather adorable exasperation on his youngest son’s face. They were a little early for their reserved hours but the staff didn’t seem to mind and let them start their tour.

Bruce watched as Danny absolutely lit up as the tour guide told them about the stars, and Nasa, and the known species of aliens. It was so good to see Danny so happy of course, but it also gave Bruce some important information, all of his previous smiles had been some level of fake. Some more then others he was sure, but now having seen Danny truly happy he would know better when the boy was faking, even though he faked very well. Bruce had already had an idea that Danny was, especially when it was a little more strained like when Dick had been fussing over the twins, but it was good to have it confirmed nonetheless.

Bruce had been to the planetarium before, but more for fancy mixers, not with one of his children and it was fun! He paid more attention to the tour and learned a few small facts even though he knew most of info, and it was a little annoying to have to play dumb as Brucie Wayne. After the tour the last stop was the gift shop, where he waited by the counter while Danny rushed around to look at everything.

Honestly they could have skipped the interior design store and just come here to decorate Danny’s room. He picked out far more here. Including a soft blanket with star patterns, a light that would project the Milky Way on his ceiling, a few books, and, after hesitation, a plush version of a made up alien. The sort with grey skin and large heads.

“Is this alright?” He asked when he brought his picks up to the counter. “I can put some of it back,” He added looking up at Bruce with an unsure expression, he seemed to be trying not to pout and not fully succeeding, he clearly didn’t want to put any of it back. Good thing money didn’t really matter in this.

“No that’s alright,” Bruce promised as he pulled out his wallet. “It’ll help make your room feel more like yours, I want you to be comfortable here,” He assured. Danny grinned up and him and piled the items on the counter. The woman behind the counter smiled at him as she scanned the items, Danny smiled back, genuine but shy, an unusual smile for him.

Bruce was tired by the time they left, and Danny was energized beyond belief, practically dancing around Bruce, carrying the bags as he chattered at Bruce about the stuff he’d just learned. Bruce listened with a little smile, humming and nodding along as Danny switched to talking about how excited he was to read the books. He stowed most of his stuff in the back seat, keeping the plush as he climbed into the passenger seat, repeatedly running his fingers over the soft fabric of the alien, finally falling silent.

“You did well today Danny, I’m glad you had fun at the planetarium,” Bruce said without looking away from the road.

“I did,” Danny murmured in agreement, when Bruce glanced over Danny was frowning slightly down at the plushy. “They took pictures of us, there’ll be an article by tomorrow about your new charge. We’ll have to do an interview within the week. I can do it, but I’m worried about Damian being out in the public eye so soon, I’d offer to do it for both of us, but I don’t think he’d accept being left out.” Danny said.

Ah, back to being far too serious for his age and worrying about his brother. “I can speak for both of you for now, make an announcement about how I have two new sons but you need time to adjust so you won’t be in the public eye,” Bruce suggested and Danny nodded thoughtfully.

“Damian won’t accept it unless you specify we’re your biological sons,” He said with a wry smile and Bruce chuckled.

“Alright, with my play-boy reputation I don’t think it’ll surprise anyone,” Bruce agreed, and Danny nodded again.

“That will do, you should call a meeting with the two of us tomorrow to discuss it, so he won’t feel left out,” Danny murmured.

“You look out for him a lot, don’t you?” Bruce asked thoughtfully.

“We look out for each other, I know your rule against killing, but it was necessary in the LoA and more then once he finished off a target that was supposed to be mine. I could rarely follow through. My skills are less obviously useful then his skills with a blade and willingness to draw blood. I expect if you asked him, he would say he looks out for me more.”

“And you let him believe that?” Bruce asked, without judgment, whether or not it was true he wanted to know what Danyal thought.

“He’s very stubborn, I would prefer not to fight with him. We look after each other according to our skills, that’s always been enough for me,” Danny mused, running his fingers over the plush again.

“You’re a good kid Danny,” Bruce said, reaching over to ruffle Danny’s hair. “Why don’t you pick something to listen to on the radio?” That was enough serious talk for tonight. Danny nodded and started messing with the dials, finding some music and turning it up a bit.

----------

When they got home the other had already eaten but Alfred had set them aside meals. He shooed Bruce and Danny into the kitchen to eat, assuring Danny he would bring the bags from the car up to his bedroom to unpack later. Damian came to sit with them and quiz Danny about what the outing was like as he ate. Between bites Danny told Damian as much about the day as he could, as honestly as he could to prepare Damian for his own trip tomorrow. Bruce mostly stayed quiet through the meal, he seemed to be off in his world but both the twins knew he was listening to them intently.

“Do you want to come see the stuff that I got today?” Danny asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

“Why would I want that?” Damian asked with a sniff, a beat of silence following as Danny stared hard at a brother. “But alright,” he relented.

“Great! Come on,” Danny said, getting up from his chair, bringing his dishes over to the sink. “Thank you again Father,” Danny said politely before rushing off with Damian on his heels, chiding him for childish behaviour.

“Damian, we are children,” Danyal told his brother once they were in Danny’s room with the door closed, giving Damian a little smile. “Father will not mind if we act our age, at appropriate times of course. I know that because I tried it today, I was excited when he took me to the planetarium and I didn’t try to hide it. If anything, he found my childish behaviour charming,” He pulled the stuffed animal out of one of the bags and tossed it to Damian.

“Neither of us have ever had a stuffed animal have we? We witnessed other children beyond the League of Shadows having them, but we were ‘to old for them’ the moment we were old enough to want one. But Father didn’t blink at buying me one today, he doesn’t mind if we let loose a little. I promise,” Danyal said, giving Damian a reassuring smile.

Damian harrumphed, examined the stuffed alien and then tossed it back onto Danny’s bed. It was a better reaction then Danyal had feared, he’d half expected Damian to try and destroy the plushy. Danny started to unpack his clothes as Damian thought that over. The occasional snide comments about Danny’s choices were absentminded and didn’t take away from his thoughts, Danny ignored them.

“We don’t know how to be children,” Damian said, sulkily, he didn’t cross his arms and pout, but Danny could tell by the way his hands twitched that he sort of wanted to.

“No we don’t, I don’t think we even really know how to be ourselves. But I think we can try, do some slightly silly things, ask for some things that Grandfather and Mother would never let us have or do. What’s the worst thing that he could do to us Dami? Punish us? We’ve been hurt plenty, we’ve been trained not to fear pain. Throw us out? We can return to the league if he does. The worst thing he can do is be disappointed, and we can learn from that. We have much to learn, and we won’t if we don’t try.”

Damian hummed, unconvinced but without argument. Danny shrugged, he couldn’t make his brother do anything, just try to nudge him in the right direction… or what he really hoped was the right direction.

Letting the serious conversation drop Danny unpacked the rest of his trinkets and set them up around the room, leaving the stars to put up later and laying out his on the bed. “I think the constellations we can see from this part of the world are different from the ones at home,” He said as he flipped to one of the pages showing the night sky. “Maybe some day he’ll take us on a mission, somewhere with a clearer sky. I want to know all the constellations we might see before then.”

Damian gave a long-suffering sigh but sat down next to Danny so they could look at the book together.

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

More on AO3

#danny phantom #DCU #DC stands for disregard cannon #dc x dp #Danyal al ghul #damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #demon twins #demon twins AU #something feels off about this chapter but I'm to tired to tell what #I'm going to make a subscription post for this story tomorrow #Danny loves space #good dad bruce wayne

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lebedame-wegelagerin · 1 year ago

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And here, as promised to the dear @vinceaddams come a lot of extant Garments from my recent Visit at the German National Museum in Nuremberg. I am trying to give as much Information about each Picture as I can though unfortunately not all of the Pictures were taken by me and I could take Pictures as extensively (including Info Signs) as I would have wanted, lest I be abandoned in the Clothing Section. Also the whole Section was awfully dim, which made it rather difficult to read some of the Signs. The last three Pictures were taken in a different Section, thus the more pleasant Lighting.

Servant Livery, bavarian Court, mid 19th Century (left); Servant of the Count of Cannotreadhisname, first half 19th Century (right)

Woman's Folkdress, Lötschental/Wallis (Switzerland), Museum dates it 1830/1905 which is an awfully broad Range, but maybe it was altered later; shows wonderfully how late 18th Century Styles were preserved in european Folkdress that came to be in the 19th Century proper

Various Men's Garments throughout the 18th Century, as there are Closeups of each, the respective Detailinformation will be provided further down.

Men's Spencer, c. 1810s-1820s, Linen and Cotton, the Sign didn't say it explicitely but due to it's Placement in the Exhibition and comparable other Pieces I have seen, I think this is more of a common Man's Piece of Clothing.

Three Men's Shirts, various Shoebuckles, a cocked Hat, a Periwig and what I assume to be a Hair Bag. This Display Case had a rather badly illuminated Sign, so sadly I have no further Details about the Pieces.

