#try joining a marvel fandom or something

[sweetprfct]

friendly reminder that anyone can cosplay/rp any character without having to "copy" anyone LMAO

It's like me saying someone copying me just bc they decided to write a fic about a character.

No one one owns the character besides the writer themselves

[iron-parkr]

I feel like I'm in a little bit of a writer hell. I can feel myself slowly losing motivation to work on my Supernatural fic (which, okay, understandable since I've been going non-stop with it for over a month now). I kinda want to just bite the bullet muse-wise and switch to my DBZ fic, but I can't decide on the POV for the next chapter so I'm stuck until I figure that out. And none of my other fandoms really appeal to me right now.

I'm going just a little bit insane tbh

[wandaslittlebird]

You Look So Good (On Your Knees)

Voyeur!Mommy!Wanda x Daddy!Natasha x Reader

What was supposed to be just a weekly movie night quickly turns into something else when you catch a glimpse of something you weren’t supposed to see.

CW: Voyeurism, threesome, strap-on, flogging, orgasm denial (? A tiny bit?), caught in the act (once again a tiny bit), punishment, dacryphilia, degradation, hair pulling, choking (not really), reader calls WandaNat mommy/daddy

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is for @wandamaximoffsbadgirl. Thank you for all your help! I hope this was worth clawing your way under the door. Writing this (particularly the very end) has put me in a total WandaNat x Reader tailspin so expect some fluffy domestic stuff in the coming weeks.

A/N: I kinda sorta definitely double dipped for this fic, and it’s a spin of a different fic I did for a different fandom. But new fandom new crowd, and I figure almost none of you have read my non-marvel work. So the self-plagiarism is strong, but will probably go unnoticed anyway.

“Wanda? Natasha?” You called into the seemingly empty house.

It was Thursday night, your designated movie night with the couple: your long term friends and fuck buddies. They’d given you a key months ago. So, when you knocked and no one answered you just let yourself in.

You set down your bag in the living room, looking for them around the house. Their cars were both in the driveway. They had to be home. After investigating the first floor, you went upstairs. Maybe they were already in the bedroom waiting for you. That is where you always had your movie nights, after all.

You cracked the door open to find them both on the bed, Natasha underneath Wanda in an intense kiss. Natasha was grinding up against Wanda’s thigh, whining and breathless. You could tell by the way her hips were starting to falter, she was close. They must’ve been at this for a while. You didn’t want to interrupt.

You took a step back, trying to quietly shut the door. Maybe you could just wait downstairs until they finished. But before you could click the door fully shut, you heard Wanda’s commanding voice. “Not so fast, little girl.”

You sighed. You’d been caught. You opened the door back up, revealing Wanda pulling herself away from her wife. She looked at you with a cold glare, curling her fingers, instructing you to come to her.

She had you stand between her legs at the foot of the bed. “Did you not think to knock when coming into mommy and daddy’s room?”

“I-I knocked outside! I couldn’t find you! I was just looking for-“ you desperately tried to explain.

Wanda cut you off with a smirk. “Well, you found us.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh but honey, you did interrupt,” Wanda explained condescendingly. “You interrupted and now daddy doesn’t get to cum.”

“W-what? No but she was so close! Please let her cum mommy,” you pleaded on Natasha’s behalf. You genuinely felt terrible. You knew what that kind of denial felt like and you would never wish it on anyone, especially not your daddy.

Natasha smiled when you jumped to her defense, joining you and Wanda at the end of the bed. She beckoned you over to her, quickly pulling you to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around your waist, whispering into your ear. “It’s okay, baby. You're gonna make daddy cum so good later, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, shivering against her. God, you had hoped movie night would start like this.

“But for right now,” Wanda started. “We’ve got to teach somebody a lesson about knocking, don’t we? It’s your fault daddy didn’t get to cum, so daddy should be allowed to punish you, shouldn’t she?”

You looked to Natasha, who just raised her eyebrows expectantly, and then you nodded. “Yes mommy.”

“That’s our good girl,” Wanda purred, running her hand down the side of your face and lightly pinching your cheek. “Now, daddy’s gonna get you all set up on the bench while mommy goes to get some toys, okay?”

They both stood almost synchronously. Wanda briefly disappeared into the next room while Natasha hoisted you up in her arms, laying you face down on the leather bench next to the bed. She propped the back part up so it turned into more of a seat.

Wanda came from the closet with a long black leather flogger, her implement of choice for this particular scene. She handed it to Natasha, who smiled and gave her a kiss. Wanda sat down next to you, propped up over a seat you were now straddling.

She wiped the hair from your face. “Ready?”

You nodded into the soft, plush leather of the seat. You could already feel yourself easily slipping into that fuzzy space, where all the thoughts, worries, and responsibilities became irrelevant.

Wanda smiled, noticing the way your eyes glazed over. “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said as clearly as you could muster.

Wanda ran the back of her hand down your cheek. You shivered. She was the only lesbian you’d ever meet who always wore acrylics. The sharp point of her stiletto nails on your face sent tingles down your spine. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation.

You felt the leather tassels of the flogger brush lightly against your back. You whimpered, squirming in your seat.

“You don’t have to count, honey,” Wanda soothed. “Just let go. Mommy and daddy are gonna take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything at all.”

With that you felt the first sharp sting of leather snap against your back. You let out a noise between a whimper and moan. Natasha started slow, each hit a distinct sensation on your back, but as she started to pick up the pace, the strikes became less distinct.

In less than five minutes, she’d made a mess of you. You whined and squirmed against the leather seat.

“Aww sweetheart,” Wanda cooed. “Do you need mommy to hold you still while daddy whips you?” Before you could answer, the blows stopped.

“Nooo…” you whined. “Daddy keep going. Please I promise I’ll sit still. Please don’t stop.”

Despite your protest, you felt two strong hands pick you from your seat. “I’m not done, princess,” you heard Natasha’s soft voice say. “But you’ve gotta stop squirming or I’m accidentally going to hit you in the kidneys.”

You were lowered into Wanda’s lap, where your legs were forced wider apart in order to straddle her. It made it significantly harder to move. She locked her hand around your thigh to keep you in place. Her other hand gently massaged your hair. “That’s it honey. Mommy will make sure you stay nice and still.”

Her long nails against your scalp were almost enough to make the thoughts fly from your head. “But… But you’ll get hit.”

Wanda chuckled and kissed your temple. “Daddy has excellent aim, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about anything at all.”

The leather cracked against your back again. It hurt more now that your back was already raw. If not for Wanda’s hand pinning you in place, you might’ve jumped off her lap entirely. You whined wrapping your arms around Wanda.

She cradled your head over her shoulder, gently shushing your cries as she watched Natasha bring the leather down against your back over and over again.

“Mommy…” you whined into her ear. You were trying to ride her thighs like you had ridden the leather seat, but the awkward position prevented you from getting any friction whatsoever. It wasn’t even until Wanda felt drops of warmth on her thighs that she realized why you were whining.

“Aww,” she hummed, “you’re making a bit of a mess on mommy’s lap, baby.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” you mumbled into her shoulder. “I just… it feels so good.”

“All this just from a flogging, sweetheart?” She teased. She would’ve loved to tease you further, but she was genuinely afraid you’d accidentally hurt yourself if she stopped holding you in place, much less if she had her hand between your legs.

You blushed, burying your face into her neck. “Mommy…” you whined when the leather stung your back once again. “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s heart melted at your words. The combination of your pathetic voice begging her for relief and your frail body in her arms made her want to ruin you in a different way. You were just so vulnerable. It would be such a waste to not take advantage of you in this state. “Alright,” She cooed. “I think she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she Tasha?”

Natasha chuckled, but she stopped her flogging. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson, or have you just gone soft for a ‘mommy please’?”

Wanda wrapped her arm around your back, long nails still masterfully massaging your scalp. She rocked you back and forth in her lap. “Oh come on Tasha, look at her: getting all pathetic and leaky in her mommy’s lap. Doesn’t it just make you wanna…”

“Throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress until the only things in her little head are mommy and daddy?” Natasha finished.

“Exactly,” Wanda smiled mischievously. It was such a marvelous thing that she married someone who was always on the same wavelength as she was.

You were promptly picked up out of Wanda’s lap from behind. You whined, reaching out for Wanda.

“Now now,” Natasha chided. “None of that. Mommy’s not going anywhere. She’s gonna be here with you the whole time.”

She guided you to kneel on the bed, nudging your legs apart. Almost instinctively, your hands were crossed at the wrist behind your back.

Wanda hadn’t exactly planned on binding your wrist, but when you sat so perfectly, so expectantly, she could hardly resist.

“Natasha, would you like to bind this little darling's hands for us?” She instructed.

