#this applies to dicks as well in case youre wondering

[dolcinos]

i have usuk size kink brainrot all the time but it gets especially prevalent when i think about them after alfred porks up, lol.

big, tall, fat american and his scrawny, short british bf send tweet

[seilon]

pro: ran into a coworker at a bar last night who I don’t really talk to usually (he works upstairs, I work downstairs) and we talked and im pretty sure we were highkey flirting and he bought me a drink and the bar merch shirt i was interested in and thanks to the power of alcohol i guess i asked for his number and he gladly gave it to me and. yeah

con: i have the second worst hangover i have ever had and have been fighting for my fucking life just to eat saltines

[kamiversee]

that blurb u posted but decided to take out of the chapter literally me giggling, kicking my feet, and rolling around in my bed omfg Kami please YOU KNOWWWWW HOW CHOSO GETS MEEEEEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-☃️

Well if that’s the case, here’s a blurb I deleted from the Christmas chapter…

It was after sex w Choso but he was eager for more, yes things are missing but it’s just a blurb ><

Here’s 1k words of Choso thirsting for you. It’s smut btw, just not finished so you may feel edged in the end :3

“That’s what the fuck I thought,” Choso scoffs and then goes back to what he was doing, parting your legs nice and wide enough for his head to go between them.

Your cunt was already wet again from his moment of being commanding. You didn’t even realize how hot you found that until he pointed it out.

“Damn,” Choso chuckles, “Look at her,” He moves a hand and spreads your folds apart to watch the way your liquids glisten. The tip of his cock leaks at the sight, enough precum flowing out that the male almost thought he was experiencing an orgasm already.

Looking at you made his dick so hard and his mouth was watering like crazy, so much so that he was almost drooling already.

“Choso please don’t talk to my pussy like it’s a person,” You say jokingly.

He bites his lip as he stares at your sex, “I can’t help it, baby. She talks to me so I talk to her.” Choso says before slipping his thumb in between your folds. He doesn’t push it in but instead, collects some of your moisture on his skin, hearing you let out a breath of air, “She’s always so wet f’me… ‘nd soft, ‘nd warm…” He comments.

You release a subtle whine, “S-Stop talking…”

Choso’s thumb slides up to your clit and he applies a little bit of pressure, “Why? She likes it when I talk to her,” He continues.

You bite back any sounds that threaten to come out.

“Look at her,” He murmurs, tipping his head to the side, “You’ miss me, princess?” The way he’s talking makes your body twitch in both embarrassment and arousal, the movement not going unnoticed by Choso, “See? I told you she talks to me.”

“Choso-“ Your voice drowns out when the man moves both of his thumbs to your folds and spreads you apart, quickly pressing his tongue to your wetness. “Mmh… w-wait-“

His tongue swipes up and he presses the muscle down as if to really allow your liquids to simmer on his tongue. Then, he pulls away and sighs, “Y’know, I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet…”

“A-About what?” You whisper, your eyes up on the ceiling as you wonder how you went from thinking about taking a break to here.

Choso takes his hands off you and moves to get off the couch for a minute. “You haven’t noticed something’s missing?” He asked, “Babe, we made out several times already…”

Babe? That’s… new? You ignore it, “Okay…?”

“My feelings are starting to get hurt, y’know…” Choso says with a purposeful pout as he makes his way over to a bag of his. You see him reach into it and then pull out another item, unable to tell exactly what he’s doing due to the lighting.

“I’m confused, what’s missing?” You ask as you start to sit up.

“Don’t move,” Choso voices out. His back is to you so you have no idea how the hell he knew you were repositioning yourself but you freeze and then lay back down, “And now I’m disappointed…”

Your brows furrow, “Cho, just tell me what’s missing?”

You could see his arms moving but you really didn’t know what he was doing. Then, he puts something back into his bag and turns around to you. Choso walks right back over to you and he waits a moment before getting on the couch, simply looking down at you.

You stare up for a moment, glance down at his erection for a moment, a moment longer than intended because his dick is huge, and looking at it distracts you, and then before you even think about looking up, he’s talking.

“Eyes up here, pretty girl,” Choso says.

You glance up and the man then sticks his tongue out. That was when you remembered that cursed piercing of his. The same piercing that’s had you weak all over for quite some time. How could you forget such a thing?

The male closes his mouth and then moves to get on top of you, “Y’know I took it out not too long after I left,” He informs you, “Haven’t put it back in since.” He says, settling in between your legs again.

Your brows furrow, “Why would you-“

His lips press into your cunt abruptly and you let out a breathy sigh. Then, Choso smirks, “Keep talkin’ princess, don’t mind me.”

“I c-can’t talk when you-,” He does it again. This time, his lips part over you and his tongue is slipping in between your folds within seconds, “Fuck…”

There it is, there’s that damn piercing of his tickling you. And it’s fucking cold, contrasting your warmth and making you shudder. Choso licks at your sex a few times before his hands move again. He uses both of his thumbs to spread your folds for a second time and then dives right in.

His tongue smears against your pussy and you can’t help the quiet moan that leaves you. “C-Choso… hah…”

He curls his tongue up as he licks you, forcing your taste into his mouth right before he pulls away to speak, “What? Jus’ give me five minutes…” He grumbles, not even looking up at you as the little taste he got was enough to have him hungry for you, “I missed eating you out so fucking much.” Choso breathes.

You don’t get the chance to respond as his mouth latches onto your cunt again. This time he sucks and slurps your taste into his mouth, gulping loudly and shamelessly as he drinks in your moisture. A groan leaves his throat at the way your taste flows into his mouth and you release a whine.

“Baby…” Choso grunts, “Let me do this til’ you fall asleep.” He requests.

“You said five minutes…”

“I wanna’ eat til’ my jaw locks again.”

Yes, yes he said again. He’s done it before. Three times actually.

“Choso what is up with you? Shouldn’t you be tired?”

He stops for a moment and finally looks up to your eyes, “Baby, let me make you feel good.”

Sorry not sorry for edging y’all w this💀

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Do the Reincarnated girls have a favourite line in the film? Or least favourite (in Mirabel’s case)? - 🌸 anon

Oohhh!! This is something I hadn’t really thought about until now, but they definitely do!

Specifically only doing lines (spoken dialogue), favourite and least favourite lyrics is a whole different ask.

“I thought we would have a different life… I thought I would be a different woman.” - Alma

Not surprising given how close Isabela and Alma were in life, but this is probably something that she actually told Isabela. If not before, definitely after Casita’s fall; when she let down those walls. She really feels for her Abuela. This is probably the one part of the film Isabela takes seriously and will sit quietly through.

In addition, there’s also an added layer of bitter sweetness here as it can be applied to Isabela herself. She had her own dreams and thoughts about what she would be like in the future - Bruno’s vision acting as a beacon of hope as she became weighed down with expectations and perfectionism. Only for it to all go completely wrong and nothing like anyone had predicted for the golden child of the Madrigals.

“ISABELA!?” - Mirabel

Inaccuracy aside, as that is not how Mirabel actually reacted to the vision. Both Bruno (in previous life) and Mirabel have confirmed that was not the case. It hurts to think that she would have believed this was the truth, if she hadn’t been told otherwise. It’s just kind of the realisation that her and Mirabel’s relationship had gotten so bad, that there was so much disgust and hatred in the line. That the idea of hugging her sister could be such an awful thing.

“Dolores, I see you.” - Mariano

She never got to have the love match she wanted, but… it is still something she thinks and dreams about. Ignoring the romance, just getting some recognition and being seen is a wonderful thing and she won’t take it for granted. The film doesn’t spend much time with her (for understandable reasons) but she is very appreciative that they gave her this moment.

“Abuela says, it’s time.” - Dolores

Compared to the other’s least favourite line, this isn’t quite as weighty and honestly is a bit petty. But Disney seriously couldn’t have had her simply whisper “good luck” to Antonio!?!?!? This was a big moment for her brother, who was clearly nervous and in need of some encouragement, and all they have her say to him is this!?!? What the fuck!?

“And when I went to throw the donkeys in the barn, they were… HEAVY!” - Luisa

What were you expecting? Luisa enjoys the more dramatic and comedic lines, they take away some of the sting of the more emotional parts of the movie; and, of course the fact that this is a retelling of how her baby sister died. And she feels Jess really acted the hell out of her lines, giving it so much character and charm, she can’t help but laughing. Even if on the inside she’s like “welp, that was the time I had that really bad panic attack lmao”.

“I gave you the ‘special’ since you’re the only Madrigal kid with no gift. I call it the ‘not special’ special. Since, uh, you have no gift. … Oh, and tell Antonio good luck. Last gift ceremony was a bummer. Last one being yours that didn’t work.” - Osvaldo

This is technically multiple lines but the point still stands, these are the lines Luisa hates the most. Which is saying something given how much she loves the film. Bonus: this is what he actually said to Mirabel. Or, well, the meaning is still the same. And Luisa hates it - she was near earshot at the time when bringing in the wagon. He was an absolute dick. If you were to ask Luisa what was her biggest regret in her first life, it is that she never killed (or at least beaten him up) him when she was still alive.

Nothing. Mirabel has no favourite lines. They all trigger her in some way or they are so neutral/unimportant that she has no emotional attachment to them. As she said in one of the incorrect quotes her favourite part of the script was the simple words of “the end”.