Justeaucorps, c. 1695, Wool, Silk, Metal Trim.

Waistcoat, c. 1695, Silk, according to the Museum it was worn together with the Justeaucorps, which seems to be a nice Colour-Combination.

Breeches, 1790-1800, Silk. Very pretty Pair, but the bad Lighting doesn't really let it show.

Habit à la francaise, c. 1790, Wool, Silk, Embroidery (What a Material Specification...). I really like the Combination of those subtle dark on dark Stripes and the Embroidery.

Tailcoat, c. 1790/1795, Cotton, Silk, Linen, really peak 1790s Look honestly.

Very wide Court Panniers, with Pocket Hoops and Crinoline in the Background. Alas no Detail Information for this and the next two Pictures.

Frontal View of the Pannier. I suppose I have to get one of those at some Point, if only for how extra they are.

Three Pairs of Stays, two from the Front, one from the Back. Sadly I don't feel confident enough to Date those and I have no Pictures showing the Info Signs well enough.

Lots of pretty Dresses that were exhibited in another Section of the Museum. The right one is a Robe à l'Anglaise, but that's all I can tell.

Another beautiful Anglaise, notable for being preserved in its Entirety with original Ruffles.

More pretty Dresses. Unfortunately due to Time Reasons I have no Pictures of the Suits displayed across the Dresses in the U-shaped Display, though I have to say one of them had a very much not authentic Lacebib hanging from the Neck...

That's all the cool Clothing Pics I have, at some Point I will return and take loooots more Pictures from all the Angles too. Also at some Point I might write to the Museum about the Lighting, there surely is a better Solution when having your Objects barely visible with unreadable Signs while still protecting them from UV-Rays.

Bonus-Pic 1:

Me, in historical Dress, c. 1750 (minus the Shoes), standing in a historical Kitchen.

Bonus-Pic 2, for the Boat-Crowd:

Beautifully detailed Modell Sailing Ship, early to mid 17th Century if I remember correctly. Interestingly enough all the little Sailor Figurines on it were very much early 19th Century in Style, so I assume the previous owner had those added at some Point, before the Museum acquired the Model in the late 19th Century. (The Incongruence sadly wasn't addressed on the Info Sign, so I might contact them about this too.)

#Aus dem Leben einer Taugenichts #Extant Garments #Historical Fashion #Germanisches National Museum #18th Century #19th Century #Museum

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patchworkgargoyle · 1 year ago

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with a bang 🎊

A gift for the lovely and talented Joey (@matchingbatbites) as part of our STuad server holiday gift exchange! I hope you enjoy, and have a lovely new year <3

Based on the prompts: impact play, secret relationship, and "don't be mean to me." Fingers crossed I did them justice! Rated: E || 4.7k words || CW: impact play, unprotected sex Full tag list on ao3!

Eddie was going to combust. He was also debating whether he should plot Robin’s untimely demise or send her a Thank You bouquet. Dressing up for their New Years party had been her idea, after all, and once she got Nancy on her side there was no swaying either of them, no matter how much the rest of them had hemmed and hawed. Eddie didn’t see a point to it; he’d thought they were just calling it a New Years party as an excuse to hang out without the rugrats for once, but then Robin wanted to make it a party party. With champagne and shit. And fancy clothes.

Once Argyle had confirmed he could wear whatever colours he wanted, so long as the clothes were dressy, Eddie knew his fate was sealed. He’d been the biggest—and loudest—nay-sayer, but with Jonathan, Steve, and Vickie being more or less neutral, his hard-fought battle against a dress code had been lost.

And jesus christ, is he ever glad he lost.

He got to Steve’s place last after he hit up the liquor store, the three bottles of the cheapest sparkling wine in his arms bought with their pooled funds. They nearly smashed on the Harrington stoop when Steve opened the front door he’d obnoxiously kicked looking like… well.

Steve owned a suit, apparently. A nice one. God, it must be tailored or some shit with how well it fit. His shoulders were so broad in the suit jacket, the black tie looking at home around Steve’s throat under the pressed white collar. Black dress pants made his legs long. Even that signature swoop in his hair was perfectly coiffed. Eddie’s eyes devoured the sight before him, and the first and foremost thought in his mind was that he wanted to get Steve out of that suit as soon as goddamn possible. Especially when Steve began to smirk at him knowingly.

His second thought was that he was so screwed.

They’d been hooking up for a bit now, was the thing. It was new. They hadn’t told anyone yet because they wanted to keep it to themselves, figure it out a little, have fun before the kids learned about it and got nosy. When they’d started talking about going on dates, though—and if his past self knew he’d be planning a date with Steve Harrington he’d blow a gasket—they’d agreed to say something once New Years was over. But how the hell was Eddie going to keep his mouth shut, not to mention his hands to himself, when Steve looked like that!?

“You’re wearing that?” he hissed. “This is cruel and unusual, Steve. This is torture. Why are you dressed like that when I can’t do anything about it!”

Shrugging, Steve whispered, “It’s my only suit, it’s all I had to wear.”

Eddie felt he was being too nonchalant about this and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to complain more but then he heard Nancy’s voice from inside. “What are you guys doing? It’s cold out!” she said with a laugh, and Steve cocked an eyebrow and stepped aside so Eddie could come in.

Steve took the bottles so Eddie could get out of his coat, and he did notice, with no small amount of satisfaction, that Steve’s eyes were on him too. Eddie might not have a tailored suit, but his black dress shirt and slacks fit him pretty damn well, he figured, and the way Steve was looking at him made it clear he thought the same. Eddie stuck his tongue out between his teeth and wiggled his eyebrows at Steve suggestively and earned a dark, desirous look from him that promised later and sent a thrill down Eddie’s spine.

But later was getting harder and harder to wait for. As their little party went on, Steve found more ways to drive Eddie up the fucking wall, when he’d rather be pushed into the wall, secrecy be damned.

It was all the little touches, the fleeting looks. Steve developed a habit of tugging on Eddie’s belt loops when no one was looking, or the sleeve of his shirt; something that would grab Eddie’s attention and pull him just a smidge closer. When they’d ended up sitting next to each other on the couch Steve gradually shifted into Eddie’s space and their thighs kept touching, and Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to have his legs tangled with Steve’s in his bed. And then, when their eyes met, Eddie swore Steve would check him out. It was always quick, but he could practically feel it when Steve looked at his lips, or where his shirt collar was undone. Eddie went red every time.

Eventually Eddie decided to give as good as he got, though that may have also been fueled by the cheap wine. He’d watch Steve over the rim of his glass until Steve caught on and licked his lips when Steve’s eyes flicked downward, only glancing away after a few seconds of holding his gaze. Letting his arm drape casually over the back of the couch so he could brush his fingers down the nape of Steve’s neck was absolutely a risk, but it was worth it when Steve’s breath hitched and he stumbled over his words. He was talking to Jonathan, though, who was high as a kite and didn’t notice. Hopefully.

They kept upping the ante all night and Eddie was a stiff breeze away from getting hard from all the tension by the time midnight crept up on the group. Five minutes before the countdown, Nancy herded them all out to Steve’s backyard in a rush. The town stretched out in the distance, lights glittering in the dark winter night. An occasional screech and flash of colour from premature fireworks interrupted the anticipatory silence that hung over Hawkins. Vickie helped Robin uncork the last bottle of champagne, and the teens passed it around, refilling their glasses as they huddled close to fend off the cold.

“Did we really have to stand outside for this?” Steve grumbled. He stood between Eddie and Robin and kept bumping shoulders with both of them.

“Duh, we can’t see the fireworks from inside, dingus,” Robin said, even though she shivered the hardest out of all of them. Vickie was tucked into her side and had her arms wrapped around Robin’s waist to try to keep warm.

Steve crossed his arms and glared out across the snowy lawn. “We could’ve grabbed our coats at least.”

“I did mean to give us more time to get ready, but it’s too late now.” Nancy looked at her watch. “Two minutes until midnight.”

When Eddie shoved his free hand in his pocket and shivered extra hard, Steve leaned into him, and it took every bit of willpower to not give in to the urge to rest his head on Steve’s shoulder. Or kiss him. The idea of being openly affectionate with Steve made Eddie feel all fizzy inside in the best way. He was glad they were going to tell everyone after this. As fun as it had been, keeping this between themselves, he was getting tired of having to hide how he felt. He wanted their friends to know, wanted to touch and kiss his boyfrie—Steve without having to sneak around.

“Anyone got a wish they wanna make?” Argyle asked, and everyone else shot him confused looks.

“I don’t think people make wishes on New Years,” Jonathan said haltingly. “Do you mean resolutions?”

“Nah dude, I think wishes are better. Less pressure, y’know?”