Natasha smiled, eagerly grabbing a length of pink ribbon and getting to work on tying your wrists together. She so loved tying you up. While a simple figure 8 around the wrists would’ve done the trick, she decided instead on a more complex design that would bind you up to the elbow. She knew she had time. Wanda would require a thorough inspection before she’d let Nat fuck you.

Wanda ran a singular finger through your slit. Her cold rings and sharp nail bumped over your clit as she dragged her hand upward. The sensation caused you to jump and whimper. Wanda just chuckled, bringing her finger lightly up your body until it was at your lips. You took her finger obediently between your lips.

“Do you think your ready for daddy to fuck you, baby?” she asked. “Does this needy pussy want daddy’s cock?”

You nodded, trying not to wince as her rings made their way onto your tongue, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Which of daddy’s toys do you want, huh?” She asked, intentionally pushing down on your tongue so you couldn’t talk. “I’ll think I’ll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the ‘mean ridges’? The ones that scrap against your special spot?”

You whined around her finger, giving her the most endearing puppy dog eyes you could possibly muster.

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, “do you not like that one? Maybe you’d prefer it if daddy tied you to the chair and you watched her fuck mommy instead, hmm? Maybe you’d just prefer not to have any orgasms at all?”

You shook your head frantically. You wanted to protest, to promise you’d be good and take that dreaded purple strap, but you couldn’t speak.

She chuckled. “That’s what I thought, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for mommy and daddy, aren’t you?”

You nodded. She pulled her finger from your mouth and tilted your head up to kiss you gently.

“That’s our sweet girl,” she praised. “Aw it looks like daddy’s finished tying you up all pretty. Can you say thank you to daddy?”

You craned your neck to the side, trying to see her behind you. “Thank you, daddy, for tying me up all pretty.”

Natasha laughed, pulling you back towards her by the ribbon. She kissed you and smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. Can you show mommy your pretty ribbon?”

You attempted to turn around to show Wanda the way your hands and arms were intricately bound behind your back, but Natasha pushed you forward into the mattress. You yelped, surprised by the sudden move.

“A present, wrapped special for you, my love,” Natasha said to Wanda, leaning over you to kiss her wife.

“You always know just what to get me,” Wanda breathed against her lips. “Now go get ready, love. I wanna watch you make our sweet little girl cry.”

Natasha climbed off the bed behind you, disappearing into the next room.

Wanda’s nails were against your sore back, rubbing soothing as you lay in wait. You attempted to sit up, but Wanda clicked her tongue. “No, baby,” she chided. “Stay just like this.”

You felt the bed dip as Natasha climbed back on behind you. Her calloused hands lifted your hips so you were kneeling tall. The angle forced your face even further into the mattress. You couldn’t put your hands out to hold yourself up with them tied up behind your back.

Natasha ran the tip of the strap up and down your slit, pulling a muffled moan from your lips. She lined the toy up with your entrance, gently easing it inside. She threw her head back and moaned as she felt each of the ‘mean ridges’ push into you, then she pushed your hips forward and pulled them back, silently commanding you to fuck yourself as you adjusted to her girth.

The toy was, admittedly, slightly too big for you to manage without any discomfort. The ridges cruelly raked against your inner walls, causing you to wince with each movement. But with time, you were able to adjust to feel only a slight, delicious stretch.

After you’d grown to a moderate pace, Natasha took over, grabbing your thighs and pulling them back to meet her own. You let your body go limp, allowing Natasha to control your movements completely. You were putty in her hands.

“Fuck, Wands you should see her from here,” Natasha groaned, looking down and watching the large toy disappear inside of you over and over again. “Fuck it’s like she swallowing me whole. Needy little cunt. Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock can you?”

You tried to bury your face into the sheets to muffle the noises she tore from you, but you were unsuccessful. Without your hands or your arms, your range of motion was severely limited.

Wanda’s eyes went wide and her face cracked into a smile when she heard the first hiccup of a cry. She leaned forward. “Tasha, hold her up. I want to see her face.”

Natasha reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head up so you were face to face with Wanda. She could see the build up of tears in the corners of your eyes and the way your bottom lip quivered, threatening to give way to a sob.

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Are you going to cry for mommy? It’s okay angel, you can cry. Daddy’s not gonna stop fucking you even if you are going to be a sobbing little mess.”

Natasha fucked you harder, nearly pulling all the way out before she slammed back into you again. She kept your head up, forcing you to look at Wanda even as your eyes rolled back and your vision went blurry with tears. Natasha wrapped her hand around your throat, grabbing you just under your chin. She braced her forearm against your chest, pinning you upright against her.

The position only accentuated the effect of the ridges, causing them to bump more aggressively against the spongy spot inside of you. “Aww look at how pathetic you look, crying your little eyes out while daddy fills you with her cock.” Wanda teased.

You felt Natasha’s breath hot against your ear. “Tell mommy how pathetic you are.”

You offered little more than a whine in response. Your bottom lip continued to tremble as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Aww, sweet girl, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Wanda assured. “It’s just me and daddy.”

You weren’t truly embarrassed, if you were being honest. You honestly felt like a masterpiece: a carefully constructed vision that Wanda and Natasha had crafted you into. But you played coy nonetheless. You had more fun when Wanda told you how pathetic you looked anyway.

“Poor thing,” Wanda taunted, “never learned how to take a proper fucking without crying.” Her eyes never left yours. Everything about watching her wife handle your helpless body drove her wild.

“I’m sorry mommy… I can’t help it… daddy’s cock feels so good inside of me,” you panted.

Natasha felt a burst of heat in her own core. Between yours and Wanda’s words she could feel herself creeping towards the edge. She just needed a bit of a different angle. She released her hold on you, causing you to fall helplessly back into the mattress. Wanda gently turned your head, preventing you from muffling yourself in the sheets.

You cursed. The combination of Wanda’s gentle hands and the new angle that hit all your most sensitive spots had you so close to an orgasm. All it would take was just a little more pressure on your clit. Unfortunately, with your hands bound behind your back, you were completely at their mercy.

“Please…” you begged mindlessly. “Please don’t stop. Fuck daddy. Please never stop.” You felt so certain that if Natasha pulled out of you right now, you’d simply die on the spot.

“You want to cum on daddy’s cock so badly don’t you?” Wanda teased. “But you can’t touch yourself. Poor baby.”

Natasha changed her pace. She could feel her own orgasm building as she felt the pull of the toy’s ridges pumping in and out of you. “Beg for mommy to let you cum, baby. I wanna hear you begging like the little slut you are.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed. The words poured out of your mouth nearly as fast as the tears poured from your eyes. “Please I’m all yours. I’m mommy and daddy’s little slut. Please, you can use me whenever you want. I’m just a little toy for mommy and daddy. Please I just need daddy’s cock inside me forever. Mommy please let me cum.”

“That’s a good girl,” Wanda praised, “begging mommy and daddy to use you like a little toy. That’s all you are right? A toy for mommy and daddy’s pleasure?”

“Yes!” you chanted. “Yes! I’m mommy and daddy’s toy. Please let me cum. Please mommy.”

“I wanna see you cum on daddy’s cock. Can you be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock for mommy?” She asked.

Natasha curled her arm around your waist, pinching your clit and milking it between her fingers. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart.

Natasha continued to fuck you as you came, clenching around the strap. The pulsing put the perfect amount of pressure on her own clit, sending her into an orgasm not long after you.

She steadied herself on your hips, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. She pulled the ribbon, and Wanda watched in fascination as the entire thing unraveled itself. They both chuckled as your arms bonelessly flopped down beside you.

Natasha hooked her arm around your waist to prevent you from simply collapsing when she pulled out. She laid you gently on your side before climbing off the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with Wanda.

You whined as the toy left, suddenly feeling terribly empty. Wanda sat down on the bed next to you, chuckling again as she bent over to kiss your temple. “I know, love. It’s just devastating that daddy can’t stay inside you forever, isn’t it?”

You nodded, whining again as you felt her wipe away the remnants of your orgasm.

“You did so well for us, love,” she praised, adjusting your position on the bed so you rested against the pillows. She pulled up some blankets, smiling as you wiggled in blissful content. “Comfy, honey?”

You nodded, reaching your arms out for her.

She crawled into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you. She kissed your forehead, earning herself a dopey, blissed out smile from you. She kissed your cheek, licking up what was left of a few salty tears. She moaned at the taste.

Natasha came out of the bathroom, freshened up in nothing but a pair or boxers. She joined you and Wanda in bed, crawling in next to you. She kissed the top of your head. “Are you girls ready for movie night?”

You nodded. “I already promised mommy she gets my movie night cuddles this time, though.”