In saying that, she also has no specific line that she hates. She hates all of them with a burning passion and would remove them all if possible. There are definitely some she hates or finds harder to listen to than others (because of the past and PTSD or alternatively they are things Disney added and are completely out of place/inaccurate in her eyes), but there is no exact one.

If you really made her pick, it would probably be literally anything from or about Bruno. Close second is definitely Isabela’s “I NEVER WANTED TO MARRY HIM! I WAS DOING IT FOR THE FAMILY” - if only because Isabela still married a man against her own wishes and ended up dying. It’s horrid.

[oodlyenough]

alright I'm finally playing turnabout succession and despite how many big reveals i'd already been spoiled for the case is still surprising me in parts and clearly going to be quite long so i thought i'd put some thoughts together now

I'm not-quite-finished the MASON system chapter so no spoilers plz

some general notes:

I knew Vera Misham existed but not really anything about her or her father so that whole first trial was fun

I can't believe the glass hand statue I've seen in fanart a million times is the world's least ergonomic nail polish bottle ?!?!? lmfaoo ... nothing like the feeling of sharp crystal fingertips digging into your palms while you apply a... clear topcoat ... okay

Ema popping up in court with a Kristoph impression just to fuck with Klavier is the funniest thing in the world I love her so much. #1 hater

extremely generous of the judicial system to let disbarred lawyer phoenix wright design and run the new thing lmfaoooo

god willing they'll give me a chance to say 'i've spent the last seven years building up an immunity to atroquinine'

troupe gramarye is fucked up man LMAO i mean i kind-of guessed but i didn't anticipate the levels of it and i think we've only scratched the surface so far

i knew the names 'zak gramarye' and 'shadi enigmar' from fandom and never in a million years would i have guessed which was the magician stage name and which was his birth certificate name

i'm not sure what i'm meant to be thinking of zak so far. they alternate a bit between him seeming to be at least something of a concerned father, popping back up to will stuff to trucy and wearing her locket etc ...and him being physically violent, abandoning her in the first place and scheming to ruin phoenix's life a second time for no reason. I was pretty sure the victim from 4-1 was trucy's dad, and at the time I wondered if his plan was to undermine Phoenix in order to take custody of Trucy again, but so far it seems like he was just ... being a dick? lmao. I dunno; case isn't over so presumably more of that will come to light

still a big fan of valant, he cracks me up idc if he shot that old man. the game is telling me there was friction bc he was in love with thalassa but it's too little too late when i've already decided he has a weird gay thing with zak and also canonically he is capable of impeccable thalassa drag, so

drew misham being like "i left my reclusive 12 year old alone with a strange adult to discuss crime. it's ok though bc she felt an immediate affinity for a man she describes as the devil and agrees to keep secrets for" sir what the fuck do you mean !!!!! rest in pieces honestly

actually when we hit the bit about 'well vera doesn't like many people but she liked him', i was like "she liked KRISTOPH???" and @nowwheresmynut was like "maybe it was one of the gramaryes since she's a stan" and i was like "oh that makes sense". but it doesn't. it was kristoph. Lmfao. child whisperer

the MASON system is so ??? lmao... why does my inventory carry over from past to present lmaooo. phoenix invented time travel (real) (not clickbait)

I was going to write a whole thing about the disbarment trial and the investigation portion but this post is already enormous so it might be its own thing. I have deeper thoughts about that stuff from like a... broader game/storytelling pov. I will say I knew there was a flashback trial but I did NOT know you got so many investigation portions as Phoenix what a nice surprise 😭😭😭 I miss him

[missredherring]

Babe, you gotta tell more people about all the filth (and sweetness) you're planning for Eddie and Bella

(never!)

...You're right, LJ. I've been tiptoeing around it cos I'm not confident in my smut skills and what if I can't deliver? (I'm going use our chats since it's already there.)

Tagging @perotovar @covetyou because they deserve to know the truth.

Discussion of smut below.

The idea I'm going for is overstimulation and premature ejaculation. Vampires have enhanced senses right? So could that also be applied to touch and in turn sex? Baby vamps have to go through another type of puberty where their genital's are just so damn sensitive and they have to work to get back to a place where they're not just coming from a stiff breeze all the time? In this case, yes.

I'm thinking of setting it up as now that Eddie feels safe in your household and not like, just surviving with Max, his body comes back online. And with constant Bella exposure? Boner city for Eddie.

He tries to take care of it himself, but it takes literally a minute and he goes to John for help. John says there's nothing for it except to "desensitize your dick." There's no way he's doing that in a house full of enhanced hearing. (THIS LEADS TO HIM BEING GAGGED IF YOU EVEN CARE. "Are you shy, darling? Don't worry, I've got something that can help with that. There, isn't that better? Now you can make all the lovely noises you want and they'll be quiet enough so only I can hear them. Just relax, you're doing so well for me.")

This is where their charity gala date is going to lead to: you inviting Eddie into your bed, and him accepting.

He brings up the problem when he's about to come just from watching you undress. You reassure him and talk Eddie through coming untouched(!!!), but it's more support talk, and Eddie is the one doing all the dirty talk. "What've you been thinking about when you touch yourself, darling? Tell me." "Pulling your shoulders back when I'm inside you so I can sink my teeth into your neck. Hearing you tell me to come for you."

And as you've said, Eddie is all big apologetic puppy eyes and he just wants you to feel good like he does. Maybe he can't control his dick yet, but by God he's going to eat you out until they're both satisfied, because 🎶he doesn't need to breathe🎶.

I want it to be messy and untraditional and soft and sweet.

(For those wondering, yes, Max did have the same issue, and was still dealing with it somewhat when he died. ((He's not that much older than Eddie as a vampire and this issue takes time to resolve itself.)) The difference between Max and Eddie is that Eddie is willing to be vulnerable with you and let you help him through the experience, where as Max just blustered it out and got mean to over his embarrassment.)

If this if formatted weirdly or doesn't post right, blame Tumblr. Something is going on with the app where it's not letting me edit my drafts?!

[writingsofwesteros]

Robb and Jon have a brotherly relationship but it often turns into them fucking. Jon usually takes control, but Robb gets him sometimes. They don't see anything wrong with it and have used each other for years to help relieve frustrations. You can't father a bastard if all your cum is being fucked into a man, right? Not in this case. It started with them wondering what it would feel like to feel another's hand stroking their cock, so Robb proposed they help each other out. He quickly grabbed Jon's dick and started stroking it, playing with the head and applying pressure in all the areas he loves when he does it to his own cock. Robb watches intently as his brother moans and bucks into his hand, panting for him to stop before Jon came all over him. His eyes twinkle and he smirks, pumping his bastard brother's giant cock faster and almost choking it with his tight grip. Jon gasps and tries to tug on Robb's wrist, but ends up just holding it as cum suddenly shoots out of his cock.

Jon feels like his conscious has left his body and his cock begins to swell up again when he looks down on his brother's face covered in his own seed. Robb starts to move his hand down to jerk off his own cock, but Jon stops him and flips them over. He pins Robb to the bed, spreading him open missionary style and settling his body between his brother's legs. Jon is panting as he struggles to restrain himself, running his hands down Robb's abs and massaging at his hip bones. He slowly runs his hand over the spare red hairs that make up Robb's happy trail before hesitantly wrapping his big hand around his brother's dick. Robb's tip is already leaking precum from getting creamed on and servicing such a big dick, making Jon chuckle a bit as he runs a finger over the slit to collect it. He spreads Robb's precum all over his cock with his hand before harshly dragging it up and down. Robb doesn't take long to start whining, making Jon get harder and come up with an idea. Jon pumps his cock a few times, collecting the leftover cum to add some moisture before he lets his dick touch his brother's. Robb watches in confused awe as Jon holds their cocks with one hand and starts jerking them off together. Their hips start moving as their dicks rub together in Jon's big calloused hands and Robb chuckles that it's kinda like they're a man and woman fucking.

From then on they did stuff like that more often. They learned to give great handjobs before they moved one to actually taking dick in their mouth, Jon practically being a natural. He had less of a gag reflex than Robb and could slobber all over his brother's dick for hours without too much of a sore throat later. Jon would take pleasure in the way Robb seemed to get more excited when he offers to suck him off, agreeing no matter the situation. Robb would pet his brother's head as he bobs his head up and down his cock, going absolutely feral when Jon looks up at him and he can see his beautiful eyes with those thick ass lashes. Jon knows if he wants to tease Robb or make him cum fast, he just needs to make eye contact.

It's the same for when they move on to actually fucking, Jon often giving head as the most sub thing he does on a consistent basis. Jon rarely bottoms, so if he is getting bored of letting Robb go at him he'll look back or up at him and give him the prettiest flutter of his lashes. They love wrestling over who's bottoming or doing what and making bets as they practice swords. One time they dare the loser of their match to agree to whatever the winner wants, Robb working harder than before to ensure his own victory and being rewarded later. He tells Jon he'll come up with something, knowing well before the bet was placed that he wanted to claim his dick as he slept, something they haven't done befoee. While Catelyn sneaks into Jon's room to enjoy herself on his cock, she is shocked to find Robb already there bouncing away 👑💀

!!!!!!!

[aeolianblues]

Things I’ve come to learn in the last 48 hours:

UK roads are so much bumpier than North American roads. I have rediscovered that I used to be the most motion sick person you knew. I haven’t been road queasy in six years.