Eddie tipped his head thoughtfully. “That’s a good point,” he said, and Argyle beamed at him.

“Yeah, that sounds like a nice idea.” Vickie agreed. “We should all think of a wish!”

“Just don’t say what it is or it won’t come true. Told my sister that I wished on a dandelion that my skateboard would never break but the next day it snapped like–” Argyle mimed breaking something over his knee, complete with sound effects. “It was a total bummer, man.”

“Wasn’t that the one you cracked and duct taped over?” Jonathan asked, bloodshot eyes narrowed as he tried to remember.

“Yeah, but like, with the good tape.”

Nancy gave an amused, but pinched, smile when she said, “Half a minute.”

Steve shuffled and Eddie looked over at him. He was so unfairly handsome tonight, freckled cheeks and nose flushed from the chill, and though his hair wasn’t quite as perfect anymore it just made him look roguish. Eddie wanted to get his hands in it. He wanted to kiss Steve so much it hurt. Subtly, Eddie slipped his hand from his pocket and wiggled the tips of his fingers in-between Steve’s, and Steve looked down at his feet to hide his smile, giving Eddie’s fingers a brief squeeze.

His heart beat a rapid staccato in his chest and Eddie knew right then what he was going to wish for.

“Ten seconds!” Nancy announced, then counted down, and everyone joined in, grinning at each other excitedly. Five seconds, three, one, and–

A whole chorus of screeching, banging fireworks from the town almost drowned out their cheers of Happy New Year! A riot of colours burst across the sky, spilling over the untouched snow and lighting up their faces, and Eddie silently sent his wish up into the sky with them.

Steve didn’t look at anyone but him, his face soft with affection. And Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off Steve. The fireworks looked better reflected in his eyes anyway.

“Hey, can you help me grab something from inside?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded frantically.

Robin snorted when Steve and Eddie scampered off, but Eddie paid her no mind. He was too busy following Steve through the house filled with the loud music they’d forgotten to turn off. When he realised they were heading upstairs, heat began to burn low in his belly and anticipation buzzed under his skin. He wasn’t sure if they were out of view yet, but he didn’t care, giving Steve’s ass a light smack and smirking when Steve shot a glare over his shoulder. How could he be expected to resist? It was right in front of him!

They hurried down the hallway to Steve’s room, and Eddie was barely through the doorway when Steve shut it and crowded him up against it to kiss him. Eddie groaned hungrily and parted his lips for Steve’s tongue, the kiss turning messy with their enthusiasm. He felt Steve yanking his shirt out of his slacks and flinched, gasping, when Steve’s cold fingers touched his scarred sides.

“Been driving me nuts all night, Eds,” Steve muttered against Eddie’s lips, his hands inching up Eddie’s shirt. “You look so good all dressed up, god. When you touched my neck I almost caved and pinned you to the couch.”

Eddie laughed. “I couldn’t help myself,” he purred.

“Yeah well, it was a dick move.” Steve reached Eddie’s chest and swiped his chilly thumb over Eddie’s hardened nipple before pinching and rolling it, making him whimper. “Kinda think I should get some payback for it.”

“Don’t be mean to me, Stevie,” Eddie said, but his tone was deliberately teasing even as he squirmed a bit under Steve’s hands. He loved pressing his luck with Steve, pushing his buttons and seeing what it got him.

Steve arched an eyebrow, then shoved his knee between Eddie’s thighs, pressing into Eddie’s rapidly hardening cock. His mouth fell open and he rocked into the pressure. But then Steve’s hands grabbed him by the hips and held him still, pinned to the door, and Eddie whined.

“You teased me all night, and you think I’ll make it easy for you?” Steve smirked before he leaned down to kiss Eddie’s collarbones, nipping at Eddie’s skin to make him twitch ineffectually in his grip. All the while, he kept lightly grinding his thigh against Eddie’s dick, barely enough movement to taunt him.

Eddie groaned. “You teased me too!”

Steve slapped Eddie’s thigh and the shock of it, more than the light sting of it, made Eddie bite his lip to muffle a moan. “You made it worse,” Steve whispered into his ear as he soothed the spot he’d slapped with a gentle touch. “So yeah, I’m gonna be a little mean.”

Teeth caught his earlobe and Eddie shuddered, unable to contain a triumphant grin. Holy shit, he was excited for this. He fucking loved it when this side of Steve came out to play.

Straightening up, Steve let go of Eddie’s hips to work at the knot in his tie. “Ride my thigh,” he said as the knot came free and he whipped the tie off, flinging it somewhere into the room. Eddie nodded and started rolling his hips. The relief at being able to move was almost as powerful as the surge of arousal he felt at the command. His slacks were tight over his cock but the friction was so delicious. Steve’s strong thigh kept Eddie’s legs apart enough that he had to brace himself on Steve’s shoulders. It gave him enough stability to really grind, and jesus christ, between all the flirting and teasing and touching all night, and this, Eddie could already feel his orgasm building. Shit.

And the way Steve looked wasn’t helping anything. A lock of hair had come free over his forehead, making him look more artfully dishevelled, and Steve had unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, dark curls of hair peeking out. Eddie wanted to eat him, be eaten by him. He dug his fingers into Steve’s shoulders and pulled him into a demanding kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing his low moan.

While they kissed, Steve made quick work of Eddie’s shirt, and as soon as it was gone Steve’s hands were on him again, greedy and grasping. One wide palm held the back of his head, tugging lightly at his hair, and the other guided Eddie’s hips faster. Heat blazed in his gut and Eddie’s desperate grinding was starting to lose its tempo.

“S-Steve, oh fuck, gonna come in my pants i-if I keep going,” Eddie rasped.

“You can keep going a little longer,” Steve replied, no, insisted.

“I can’t,” Eddie whined. Steve slapped his thigh again, harder this time, and Eddie’s whine went embarrassingly high and reedy.

“Might have to be a little mean if you can’t keep going. Do you want that, baby?”

Oh yes he fucking did. “Yes, yes, fuck, Steve, yes I do,” he babbled, and Steve clicked his tongue like he was disappointed. But all Eddie saw in his face was devoted hunger, hazel eyes intense with it, making something swoop in Eddie’s gut.

“Your choice,” Steve said casually. Then he slapped him again, on the same, still stinging spot, and Eddie threw his head back as he came soundlessly, making a mess of his boxers, immediately feeling warm and sticky as he gasped for air and clung to Steve.

Steve held him through it, made sure his head didn’t smash into the door, muttering, “So pretty when you come, Eddie. Couldn’t help it, could you? S’okay. You’ll make it up to me.”

“I will, I will Steve, whatever you want.”

“Good boy,” Steve said, low and confident. Eddie shivered at the words and his eager groan was silenced when Steve kissed him, taking him by the hand and leading him with teasing, bitey kisses to the bed.

Eddie’s knees hit the bed and he let himself fall, bouncing on the eyesore of a duvet and quickly scrambling to get his slacks off, cringing at the way his cum made his boxers stick to him. At least he had a spare pair here. Steve grabbed the lube from his nightstand and chucked it onto the bed, then stood between Eddie’s legs and stared, swallowing at the sight of Eddie sprawled out on his bed. Smirking, Eddie spread his legs further, tilting his chin back as he tossed his hair. Seeing Steve still fully clothed, in a suit no less, hard cock bulging in his dress pants while Eddie was bare fucking naked below him made Eddie feel electric. He wiggled a little just to ease the frisson skittering along his nerves.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

Reaching out, Steve trailed his big fingers along the sensitive skin of Eddie’s inner thigh reverently, goosebumps rising in his wake. “Always do.”

How Steve managed to sound turned on and sincere, Eddie had no idea, but it made his heart do flips in his chest.

Steve started slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt as his eyes lingered over Eddie’s body. “Turn over for me,” he said, and Eddie obeyed quickly, getting on his knees and elbows. Stretching out across the blankets, he looked over his shoulder at Steve and wiggled his ass in the air.

“C’mon Stevie,” he urged, drawing out the syllables, “I wanna know what you’re planning in that pretty head of yours.”

“Jesus, you’re impatient.” Steve shook his head, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips and he did speed up. Once undressed—and Eddie would never get over the sight of Steve naked, or the sheer size of his cock, jesus christ—he stepped closer to the bed and yanked Eddie in by his hips, making him yelp. “Maybe you should ask me politely,” he said.

“Pretty please, Stevie, with a cherry on t—aah!”

The slap to his asscheek rang out in the room, the sting radiating out all warm and tingly. Eddie made a short, whiny noise as his dick gave a valiant twitch. There was a click from behind him and Eddie jumped when he felt cold lube drip over his hole, then down his taint. Steve dragged his thumb through it, then rubbed soothingly over the ring of muscle.

“Count them for me.”