“What the hell?” Natasha said jokingly, pulling you forcibly into her lap and berating you with kisses. “Daddy fucks you so hard you can’t think straight and mommy still get the movie night cuddles?”

You giggled, squirming out of her kiss attack. “You always fall asleep anyway!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Because I just fucked you so hard you couldn’t think straight. You wear me out, little girl.”

“Fine, daddy cuddles until you fall asleep, and then mommy cuddles,” you compromise.

“That sounds perfect, princess,” Natasha smiled, kissing you briefly.

You looked to Wanda for her approval. She smiled. “Fine. You can cuddle with daddy for the 20 minutes she’s awake, and then you’re all mine for the rest of the night.”

You wrapped your arms around both of them, pulling them into a tight hug. “Deal.”

[rootedinrevisions]

More Than a Game

SUMMARY: When you join Glen Powell for a night under the bright Texas stadium lights, you expect an evening of football and fun—but what you don’t expect is the sting of an offhand comment that shakes your confidence. As Glen’s world of fans and flashing cameras surrounds you, he’s quick to remind you of where you stand: by his side, as the one who holds his heart. With every protective gesture, from offering you his jacket to placing his prized Stetson on your head, Glen shows the world that you’re not just another face in the crowd—you’re someone special.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I couldn't see the way Glen was looking at the Texas football game and NOT write something about it. I combined a little bit of my idea from seeing him at the game last night with a request I received for protective Glen defending you. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy it!

WARNINGS: Some body shaming/slight bullying. But mostly this is fluff. Implied smut happening later.

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The drive to the game felt like it had gone by in a blur, but your heart was still racing. You kept sneaking glances at Glen, who was effortlessly steering his truck down familiar Austin streets, humming along to the country song playing softly through the speakers. The sight of him in his burnt orange jacket, his dark brown Stetson resting on the dash, made you smile. He was so deeply Texan, so deeply himself, and you loved that about him.

But today was different. Today wasn’t just another day at his place or one of your quiet, private dinners. Today, you were stepping into his world, a world filled with football fans, media, and curious eyes.

“You sure about this?” Glen’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see his warm, brown eyes on you. There was a hint of concern in his gaze, even though his usual confident smile was still there. His hand was resting on your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing you.

You nodded, but the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, you know that, right?” His thumb brushed back and forth against your leg, a soothing motion that made it hard to focus on anything but his touch.

You exhaled, trying to release some of the tension you’d been carrying all morning. “I know, but... I want to. I’m just a little nervous.”

Glen’s hand shifted, his fingers intertwining with yours now as he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. You’re with me, okay? It’s just a game. And no matter what, I’m right here.”

The simplicity of his words, the steady calm in his voice, grounded you in a way that nothing else could. Glen had a way of making everything feel right, even when the rest of the world felt chaotic. You smiled at him, feeling your nerves slowly easing, though a small part of you still wondered what it would be like to step into the spotlight with him.

“I’m right here,” he repeated, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze before resting it back on your thigh. 

The warmth of his palm was a quiet reminder of the man beside you—the man who’d chosen you, wanted you in his life. Even with his hectic schedule, the endless stream of filming projects, press tours, and interviews, Glen always made time for you. No matter how chaotic things got, he’d find a way to carve out moments that were just yours. Whether it was late-night phone calls when he was halfway around the world or surprising you with a weekend getaway after a grueling shoot, he never made you feel like you were competing with his career. He always made you feel like you mattered.

And today, with everything on his plate, he was still here—hand in yours, offering you the steady reassurance that, despite all the noise of his world, you were the part that grounded him.

As you approached the stadium, the sight of fans in burnt orange, waving flags, and cheering already filled the air. Glen’s hand never left you, and as you pulled into the parking lot, he gave your leg one last reassuring squeeze before turning off the engine. He flashed you that signature smile, the one that made your heart skip and leaned in slightly.

“Let’s do this, yeah?”

You nodded, your nerves still there but softened by the fact that Glen was beside you—steady, calm, and exactly the kind of person who could turn an overwhelming moment into something that felt safe.

The hum of the stadium grew louder as you and Glen made your way through the corridors, his hand never leaving yours. Each step you took, the anticipation in the air grew thicker. The faint sound of a band playing echoed through the concrete walls, the roar of the crowd amplifying with every turn.

And then, you stepped out into the open.

The sight was overwhelming at first—the sea of burnt orange stretching as far as the eye could see, flags waving proudly in the stands, the stadium alive with energy. The lights beamed down on the field, casting a golden hue across the manicured grass. The sheer size of it, the passion radiating from the crowd—it was more than you had imagined. 

For a moment, you stood still, taking it all in, the magnitude of where you were sinking in. This was Glen's world, and it was as vibrant and electric as he’d always said. You felt his eyes on you before you even turned to him. When you glanced up, you found him smiling at you, a look of quiet pride and happiness on his face. He loved this. It wasn’t just the game, the culture, the tradition—it was sharing it with you. Seeing you take in the thing he loved most with such wonder lit up something in him.

His hand gently squeezed yours, pulling you closer as he murmured, "You alright?"

You nodded, smiling as you glanced back out at the stadium. "Yeah. This is... it's incredible."

He chuckled softly, his voice warm with affection. "I told you." His gaze lingered on you, his eyes soft as he watched you soak in the moment. "I'm glad you're here with me. Means a lot."

You looked up at him, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. You meant a lot to him. Even in the midst of all this—the noise, the chaos, the spectacle—his focus was still on you. Glen Powell, the Texas boy with a larger-than-life career and a love for this sport, was standing here, looking at you like you were the most important part of this moment.

Your heart swelled, and as you shared a quiet smile with him, you knew—this was more than just a game. It was a part of who Glen was, and you were honored to be a part of it, a part of him.

You could see the players warming up, coaches barking orders, and media personnel buzzing around, all while the game raged on. It was an atmosphere you could only describe as electric.

But then, the attention started to shift. One by one, people began noticing Glen. A few fans from the crowd above called his name, waving enthusiastically as they snapped pictures from their phones. It wasn’t long before a group of people nearby on the sidelines approached him—some familiar faces, others eager fans who clearly recognized him. Glen responded with his signature easy charm, greeting each person with that warm, affable smile you knew so well.

But through it all, he never let go of your hand.

If anything, his grip tightened slightly, reassuring you that even in the middle of the excitement, you were his priority. As he talked to a couple of reporters who recognized him from past interviews, he kept you close, standing just a step behind him, your shoulder brushing his arm.

Every so often, Glen would glance back at you, as if to check in, his eyes softening every time they met yours. His hand would occasionally shift to the small of your back, that familiar warmth spreading through you as he kept you grounded in this whirlwind of activity.

"Hey, I want you to meet someone," Glen said, his voice filled with excitement as he turned to you. 

He introduced you to one of the assistant coaches, and a couple of old friends from his time at the University of Texas. Each time, he spoke your name with quiet pride, like he was sharing a part of his world with them. And every time he did, you felt your nerves ease a little more.

As the two of you made your way further down the sidelines more and more people seemed to start to recognize Glen. Glen shook hands and greeted them warmly, but never let go of you. Even as more people started to crowd around, he kept you close by his side, his hand drifting to the small of your back when someone leaned in to say hello.

But as the attention on Glen grew, so did the whispers. At first, it was just a few curious glances, the kind you expected when people recognized a celebrity.

But then, as you stood by Glen’s side, a voice behind you made your stomach drop.

"Wait, is that his girlfriend?" a girl whispered, her tone laced with disbelief.

"Yeah, I think so," someone else replied, not even bothering to lower their voice. "I thought he'd be dating someone… prettier."

Your heart sank, the casual cruelty of their words cutting deeper than you expected. You tried to keep your face neutral, but it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. For a moment, the excitement of the game, the energy of the crowd—all of it faded into the background, replaced by the sharp sting of their comment.

Prettier. The word echoed in your head, twisting your stomach into knots. You swallowed hard, trying to push it away, but the insecurity started creeping in, faster than you could stop it. You suddenly felt out of place, self-conscious in a way you hadn’t before. Here, in this world that Glen seemed to fit into so effortlessly, you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t measure up.

Glen must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, because he turned toward you, his smile faltering as he noticed the look on your face. His hand slipped from your back to your arm, gently tugging you closer. 

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You hesitated, your eyes darting to the ground as you forced a smile. 

"Yeah, I’m fine," you said, trying to brush it off, but your voice came out smaller than you intended.

But Glen wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his brows knitting together as he looked at you with that gentle but piercing gaze, the one that always seemed to know when something was bothering you. "What happened?"

You swallowed, debating whether to say anything. It felt silly, childish even, to let a stranger’s comment get under your skin. But it did, and Glen could see it.