The upside is I simply cannot go on my phone out of boredom. Tumblr would’ve made me throw up on the road. Unfortunately, so would’ve reading the maps. The other upside is I am on fucking international roaming, so I really shouldn’t be using my data liberally anyway.

You all are so nice. You are so fucking nice. Holy fuck, the stereotype of the stoic Brit does not really apply in practice. You’re the nicest people, holy shit.

Also, you are one of the countries where neighbourhoods still feel like communities. Street WhatsApp groups, knowing your neighbours’ names, being in their lives, drinking together. I know only two of my neighbours, and one I know because they were being a dick to me and the other I know because I was bitching about the dicking to my other neighbours and then I asked their name.

The drinking culture is real. Holy fuck. I have consumed more alcohol in under 48 hours than I have in 5 years of being able to buy my own drinks with 0 parental supervision on my day-to-day life in Canada. But how can I blame you? Somehow, your drinks just taste nicer. For one, they don’t taste like $11 of piss.

Youse… how do I put this! You’re able to galvanise prettiness into discounts and free stuff. And it works. I don’t fucking know how. I’ve witnessed the magic with a dropped jaw. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that your servers aren’t under Damocles’ sword of tipping. Flirting in this country does the job of a voucher.

Youse don’t like Americans, do you. I get away here because I’m obviously not American, and to the passing ear I would pass more close to British than authentically Canadian because of my Indian accent (idk how either man, this is just what people tell me), but you are very acutely attuned to the stereotypes. You ever wonder if something is more of online heresay and that people don’t actually feel that way in the real world? It may be so with Canadians, I could mention most stereotypes about Canadians and Brits would be like, ‘huh, I didn’t know that’ (case in point, I said to a few today that Americans think of us first when they talk about weed, and they were like ‘huh. We just think of Amsterdam’). When it comes to the stereotypes about Americans, you know and will tell me every single one. Your friends are exceptions, they don’t disprove the rule.

Adding on to the point about niceness and stereotypes, you are surprisingly willing to travel long distances to meet friends. I’ve already had like four friends offer to travel fairly significant distances to see me while I’m here. I promise to reciprocate, obviously! People say all the time that Europeans don’t do well with the kind of distances North Americans are just used to because the continent is vast, and my bestest friend, a Londoner, is allergic to anything over 20 minutes to the point where I’ve just told her I’m coming to her house. I’ll sort travel, and we can sedate her if it gets longer than 20 (legally that is a joke). Perhaps you’ll grumble every minute of your 2.5-hour long trip, but if there is a train that goes, you will get on it.

Oddly, I’ve similarly had Americans be okay with driving out long distances to catch up. Canadians need to step up their game, holy fuck, I’ve had ‘friends’ in the same city who can’t be bothered to make a 15 minute trip, and this isn’t one or two people, over six years I’ve just noticed this is a Canadian thing. Yeah, we’re ‘nice’ but from a distance. Don’t ever come to our houses. Bye. Step up, Canadians. (My door is always open, I promise.)

You end your nights early. Here I thought we close down early.

The way you call Teslas ‘tezzies’ will actually kill the man dead. Keep up the good work.

[thatgirlsza]

Late Night Activities ♡

Dick Grayson/Nightwing x Reader

Angst with fluff, Post break up, misunderstandings, drinking, confessions, making up.

4 weeks ago.

 

You had ended things with Dick; it was the most painful thing you had to do to yourself. But you did it out of respect for yourself. He was never home, especially at night. He would leave you to sleep in a cold bed during the latest hours, and you would hear him shift out of bed until she shut the door behind you, leaving you to cry until you fell back to sleep. He was never available for you, always claiming he was busy but coming home with countless bruises. It made you sick and worthless; you couldn't take it anymore, so you ended it. That day, you saw him cry and beg, but you simply said, "You know why?"

 

You thought of that as you looked at the mirror, making the wing of blue eyeliner. You smile instantly, and thoughts of regret run through your mind. Lana turned and looked at you through the mirror with a hearty smile. "Hey, are you thinking about Dick?" She questioned applying her red lipstick. You nodded slightly, and she just smiled, rubbing your back gently. Feelings started to swell in your eyes as you tried to fight them back, looking down at the bag of makeup in front of you. You felt a painful slap on your back and looked up to see a mildly tipsy Sonia. "Screw that son of a bitch; tonight we forget about all life's problems; we'll deal with them along with our headache tomorrow." She said she was handing the two of you a shot glass of blue liquor. It smelled sweet and sour and made your nostrils burn slightly. You grimaced at it, and Sonia smiled, claiming it was the good stuff, raising her glass up. You and Lana did the same. "Tonight, we dance, we drink, and we leave our problems behind. As well as pants." She yelled before you all tapped your glasses down on the counter and raised your heads to scorch your throat with the sour liquid. It made your face contour uncontrollably and your tummy warm. Lana coughed and yelled if Sonia tried to poison you, but she just answered, saying it was warheads liquor. The banter continued to make you smile. They were right; tonight was yours—no more Dick, no more sadness.

 

For Dick, however, it was all work. After you left him, he picked up extra hours and cases to take away the pain and his mind off of you. Yet each lonely night he spent on rooftops, instead of missing you and your soft body back at home, he would think of the last thing you said to him before walking away forever. "You know why?" He would often wonder what it was. Was it because you found out about him being Nightwing, was it his bad habit of leaving while you were asleep and scaring you by coming in the morning, or was it because of the little black box that was in the dress suit he never wore? The little looped sliver has a simple diamond on it. Was it because you were scared of it or because you simply didn't love him enough to accept it? Dick would always ask the same thing, wondering if what you two ever had was real for you as much as he had believed it was for you two.

 

However, with much convincing on the Wally side, he was out on an undercover 'investigation' at a club down town with Wally, Viktor, and Garfield. It was the boy's way of getting his mind off of you, but he had seen right through it because Viktor and Garfield were the worst for said missions. Alas, he went along with the idea, and now he was at the club with louder, booming music and the scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air. He was down with Viktor while Garfield had gone to destroy a few shots, and Wally was flirting with a cute blonde who wore a small black dress and sharp red bottom heels and had her back turned to Dick. He smiled at his friend, and Wally gave him a smug look before going back to working his charm. "Amazing how he can do that." Dick mentioned looking down at his glass of golden whiskey on the rocks. He didn't usually drink alcohol and had a few sips, so he was still pretty much sober. He played with the glass a bit, looking down as the golden liquid danced between the ice.

 

"Think about her again?" Viktor asked, placing his drink down. It was a summer orange and had a granish of grapefruit and mint. Dick shifted in his seat at the question, nodding once. "Well, she was my world." Viktor grimaced. "Have you guys talked at all after?" "No, she blocked me, and I'm letting her have her space because it's clear I hurt her." Dick took a deep breath, looking up at the dance floor and narrowing his eyes as if the conversation was making him feel pain. "Damn, well, what would happen if you saw her on the street or on a mission?" "Hey, stop with all that shit; he's supposed to get over her while she's here." Wally said, sliding into the booth beside Viktor, making him huff out a sigh of defeat. "Anyway you see that blonde, her name is Lana. She was cute and shy, and she came with friends." He said, smiling widely at his friends, and right on que Garfield came; however, Dick continued to look at the dance floor, now looking as if looking for something or someone. "Watcha say Dickie, wanna go and-""Its her." They all stopped and looked at Dick in shock. "The hell do you mean her?" Garfield asked, slightly slurring at his mild drunkenness. Dick got up instantly. "It's (name)." He had seen you dancing in the crowd with a drink in your hands and a smile on your face. And so he made his way through the crowd, and all he could think about was the cyborgs question, "What would you do if you saw her again?" He didn't have an answer now, but he knew that once he got to you, he would.

 

You felt a feeling on your wrist that made you open your eyes and follow the leather jacket that was on your wrist. Your eyes met with his blue, and you felt your stomach turn and your arm let go of your party cup. "Dick." You whispered, the feeling of his warmth moving up your arms and tugging painfully at your heart. His eyes began to tear up as she pulled you into his chest, but you stuck frozen, stiff in his hold. His arms were warm and comfortable, and the feeling that had made you miss him more was the thought of how he held another woman like this. It made you feel weak and want to push him off, but you wanted back so badly. You began to feel your eyes tear up at the feeling of your logic fighting with your emotions and needs as a result of the alcohol in your system. Your arms unconsciously come up to create a space between his warmth and your body. Palms slightly pushing his chestback slightly. He backs off your body slightly, but his hold doesn't rest on your waist. You didn't want it too.(Name) I miss you so much. I'm so sorry. Please just let me say my piece; after that, you can walk out of my life  forever.Somehow you were able to hear his whisper even as the music made your ear bleed and the sweat-stained bodies around you moved. In fact, you had paid it any mind because it was just you and Dick in that moment. You nodded and followed him out of the club.