Eddie nodded and counted that first slap, then the next two, alternating sides each time. Steve kept massaging his hole, then pressing in gently when Eddie relaxed between each smack. By the fifth slap Eddie’s cheeks were prickling painfully, and his cock started to fill out again, hanging heavy between his legs and twitching almost painfully at every slap. He knew his pale skin must be so red.

Steve paused and brushed his free hand over Eddie’s heated, sore skin. “You doing okay, Eds?”

“Yep, oh yeah, so fucking okay,” he breathed, “green, golden, whatever. I’m so good.”

Laughing, Steve bent over and kissed the small of Eddie’ back. “Such a good boy for me, baby. Now keep counting.”

With each smack, Eddie felt his belly tighten further and further. He was so fucking aroused he’d began to writhe and rock back onto Steve’s thumb, then his fingers when he started stretching Eddie, prepping him. By the time they got to nine, Eddie was shaking, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh god, Steve, please, I want you to fuck me already, please please please,” he begged.

“I dunno. You think you’ve made it up to me yet?”

Another slap, and Eddie sobbed out, “Ten! Yes, please Stevie, I’ve been good!”

Steve’s fingers pulled out of Eddie’s hole and he sobbed again, clenching around nothing. “You’re okay, Eds, you have been good, I’ve got you,” Steve reassured. There was a wet sound, and soon enough the blunt head of Steve’s slicked-up cock pressed against Eddie’s stretched hole. He rubbed his clean hand down along the curve of Eddie’s spine, the tender touch almost overwhelming in comparison to the hot pain in his cheeks. “Ready?” Steve asked.

“God yes.”

Eddie muffled his guttural moan in the covers as Steve pushed in, also groaning in relief. And he didn’t waste much time. Eddie was loose enough that Steve’s short, sharp thrusts brought them flush together with little effort, though Eddie still felt stretched out and so fucking full. They stayed like that for a moment, adjusting to the feeling together. The way Steve breathed, heavy and quick, told Eddie that he was getting control of himself. That Steve was close to coming just from slapping him around made him grin and squeeze around his cock like a tease.

“Eddie, that’s unfair,” Steve grunted and grabbed a small handful of ass in retaliation. Pain burned deliciously under his hand.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie said only a tiny bit insincerely. He felt Steve laugh more than he heard it.

Then Steve started to move again. The slow drag of his cock made Eddie shudder, able to feel every vein before he plunged back in again. Groaning low in his throat, Steve said, “Fuck, Eddie, wish you could see yourself.” Both his hands grabbed at Eddie’s ass, and he jerked and whimpered at the pain. “So pretty and red.”

Eddie just whined wordlessly, and Steve’s thrusts sped up. Fists white-knuckled in the covers, he rocked back eagerly, desperate for the feeling rising like a tide about to crash over him. Steve’s cock felt so fucking good, but then Steve got a knee up on the mattress and he draped himself over Eddie’s back and the angle drove him right into Eddie’s prostate, over and over. Eddie couldn’t help the sweet, needy cries that tumbled out of his mouth as his pleasure mounted.

Fingers entwined with his. It was Steve’s favourite thing to do during sex and it’d quickly become Eddie’s too. One more point of connection, a soft gesture no matter how hard they were fucking each other, and it made Eddie melt every time. He squeezed Steve’s fingers, maybe a little too hard, but Steve just fucked him faster, the sound of skin slapping against sweaty skin mingling with their moaning.

“Steve, gonna come, soon, holy shit. T-touch me? Please, want you to touch me,” Eddie said.

“Me too, god, I’ve got you.”

Reaching down, Steve wrapped his hand around Eddie’s aching, dripping cock and jerked him in time with his thrusts. Eddie was fucking overwhelmed. Steve’s hand, Steve’s cock, he didn’t know which feeling to chase, couldn’t tell the difference as he sped towards the crest of his climax. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes, his legs shook, the only anchor he had was Steve’s hand in his and he clung to it as he moaned Steve’s name.

“I’m so close, wanna come with you,” Steve begged raggedly. “Come for me, Eddie, please baby.”

The urgency in his voice and the way Steve’s rhythm grew sloppy and rough pushed Eddie over the edge finally, gloriously. His orgasm crashed over him and he came with a choked cry, rutting into Steve’s grip as he spilled on the duvet. Steve’s forehead dropped onto Eddie’s back and with a few hard pumps of his hips he came too, warm and deep inside Eddie.

Eddie’s legs gave out and he collapsed on the bed, grunting when Steve came down with him. They both laughed breathlessly, and Steve rolled off him, lazily scooting up the bed and trying to pull Eddie along too. Though he felt like a limp noodle, Eddie gave in and fumbled his way up and into Steve’s sweaty arms. Head resting on his chest, Eddie could hear how Steve’s heartbeat steadily slowed to something calm, and could feel his own slow to match.

Music was still blasting downstairs, and fireworks were still going off here and there outside. One flashed close to Steve’s window, a shower of green and gold that lit up Steve’s gorgeous eyes.

“Happy New Year, Steve,” he whispered.

Smiling, Steve kissed Eddie sweet and slow, then said, “Happy New Year, Eddie.”

Eddie returned the smile, but it grew into something cheeky when he got an awful idea. He saw the suspicion grow across Steve’s face. “I guess we, uh… really started the year off with a bang,” he said, and Steve’s head fell back onto his pillow with a pained groan.

When they both woke up, Steve eventually managed to coax Eddie out of bed so they could get breakfast started for everyone. It didn’t take much coaxing when he reminded Eddie that he planned to make french toast just for him. Dressed in Steve’s borrowed pyjamas, Eddie blearily trudged downstairs with him.

Their friends must have found their ways to the various guest rooms, because the living room and kitchen were empty. It looked like half of the mess from last night had been tidied, and Eddie shook his head with a smile when he imagined Nancy trying to clean before being convinced to go to bed.

Eddie took up his usual spot, seated on the counter—despite the soreness from last night—and mostly out of the way while Steve got everything together. He looked so soft in the light and his old, worn Hawkins High Basketball shirt, his hair ravaged by sleep. Sighing, Eddie propped his chin in his hand as he watched him move around the kitchen.

Steve caught him staring and put his hands on his hips. “What?”

“You’re just sooo handsome,” Eddie cooed, “I’d eat you for breakfast instead.” He snapped his teeth and Steve snorted and rolled his eyes as he closed the distance between them.

“Probably healthier to eat french toast,” he said. Hands on the counter at either side of Eddie’s knees, Steve looked up at Eddie. “And Robin would kill you for killing me.”

Clicking his tongue, Eddie tilted his head in agreement. “Yep. Probably. She’d have to enact some sort of best friend revenge clause if I murdered you and I don’t think I want to incur the Wrath of Buckley.”

“I don’t recommend it. She’s clumsy but if she does manage to land a hit she can kinda pack a punch.”

Eddie leaned in and wiggled his eyebrows, letting out a low, suggestive hum. “So do you,” he said, and even though Steve rolled his eyes again he also smiled. He barely had to tip his chin up to reach Eddie’s lips, and they traded a few kisses in the quiet morning sunlight. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, his hands inevitably finding their way into Steve’s hair.

They were both so distracted that they didn’t notice someone walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, brochachos,” Argyle said cheerily, and Steve and Eddie jumped away from each other, red faced and wide eyed. “Oh shit, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt the love fest!”

“Wh-huh?” Eddie said eloquently.

“It’s—uh,” Steve followed up.

Robin peered around the doorway next. “You two done or are you gonna burn breakfast?”

“It’s not gonna burn, Robs,” Steve frowned, but then said, “wait. Why aren’t you freaking out?”

The flat look Robin gave him made Eddie snort, even if it was kind of about him, too. “You’re kidding, right? I had my suspicions, Steve, but last night confirmed everything. You couldn’t keep your eyes off each other all night, it was ridiculous. And then the whole, ‘can you help me grab something from inside’ thing was the most obvious excuse ever.”

“And you didn’t come back down after that,” Nancy said as she and Jonathan walked in. “Morning, Eddie.”

“Uh. Uh-huh. Good morning. So, hold on, none of you care?” Eddie asked.

“Like I said, kind of already knew. We were just waiting for you to tell us,” Robin said as she poured coffee into two mugs. “I gotta tell Vickie exactly how right I was, be right back. And the french toast is burning, Steve.” Steve swore and jogged over to the stove.

Jonathan pulled a mug out of the cupboard as he spoke next. “I think it’s great you guys are boyfriends. It’s a good fit, y’know?”

Eddie’s heart thumped and he looked at Steve, who turned around from trying to save the first batch of breakfast from incendiary doom. Steve’s cheeks were a little red, and he was smiling shyly. Shrugged a bit, like a question. Beaming at him, Eddie said, “Yeah. Boyfriends. I think it’s great too.”