After a beat, you sighed and leaned in, lowering your voice. "Someone made a dumb comment," you murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear.

His brow furrowed further, his hand gently rubbing your arm. "What did they say?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

You bit your lip, your pulse quickening as you replayed the words in your head. "They said…" you hesitated, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "They thought you'd be dating someone prettier."

For a second, Glen didn’t say anything. His expression hardened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as the meaning of your words sank in. You could see the protective instinct kicking in, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area behind you, searching for the source of the comment. It was subtle, but you could feel the shift in him, the way his body tensed, ready to defend you.

But instead of turning to confront the person, he took a breath and refocused on you. His hand moved from your arm to your face, gently cradling your cheek as he leaned in closer to you.

"Look at me," he said quietly, his voice steady and full of warmth.

You blinked up at him, the noise of the stadium fading into the background as you met his gaze.

"Don’t listen to them," Glen said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "They don’t know you. They don’t know us. And they sure as hell don’t know what they’re talking about."

You felt a lump rise in your throat as his words washed over you. It was hard to shake the doubt, but Glen’s presence, his unwavering confidence in you, made it easier to breathe.

He smiled a soft, affectionate smile that was just for you. "You’re the most beautiful person here, and not just because of how you look," he continued, his voice low but firm. "But because of who you are. And I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. Ever."

Your heart swelled at his words, the weight of the earlier comment slowly lifting. Glen leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with that familiar warmth that always made you feel safe.

"And just so you know," Glen added, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, "if anyone says anything else, they’ll have to deal with me."

"You’re too good to me," you whispered.

Glen’s grin softened, his hand sliding back down to your waist as he pulled you close. "Nah," he said, pressing another kiss to your temple, "I’m just lucky to have you."

As the crisp Texas air settled around you, Glen’s attention shifted. He could feel the slight chill in the air, and without missing a beat, he glanced over at you.

“You cold?” he asked, his voice soft yet full of care.

You shook your head at first, but Glen wasn’t having it.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his leather jacket, the scent of him—spice and something distinctly Glen—filling the space between you. “Put this on.”

You hesitated for a second, but he was already holding it out for you, his hands poised to help you slide your arms through. As you slipped into the warmth of his jacket, Glen’s hands rested lightly on your shoulders, adjusting it to fit just right. He stepped back, eyes scanning you for a moment with a satisfied smile.

Just when you thought the gesture was over, Glen reached up, taking his dark brown Stetson off his head. Your eyes widened in surprise—this was Glen’s favorite hat, the one you knew he was almost possessive over. It was a custom one that was a gift from his parents a few years back. It had a "Hook 'Em" logo on the back. He never let anyone wear it. So when he carefully placed it on top of your head, tipping it just so, you couldn’t help the confused laugh that bubbled out of you.

“You... you don't let anyone wear this,” you said, your voice full of disbelief as you adjusted the brim.

Glen’s smile widened, his hazel eyes gleaming with amusement. “You aren’t just anyone,” he replied, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. “You’re someone special.”

The warmth in his voice matched the flutter of your heart, sending a rush of heat through your body despite the cool air. Your fingers tightened around the lapels of his jacket, pulling it closer to you, feeling the warmth of him linger in the leather. The smile that crept onto your face was involuntary, the way his words wrapped around you more effectively than any jacket could.

Glen’s hands found your waist again, tugging you closer until you were wrapped up in him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered just for you, his breath hot against your skin. “You remember what it means to wear a man’s cowboy hat, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, the playful challenge clear in his tone.

“Oh, I remember,” you murmured back, glancing up at him with a glint in your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill my end of the deal... back at your place.”

Glen chuckled, low and satisfied, pulling you into another hug before stepping back. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, winking as he tilted the brim of the Stetson down slightly, casting a shadow over your face. It was such a simple, playful moment, but the intimacy behind it left a warmth simmering between the two of you.

With his arm around your waist, you both continued walking down the sidelines, navigating through a sea of fans and sidelong glances. Glen kept you close, his hand secure around your hip as he smiled and waved at familiar faces. 

But his grip on you tightened a little when you both overheard a comment from a nearby fan. “What does he see in someone like…her,” the girl muttered to her friend, her voice loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough to think she could get away with it.

The words hit you like a jolt, and you instinctively drew in closer to Glen, trying to brush it off, but the sting lingered. 

Glen must have felt your reaction, sensed the shift in your mood, because before you could even fully process the comment, his hand slid protectively to the small of your back, gently pulling you even closer.

“Because she’s gorgeous,” Glen said, not loud enough for the girls to hear, but just for you. His voice was full of certainty, leaving no room for doubt. “Don’t ever forget that.”

His words were a balm, softening the sharp edges of your insecurity. You smiled up at him, thankful for his ability to ground you with just a few words. Glen grinned back, and then, as if to solidify his point, he reached up and adjusted the Stetson on your head again, a playful reminder of who you were with.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his thumb tracing comforting circles against your side.

You nodded, mustering up a more genuine smile now. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

He looked satisfied with that, giving you a light squeeze before glancing around the stadium again. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something a little more casual, “we don’t have to stay down here. The suites are up top, and we could have a little more privacy. What do you say?”

The idea of some quiet away from the lingering eyes sounded appealing, especially if it meant getting to spend more time with Glen without the constant buzz of onlookers. “That sounds perfect,” you said, leaning into him slightly.

Glen’s grin widened as he pulled you in closer and guided you toward the stairs. “Good. Let’s go before you get too comfortable in my hat,” he teased, his tone light, but his hand on you steady and reassuring.

As you made your way up toward the suites, the tension from earlier slowly melted away, replaced by the warmth of Glen’s unwavering presence. You might have been in the middle of a crowd, but with his jacket around your shoulders and his Stetson perched on your head, it was clear to anyone watching—you were his, and he was yours.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

For your celebration about she fell first but he fell harder, with clark kent or logan?

It Got Worse

Clark Kent x Wayne!reader

Bruce Wayne thought that the worst thing to ever happen to him was his darling little sister developing a crush on his best friend, but oh boy, it gets worse.

Warnings: reader is Bruce’s adopted sister, Clark is a SIMP, fluff, pregnancy

WC: 487

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

“Kal, stop staring at her. You look like a fucking creep.” Clark snapped back to reality, shaking himself from his daydreams. Bruce glared at him with a stern expression, his eyes dark with a raging anger reserved only for those who royally pissed him off.

Clark blushed and looked away, although he was conscious not to look even vaguely in your direction anymore. “It’s not being creepy, it’s being in love.” He retorted with a pout. Bruce scoffed.

“Actually the technical term is stalking.”

“She’s my fiancée.”

“She’s my sister.” Clark harrumphed and slumped down in the conference room chair. Obviously Bruce was going to get the kryptonite from his “super secret safe” if Clark even dared think about looking your way again, so the Kryptonian focused his ears and began to listen to your heartbeat instead. “Don’t.” Batman growled.

“I wasn’t even doing anything!” He whined, throwing his arms up into the air like a petulant toddler. 

“You two are already getting a whole day where the two of you can fawn all over each other and I am being forced to be there. So please, spare me the love-sick glances and blatantly inappropriate thoughts you are having about my little sister, until then.” Considering that the end of the conversation, Bruce turned back to his work, assuming that Clark would follow his lead. 

But instead there was a rush of air, causing the documents that had been carefully laid out on the table to scatter everywhere. With a heaving sigh, the older man looked up to see his future brother-in-law cradling you in his arms, lathering your face with sloppy kisses as you screamed with laughter.

Yet Bruce couldn’t help but smile. He remembered only two years ago when you would frequently collapse onto his couch, spouting about how in love with Clark you were and no matter what you did, he never reciprocated. In desperation for saving not only your happiness, but also his own sanity, Bruce had outright told Superman to ask you out. And he had been living to regret it ever since. 

Yes, you were happy and so was his best friend but the honeymoon phase had never ended. That led to an overabundance of pda, way way too many pet names, and a legitimate concern that Clark would drop dead the moment he saw you in your wedding gown.

You were trying to push your fiancé away, but he wouldn’t budge, instead one large hand slipped under your large shirt to cup your soft stomach. You placed your own hand on top of his as your lips met in an achingly soft kiss. Clark’s blue eyes sparkled with tears as you cooed something to him that your brother could not hear.

By the time the hero fell to his knees to kiss where his hand had just occupied, the realisation slapped Bruce in the face. This has just gotten worse.