 

Outside the cold bit at your skin, you were barely able to stand straight as you looked at the concrete pavement. You wanted to speak to him nevertheless. As drunk as you are, you need to know why he cheated on you when you were so happy together, or at least you thought. You wrap your arms around your figure and feel the soft, fuzzy inside of his jacket wrap around your shoulders. You knew the feeling better than anyone, as well as the musk of it, which made you sick. You heard him clear his throat and looked up to see him holding the back of his neck with a tiny strawberry on his cheeks. You remembered that tint and that stance. The first time the two of you met in a library, the first time he asked you to dinner, the time he kissed you, you hid under a table at a coffee table because you saw your mom there and she didn't know you had moved on, the first time the both of you had made love, the time he asked you to move in with him. All those moments flood your head, make your heart ache more, and make your tears fall out of your eyes. The memories were filled with love and warmth, all for them to fake, to all fall away into a gutter, and you felt as if you were never enough for him. You imagined he would time the same gorgeous smile to charm another woman, hold her like he did you, kiss her like he did you, touch her, and she would be happy, and so would he, as she had what you lacked. You couldn't take it anymore. "What was it I don't have, Dick?" You cried before he could get a word out. You grabbed his collar and felt his body,his blue eyes looking down at you in wonder. "What?" You press your face into his shirt and begin to bang at his chest with your small, lost fists, and his hands snake around you to make sure you don't get hurt. "What didn't I have that made you go to another woman when I was asleep in your bed? Was it my cooking, my attitude, my face, my body, my family?" You sobbed more into his shit, blavk, and blue of your make-up smudged onto the shirt. "(Name), what are you talking about?" "Tell me why you cheated on me! Tell me, damn it! Tell me, Dick!" You began to yell before looking up at his soft blue eyes, tinted cheeks, soft lips, and dark hair. "So I can fix it because...because I still love you, Dick. I don't want to let go or believe we were all in my head."

 

Dick looked down at your teary face and felt his heart get stabbed at each of your words. He scoped you up and looked at you, your heels a few centimeters off the floor and your eyes lined with them. "(Name), you thought I was cheating on you?" You whimpered and looked away, sobbing quietly. "Oh baby," He slid his knuckles down your face as one arm held you. A small smile plastered on his features at your skittishness, his smile coming from the fact that you didn't leave him because you didn't love him but because you had assumed he was a cheat! "I would never do that, especially to the woman I wanted to marry." Dick placed his index finger under your chin, lifting your face up to gaze into his loving gaze. "Which is and will only be you, (Name)?" You bit the inside of your cheek at how his eyes shimmered as he looked at you. The look of love and adornment masks his features. Dick looked so handsome, you thought. "Than why would you leave at night and come home with bruises and never have rime for me?" You asked while fiddling with your finger on his chest. That's when he froze. It had suddenly struck him that if he wanted to keep a relationship with you and even a marriage, you needed to know the whole truth about him and who he really was. But Dick dared not tell you while you were drunk and teary-eyed that not only would you overreact, but you'd probably cry and call him a liar.

 

Looking down at you, he saw how your eyes glossed, waiting for his response, and all he did was sigh. "(Name): I love you, but I need you to be sober when I tell you this." Again, your eyes became teary. "But Dick..." "No, but I need you to be on your right mind when I tell you this, because it is going to determine our whole life together." Looking into his eyes, you could see his seriousness behind it as well as the truth. You dried your tears and pressed your head into his chest. "Okay, but on one thing." He hummed. "Please kiss me." Dick than smiled at the lady in his arms; she was cute and unique to him; he loved her from her speech to her curves, her attitude, even her scent. "Of course." He kissed the top of his head as he walked in the direction of her apartment with her in his arms.

 

✿◉●•◦..................................................◦•●◉✿

 

The next morning, when (name) woke up, she could see the world spinning around her and the feeling of warmth behind her, which she had become unfamiliar with as of late, but she just knew how it got there. Turning, instead of seeing a stranger, she saw Dick cuddled up to her with his mouth slightly open and his hair wild on her pillow. He took the classic stance that he slept with his mind clear and his heart at ease. Suddenly the flash of the past flashed before her eyes, and she could not remember how pathetic and ridiculous she sounded. Groaning, she covered her burning face with her hands and sobbed into them.

 

"Good morning, beautiful. I take it you remember what happened last night." Dick's voice did not even phase her, as she was a ball of embarrassment. "Erase it all from your memory," (name) said in between her hands. "Even you said you loved me when you asked me to just come at you when I was getting you dressed last night." The result of Dick's teasing led to him having a pillow shoved into his face. His response was to grab his hand by her waist and pull her close, which made her let her hands down and smile as he held her in his arms. They stayed like that, entwined in one another for a few minutes, until (name) broke the silence. "Last night you said you would tell me about that thing." She was quiet, as I'd thought she was afraid of the question. Dick took a deep breath and held her even closer. Fear fills his chest as his mind wonders to the worst of places, but he has promised to tell her the truth.

 

"Look, don't freak out," she stiffened in his arms. "When I was going out at night, I was for work and not the office job. That's not a real thing; I didn't give you an office job." "Than lied to me for 2 years. What do you do?" (Name) asked as she rose off his chest. "(Name), please relax; this is rather sensitive." They looked at one another in the eyes as tension rose in the air. "Okay.Thank you, (Name). I need you to understand that the reason I lied about my job and I would go out at night was because I'm... Nightwing." "Are you fucking kidding, Dick?" She looked into his deep blue eyes in irration, but they didn't waver; there was not a hint of desperation in them. "You are serious." He nodded.

 

"Holy hell, I'm dating Nightwing."

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

hot take: i know it’s fun to speculate all pauls sad songs from the let it be era are somewhat related to john/band breakup, but honestly my take is that something like the long and winding road could lieterally be about jane? like this man wrote countless songs about her, had a long relationship with her, he considered her his best friend, they lived together for some time and were even engaged. like she was his muse for quite sometime, i really doubt it would be a case of “oh well, we’ve broken up the memories are gone!” lol humans don’t work like that. especially people like paul who really holds on to memories. im not saying he wasn’t in love with linda at the time, but his relationship with her was still new and based on how some people have described paul after jane broke it off, he was a wreck, so i can only imagine some of those feelings would pass in songs of heartbreak. like it hadn’t even been a year. i mean paul literally said in his lyrics book about jane “but the memories don’t fade.”

This is interesting. Re: TLAWR specifically, I think my take on that would somewhat depend on when the song was written. It already existed at the start of the Get Back sessions… (though I know you pointed out it doesn't have to be linear, but I still am unsure) I do wonder if the song Let It Be, which was around in September 1968 already, was maybe somewhat related.

BUT, I think there's another point here. I agree "humans don't work like that" but I think that also applies to how they process things happening to them at the same time. The reality is that the band (and John in particular) took a nosedive at the same time as Jane and Paul's relationship ended, so I think these two things were probably not as easily separable to Paul as they may be to us. It all might just combined into A Generally Shitty Period, y'know.

I have very similar feelings on the songs Paul ascribed to his 1965 fight with Jane – I'm Looking Through You, You Won't See Me, We Can Work It Out – the latter two I've seen theorized as being about John (funny how you don't see the most bitter one ascribed to him though), in relation to John and Paul's ongoing conflict over acid at the time. My take here is that it's very possible that both these fights coinciding made the situation worse than the sum of its parts to Paul. Your girlfriend walking out on you is worse if your best friend has been being a dick to you for months, and it might make everything feel more hopeless and desperate, which could ultimately influence the music, at least indirectly.

So I agree with you and I don't fully, because I don't think it has to be an either/or. I also think songs can change their meanings after having been technically fully written – this is a bit how I feel about Two Of Us. And also, I do want to say that sometimes Paul is just writing stuff and it's not that personal lol. Although I don't think The Long And Winding Road is such an example.

[penig]

So I don’t write smut, as a lifestyle choice, and I don’t go out of my way to read smut, but I don’t go out of my way to avoid reading it, either, except insofar as I want something else to be the A plot. I’ve run across it incidentally quite a lot  since joining AO3, as you do, and most of it I skim because most of it isn’t really adding to the story. If it advances plot or characterization of course I’ll read that, but otherwise I treat it like fight scenes (which have the same problem) and the boring parts of Moby Dick. If you get the gist you don’t have to get every word to know if it matters to you or not. (For E-rated stuff that has a job to do and is eminently readable, as an example of what I don’t skim, I recommend Charlotte Madison’s GO Human AU, Or Be Nice, feuding neighbors to lovers, in which the first sex scene is part of a long conversation that goes through multiple means of communication, before and after the act.)

By and large I don’t think about the stuff I’m skimming, but in the case of M/M scenes specifically,  mostly but not entirely in fanfic, I have evolved some questions, which by their nature I’m not about to put into comments, but I can’t help running through sometimes, sometimes in terms of writing quality and technique but also in terms of societal and technological changes that have happened since my life became more domestic and monogamous. I will mix them up together here. Quite probably many of the fics I don’t read because the explicit material is the A plot would address these concerns, but that possibility is not enough to tempt me to read that widely without guidance. And I need something to distract me from worrying about my cat and the discomfort of the foot (and the head; I’m getting lots of positional vertigo, which is scary as well as nauseous when you can’t put weight on one foot.) Anyway, in no particular order, I wonder:

Do gay men not keep tubs of Crisco by their beds anymore? What is this magic lube that comes in packets and is never too cold and apparently is never nasty-tasting or grainy and never makes a mess on the sheets or leaks on the headboard or gets the container sticky and therefore dusty? We did not have this in my day. It sounds wonderful. Where can I get it? I keep forgetting to look in the family planning aisle and am not sure I’d recognize it anyway. We used to have to buy lube in the first aid aisle and in a certain kind of novelty shop, where it was called “massage oil.”