Dividers by @/saradika and @/cafekitsune

#matchingbatbites #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #niko's notes

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lynxindisguise · 11 months ago

Text

*sniffs air* is that... pisces season?!? wishing the happiest of birthdays to the dampest of them all @spindrifters! the boys are dressing appropriately for the occasion...

"Happy Valentine's Day, Moons."

The box is deceptively non-threatening: plain cardboard tied with gold ribbon. But Sirius has that all too familiar glint in his eyes, the one that once meant they'd be spending the evening in detention.

Lips pressed together, Remus holds his husband's gaze as he opens the box—slowly, just in case something jumps out at him.

Inside is a simple, olive green corset. Soft, sturdy suede with delicate embroidery along the edges. "Not really your style, is it?"

"No." Sirius smirks. "It's yours. It's for you."

"You want me to wear this?"

"Desperately."

Remus sighs, suddenly nostalgic for the year he was gifted 'moon' themed boxers. "That isn't a present, Pads; that's torture."

"Oh, just try it."

"What's it going to suck in? My ribs?"

"It'll be good for your posture."

"My posture?" He cracks a grin. "Made you wear corsets in your Pureblood etiquette classes, did they?"

Ignoring his question, Sirius removes the corset from the box and sets about loosening the laces for him. "Take off your jumper."

Resigned to his fate, he peels off his jumper with far less enthusiasm than he was hoping would be the case tonight.

He's left winded just from yanking the corset over his shoulders. Sirius tuts and gently pulls it the rest of the way down for him.

"As a proud member of the working class, I thought you'd appreciate a front-lace one. I can still help lace you up though... if you like..." His fingers run teasingly up his front, toying with the laces.

"Not too tight," Remus grumbles. "I'll get light-headed."

"Don't worry; we'll get you a fainting couch."

His scowl gives way to a gasp as Sirius tugs, exposing a bit more give at his belly than he was expecting. Those elegant fingers work their way up slowly, reverently, lips pouted in concentration. The strange intimacy of it momentarily distracts him from the way his spine is straightening, shoulders rolling back.

"Moony!" Sirius exclaims as he ties off the laces in a perfect bow. "Are you actually taller than me? Are those shoulders I see?"

He rolls his eyes and hunches instinctively—or he tries to, but the corset doesn't allow it.

"I'm not taking the piss," Sirius insists. "You look so fucking fit, Moons. Makes me want to fuck you in a haystack or something. Come look at yourself."

Sirius drags him to the mirror—a place he generally ignores.

It isn’t horrible. His shoulders and chest do look broader, creating the illusion of a v-shape. And the colour suits him, and he supposes, on the whole, he feels rather… pretty. It's a silly thought, even sillier for inciting a prickle behind his eyes.

“Knew you’d like it,” Sirius says, annoyingly smug.

“It’s alright.” He shrugs. “Do you want me to wear this tonight, then?”

“No, keep it on.”

Sometimes he forgets that he married a madman. “I’m not wearing this to dinner.”

“Wear your jumper over it.” Sirius hands him back his jumper, and he knows there’s no arguing it.

He consults the mirror to see how ridiculous he looks, only to find that he simply seems more… erect. Confident, even.

“Oh will you just admit you like it?”

“It’s… surprisingly comfortable,” he concedes.

Sirius snorts. “I’ll get you a prettier one for your birthday. One with little bows and lace maybe. Or shiny teal one. Make you feel like a... sexy grindylow.”

“A sexy grindylow.”

“Yes.”

“You want to fuck a sexy grindylow?”

“I mean…” Sirius laces their fingers together, teeth grazing his lower lip. "Do you think Jeff would go for it?"

Remus shakes his head, desperately jostling away the image of Sirius and his grindylow godfather before plucking a kiss from his lips.

Sirius beams, gorgeous and glowing. "Happy Valentine's Day, Remus."

"Happy Valentine's Day, love. Are you ready for your present now?"

And well, Sirius isn't the only one with a telling glint of mischief in his eyes.

His husband arches a knowing brow. "Am I?"

He struggles to keep a straight face as he hands him the box, watching the first crackle of laughter cross Sirius's face as he opens it.

They both break as he lifts the collar—red with gold spikes—from the box, doubling over at the sight of the heart-shaped tag bearing Remus's contact information.

"I hate you," Sirius wheezes, wiping tears from the crinkled corners of his eyes.

"I love you too, darling." He smirks. "Do you need help putting it on?"

#wishing a very merry zomas to you all #wolfstar #lace him up #zo tag

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wayfayrr · 1 year ago

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aaaaaaahhh all i can think of is like- most isekai fics I've seen for some reason [i mean understandably] the reader is wearing their pajamas, but after visiting the modern world they can finally show the chain what they actually like wearing, [i can see this going in so many ways, depending on who is reacting, and especially depending on what aesthetic the reader likes to dress in. for the sake of the request ill keep it as dark academia, cause i love it so muchhhh [not so much in the summer, but i make it work lol] with time? [just imagining reader with a tie and just wearing business casual w a trenchcoat frrrrrrrr- might draw this kind of thing and send it to you lol]

Anon I hope you know this ask had me in an absolute chokehold. OUJDFNBJNF ✨I LIVE FOR DARK ACADEMIA AESTHETICS!!!✨ My trenchcoat is one of my favourite things I own. So I get your pain in summer as well 🥹

“Hey Time, have you seen Wild anywhere? He borrowed my laptop and I really need it back.”

“I haven’t sorry [nam]-... Is that what you wear normally? You look incredible.”

“Pretty much, yeah? Why, is there an issue with it?”

Time’s blushing. Is what I’m wearing really that impressive because I know he’s not blushing over what I’m wearing being revealing. A trenchcoat that goes down to my calves with the rest of my clothes? Does he just think I’m attractive or something?

“No, no issue. You look good in it, it’s just very different to what you arrived in Hyrule wearing.”

“I know, like I said then those were my pyjamas. These are my casual clothes.”

Well, his blush has only gotten worse from that, so he is clearly struggling with how my clothes look on me. Dark academia doesn’t exist in Hyrule I know that, but really he’s struggling far more than anyone else has with my fashion sense.

“Do you think you could help me choose some clothes like that? I’d like to match wit.. I think that style would suit me.”

“If you’d like, we can go shopping for you later. After I get my laptop back and finish off this report I have due.”

Laughing at how he's stumbling over himself to ask me these questions simply isn't an option, no matter how hard it is to hold myself back. He's asking so genuinely and so sweetly and who knows maybe getting some new clothes could help him adjust to this world more easily, I mean it certainly helped me when I was in Hyrule. How different could it be for time?

It didn't take too long to find wild after talking to time, and even less to finish off the work I had to do, now it’s just down to taking time shopping.

“So you want to look like you belong with a shot of espresso in an artisanal coffee shop while writing a research paper?”

“I only know what half of those words mean [name.], even less with how you’re using them.”

“Right, sorry. I’m still getting used to all of the differences in our cultures. Hopefully, you’ll get more used to the terms we use here sooner rather than later. Ready to go out though?”

“I am, it’ll be nice to get some new clothes. Not that I’m complaining about the excuse to wear yours.”

The nearest place that sells things like these isn’t exactly the closest to where I live, making it the perfect opportunity to adjust Time to my world’s transport. Well, more than he’s already seen anyway. Actually, now that I’m thinking about this, what size clothing even is he? Not that it’s an issue but not knowing a vague size is gonna mean he’s going to have to try on a lot of different fits. Then finding the right colours for him is a whole different challenge… And we’re already here… Time to find out the answers to those questions of mine.

“Where would you like to start?”

“A coat exactly like yours perhaps?”

“I don’t see why not. Any colour in mind or just the same style?”

A shrug was NOT what I wanted as an answer, but he does know what he wants which means that I’ve got somewhere to start. Trench Coats are somewhat pricey but with how some of the others are chipping in towards living costs now there’s no issue with spending out occasionally. He seems to be gravitating more towards things that are similar to mine, isn’t that charming? He sees something he likes on me then decides that’s what he wants for himself hopefully, he just stays away from the expensive ones.

“You ready to try those on then, old man?”

“Just a moment more love, I can’t find quite the right colour yet.”

He just… How red is my face right now? It has to be crimson, doesn’t it? That’s the first time Time’s ever called me something like that naturally it’s when he’s looking at clothes like my own, is he trying to kill me with his charms?

#starting uni soon and you can guess what my aesthetic will be #It doesn't help the place I'm likely going fits it so well #links✦react #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #moss✦answers #lu time

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finniestoncrane · 2 years ago

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Finnie...

Gotham Zsasz w a little goth partner who has to wear platforms to make them look taller. How would our bbg Victor react?