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

It's accidentally been 3 months since I posted my last fic round up, so this post contains months worth of reading and so is much longer than normal. If you're curious, this round up includes the following fandoms (in this order):

ATLA

DC (Batman) & Danny Phantom Crossover

DC (Batman)

Star Wars (Prequels)

The Goblin Emperor

The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)

James Bond

Marvel (Spider-Man)

Red, White & Blue

Stranger Things

King Falls AM (Podcast)

ATLA

Academic Excerpts and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Studied by Scholars Who Make It Their Full Time Job by Vinces

Zuko and Aang conspired early to keep the Firelord’s identity as the Blue Spirit a secret. Zuko unmasked would only make his spot on the Dragon Throne more tenuous during a time of upheaval in the post-war Fire Nation.

Nevertheless, the post-war academics are on it. Who was the Blue Spirit?

Aang and Zuko try their best to play it cool.

Aang’s pretty successful…

Zuko? Well, he’s trying his best. -- Or where two-thirds of the story is historical “articles” set in and referencing the world of Avatar and one third is Zuko (and Aang) navigating a world where there are academic papers speculating about the prison breakout they did together.

In Utter Hones-tea by agooseinhiding

The Jasmine Dragon has been formally invited to join the Earth King's retinue as he takes the monumental first step onto Fire Nation soil since the start of the Hundred-Year War! Truly, an honor.

Unfortunately, "The Jasmine Dragon" includes Li, the owner's grumpy nephew with an outrageously bad haircut and a wardrobe that's solely green, who knows way too much about the Avatar and his teachers, and who swears on his honor that he's totally, definitely not the Fire Lord.

Somehow, the other tea servers don't believe him. But they've never gotten a chance to prove it (or disprove it, in some cases) until now.

The Jasmine Dragon is going to the Fire Nation, and Hua Ming is going to show once and for all that shop-famous enigma Li is Lord Zuko himself, or she's going to die trying.

(She is going to die on this trip.)

Ft.: General Iroh playing the biggest prank in Fire Nation history, a five thousand yuan bet, and the Jasmine Dragon tea servers.

Taking a Break (In) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)

Part 1 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)

After a few agonizingly slow seconds of exhausted, confused pondering, Zuko decided there was only one logical conclusion. “You’re right," he told the assassins, "I’m here to help you kill the Fire Lord.” Like a genius.

Caldera City is holding a festival to celebrate finally having enough funds to hold a festival! Although Zuko originally deemed himself too busy to go, Sokka managed to cajol him into attending his own party, in a knock-off Blue Spirit disguise for security purposes. Zuko sneaks back into the palace right in time to catch a group of assassins sneaking out. They failed to find the Fire Lord and assume he's reinforcements.

Zuko needs to find who ordered a strike on him before they do something stupid, like order a second one. Obviously, the most reasonable thing to do is join the assassins and hope they don’t figure out who he actually is. Obviously. There’s literally no other option.

Feat. Zuko's only two coping mechanisms (mortal peril and improv theater), the world's most incompetent hit team, and another knock-off Blue Spirit who's determined to prove this "Li" isn't who he says he is.

Kindred Spirits (sent from my iphone) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)

Part 2 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)

Zuko just wanted to take a breather after a stressful political summit in the Earth Kingdom. Unfortunately, some passerby with good eyesight spotted him entering an apartment through the door as Li and leaving through the window as the Blue Spirit, right before he left for the Fire Nation. The Earth Kingdom puts two and two together and, appropriately, gets four: the Blue Spirit has kidnapped Li, and presumably the other Fire Nation refugees who have been disappearing across Ba Sing Se. They must save Li and bring the Blue Spirit to justice!

Unwilling to reveal himself as either the Blue Spirit, wanted in both the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom for treason and petty larceny, or Li, who'll draw attention to his uncle's teahouse, Zuko does the next most reasonable thing: he panics.

Meanwhile, Mai, Suki, and Toph are busy investigating who's really at fault for the disappearances of these refugees, King Kuei has realized he can get away with some truly ridiculous antics as king, and the newspapers are getting suspicious of how protective Fire Lord Zuko is of these two random people he apparently picked up in Ba Sing Se. What's up with that, anyway?

Relieved, with honors by redrobin1989

A Fire Lord’s duty is to his people; Zuko seeks out the last Fire Nation soldiers of the Hundred Year War to send them home.

ASYLUM by asfearlessasamango 

If Zuko was Azula, trapped in a golden palace with no family but Fire Lord Ozai for years. If Zuko was Azula, now trapped in a marble asylum with no way out that he can see. If Sokka visited. And the complications of a whole world followed.

DC/ Danny Phantom Crossover

Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae

“Hey, I do I... Do I know you?” Danny asks, a hand coming up to brush something off Tim’s cheek. “No,” Tim says. “We haven’t met.” “Oh, no, I do.” Danny says, and he smiles, teeth white and sharp. “You’re that guy who rearranged my guts!” Rearranged his- Tim glances at the knotted scars on the boy’s abdomen. He can see the shine and shadow of haphazard stitches that weren’t meant to hold forever, that tore and healed over. His- This- “WHAT!?” Nightwing shouts, equal parts confused and delighted. Tim’s fucked.

OR: Danny Fenton's been in GIW captivity for 4 months.

Tim Drake gets kidnapped by the GIW one Tuesday evening in May.

Considering how many of the Bats and the Birds have died and come back to life, it was only a matter of time for some people interested in the afterlife to come poking around. The detectives can't seem to uncover any information about the mysterious white vans, however.

And they keep losing the mysterious boy who seems to be the one person in Gotham to know anything at all.

DC

it's a long climb up the dusty mountain by whitegeraniums (puertoricansuperman) 

"The mission went," Dick echoes, a faint smile on his face. He's still in Bruce's arms, though he could easily escape if he wanted to. Something warm kindles deep, deep in Bruce's chest. Then he thinks of the other Dick, tense as a wire in his arms, shuddering at his touch.

"He had children." He says it without thinking. Dick's expression darkens. He knows where Bruce went tonight, and Bruce watches him piece together the implications of alternate dimension and evil Batman and children.

Or: When you've hit rock bottom, the only place left to go is up.

Star Wars

Misunderstanding Master by bgyeetusthefetus

“A beer please,” Obi-Wan said, his voice barely rising above the din. He placed the credits on the bar, his fingers shaking slightly as he did so./

The bartender looked down at him with a frown, his brows furrowing as he took in Obi-Wan's thin frame. “How old are you, kid?”

Obi-Wan shifted uneasily, suddenly aware of the attention he was drawing from the patrons around him. “It’s not for me,” he replied quickly, his voice steady despite the tremor in his fingers. “I’m just fetching it for my Master.”

Master is a bit of a loaded word in the wider galaxy.

The Goblin Emperor

Date With The Night by DontStopHerNow

Csethiro and Csevet conspire to give Maia a night outside the Alcethmeret.

Unfortunately, when Beshelar finds out, they have a lot of explaining to do.

queen of peace by astardanced

Csethiro broke abruptly free of the pack and came sweeping towards him with hands outstretched, probably hoping to do damage control.

“Serenity,” she said, ignoring her father, who seemed to be wanting to prompt her like a conductor. “We are honoured to have you here.”

Maia had very little experience with the specific social mortifications of an embarrassing family— his own having simply chosen to forget he existed— and it wouldn’t have been fair to make a judgement, but there was already an undeniable tinge of the ridiculous to the entire affair.

(Awkward dinners are part and parcel of the Emperor's role... but the Ceredada really are spectacularly embarrassing.)

The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)

i'm not the same as i was by perchancetosleep

The imminent return to Evermore has him jumping at shadows, and he is already at the end of his rope. Every ounce of energy every single day goes to pretending to be what is required of him—he has to override years of training (away, not towards) to perform adequately on the court, to uphold the Trojan standard, and he has to pretend that while he does it he is a functioning human and not simply a discarded toy too broken to be played with anymore.

It’s why he spent his time in Palmetto when he could walk watching every single Trojans interview and game he could, so he could memorize their speeches and their strategies and their game play so that he would not be a burden. Jean knows what he owes his new masters. And he will not fail.

(Or, Jean tries to fake it until he makes it at USC)

oh i was raised on little light by perchancetosleep

On the third Thursday of every month, Jean walks seven miles across town to visit his sister.

This is the deal that he’s struck with his sister’s foster—no, adoptive now—family. They used to claim that he could visit whenever he wanted, and it used to be Jean’s ability to sneak out of the Moriyama’s home that limited the frequency, but of course the Master had figured out where he was going, and now for years they’ve had him in their ear, telling them how Jean is unstable and disruptive and getting into fights and doing drugs, and of course they don’t want Elodie around that. She’s had a hard enough life as it is, and her good-for-nothing brother is just going to bring trouble and pain. But that won’t stop Jean from showing up, and so this is the deal that he had to make.