Are cock rings passe? I can see how that might happen when they became mainstream as accessories to rave wear, but the chrome things were never the only option and it’s been long enough for them to cycle back.

Where are these men’s testicles? Even most of the scenes I don’t skim seem to take place between guys who don’t have them. I get that not everybody likes to play ball but aren’t they in those cases at least in the way?

Why is the bottom never making a bathroom run as soon as their legs function again? (This applies equally to women and men but I notice it most strongly in M/M.) In the case of rear entry in particular, this BS about the top bringing a damp washrag back to bed to clean up with will not do the trick, absent a preliminary enema. I know enemas aren’t sexy but nobody seems to even own the pumps anymore and if you haven’t planned ahead and regulated your food intake, believe me, you do not want to clean up that wet spot much less wake up in it - you head to the can ASAP. This is distracting and gross, y’all, please just take advantage of the glories of indoor plumbing!

That seems to be the bulk of it.

[mysteriousangels]

Flashback Para (Ada/Della): On my Doorstep

Ada had plenty as soon as Waylon expressed any concern about Della knowing about things. Of course, when he sidestepped her assumption about giving out information, she knew she had to be right. And the little comment about haunting her, as much fun as it would be, suddenly gave her quite the loose lips. 

Ada applied her makeup outside of the building as the sounds of gunshots calmed down. She hummed softly wondering if they could take one or two back, just to see if she could build her homunculus but that mostly depended on the fact that Della didn't shoot where all the vital organs were. But knowing how her friend operated that was exactly where she killed them. If anything, Della was precise in her work and maintained the cover and lifestyle she chose. Because it was either that or die for being a traitor, hell even more so now since had actively killed other agents. Ada knew about it all and it didn't bother her she respected that Della would go to these lengths.

Once everything had calmed down, Ada walked into the building, her steps quiet as she walked over a few dead bodies and paused at one. "He was cute, she could've kept him alive. " She patted him down and raised her brow before clearing her throat and taking his ID card out of his pocket. The building was small and remote, strictly a mid-waypoint for active undercover spies working on cases that dealt with people like Ada or Inessa. Ada sighed and pouted. "I have to throw away these heels, blood is hard to get out." She mumbled to herself. As she quietly walked through the building trying to mentally calculate where exactly Della would hide. She decided to check the fourth floor since that was a midway point and out of sheer laziness, she took the elevator. 

Riding up the elevator Ada hummed to the elevator music and leaned down to pretend like she was having a conversation with the slump dead body next to her. “Nice weather we're having huh? You know, my lethal gas killed way more people than this. But this is just so messy, totally not my style unless you/re the fucking Queen of England. Fuck that bitch, I have a poison just for her if I ever get the chance to kill that whore. Oops, lost my cool there for a moment. Well, this is my floor, nice chat. Someone should really close his eyes, like god he’s so creepy.” Ada walked out the elevator only to be met with the sound of a gunshot and excruciating pain in her thigh. “FUCKING HELL DELLA, YOU SHOT ME? IN VERSACE!” She screamed and then covered her mouth remembering where they were. A painful wail came from her as she fell to the ground trying to focus on anything other than the pain, she was in.

When Ada screamed at her Della came out of her hiding place and looked at Ada in shock before running over to the girl and immediately started to try and do first aid. “Shit shit shit. Ada what the hell are you doing here, I thought you were another agent?!” Della said as she quickly took out the bullet in Ada’s leg and applied pressure to stop the bleeding. At the time she didn’t even remember that she had coated the bullets with poison. Ada let out a muffled scream as Della got the bullet out and glared at Della.

“I came because Waylon is a dumbass and from what I assume accidentally helped Sadie expose your sister’s whole team. He wanted you to know that he’s dumb and thinks with his dick when it comes to attractive people younger than him.” Ada embellished a bit and flinched as Della bandaged her up too tight for her liking.” I want to keep my limbs, Della.”

“Violet got exposed because of Sadie. I’m not surprised this was the outcome. You could tell Sadie was a bit off her rocker, but it is what it is now. Even if I was around, she wouldn’t have listened to me, but I am still upset about what happened. In fact, I’m livid at everyone involved in that cluster fuck of a problem but I have no right to get involve or voice that anger at Violet and them.” Della said on a deathly calm voice, it was voice of any real emotion. Della was taking in the news, and she knew how she what she was saying was her feelings, but they weren’t her current feelings since she couldn’t actually process anything right now. After bandaging Ada up. she stood and held a handout to Ada. “You’re so smart but so dumb, you should have sent Inessa.”

“Inessa got herself locked into a magical legal contract that she can’t break. Although I’m not sure she wants to break it since it means she gets to spend time with mermen and octopans.” Ada took Della’s hand and stood up, she stumbles slightly but took no notice of it since she just assumed it was from the fact that she had just gotten shot. “Buy me an expensive fugu dinner and I’ll call it even. Also, that way we can say you didn’t kill me if I die.” Ada joked and Della rolled her eyes.  They left the building together after Della finished doing a thorough check of the building, but as they were walking Ada gasped in pain and fell to the ground as her vision stared to blur. For a moment, she was confused and couldn’t think, then she remembered a few years ago after the first fire Della coming into her room. They had talked and Ada told her about the poison she had made for the Queen and Della asked if she could use it for traitors to the circus. Of course, Ada said no, but she would make a similar version that had an antidote. Damn her own hatred for the Queen had come to bite her in the butt, but she couldn’t help but be proud because she was certainly wishing for a swift death instead of the pain she was in now.

When Ada fell Della got concerned all over again and checked Ada pulse and forehead. She didn’t understand what was happening until she saw Ada mouth poison. Fuck. She had totally forgot. She carefully picked up Ada and put her on her back sending Waylon a quick text. She was mentally calming herself down trying to keep herself from getting overwhelmed with everything that was happening right now. It was all too much, she was only 22 and everything she had ran from 5 years ago was all landing at her doorstep and bombarding her with a life and obligations she didn’t want.

[confusedshades]

Man, Bruce's got no idea what's coming towards him.

He and Dick have clashed before, but that was before. When Dick was still a teenager. He was still prone to the giving in to the emotional whirlpools that come with that particular rage that parental figures inspire. That whole react first-hit harder-scream louder-hurt more tendency where you're so focused on attacking that you forget where the lines are, you feel everything deeply and personally, the blurry arguments that escalate faster that Flash runs. Where you walk away feeling every word said, every word implied, every word unsaid, and wondering why you didn't follow through on your plan that you'd spent three weeks of sleepless nights working on.

Now?

Now, Dick is a slightly more matured and grown adult, with more experience sure but also a little more brain development (the brain cooking is an important aspect), who's figured out how to be less impulsive in his personal life, to temper his reactions against Bruce and account for how and what Bruce was probably thinking.

He's also an enraged older sibling who has lived for years regretting not being closer to Jason, learnt from Jason's death and tried being there more for Tim, and now been denied knowledge that not only is his baby brother alive somehow, but that said baby brother has been the latest Gotham Rogue who's been on a direct confrontation path with Batman. That his baby brother was attacked by their father figure, their mentor, abandoned and left for death, while their father figure took the person responsible for killing his brother back to the jail cell he'd already escaped multiple times from.

Here's how I see it playing out.

Dick waited with Jason, waiting patiently for the wound in his throat to heal, to stop bleeding everywhere - blood. so much blood everywhere, enough to coat the gauntlets and knee pads of the Nightwing costume. When The wound had mostly closed, when Jason had slipped into unconsciousness but still alive, Dick's hand along Jason's neck told him that with the erratic but still present pulse, Dick knew it would take a while for Jason to recover. Whatever the glow had been, had saved his brother and Dick would be damned before he let him out of his sight anytime soon.

It took a little levering and a lot of hauling but eventually Dick got Jason settled in an old safe house he'd maintained in Gotham that Dick was sure Bruce didn't know about. He carefully stripped the armour and underlayers, wincing and grimacing at every revealed bruise, carefully using a washcloth and antiseptic sprays where needed. The deep bruises along Jason's jaw and cheekbone had Dick needing to take a pause and deep breathe before he could ensure there no open cuts needing cleaning before applying Alfred's special bruise cream. The mottled colours coming in along the ribs and back had Dick hissing in sympathy. Once Dick was sure Jason's injuries were taken care of, he grabbed a few cold packs and placed them along Jason's ribs, and then draped the coziest blanket he could find over Jason. There was dried blood in Jason's hair but he'd need more than a wet washcloth and a basin of water to take care of it.

Then he called Alfred to figure out what Bruce had said at home. What he heard didn't make matters any better. He asked if Alfred would mind coming alone to hear the whole truth. Because it was obvious that Bruce hadn't been doing well with anything.

Alfred came over an hour later, heard Dick's theories out, checked over the injuries that Dick had patched for Jason. He promised to sit with Jason while Dick went over to talk to Bruce.

Bruce who had claimed that Jason had disappeared in the explosion. Who claimed that Jason had given him an impossible choice and Batman had found an alternative. Who somehow, instead of accepting the miracle of Jason's resurrection was happier living with the ideal of Robin's sacrifice and the story he'd built for the empty suit in the glass case of the Batcave.

So Dick, still covered in the now dried blood of Jason went to confront Bruce.

Batman and the Joker were already gone when Dick made it to the scene.

So was the Red Hood, it seemed.