Short!Goth!Reader

Gotham!Zsasz Headcanons eep ok i am tall and i am only goth adjacent but this was SO cute to think about! spoiler: he'd love it 🖤🔪 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff, teensy mention of blood/knife play

ok so he's average height, not like super tall but not short either

so he'd probably still tower over you, which is great for him

gives him a bit of a boost, makes him feel more dominant

but it helps his caring instincts kick in, not that he has much of an instinct for that

but with you it's a bit different, he's willing to display affection and love

and all those other emotions that he finds it difficult to feel for any other person

especially because you seem perfectly suited to him

i mean for starters, your aesthetics match pretty well

he's into the darker things, he dresses almost exclusively in black or dark colours himself

though he prefers somethign sleeker, he's not adverse to some chunky boots or big buckles, fancy rings or spike adornments

so you'd definitely look perfectly matched walking along with him

and he'd be obsessed with putting on your jewellery and accessories, and taking them off again

and he'd be enthusiastic about you getting tattoos or using makeup to match his tally marks too (he's weirdly precious about you not hurting yourself at all so no carving)

(although, in saying that if you were keen to indulge in some knife or blood play he would definitely supervise you or adorn you in some very light grazes... just saying)

but ANYWAY

the other thing that makes you perfect for him is definitely your height

and the fact that you're willing to put on some chunky boots or cute heels to try and match his height too

but you don't need to, because he's very well aware of the fact that very mean things can be concealed in very small packages

#finnie writes #victor zsasz #gotham zsasz #victor zsasz x reader #gotham #gotham fox #batman rogues #rogues gallery #zsasz x reader #victor zsasz fanfic #gotham!verse #gotham!zsasz

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g-girlshavingfun · 16 days ago

Text

December Prompts

21) White silk - Abby & Joe

Set during Rachel and Matt’s wedding, a decade and a half before the events of LYKY, Abby and Joe meet properly for the first time. (3,337)

———————————————————————

Joe was nursing a drink at the bar, watching in the reflection of the bartender’s glasses as Matt spun his laughing bride under his arm, when he sensed someone take a seat in the stool beside him.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing all on your own?”

Without turning to look at her, he could hear the flirtatious lilt to her tone, the smile in her voice. There was no hint of nerves or hesitation, an abnormality in girls who try to chat him up, his oppressive and gloomy aura typically setting the ladies on edge according to his best friend. She sounded familiar, which wasn’t unexpected given that there weren’t many regulars in Matt and Rachel’s lives who he wasn’t at least aware of, but he couldn’t quite place the musical voice. He set down his drink, immediately alert. Despite the vigorous security measures Rachel and himself had set in place, there was always a chance that an enemy operative had slipped through the cracks and decided to gatecrash the wedding.

“Seriously, shouldn’t you be out there, wooing the ladies on the dance floor?”

His tone was cold and disinterested, “I don’t woo-”

“Clearly.”

“-and I don’t dance.”

“Bummer, there goes my plan for us to upstage the happy couple with a perfect Vietnamese Waltz.” An instinctual huff of amusement crept out his nose at the image conjured up in his mind. Matt’s reaction should Joe break out in a perfect waltz with some random girl, Rachel’s reaction if said performance managed to outshine the couple’s first dance. He could hear the smile in the girl’s voice grow at his small laugh. “No seriously, why’s the Best Man hiding away in the shadows of the bar?”

A manicured set of nails gently rested on his arm, cool fingertips barley tactile beneath his thick suit jacket, and he sensed a warm body leaning close to his, a hint of jasmine invading his senses. Joe’s muscles tensed in preparation for a standoff. Were it a male operative sent to infiltrate the occasion, he could’ve instigated a fight and passed it off as a drunken brawl, got them both swiftly escorted from the ballroom and dealt with the infiltrator out of sight of Matt’s civilian family and friends. As it were, navigating the removal of a woman from the event would have to be managed with more care lest one of those well-meaning civilians tried to step in and interject.

Though his hips and torso and neck remained rammed straight, his eyes flitted from where he had been keeping an eye on the happy couple, their guests milling harmlessly around then, to the target sat beside him.

Oh. Nevermind.

Matt always said he was too paranoid.

“Why’s the Maid of Honour interrogating me instead of lining up for the bouquet toss?”

No wonder her voice had sounded familiar, not only did it carry the same city drawl as Rachel and her mother’s, but he had heard it give a much funnier, much more charming speech than his own just a few hours ago.

The woman, girl, sat beside him was adorned in an emerald green, satin bridesmaid dress, the colour presumably picked by Rachel with her younger sister in mind with how it matched her eyes, how it complimented the darkness of hair. Head tilted slightly to the side, a curious smirk pulled at her pink-painted lips, golden eyelids flickering flirtatiously at him. He leaned back ever so slightly, the effort to increase the distance between them making her smile soften slightly, her own posture adjusting to mirror his. Removing her fingers from his arm, she wrapped her hand around his drink instead and slowly slid it towards her, gaze never leaving his.

“Bouquet toss isn’t for another hour, and you wont catch me lining up for one of those anytime soon. Besides, who said anything about an interrogation?” Shooting him a wink, she lifted the glass to her lips and took a generous sip. He chuckled, though her efforts were admirable, he could still see a flicker of a grimace creeping along her features at the bourbon’s taste. “You don’t mind do you, the bartender knows I’m not quite 21, but I fear this evening’s going to drag if I don’t get a drink or two.”

Signalling for the bartender to bring him a glass of champagne, he took his own glass back from her, her tight grip turning weak when her own drink, more to her tastes Joe assumed, started being prepared.

“Joe,” He held out a hand to her in greeting, Matt’s many hours spent trying to teach him manners finally paying off. Her grip was firm around his, the pretty smile on her face growing as she gave it a formal shake.

“Abby.”

He knew that.

“Think the bride's going to kill me for buying her underage sister a drink?”

“What Rach doesn’t know wont hurt her.” Another wink. Another huff of amusement. There wasn’t much Rachel Cameron, Rachel Morgan, didn’t know, and they were both very aware of this. “Besides, 19 is basically legal.” Her smile had turned mischievous, dangerous. “So how do you know Matt?”

The well-practiced answer slipped out of his mouth easily. “Used to be roommates back when I was a destitute student. Now-” Her words caught up with his ears, brain catching up with his mouth. Pausing, he assessed her, shook his head, “You’re not 19.”

Something like offence graced her face. If Joe didn’t know better, he would’ve felt compelled to take it back, to apologise. As it was, he was quite certain in his deduction, and instead was just mildly impressed at her acting, by her facade. “You don’t think I look 19?”

“I know you’re not 19.” If she was 19 she’d already be working with the CIA, with him and Matt and her sister, by now. “Rachel’s always talking about how you’re doing in school.”

A delicate blush spread across her cheeks. “Oh well, yeah.” Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze to her feet, tone and volume dropping as she nervously fiddled with the stem of the champagne glass set before her by the bartender. Muttering a God this is embarrassing, under her breath, she seemed to brace herself before looking back up at him and giving him a little self-deprecating shrug. “I was held back a year or two. No big deal, just family stuff.”

Was she?

Joe didn’t remember Rachel mentioning anything about that, not that he was sure she would. He knows from her complaining that Abby is a bit of a troublemaker, knows from Matt that the girl and their mother don’t get along, knows from his observations that Mr Cameron had passed away long ago. Still, he didn’t know of anything in their family lives that could warrant her being held back, especially at a school like hers.

“You go to Gallagher, no way were you held back”

“You know what school I go to?”

He knew its name. He knew its cover. He knew the type of women it could produce.

“I know a lot about your school.” It slipped out before he could think. If he were a less secure man, he would blame his loose tongue on the drink, on the festivities of the day. As it was, he knew when to admit he was beat, and it turns out Abigail Cameron had done it. She had her brother-in-law's way of making him lower his guard, had her sister's way of making him a fool, had her own way of twisting up a web of lies for him to untangle in an effort to make him slip. He was ashamed of himself, of his espionage skills, for how easily it worked.

“So that’s how you know Matt.” The smile that stretched across her face was blinding. Eyes alight with pride and excitement, teeth glinting in the muted lights of the bar, body almost dancing with the glee of outsmarting an operative. Joe just blinked at her, tried not to git his teeth. “You work together. You must do if you know a lot about my school.”

He heaved a heavy sigh. Leave it to Rachel’s little sister to make a fool out of him at a wedding. He consoled himself with a generous trip of his drink, a wry smile catching at his mouth. “Not an interrogation huh?” Laughter bubbling from her lips, she went to take a sip of her own drink before Joe snatched it from her hands, ignoring the pitiful noise of protest she made. Holding the glass out of her reach, he raised a singular eyebrow at her in preparation for his own interrogation. He wouldn’t be outdone by a teenager. “You’re not 21, and you’re not 19.”

“Not yet.” Tone reluctant, she shrugged her shoulders, still making child-like grabby hands at the drink he had confiscated.