Jean will take whatever time he can get.

please i've been on my knees, change the prophecy by perchancetosleep

He can almost pretend, sitting in a warm house at the tiny kitchen table listening to Elodie talk about her dance lessons, that everything is normal. He can pretend that he can stay, that Elodie and him were never separated, and that everything is normal and he is good and he will get to keep this. But Jean had died in that fucking basement years ago, and he’s getting tired of forcing his body to keep going. Sure, Kevin had found a way out and made it to college and made a life, but he had a father waiting for him on the outside.

All Jean has waiting for him at home is a set of guardians that are going to be pissed off that he’s failing chemistry and that he didn’t do his chores and that he’s alive.

James Bond

Begin Again by Snoweylily

M held out the file in her hand and Q automatically took it. “It needs the new Quartermaster’s signature”. The reminder of the Major’s death, the kindly old beta who saw him for him, brought tears to his eyes, and he desperately hoped that the smoke would hide it. “... Okay. Who do I give it to?” “It’s quite a few years ahead of schedule, and quite frankly I’m not even sure if it’s going to work, but Boothroyd always spoke highly of you and you are one of the very few TSS workers still remaining. I’ve spoken to R, the only survivor with seniority over you, and she is quite adamant to remain in her current position with your approval... Which leaves you”. M held out a pen. “Quartermaster”.

Or, “I don’t just have one alpha”. Q grinned, bloody and feral. “I have nine. They’re called the double-0 program; perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

Red, White & Blue

darling, be gentle by SkyGem

In the time that he’s been dating Henry, Alex has been on the receiving end of no less than four shovel talks.

Or.

Okay.

That number may vary, depending on what exactly counts as a shovel talk.

Marvel

Intentions by MellarkandArt

“You’re just- you’re a really great kid and-“

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, suddenly feeling very, very sick.

“Mhm?” Mr. Stark hummed, patting his knee.

“I- I don’t think I can do this. I’ve tried really hard to m-make myself want it, b-but I just don’t. I know you- but I can’t. I just can’t.”

Mr. Stark removed his hand and looked at Peter questioningly. “What are you talking about?”

Peter drew in a shaky breath, feeling the burn as tears fell down his cheeks. “I know you want me to be your- your- I don’t know, but I just can’t be that for someone again, it’s so- so much, and you’re married, you have a daughter, and it’s- I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s too- and I don’t even like you like that, I- I’m sorry.”

Now he’d done it, now Mr. Stark would be looking at him with a heartbroken expression, hurt and betrayed and…

Peter looked up at the man only to see nothing but shock and confusion on his features.

“Peter… Do you think that I have… romantic feelings for you?”

OR: Sometimes people’s intentions aren’t always clear, and Peter has been burnt often enough to know not to play with fire. Irondad, NOT ST*RKER, I promise!!

Stranger Things

Shovel Talks by unkreativstermensch (+ podfic)

“Oh,” Steve says. Then again, “oh,” a little quieter. His expression changes; from confusion to something pained almost. “Mr Munson, I don’t…” he takes a deep breath, his voice a little shaky as he continues. “I don’t think he…I don’t think he likes me like that.”

He doesn’t say “it’s not like that.” Neither does he say “I’m not like that.”

That’s the first thing Wayne notices.

or: Wayne decides to give Steve the shovel talk, only to realize he might not be the one needing one

King Falls AM

i can tell that we are gonna be friends by ace8013, flashsideways 

Part 1 of when the radio lights came on (This entire series would be on this round up if it wasn't so damn long)

“I’m graduating this week and I know this is weird and that I met you like a few days ago but… They like, give you tickets? And I don’t know who to invite.” Sammy blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Is this- are you inviting me to your high-school graduation?”

or, Ben graduates from college on May 13, 2015.

to a given standard of normal by neversaydie

Part 5 of cock it and pull it (This series too!!)

The first couple of weeks are… difficult.

Some things are the same. The Jack Sammy remembers sitting across the desk from him in their dingy college radio studio, rambling about the possibility that the math building was haunted; the guy who pushed him into any risky broom closet or empty office he could find to make out, because he was always an adrenaline junkie even if it gave Sammy a heart attack; the Jack who roasted Sammy for his dad jokes even though his were quantifiably worse - he's still there. Mostly intact.

Other things… other things have changed.

[Jack and Sammy start building a life after the void]

the only hoax i believe in by taizi 

“Sammy,” Ben says. “You gotta eat.”

Sammy opens his eyes. He isn’t hungry, but he pushes himself upright anyway. 

“You better not have tried cooking again,” he says, aiming for light-hearted, angling for a smile. 

He nails it. Ben’s eyes go bright and he scoots off the bed with a grin. Not so much fooled as willing to play along, grateful for the semblance of normalcy. 

Fake it till you break it, Sammy thinks with the same grim determination that got him through all of high school, and all of college, and every second of every miserable day without Jack and before Ben. 

He gets out of bed. 

Wish You All The Best by FoxGlade

“This is gonna sound like a stupid question,” Ben says suddenly, “but what year is it?”

Well, Ben has said stupider things. “2018,” Sammy answers. Ben looks to Jack, who looks to Emily, who narrows her mouth into a thin line.

“That’s… maybe a problem,” she says.

(The Christmas magic of King Falls strikes again, giving Sammy a firsthand account of his own future.)

for a higher love by helloearthlings (everything this author writes would also be in this round up if I could)

“Supreme Court legalized same sex marriage this morning, 5-4.”

Ron could tell in an instant that Sammy already knew; something about him crumpled when Ron said it out loud.

God, the guy was – sad about this? Ron’s quiet suspicion about which way Sammy swung was absolutely confirmed – the straight and narrow of King Falls might be all woe is me over the fact that they didn’t have a monopoly on marriage anymore, but no one looked this wrecked if the decision didn’t affect them personally. The question was why this had put Sammy in some sort of drunken stupor.

[Ron, Sammy, and Pride in King Falls.]

[dragon-chica]

Cryptid Hunting - Eddie & Venom x Reader

Fandom: Marvel / Venom

Dear gods it's been a long time since I wrote but this duo? marry me.

You have a love for monsters and stories, folklore and cryptozoology especially the more interesting creatures, in particular.

Eddie once had asked you if you really believe in all those stories, legends and cryptids and folklore. He found them interesting and entertaining, especially some of your favorites you shared with him, but didn't consider a lot on the subject.

"Babe, your body contains an alien slime that cured your cancer and eats your ass. This is just a cursed child that flew out a chimney and haunts New Jersey. No offense, Venom, honey."

"NONE TAKEN."

"That's fair."

You had always wanted to try cryptid hunting just for fun, but could never convince anyone to join you for a night of tomfuckery in a creepy area with legends and rumors.

Eddie though, had no excuse.

Your reasoning was, he's a journalist, he should investigate this story, spinning your laptop around with an article on a chosen cryptid for him to look at while you also read about it from one of your cryptozoology and folklore books.

Your second reason was, he's your boyfriend and "Please, please, please, please baby?"

Which of course he could never say no to, not that it helps that Venom is also now pleading along with you.

"YES EDDIE, PRETTY PLEASE? WE CAN FIND IT AND EAT IT. AN EXOTIC SNACK, AND WE WILL IMPRESS THEM."

Both his lovers pleading for him to do something? He's a lovestruck sucker as is, even if it is walking around like a couple of dumbasses in the dark. He's done weirder.

You honestly didn't actually expect him to agree though, and are ecstatic that he does.

Your excitement and the big kiss on his cheek is already worth it he thinks.

"SEE EDDIE? WE ARE AMAZING PARTNERS. MORE CRYPTIDS AND MORE KISSES."

You make a day out of it, a roadtrip.

With snacks. Lots of snacks, and one guy at a gas station that was just awful. "HE DIDN'T TASTE VERY GOOD EITHER."

All in all, Eddie was having a good day. Time off spent with his favorite beings, a scenic drive, wearing shoes. Not really expecting much of the "cryptid hunt" besides walking around in the dark and talking to the woods like ghosthunters.

But you and Venom were hyped, as soon as you parked in a secluded area and geared up with flashlights and a video camera, he didn't know who was more excited.

Venom was hovering over his shoulder, head whipping around so much he was spinning Eddie as he went, following you "to a good spot."

You sat in the woods for awhile together waiting for it to get dark, wrapped in a cozy hoodie and leaning against Eddie while reading to him different stories from one of your cryptid books.

When darkness settled around you and something could be heard walking through the brush, you flashlight spun toward it.

"DO NOT WORRY MORSEL, WE ARE THE LETHAL PROTECTOR. YOU ARE SAFE."

Eddie did not expect, at the sound of something moving closer in the woods, for Venom to jump out of him, and into you. Backing up with black good around your hand now shaking with the beam towards it.