Dick stood there for a moment, just watching the still smoldering rubble. He wasn't even sure why he was here in the first place. Batman was already out, and the Joker was with him.

The Red Hood was nowhere to be seen.

He should just go home. Go home, and not say anything about coming here. It wouldn't have done any good for anyone, anyway, after all. He could hear it in Bruce's voice, then in Alfred's.

A moment passed. Dick was still there.

There had been something. Something so familiar about the Red Hood. Something that made Dick feel strangely hopeful the more he thought about it, and he didn't know why.

There was just something.

He made his way down. He stepped around the bigger flames and into the scorching rubble. He didn't know what he was looking for. The Red Hood was gone already. He would be, if both Batman and the Joker were. That much Dick had understood about what he had been able to hear.

Still, it was like something was calling for him. Something, somewhere.

Dick wandered through the rubble and the smoke rising from it. He had been trained to listen to his instincts, after all, and this was him listening to them, he told himself, over and over again. He was doing what he knew the best.

It was the only way he could explain the feeling.

There was something in the rubble.

His eyes took a moment to recognise that what he was seeing was different from all the surrounding stone and metal. It was decidedly not made from either of those, and once his brain caught onto that fact, he zeroed in on it completely.

It was a leg, sticking out from beneath the rubble.

Dick had ran over and started to lift the rubble off of the leg before his brain caught up with him again. It was a leg dressed in torn, dark fabric, with a heavy boot on the feet. Another one became visible as Dick got some of the rubble off.

Then became visible part of the torso, dressed in torn and burnt combat shirt, and it was then Dick knew who exactly he was diggin out.

Or at least he thought he knew.

He would remain oblivious to the real truth for a moment longer.

Dick grabbed the next piece of debris, his fingers digging to what had once been either a part of a wall or a floor, with shattered tile still somehow clinging to it, and he dragged it off of the Red Hood, uncovering more of his body.

That was when he noticed the blood.

There was a lot of it. It didn't come as a surprise, exactly, with the amount of heavy wreckage that was on top of the guy. It would've been a miracle if nothing had hit him hard enough to cause some real damage.

It was a little surprising that Dick couldn't see the source of the blood yet. Was there really only one, single wound, despite all of the chances to get them all over instead?

He would worry about it in just a moment. First, he needed to see what was actually going on.

He pushed and pulled the pieces of the building away from the Red Hood, uncovering him bit by bit, discovering more of his blood in the process.

Then the last piece was pulled away.

With it, Dick found himself staring down at the face of Jason Todd.

Dick's world stopped for a one, single, long second.

Then it started all over again.

"Jason", Dick gasped, because he needed to breathe and speak at the same time to get his voice to work. "Jason."

Jason laid there, in the middle of smoke and rubble, his eyes closed and blood all over him.

He was taller than Dick remembered. He was bigger, too. Of course he was. Dick had seen the Red Hood. He knew who he was dealing with.

Jason was taller, bigger, older.

Jason was the Red Hood.

Jason was Dick's little brother.

Dick's little brother laid there, in the middle of smoke and rubble, his eyes closed and blood all over him.

There was so much blood.

"Jason." Dick wanted to scream. He didn't. If he did, then he would break the dream he was in. "Jason."

His fingers latched around Jason's wrist. Even through his suit, he could feel the warmth of his skin. He could've been warm because of all the fire that had been burning around him. Dick chose to believe otherwise.

He had been given a miracle. A miracle that was slightly twisted, but a miracle nevertheless.

He didn't want to believe that the world would be so cruel to give it to him and then take it away before he got to even have it.

He held onto Jason tight.

"Jason." His other hand craddled the side of Jason's face. The side with less blood on it. He still looked so much like he had before, despite all of the changes Dick could see. It had only been a few years, after all. Three? Four? Not too many. Entirely too many.

It was still Jason.

"Jason."

Jason opened his eyes.

He didn't look like he really saw Dick there, even though he was right in front of him. At first, he just stared somewhere past Dick, his eyes clouded over.

"Jason", Dick called.

At his voice, Jason's eyes moved ever so slightly more to Dick's direction. He still didn't look like he was really seeing him, but he was awake and moving at least somewhat. It was more than enough for Dick.

"Hold on", Dick told him. "You're going to be just fine."

There was blood on Jason's neck. It had spread from there and splattered onto his face and hair as crimson speckles. He had been bleeding quite some time.

Dick had no idea how he was still alive.

He wasn't complaining.

He needed to see a bit better, so he would know what he was dealing with, exactly. Reluctantly he let go off Jason's hand to wipe away some of the blood on his neck, to expose the wound more clearly to his eyes.

The skin beneath the blood was scorching through the fabric of Dick's suit.

Dick didn't pull his hand away. He continued to wipe away the blood, drenching his own hand in the process.

Beneath the red, there was a golden glow.

He got the edge of the wound visible. The flesh was still cut open on the surface there, but everything beneath it, the blood and the muscle were basking in golden light coming from the inside, slowly but surely knitting the flesh whole again, like thousands of needless with heavenly string in them were stitching Jason back together.

Dick had seen stranger things before.

One of them being his little brother back from the dead right in front of him.

He could take a little golden glow and the body healing on its own if the meant that his little brother stayed back from the dead.

"It's okay", Dick told Jason. "You're going to be okay."

He wiped away the blood from the edge upwards, all the way to the other side of Jason's neck. The cut was long and still deep in the middle, where the flesh had not yet healed itself as well, and Dick had the odd sense of familiarity come over him the longer he looked at it.

This time, though, there was no hopefulness accompanying the feeling.

This time, there was only the growing sense of despair.

Dick had seen a batarang being thrown enough times to know what a cut left behind by the edge of ones blade looked like.

Jason was not wearing his helmet. He was laying there, in the middle of smoke and rubble, blood all around him.

Batman and the Joker were both gone.

Dick's suit was covered in Jason's blood. He tore his eyes away from the wound, that damning wound, and looked back into Jason's eyes. They were still open, still looking at Dick, even if the slightly faraway look was still present in them.

It was enough.

"You're going to be okay", Dick told him.

Jason didn't say anything. Only one, singular tear gathered into the corner of his eye, dropping down to his cheek, washing away the drops of blood on its way.

He didn't resist when Dick gathered him into his arms.

"You're going to be okay", Dick told him. He pressed his face onto Jason's shoulder. He could feel the blood sticking to his skin, warm and damning. "You're going to be okay. I'll make sure of it."

Dick had been given a miracle, and he held onto it tight.

[culttvblog]

Comedy Playhouse: Elementary, My Dear Watson

I'm not sure how this blog post is going to turn out and think it might be rather different to my usual style because the TV programme I'm writing about is radically different from most of the TV shows I have ever watched.

Don't be taken in by the fact this play was broadcast in 1973 under the Comedy Playhouse title. This show is of course a national institution, initially being started in 1961 largely as a vehicle for Galton and Simpson before ending 128 episodes later in 1975. It's unusual for a show of the time because you can see many of its episodes: there are some on the internet but they're also found scattered across the boxed sets of the shows it spawned as independent productions: Steptoe and Son, Meet the Wife, Till Death us do Part, All Gas aqnd Gaiters, Up Pompeii, Not in Front of the Children, The Liver Birds, Are You Being Served and Last of the Summer Wine. This show has spun off an incredible amount of television for one series.

Clearly we're in legendary TV territory already but what elevates Elementary, My Dear Watson above the already great stable it came from was that it was written by NF Simpson. He was a playwright who identified with the Theatre of the Absurd, which built on Albert Camus's idea that human existence is essentially abusrd, and devoid of purpose (britannica.com). The way this came out in their theatre was that they tended to get rid of plot, they abandoned the traditional structures of theatre. You will readily see that once again I am punching well above my weight, writing about this show. There isn't much of Simpson's work available to be seen because he was writing right in the middle of key TV junking time, although apparently he wrote the scripts for two episodes of The Dick Emery Show, which may or may not available. Possibly the other most available of his work is One Way Pendulum (1964) in which amongst other things, one character builds a reproduction of the Old Bailey in his front room and Jonathan Miller conducts a choir of Speak Your Weight Machines. You can tell that Elementary My Dear Watson is incredibly highbrow because of its being prominently featured by the British Film Institute.

The way Simpson's approach comes out in Elementary My Dear Watson is that you will be hard pressed to follow the plot, if indeed there is one. His style requires around short scenes, and non-sequiturs: if you haven't seen any of his work I think you would probably like this if you like Monty Python. It's a show which requires careful attention, because you easily miss some small twist and find yourself wondering what is going on. There are two main plots going on at once. There is a further theme where Jack the Ripper keeps ringing up Scotland Yard to confess but they've never heard of him. Fu Man Chu wants the main exhibit, a dead solicitor. In the middle another dead solicitor appears as the object in a spoof object of Call My Bluff. There is a further theme involving a piano tuner in drag, which is stated to be used because otherwise the show wouldn't fill the time. To cut a long story short: the ingredients of a Sherlock Holmes adventure and other Victorian adventures are mixed up a bit, moved to 1973, and given a coat of surrealism.