“If you want the drink, tell me how old you actually are. If I even think you’re lying I drop the glass on the ground and tell your mother you’re scamming guests into buying you drinks.”

“I cannot tell you how much my mother wont care.”

“Rachel then.”

She blinked at that, swallowed, face losing a bit of its colour. In unison, they both turned to where the bride was still occupied with her husband on the dance floor. She looked stunning. White silk draped itself around her torso, her waist, her hips, flowing like water over her legs as she twirled around the room, her smile and laughter and joy reflected on the faces of all those who looked at her. Matt looked almost as good. His suit was perfectly fitted, clinging to the muscles Joe knew he had been working on in the gym since long before he gathered the courage to propose, the material dark and accented with a soft blue. Looking back at Abby, he saw a ghost of a smile on her face as she watched them, her sister’s laugh carrying through the air to where they secluded themselves in the corner. She shook her head, turned back to him and rolled her eyes, seemingly conceding to his own tactics.

“Fine, I’m 15.” Seeing the way he blinked, the way he still hesitated to pass the drink back, she hurriedly expanded upon her statement. “But I turn 16 in a few weeks! And mother really doesn't care if I get my hands on a drink or two, and you don’t look like a champagne man so it’ll just go to waste if you don’t give it back.”

Eyes wide and tone a bit desperate, carrying a whining twinge to it, it was suddenly so obvious to Joe that she was just a kid.

Still, he wasn’t her father, wasn’t her brother, and certainly didn’t wait until he was 21 to start drinking himself, so he just rolled his eyes and handed the glass back to her.

Joe had to admit, she was good for her age, but she was Rachel’s sister. She needed to be better if his friend was going to trust that she’d be safe when she inevitably joined Langley. “If you’re keeping information from someone, don’t ever want something more than you want to keep that information secret. If you do, don’t ever let them know what it is or they’ll use it against you.”

“Okay Gandalf.” Taking a swig from her glass, he would’ve thought her to be ignoring him based on her mocking tone and the roll of her eyes, but her body had tensed, leaning towards him again, eyes lit up with interest. He smirked, a bit smug about having her hanging onto his words.

“And if you do cave and answer their question, only answer their question. Don’t go around volunteering more information than what was specifically asked for, because they might not have known to ask about it.” Then, because he might not have been her brother but his best friend was, he gave her a bit of life advice as well. “You know if you’re 15, you shouldn’t be flirting with grown men at bars.”

“You’re barely older than me!”

“I’m 23 Abby.”

“Age is but a number, what’s 7 years difference really?”

He rolled his eyes at the fake whimsy in her voice, shook his head at her wide eyed gaze, smiled at the laughter in her eyes. Fairly certain she was kidding now, he pushed her stool back with his foot as she tried to lean further towards him, chuckling at the pout which adorned her face. “I see they don’t teach much math at that school of yours.”

“I told you, I’m basically 16.”

“You’re basically a fetus.” Confident enough now that she was only playing with him, he shot her a smirk, lowered his voice to an artificial leer. “Besides, your sister and brother-in-law would kill me.”

Laughing in delight at him playing her game, she threw her head back as he just shook his, both of them losing themselves for a moment.

Suddenly, he felt a burning heat on his back. Turning to its source, he caught both Matt and Rachel looking in their direction. Rachel was watching them discreetly in the reflection of the ballroom windows, eyes curious, while Matt was less covert with his narrowed gaze. Nodding at them, he turned his smile into something more reassuring, pleased with the way they both relaxed at the gesture, at the way they refocused on getting lost in one another.

He would’ve continued watching them, would’ve continued celebrating their union and the unparalleled joy they brought to each other, when Abby’s inquisitive tone broke through through his thoughts.

“So, which one of them are you in love with?”

What?

“What?”

“Look, I’m a pretty girl-”

“You’re a child.”

“-and I’m delightful company. Or at the very least, navigating a conversation with me tends to require a lot of attention, especially for cagey operatives trying to hold their cards close to their chests.” A near perfect imitation of his voice, his accent and its depth, left her mouth as he tried to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “But in the past 10 minutes your attention has drifted from me to the happy couple at least 8 times. Your face does this weird pinching thing whenever whenever you look at them, and just now you flinched ever so slightly when I said happy couple.”

He scoffed, shook his head, confused by the way his heart was hammering in his chest. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Joe had no idea what she was talking about.

Matt was his best friend, Matt was a guy, and Rachel was Matt’s wife. It was as simple as that.

“You don’t even know do you?” Something in his blood started boiling, something in his muscles clammed up with tension, something in him was seconds away from snapping when he recognised the look in her eyes as sympathetic. Recognised the smile on her face as something sad. Seeing his teeth grind together and his fists clench, she stripped the sympathy from her face, tone turning dismissive and defensive. “Whatever, I’m going to figure it out eventually.”

No. It wasn’t whatever. She was playing with him again. Manipulating him. She had to be.

“You’re fabricating observations to lull me into a state of insecurity, make me think you’re about to figure me out. It’s a common interrogation tactic to make subjects reveal things they wouldn’t otherwise.” Anger rippled through his body and his words, nearly growling at the girl as he began to lean up and over her, towering over where she sat. In fairness to her, she didn’t even flinch, just kept looking up at him in contemplation, her expression remarkably similar to her sister’s. “It’s a good try, but it’s not going to work because there’s no secret, nothing to reveal. Matt and Rachel are my friends, my best friends.”

“Hmmm.” Head cocked to the side, she blinked up at him innocently, nodding thoughtfully as she hummed. “When I figure out which one it is I’ll let you know, you seem like you’re in some pretty deep denial over there, wouldn’t want the realisation to come out of nowhere and shock the pretty out of you.”

Chest heaving, clenched hands shaking, he loomed over her in rage as her flirtatious tone returned. “Stop that! They’ll be no realisation, there’s nothing to realise. They’re like my family, my only family, and that’s it. I get that you’re a naive little kid who’s too young to get that yet, but-”

A suited arm wrapping around the girl’s shoulders and neck and pulling her back from him cut Joe off.

Matt’s face was unimpressed, eyebrows knitted together in confusion and eyes ablaze with protective concern. He tugged Abby into his side in a half hug, careful of her hair’s updo and the delicate fall of her dress, her head tilting back to shoot him a smile, clearly unaffected by Joe’s burst of rage. Taking a moment to scan the room, he felt relief fill him as he saw the white silk of the bride’s wedding dress on the other side of the grand hall, her back angled towards them and her ears far too far away to catch his angry tone. He needn’t have bothered looking, he was fairly sure if Rachel had caught him towering over and snarling at her little sister like that he’d have a bullet through his skull before he could gather the foresight to apologise.

“She’s not bothering you is she Joe? Careful, she’s prickly.” Though his tone was casual, his teasing words aimed towards Abby, Joe got the hint pretty quickly and moved back, took a deep breath to cool off. “First time I met her she pointed a gun in my face.”

Abby just grinned up at him, driving an elbow into his ribs. “I thought you were a burglar you asshole.”

“Ouch Abs, see what I mean man, prickly.” Another jab to his side had him laughing, loud and free and so Matt. “Think I can I steal her for spin round the dance floor Joe?”

“Oh look, two men making a woman’s decisions for her, that’s new.” Her words were mumbled under her breath, only the small smirk pulling at her lips giving away her lack of real annoyance. Looking back up at Matt, she raised her voice again. “You could just ask me you know.”

“My dearest apologies Lady Cameron, will you ever forgive me?” Bowing dramatically at her side, he reached for a manicured hand and pressed an exaggerated kiss to the back of it, grinning with pride when the girl giggled lightly at his antics. Straightening up as she swatted at him, the man shot him a wink. “Joe, the dance?”

“As long as it’s a Vietnamese Waltz.”

“A what now?”

Abby laughed at him, accepting Joe’s apologetic smile with a shrug and a smile of her own. Downing the rest of her drink, she jumped up from her stool and took Matt by the hand, dragging him towards the heavily populated dance floor. “C’mon Farm boy, time for your Culture and Assimilation lesson.”

“My what?”

“Just come. I’ll see you around Joseph Solomon, thanks for the drink.”

The grin she shot him was wide and blinding, the wink that accompanied it as cheeky as they came. He could only huff out a breath of laughter, caught off guard and disarmed from the entire interaction. Unsure where his brief burst of anger had stemmed from, why it burned through him so intensely, he tried to dispel the girl’s words from his memory.

It was all nonsense anyway.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he finished off his drink and followed them across the room, continuing with his walk when they paused for Abby to adjust Matt’s grip on her waist, making his way towards Rachel.

Suddenly, he found he would quite like a dance with her.

———————————————————————

Authors note:

Abby: Hey, did you know you’re in love?

Joe: Wtf are you talking about no I’m not. Stfu.

16 years later

Joe: So about that…

Maybe he had a thing for Matt as well, or even instead at the time, or maybe it was always Rachel, that’s up for your interpretation. Abby simply didn’t want to make assumptions.

#gallagher girls #gallagher girls series #gallagher girls fanfiction #december prompts #writing prompts #abigail cameron #abby cameron #Joe Solomon #joseph solomon

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universe-friday · 11 months ago

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EXCERPT #16:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening…

Ok, no, I know what you’re thinking.

You think I sound weird.

Well, not weird, I hope but… New! A little different…?

I’m trying something out here, and it feels pretty right. It still feels like me, it still sounds like me.

Thalia has been trying to teach me to step a little more out of my comfort zone… And, she already got me to do that when I searched the clubs for her, so why not listen?

We have been hanging out a lot recently, not much else to do in the City, especially being alone.

I’ve just been inspired by her, old sport.

Her voice just sounds like falling asleep on fresh, new bed sheets for the first time… Sinking more and more into the mattress with every word…

I wanted to sound like that. So, I hope you’re feeling comfortable, old sport…!

It can be harder sometimes though, days where I sink into that mattress… But I start to dream about you again, February, as her voice fades into yours.

Your voice is the one I ultimately fall asleep to February, but I can’t stand to only hear you in my dreams anymore. I just want to truly hear your voice again, with your comfort and touch as a package deal… It’s been so, so long.

[…]

You would really like Thalia, February.

You’d just love her. She’s really helping me open up, something you always wanted me to do. But, I suppose, the City is a better place to do so. We would never want me to burn as bright as you ever did; to steal your spotlight. Thank you for hiding me in your shadow… if only you would turn around now, February.

While I got to explore the City day by day, discovering its secrets so few people know of… I never seemed to do the one thing I could do in the City… explore who I am. So many people don’t know me… But do I even know me?

I have a funny little anecdote for you, February.

Thalia has so many variations of this dress - a floral dress, of different colours, lengths and styles.

[Chuckles softly] Perhaps I should be taking notes with my suits…

She showed me so many different ones, yet I had my eyes fixed on this beautiful white dress with blue flowers… it had these frilly, long sleeves and the skirt would flow all the way down to your ankles.

She insisted I try it on.

I won’t lie, I felt a little silly. Not because I’m used to my suit, no… but I did have my gloves on still, of course. They did not match the dress.

You would've been proud of me though, February. Right? I don’t know why I did it though… I swore to myself no one would’ve ever been able to get me out of my usual style. I like my style! But there’s something so liberating about twirling around in a dress, a sense of freedom. Just how a suit gives me that boost of confidence.

You always did care about your clothes, February. You were right, I get it now. You’re always right.

Do you feel free, February? Up there, in the sky, with all of those other shining stars. They do say the sky is the limit… But when you’re there, what else is there to stop you?

You know what’s funny? People say the sky is full of freedom, and they say the same about the City… yet, have you ever noticed that the places said to be full of freedom seem to feel the least free? Perhaps the idea of ‘being free’ is just having too many options. And no one is ever going to agree with every single one.

While no one in the City would ever care enough to judge, the freedom almost feels too free… do you understand me, February? You have the opportunity to do anything you ever wanted to do, but no one to praise you. No one to care. Is it worth it…?

If only you could see me too, February. Would you think of me as pretty? Handsome?

Or am I just me?

[...]

NOTE: as inspired by the week #1 prompts of february friday events as organised by @februaryfridayevents! this week's themes were voice / freedom / expression ... these were super fun to explore!

if you are curious as to how i interpreted these into this week's excerpt, i have posted a behind the scenes here on @friday-answers! go check it out!

as always, see you next week!

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freshmangojuice · 2 years ago

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In 1993, Danny John-Jules wore this iconic costume in the Red Dwarf episode 'Gunmen of the Apocalypse'

It's such a beautiful costume, I wanted to know where it came from. So I did some digging. This is what I found out... (long post)

To preface, this post is about Mexican cultural dress and design. I am not Mexican and I have no Mexican connections so my existing knowledge is very limited. So although this stuff is new to me, it might be really obvious in general. If you happen to have more insight, please share!

Firstly, there is no information about the Riviera Kid costume itself other than the fact it was thought to be too small for Danny (it was, but luckily he looks good in tight clothes), and was rented for the shoot, which means it was not the work of our beloved Howard Burden.

But whoever made it must have gotten the idea from somewhere, the costume is clearly Mexican-inspired. But do we get that sense because of Hollywood, or is it legitimate cultural dress appropriate for the time period the episode was trying to represent? WELL! Let's see!

To start with, the image below is a gorgeous mariachi suit designed by contemporary Los Angeles tailor Jorge Tello.

Note the four symmetrical faux pockets with embellishment surrounding them, and the same continuous pattern bordering the edges of the jacket as well as patches on the upper arms and going down the side of the pants. And of course the big floppy bow tie. Excepting the details in colour, fasteners, and the decoration, this is the same as the Riviera Kid in terms of shape and style. Okay so it's mariachi dress!

I also found out that this specific suit is called traje de charro and is the traditional dress for horsemen in Mexico, now worn mostly by mariachi performers but also anyone for heritage events like festivals. And its origins come from Salamanca in Spain, though the evolution has brought it a long way from the 16th century. More on that later.

To back this up there are also a lot of results for cheaper costumes that actually have similar designs to the Riviera Kid with the squiggle appliqué.

But these are recent designs, with Tello's from around 2013. Gunmen of the Apocalypse was supposed to represent the 1880s (or thereabouts), is there anything older? Where does the squiggle design actually come from? WELL! (again)

Tracing back the decades, I managed to find some strikingly similar pieces. Including this jacket made in Mexico and worn by Alice Cooper in the 1970s. Yes, the rockstar Alice Cooper.

This jacket is VERY similar to the Riviera kid, down to the four corner knot motif on the arms, the squiggles, and even the fasteners are done in the same braiding technique. Clearly this is the jacket that inspired the one worn in Red Dwarf. Or was it...?

This one was worn by the actor Guy Williams in 1958 and was likely designed by Hollywood costumer Chuck Keehne. It is exactly the same as the one from the 70s. Like, exactly the same. Which leads me to believe the Alice Cooper one was copied from this design.

However, we have to look at the context. The jacket above was made for an actor in a movie (The Sign of Zorro) in the 1950s, and if it was indeed Chuck Keehne behind it, that guy was born in Missouri. Not much there to legitimise the design as Mexican. Nor is there much to suggest historical accuracy since the movie is meant to take place in the 1820s and they looked like this in it.

(Guy Williams and Britt Lomond in The Sign of Zorro)

I can tell you right now that yes the military uniform is pretty 1820s. The details are off, but the silhouette is there, the cut of the jacket is there, the right buttons are there, the right pistol is there. We are in the 1820s. So I have reason to believe that the military uniform, for which I have many references for, is just as historically accurate as the flashy charro. Surely, right?

Eh, not quite. Because after digging some more I'm sorry to say I doubt the squiggle design and sharp cut of the jacket is as old as the 1820s. That just isn't realistic for how fashion changed over time, and I have also found things like this photograph.

Taken in the 1860s, the two men look fabulous, but the man on the left is wearing what appears to be a suit that will eventually evolve into what we see later on. The decorated legs, the length of the jacket and gap in the closure is about all the similarities I can find. So obviously 1820s is very optimistic for what we're talking about.

Which are suits like this!

These lovely ladies were photographed in Mexico c. 1918–29 and they're wearing the squiggles! The jacket of the lady on the right has vertical pockets which is so fascinating to me, but the lady on the left has exactly what I've been looking for all this time. She has the squiggles, the four pockets, the round decorated collar. It's stunning. And it's the earliest version of the design that I can confirm. All that's missing is the four cornered knots, but I'm assuming that comes in 1950s and may even be a celtic reference.

Unfortunately, that's the end of the 'I'm pretty sure this is accurate information' thread, but I've also found other vintage jackets that have been sold online.

The two on the left are listed as being from the 1940s, and the one of the right is listed as a women's matador jacket from the 1920s. How true those claims are I cannot know, their provenance is not given.

Though it would seem that the design that inspired the Riviera Kid is definitely more 20th century. And it's surprising to me how common it actually is! So although it may be a fabrication for the time period, it is very true to life for actual traditional dress and it's not completely made up!

TL;DR

The Riviera Kid costume took inspiration, along with other costume work, from actual Mexican fashion that originate no earlier than the 1910s, although those fashions can trace its roots to around the 1860s, which can trace its roots to Spain in the 1500s.

#pinterest and reverse image search have been my friends this week so shoutout to them #I was an art historian but damn maybe I should'a been a fashion historian idk #red dwarf #red dwarf cat #fmj #fmj: text

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