As you can tell, I love this show, could watch it over and over and think it's absolutely marvellous. There is another aspect which is wonderful, though, and that was casting John Cleese as Sherlock Holmes. Basil Rathbone and Benedict Crumblysnatch can just give up now because I have to say that Cleese is the Holmes we have been waiting for. Imagine the energy of Basil Fawlty applied to Sherlock Holmes, perfectly foiled by Willy Rushton as Watson, and you have the idea. There's another opportunity to watch Cleese as Holmes (or rather a descendant) in the similarly absurd The Strange Case of the End of Civilisation as We Know It (1979), which I think is also best understood as a series of sketches.

I'm not going to beat about the bush, reading the commentary online it is apparent that a small amount of Simpson's work goes a long way for a lot of people. If you want me to criticise this show I would have to say that the main problem as far as I can see is to wonder what this masterpiece of absurd theatre is doing in a comedy slot, because it's way above being a simple comedy.

I think, though, that if you watch it as what it is and don't expect a simple comedy, it had layers of absurdity which are incredibly enjoyable.

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Archives from 2013 to September 2023 may be found at culttvblog.blogspot.com and there is an index to the tags used on the Tumblr version at https://www.tumblr.com/culttvblog/729194158177370112/this-blog

[shina913]

Spin, Part 2 | KTH

Pairing: KTH x reader

Genre: one-night stand!AU; blind-date!AU; smut (no minors please); strangers to lovers; light fluff (if you squint)

Word count: 3K+ words

Warnings: smut; public sex; fingering; alcohol consumption; cussing; sexually explicit conversations; dirty talk

✫✫✫Spin Miniseries Masterlist✫✫✫

Summary: Your mom tries to fix you up with yet another blind date--this time, with her friend's son.

A/N: So--I was surprised at the response on the one-shot that I decided to make a follow-up? It's uhm...extra dirty 🍸 with a side of fluff!

Also - had to borrow another line from Insecure. I miss this show so much! 😩

❤️, comment, reblog, or send me an ask 📩 to let me know what you think!

“Hey, girl—you think I can borrow your jacket? You know, that black, leather one with the studs?”

“The one from a couple weeks ago?”

“Yeah. I think it would go well with my outfit,” Reina said while she turned her body to check herself out on your floor-length mirror.

“Uh…sure. It’s in the closet by the hallway,” you told her while you continued to apply your makeup.

“It’s too bad you can’t come tonight,” her voice echoed from the hallway.

“Yeeahh,” you sighed “But it’s my parents’ anniversary dinner. I can’t miss it. 30 years!”

She walks back into your bedroom clutching the jacket. “What a milestone! Do you ever wonder if they still have sex?”

“Ahh! Reina!!!” You shrieked while you looked up at her reflection from your vanity.

She giggled. “Girl, c’mon. Your parents look good and happy for a couple married for 30 years. The bed must still be rocking,” she joked.

“Reina, I swear to God, I will yeet you out the window!”

“Chill out, babe!” She says as she puts the jacket on and absentmindedly puts her hands in the pockets. She feels some paper rustling and pulls it out.

“Girl, why are you so sloppy? You keep garbage in your clothes?”

“Excuse me?” You said while you paused in applying your mascara. “I didn’t put that there. What is that,” you asked, turning your vanity seat around.

Reina unfurled the crumpled piece of paper to get a good look. “Holy shit…”

“What? What is it?”

Her eyes bulged. “A phone number!”

“What? Whose?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know! It’s your jacket.”

You scrunch your face in confusion.

Her eyes flickered. “Ooh…was it—ahem—hot, broody guy? What did you call him again? The pussy whisperer?” She grinned wildly.

“Shut up!” You exclaimed as you stood up from your seat and swiped the paper from her.

“How have you not called him back?” She asked incredulously.

You rolled your eyes. “How can I when I didn’t know that I had his number to begin with?”

“So you’re telling me that you had completely lost your senses and forgot to ask for his number because dick was that good?”

“I mean…you’re not wrong,” You internally shivered remembering all those orgasms that he gave you weeks ago.

Has it really been that long? You couldn’t tell because you tried to relive the memory over and over every time you touched yourself. It just wasn’t the same.

“It was just supposed to be a one-time thing. I didn’t know that he slipped this in,” you said, staring at the piece of paper.

“You should call it,” she urged.

“Girl? Are you serious? It’s been two weeks! The window has closed! Had I known, I wouldn’t have waited this long to call him.”

“Mm-hmm…” she said with an eyebrow cocked.

“I mean–” You sighed and stared at the paper again as if trying to burn a hole through it. You groaned then shook your head. “Forget it! He’s probably fucking someone else now,” you said, crumpling the paper back up again and threw it into the waste basket.

“Woah, woah–let’s…let’s not make hasty decisions, YN.” She says as she retrieved the paper from the trash. “Listen–how ‘bout we just save his number–” She ignored your looks of protest while she picked up your phone and keyed in the digits and saved it to your contacts list.

“Just in case! You never know, right?” She hands you your phone back.

You sighed and made a face when you saw the contact card.

[✨🍆✨]

“An eggplant and sparkles?”

She giggled. “What? It’s appropriate!”

“What ever am I gonna do with you, Reina Lee?”

“You know you love me, babe!”

******

You arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare and walked straight into the private banquet room in the back.

It wasn’t a super formal event but you dressed nicely in a black wrap-dress and matching strappy heels that showed off your legs.

You greeted your parents when you arrived along with a few cousins and aunts and uncles who were there to celebrate.

There were some faces that you hadn’t recognized. You figured they were some new friends of your parents.

Your mom introduced them as their friends from swing dancing classes.

“Hi, so glad to meet you,” you said as you greeted them.

“This is my daughter that I’ve been talking to you about,” your mom says while she rests her hand on your shoulder delicately as if to show you off like a porcelain doll.

“Ahh, I see. I’ve heard so much about you,” the older female says as she smiles warmly at you.

“Her son is about the same age as you,” your mom says to you.

Your mom never missed the chance to fix you up with dates. She says that you and Reina enjoyed your freedom too much and you weren’t getting any younger.

Her prospects have been sorely disappointing but you entertained them anyway because your mom was a sweetheart and she only means well.

“Yes, he’s coming tonight, actually. He just called me to say that he’s running a little late as he’s coming from the office across town,” her friend explains.

“That’s right,” your mom chimes in.

“He’s invited? To your anniversary party?” You asked incredulously.

“Oh, honey—it’s not a big deal. We have room. The more, the merrier,” she says.

You were not prepared for an ambush. At least during a date, you didn’t need to worry about your mom watching your every move from the sidelines.

You’d have dinner and by the end of the night, put the poor guy out of his misery by letting him know that it wasn’t going to work out and then get into your own rideshare and go home, never having to think about it again.

After her friend stepped away, you accosted your mother.

“Mom, this is a little awkward. Why couldn’t you just wait until I could talk to him in private or something?”

She kept her voice mild. “Sweetheart, I just thought that you needed a little push…”

You sighed in exasperation. “Mom–I’m just really not in a hurry to date right now. I’m only trying to focus on me, focus on enjoying myself–”

She cut you off abruptly. “Well, can you not spend too much time ‘focusing’? Because whenever you’re over this phase, you still have to meet a man, date him–which would take, what, two years? Possibly more. Then your dad and I still need to save up money for a big wedding–that could take another two years–possibly more. And by the time you’re ready to get married, maybe your dad can roll you down the aisle–because you’ll be in a wheelchair. Because you’ll be old, YN. Now go take your seat. Helen’s son will sit next to you.”

She said it with so much finality.

You scoffed at the audacity then sighed heavily. It wasn’t like you could stop this train from coming.

You took your seat and caught up with your cousin while appetizers were served. Your phone buzzed with a few group selfies of Reina and your other friends at the club.

You smiled as you texted her back.

So jealous! Mom just dropped a surprise blind date tonight. Shoot me!

As soon as you hit ‘send,’ you took a sip of water and heard your mom’s friend exclaim.

“Ah! Here he is, finally,” she says as she comes to greet him by the door to give him a hug.

You looked over to where your mom’s attention was and almost choke on your drink as you saw him walk through.

He wore a charcoal gray suit and a white button-down without a tie. His hair was brushed but still had that slightly unkempt look that you found so sexy when you found him standing in his kitchen the morning you woke up in his apartment.

How?

His steps falter as he spots you across the room, looking befuddled. But once he locked eyes with you, his lips slowly curved into that panty-busting smile and continued to walk towards you, with renewed purpose this time.

Your jaw drops and eyes bulge out of your skull as he closes in on your table.

“Daaaamn,” your cousin mumbles. “It’s too bad I’m already engaged. I’d kick Yeonjun to the curb if I met him first.”

“YN, meet my youngest son, Taehyung,” his mom says.

“Good evening, everyone. I apologize for my tardiness,” he says as he glances down at you.

“Oh, he’s so polite,” your mom gushed. “Please, have a seat! Dinner is just about to be served,” she says.

He takes his seat next to you and extends arm for a handshake.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said, clearly making you squirm.

“YN,” you replied.

“Don’t leave me hanging now,” he says with his hand still extended.

You get a grip and put your hand in his to shake it.

“Nice to meet you,” he uttered.

“Uhm…same,” you mumbled.

Dinner goes by at a snail’s pace as you are suddenly hyper-aware of every movement that you’re making–trying to make sure that you didn’t accidentally brush against him.

The family-style banquet posed an incredible challenge as all dishes were set on a rotating tray in the middle of the table. You and Taehyung both reached for the noodles and recoiled at the same time when your fingers touched.

“Go ahead,” he yielded to you getting your serving first.

You murmured a silent ‘thanks’ and proceeded to spoon some food onto your plate before nudging the tray towards him.

You turned to your cousin who sat on your left, trying to desperately avoid making awkward conversation with him.

It worked for a few minutes until she had to excuse herself to go to the bathroom.

You started fidgeting with your utensils while you pushed your food around your plate.

“So…are we just going to pretend that we don’t know each other,” he mumbles in your direction.

You kept your voice just as low. “What do you expect me to say? By the way, how have you been since we last fucked?” You smiled back at your mom as she beamed at the sight of you talking to Taehyung.

He inhaled sharply. “I’m kind of disappointed that you didn’t call me,” he says while he reaches out for a piece of pork to put on his plate.

You pretended not to know what he was talking about.

“I didn’t even have your number,” you muttered through clenched teeth.

He looked at you suspiciously. “You didn’t think to check your pockets?”

You lied through your teeth. “What do you mean?” You looked back at him to find him staring at you with those intense, hooded eyes. In an instant, you were transported back to his room–that deep, sexy voice, worshiping your body, ragged breaths mixed with faint sounds of jazz music.

“Excuse me, I need a drink,” you abruptly announced.

You rushed over to the bar and ordered a glass of wine. As you took a gulp, your phone started buzzing. When you looked at the screen, the caller ID showed the sparkly eggplant contact name that Reina inputted earlier that evening. You panicked and rejected the call.

Little did you know, Taehyung watched your every move from where he sat at the table.

You felt a little hot so instead of going straight back to the table, you made a detour to the bathroom. While you rinsed your hands over the sink, you hear the door open.

“You know…I didn’t think I had to work this hard to get a second date,” he says as he bolts the door to the bathroom.

You eyed him from where you stood. “Second? We hadn’t even gone to a first.”

You turned the faucet off and grabbed a few paper towels to dry your hands.

“Let’s try that again then. I didn’t think I’d have to work this hard for a date,” he repeated as he leaned against the door.

You shrugged. “I thought that this was all…casual.” You leaned your hip against the sink.

“Yes, but–I thought that we had…” he clicked his teeth, “A connection. Don’t you think so?”

The pit of your belly started to twist as you felt that familiar rush within you…but you had to keep your cool.

You cleared your throat. “I may have.”

“So…why didn’t you call me even after you found my number?”

“I didn’t have–”

“Well…it’s a good thing your mom was all too happy to give me your number,” he said.

Fuck!

You shrugged your shoulders again. He knew that you had his number. He knew right when you rejected his call to you moments ago. “I…don’t know. I just assumed that–maybe you had already moved on.”

You held your breath as he sauntered towards you while he shook his head. “I thought that maybe…I was a terrible host?”

He stopped a foot away from you.

“No, you weren’t,” you said, finding your voice.

He was amazing. The tea, the hangover treatment, the slow-dancing…the sex…

He continued to take another step.

“I’m glad to hear that because…I haven’t moved on from that night.” He was inches from your face now–his breaths gently fanning your face while he stared you down with heavy eyelids.

You did your best to keep your breathing even even though your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers while his hand reaches down below the hem of your skirt, fingers barely caressing the skin on your thigh.

“Some days, I swear I could still taste you on my tongue.” His lips grazed yours as his fingers found your already soaked panties.

He chuckled lightly. “Looks like I’m not the only one who hasn’t moved on,” he said before he slid his fingers under the material to rub your aching core.

As you opened your mouth to gasp you felt his lips and his tongue on you. You moaned shamelessly into him as he dipped three fingers into you.

You tightened around his digits while he mercilessly pumped in and out of you. You mewled and shuddered as your orgasm took you by surprise.

“Good?”

Did he really just ask? You nodded as the stars cleared from your eyes.

He withdrew his fingers and put them to his mouth and sucked them clean.

“What about you,” you asked.

“I didn’t bring a condom,” he says.

“I have one,” you said, grabbing your purse and pulling one out.

He narrowed his eyes at you as you pulled him closer to palm his hard-on.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, too,” you admitted before sliding your hands down his pants to feel him.

He groaned as he took the foil packet from you and quickly flipped you to your front, and bent you over the sink.

You pulled your panties down hastily while you watched him tear the packet with his teeth and pull the piece of latex down his length.

“This is gonna be hard and fast or they might think we’re up to something.”

You barely nodded when you gasped as you felt him enter you.

“Fuck,” you cried out.

“Sshh…you have to keep it down, baby.”

Before you agreed, he started to pound relentlessly into you. You gripped the marble counter as you bit back your moans.

His fingers dug into your hips so deeply, you didn’t care if they left bruises the next day.

“God, YN. I missed this pussy so much.”

Your walls clenched further, thinking about those days when you imagined him fucking you this hard. You were lost in the moment.

He was so deep into you that your eyes started to well up.

“Fuuuuuckk,” you whimpered through gritted teeth, your orgasm nearing.

“God, you’re so fucking tight…are you close?”

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out mere seconds before your climax washed over you. You were holding back so much that you could see the whites of your knuckles as you clung on to the bathroom counter.

“Hoooly shit,” he choked out as he held back a stuttered groan while he emptied himself into you, pumping his hips a couple more times, extending his high.

While carefully pulled out of you, you reached up to grab a paper towel to hand over to him to wrap the used condom with.

You grabbed another for yourself intending to clean up.

“Let me,” he offers as he pats your center gingerly before helping pull your panties up.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

“We should head back,” he said as he tucked himself back in.

“Go ahead. I’ll freshen up.”

As he walked out the door, he ran into an older woman who was in shock as she tried to get into the bathroom.

She avoided making eye contact with you as she went into a stall.

After applying another coat of lipstick and straightening your dress, you walked out and back to your table.

“Honey, where were you?” Your mom asked as she blocked your path.

“Sorry, mom. I was at the bar and then I went to the ladies’ room to handle some female issues.”

“What female issues?”

You rolled your eyes. “Tampon…string broke…”

She blushed. “Oh dear—alright, then.” This seemed to placate her.

“What do you think about Taehyung? He’s a cutie, huh?”

“Uh—yeah,” you said as you exchanged glances at him at the table.

“You think you both could work something out?” She asked hopefully.

“Possibly,” you smirked.

By the end of the night, Taehyung offered to drive you home where you pulled him inside and rode him on your couch.

“So uh…this is a little awkward, but—” he says while you both try to catch your breaths.

“My mom really wanted me to see about this girl... And it turns out that I really like her.”

You chuckled. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm. You think she’d let me take her out to dinner tomorrow night?”

You smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. “I know a restaurant she might like…and they’re open late at night, if you’re up to it.”

“Alright then,” he says as he gingerly lifts you off him and heads to the bathroom to clean up.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Reina.

╰Babe, what happened to the blind date? Did you end up calling the pussy whisperer?

You giggled as you typed a response back.

Part 3◥

@deepseavibez

[ctto-becauseimunoriginal]

‘in case of emergency… use me’

ju shorts 01 [11:45] 02 03

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

not a proper smut but it still kind of is? they seem more like snippets than proper writing lmao

contains, of course, nsfw content, shit ton of juyeon, if these were lengthy they’re all filth

(my brain is fried with the amount of story concepts and ideas i have with juyeon pics pinterest is giving me atm)

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

(gender neutral reader if you look at this way: if you’re fem: he’s stimulating your asshole, if you’re male: he’s both fucking into you using his dick and his thumb (best of both worlds))

word count: 433

“in case of emergency, break glass and use me”

the first time you saw the text on the glass panel you let out a snort at the ridiculously cheesy line. you wondered to yourself how the chosen model would make the line work when it’s just that…. cheesy

being the club president of the fashion and design club in your school, your mates worked together with the photography club for a school project which was to create a magazine all on your owns.

this meant to use the creative aspect of the fashion club to work with the photography club and the digital arts club in order to come up with a magazine that was pretty much just a photobook.

coming out of the closet (haha) you were stunned to see juyeon, the star football player, completely owning the set and posing like it was just made for him. well, yes, the set was made just for him, the chosen model, but it totally was his space.

scoffing to yourself once again as your eyes didn’t fail to go over the letters on the glass panel once again,

‘in case of emergency, break glass and use me’

little did you know that was a foreshadowing on how you’d spend your nights the following months.

ass up and your face smushed to the comfort of his sheets as your body rocked back and forth along with the bed frame while juyeon had his eyes focused on the way his dick disappears and comes back out of your hole.

fucking you at a relentless pace didnt seem enough for him as his large palms flat on your ass cheeks spread them apart for him to spit on your tight hole clenching and unclenching repeatedly at the way his thrusts hit you deep and rough.

using the flat of his thumb, he carefully spread his thick saliva around the rim before applying pressure and completely entering you with his thumb.

curling in you, he slowly thumb fucked your tight hole as his thrusting into you didn’t falter one bit.

breathing heavily into his sheets, you muffled out your moans to the best you can as the overwhelming stimulation tightened the knot in your stomach.

“e-eleven”

turning your head to the side, you whimpered out numbers as you count the stinging pain every slap of juyeon’s palms on your ass cheek courses through your body.

“you like it when i use you like a fuck toy don’t you? you love it so much you let me fuck myself into your tight little hole whenever I’d like”

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

find exhibit b: juyeon as your swimming instructor here

find exhibit c: being juyeon’s make up artist here

masterlist