"What the hell V?" he whisper shouted while your other hand covered your mouth trying to hide a snicker.

"THAT'S ENOUGH HUNTING FOR TONIGHT."

A weird trilling sound came for the forest and Venom encased you, going full form and grabbing Eddie over your shoulder before sprinting back to the card and tossing him inside.

Your flashlights, heavy duty and bought just for this, were long forgotten while multiple tentacles rummaged around Eddie before finding the keys and slamming them in the ignition.

"What's wrong V? i thought you wanted to eat a cryptid for me?"

You try to soothe and pet him while Eddie gets his bearings again.

"NOT HUNGRY. THE UGLY MAN GAVE US INDIGESTION. BESIDES, EDDIE WAS SCARED."

"HEY!"

Eventually, against Venom's protests on Eddie being a chicken and too scared to continue, Eddie trekked back to retrieve your gear, Venom back with him and switching from full cowl to hiding inside him again while you waited in the car.

[gffa]

It is still absolutely a marvel to me how much BATFAMILY fic I have been reading and enjoying, it's been awhile since I've gone at such a sustained fever pitch so consistently, which is because this fandom keeps putting out fic that makes me fall in love all over again, along with all the comics I've been reading and enjoying. I am so delighted by how I can bounce around various eras or characters (well, let's be fair, I still have a Dick Grayson Problem That I Am Making Your Problem Too) and there's so much to read that I'm having trouble keeping up!

Join me in having the best problem: Too much good fic to read, because I swear that even when I'm crying because fic has punched me in the feelings, I'm still having a great time and it's definitely not a trap to lure you all into crying with me. Well, unless you're into that. And, in that case, READ AND CRY AND/OR MELT INTO GOO WITH ME, BECAUSE FANDOM IS PROVIDING.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Step One: Learning to Catch by TheBlueMoo, dick & bruce, 2k     “Okay, now extend your arms.” It was jarring, Bruce reflected, to be taking instructions from his nine-year-old ward. He was trying to think of it as receiving lessons from an expert gymnast instead, but it wasn’t really helping. or Dick freaks out during training one night, and Bruce isn't entirely sure why ✦ the quiet noise by orphan_account, dick & clark & jim (& bruce), 3.4k     When Batman is in surgery after a stab wound to the lung, Commissioner Gordon sits with Robin at the hospital as they wait for someone from the league to arrive. ✦ The art of falling in the rain by Bob_the_bastard, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.4k     Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been an issue, ordinarily Bruce would have taken a few steps back, caught his breath and continued on. But that night wasn’t normal. ✦ Our roots will not whither away by KrazySuperGirl, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 6.4k     Bruce and Dick return to Gotham. There are plenty of problems and plenty of good days. ✦ Will Protect You From All Around You by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 3k     Bruce has always expected that one day he'll wake up and feel like a Real Adult, but it hasn't happened yet. Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy? ✦ Fly South by SonoSvegliato, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.9k     Birds fly south in winter. Robin leaves in the summer. ✦ Vertigo by tinycrown, dick & bruce & ollie & cast, 1.8k     After being ambushed by Count Vertigo's men, Batman's partner isn't doing so well. Green Arrow observes. ✦ Friends by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k     The manor loomed large, surrounded by acres of manicured grass and trees bursting with autumnal colors that made Dick feel like he was gazing at a forest on fire. He was distantly aware that the scene in front of him was incredible, something out of a storybook. He should have been amazed and even grateful, but all he could think was, 'Mom would have loved this.' ✦ There For You by Val_Creative, dick & bruce & cast, 2.4k     Snapshots of how Robin came to be Batman's trusted partner and how Dick became Bruce's beloved son. /Standalone. No pairings. ✦ tummy troubles by brandywine421, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.5k     Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed and warily pulled back the covers. Dick blinked at him with wide, sad blue eyes. "What's wrong?" "Don't feel good," he murmured, scowling when Bruce curled his hand against his cheek. "My stomach hurts." ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k     “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Whole, but not hale by Fae_Winter, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 1.5k     Bruce was never listening to Clark again, damnit ✦ Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes by catboysam, dick & bruce, 1k     Bruce wishes, as he has wished every minute of every day for nearly 20 years, that things were different for himself. But now he also wishes that for Dick. No child should have to experience what they have. But he really is selfish, it seems, because at the same time, how could he possibly want to give up a single second with this little miracle in his arms? ✦ yet to be friends by rxsecret, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 2.3k     It's the annual Wayne Gala, and one of the few reporters allowed at the event just so happened to be from Metropolis. ✦ And I’ll look into your eyes to find out if I’m real by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick, 1.6k     Bruce wants a lot of things. A bath. Seeing his family. Not having been missing for a whole year. He wants Dick to wake up and realize he’s not a hallucination.

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ medicine by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, ~1k     “We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.” “Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.” Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.” ✦ Someday All Of This Will Go Away by WanderIntoFics, dick & bruce, alternate version character death, 2.3k     Bruce never stopped telling Dick he loved him. It takes a heart-wrenching and terrifying experience with an alternate future Bruce for Dick to realize that maybe he stopped being able to hear it. ✦ vacation town by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.6k     Normally, Dick wouldn't enjoy recovering from a stab wound from a poisoned knife, but he has to admit, it's nice to be home. ✦ all i can by emavee, dick & bruce, 1.7k     Whatever they injected Dick with is taking away his senses. Bruce tries to hold on for both of them. ✦ my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm by emavee, dick & bruce, 5.6k wip     Five times Dick held Bruce's hand, and one time Bruce held his. ✦ Moving on by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & bruce & cast, 2.7k     When he’d been called to Gotham, Dick had expected to do the job and then get moving to the next thing, and then the next, and then the next. An abrupt meeting with the side of a building interrupts his plans.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Chatterbox by Ptelea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & donna & roy & cast, 24.7k     "Yeah, I'm fine," Dick said. Then he frowned, because he had not just meant to say that. Or: Eight times that spells or serums affected Dick's ability to speak and / or their aftermath. ✦ Misremembered and Misnumbered by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & jason & clark & diana, 1.9k     Dick may not actually be quite as old as he told everyone he was. In his defense, it wasn't so much lying as that he sort of just forgot. ✦ WE'LL LIVE IN SPACES BETWEEN WALLS. by orpheusaki, bruce & dick & jason, time travel, 4.6k     (Something is different about Dick. Bruce notices.) ✦ Tonight Will Be a Memory Too by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & cass & bruce, 1.2k     They don’t happen often—once a month or so, with varying degrees of spottiness. Sometimes Dick will walk into a room and forget what he’s there for. He’ll forget the locations of things, like where he left his keys or where the refrigerator is. Once he forgot his own name. Even if the episodes don’t occur often, that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. ✦ Can I Sleep With You? by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & damian & titans & cast, 2k     “Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked. “‘Had a nightmare,” the boy murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?” ✦ Broken Silence by Geeves, bruce & dick & cast, 1.3k     Bruce reflects on how quiet the manor used to be. It could be painful at times, but it's not like that anymore. ✦ the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & duke & alfred, reverse robins, talon!dick, 6k     In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Anonymous, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 11.3k wip     Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Iron Bound by coyote_nebula, bruce & dick & jason, 3.1k     Batman never ran out of solutions. He just ran out of ideal solutions. Nightwing finds himself in a tight spot involving a compact car-sized paper roll. ✦ The Mantle by ValleyOfKings, dick & clark & diana & justice league (& bruce) & cast, 2.9k     Batman ‘dies’ and Dick must takes his place. He doesn't want the job but he knows that it is what he must do. He must accept the mantle and protect Gotham. The Justice League must also accept their new Batman. It might have helped if they knew that Batman didn't work as alone as they had once thought. ✦ Bravery, and everything that looks like it by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & steph, 3.4k     Bruce had promised Dick a fun and chill weekend. Instead, they find themselves in the middle of a burning chemical facility. When he thinks everyone should have been evacuated, Nightwing finds a scientist trying to secure some sort of container. She’s either very brave, or she has a death wish.

BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Superhero: Dick Grayson by batmoniker, dick & jason & cast, 5.3k     In which Dick shows up at the school to pick Jason up after he gets into a fight. ✦ Homecoming by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & bruce, 1.2k     Jason's doped up on pain-meds. Dick's holding his hand while he's bedside monitor. Bruce probably wishes he had a camera. ✦ I do not have wings love (I never will) by dizarys, dick & jason & bruce, 2.5k     Jason Todd was alive. He was also bleeding out on Dick Grayson’s apartment floor. How 'Under the Red Hood' might have ended if Dick was at Bruce and Jason's final warehouse confrontation.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ cashmere-soft and irresistible by victoria_p (musesfool), cass/steph, ~1k     Cass and Steph and dumplings and lipstick. ✦ Picking Up Pieces by Cephalogod, bruce & steph & dick, 4k     “Bruce!” Steph called as she approached, weaving between people. His head snapped towards her, and the stark relief in his expression almost stopped her in her tracks. That was just...wrong. Bruce wasn’t supposed to be relieved to see her. He was supposed to be annoyed or resignedly amused, not looking at her like a life raft in the ocean. ✦ Make an Ass of U and Me by Huntress79, Sevidri, bruce/clark & dick, 11.2k     Bruce neglects to explain exactly who the attractive young man that seems to know him so well is, and what their relationship entails. Naturally, there are some misunderstandings. ✦ Presque Vu by PechoraFlow, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 17.4k wip     Bruce gets amnesia and the Batfamily conspires to keep their vigilante side secret from him. They were just trying to keep him home, safe until he recovered. They expected that Bruce would pick up on clues and put together The Batman secret on his own. They didn't expect him to form a different picture entirely. They didn't expect Bruce Wayne would come to hate the Batman.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim, 2.1k     “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” ✦ Time Loop vs Ethiopia by AJElementus, dick & tim (& bruce & jason), 9.1k     In one universe, Jason died while Dick was on a space mission with the Titans. In another? There’s a time loop. In which Jason doesn’t die, Tim joins the family early, and Dick... well... Dick's just trying to figure out what's going on! ✦ so won't you stay, won't you stay (with me?) by dizarys, dick & tim, 1.3k     Tim's having a hard night. So where else does he go but to his big brother's apartment? ✦ under the wing by acrobats, dick & tim & cast, 1.4k     “Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.” – Marc Brown

BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 71k wip     He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Can't Shake the Feeling by Hayleythewriter, tim/kon & tim/bernard & cassie & bart & dick & damian & cast, 17k     Tim introduces his boyfriend to his friends. Almost everyone likes him. ✦ The Electric Pull of Spring by Merelymine, tim/kon, nsfw, 4.3k     "I feel fine," Kon says, breathing deeply. He leans towards Tim and takes an even deeper, longer breath. "I feel really, really good, actually. And you smell—you smell really good." ✦ A No Good Very Bad Day by mademoisellePlume, tim/kon & jason & lois, read the tags, 3.7k     You’d think drugging a half-Kryptonian into sleep would be half as easy as taking a full Kryptonian out of commission. But no, life couldn’t be that simple for Jason, could it? He watched Superboy stumble down the hallway in his pyjama pants, eyes half-lidded and sweating like Two-Face when a flipped coin balanced on its edge. ✦ Pandora's Other Box by FridaysChild, tim/kon & dick & bart & kate & ma kent, 2.5k     Prompt: "Kon and Tim identify as straight. After realising their mutual attraction, they both freak out in different ways."

BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Adoptions by Kannika, clark & conner & cast, 2.7k     Clark prepared for a lot of things, getting closer to Conner. This is not one of them. ✦ Aftershock by sElkieNight60, clark/lois & conner & jon, 13k wip     He knows this is awkward for Clark. It’s awkward for them both. They were gonna start slow. Warm up to each other. Maybe go apple-picking in the summer. A movie, a restaurant, bowling, or something. But a sleepover, really? That wasn’t going slow. ✦ IS IT JUST YOU AND ME IN THE WRECKAGE OF THE WORLD? by orpheusaki, clark & conner & bruce & diana & jason & cast, 2.2k     "You look happy, Kal." She's right, Clark is overjoyed. In between shopping for children's clothes with Lois (after she'd gotten over the shock of it all, which was surprisingly quick. Clark thinks Lois might prefer Conner to him now, not that he blames her for it) and wandering around the Fortress of Solitude with a small palm tucked into his own, Clark hasn't stopped grinning, "Superman is no longer the only Kryptonian alive." (Clark saves Conner from CADMUS as a child AU.)

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ oh but if I could choose, I would choose not to feel by dizarys, bruce & dick & donna & cast, 1.4k     His eyes flicked over the long room, evaluating and searching. When he finally spotted him, Bruce’s heart plummeted. Dick Grayson was slouched at the crumb flecked bar counter, staring blankly into a barely touched pint with a hand twisted in his hair. Misery personified. ✦ batman by hellsreluctantheir, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 57.3k     Dick came back from a trip to space to a dead father figure, a grieving, guilty little brother, and a legacy waiting for him. Suddenly he's moving back to Gotham, playing Bat, trying to keep Jason from spiraling, trying to keep himself from spiraling, with the added bonus of a kid stalking him at the grocery store. It takes two years before things start to feel like they're getting better. Which is right about when the Red Hood comes to town. ✦ Day 3 - Nightmares (2.2) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & tim, 3.3k     Bruce is resigned to the nightmares after their most recent kidnapping. But that doesn't mean they don't have an impact on him. ✦ My Brother's Keeper by Chemical_Processes, dick & damian & tim & cast, 6.2k     Tim gets hit with Fear while on a league mission, and it's Damian's job to get him home in one piece. ✦ Pale Reflections by BearlyWriting, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cast, 2.6k     ‘Bruce blinks again. A chill breeze brushes against him, searching for a way through his uniform. Concrete, Bruce tells himself, it’s concrete, not sand. It’s water, not blood. It’s Dick. And yet, he’s as still as Jason was then, as lifeless. Bruce moves without thinking. He isn’t thinking. His mind is utterly blank, a void in his head.’ ✦ love brought weight to this heart by dizarys, bruce & dick & john & mary & damian & duke, 1.9k     Of course Dick came by every time Haly’s was in town. But he loved when his family was able to join him. And now, with lights illuminating the big top, performers streaming into the ring with flashy costumes, and his family enthralled, Dick felt at peace. Both sides of his life were together. It should’ve been perfect. And looking back, he still wasn’t sure what pushed it off course. But it might have been the fire. ✦ what's in a name by envysparkler, bruce & dick & jason, 4.5k     Kidnappers strike at a gala and abduct two of Bruce Wayne’s sons. Or at least that’s what they think. ✦ I’m gambling with the sun (on which one of us dies young) by dizarys, dick & jason & donna & roy & tim & damian & cassandra & cast, 6.9k     The Justice League have been wiped from existence by Pariah, leaving Nightwing to once again navigate the death of Batman. But this time, even with his siblings and friends rallying around him, the cracks start to show ✦ (someone told me) love would all save us by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas), bruce & dick & tim, 1k     Dick is floating in an abyss of black. It is not peaceful, yet not malicious. It simply is. ✦ Slipping 998° by CKBookish, bruce & dick & tim & cast, 2.5k     When a house fire turns deadly Bruce wonders if he will be too late... again.

[phoenixcatch7]

I know the fandom generally hand waves tawky tawnys back story because 'powerful and eccentric gentlemanly tiger shapeshifter' is pretty cool as is, give or take a stuffed animal or two, but I looked it up out of curiosity and???

Not only does this man (tiger) have many (many) WILDLY varying backstories (on brand tbh) a lot of them deal with quite uh, intense dehumanisation (de-sapient-isation?).

I'm not even joking, in one they have him as a member of an alternate reality where humans died out and humanoid animals rule, except tigers are still kept in zoo cages and denied basic rights. Tawny nearly gets executed for wearing clothes and reading a self help book, and is forcibly stripped naked and locked up again, meeting the marvels when they're tossed into his pen under the assumption that he'll eat them. WHAT?!

In his first appearance (in the 1940s) he's a side character, a bipedal bengal tiger migrating from India to America to, quote, 'integrate himself into American society'. Despite his kindness and politeness, he's met with fear and discrimination, to the point marvel shows up and realises he's chill and helps him get a job as a tour guide for a museum. The writers surely weren't trying to say something with that, no.

Other origins include:

A normal tiger accused of killing a person, granted the ability to walk and talk like a human by a 'local hermit' with a serum to help clear his name.

Mary's mass produced tiger teddy containing a scarab necklace that contained black Adam's powers (?) that was briefly brought to life by satanus as a six legged pooka (English/Celtic/Irish ghost fairy??) to fight his sister blaze and eventually 'earning' permanent personhood from the wizards friend Ibis for being so good at his job.

Random magic tiger who joined a wartime superhero group fighting mind controlled supers and once killed the leader of the Tiger men and took his place.

Random tiger at the zoo Billy thought was cool and tried to turn into a smilodon by sharing his powers, failed. Never left the zoo.

Ifrit tiger who liked to disguise himself as a stray cat or homeless person, who helped Billy when he became homeless.

Enchanted tiger kept on a lead by Pedro, who transforms with him into a smilodon. Quality of life dubious, because this was flashpoint.

Genetically enhanced bengal tiger saved from mind control.

Meta human (maybe??)

A mystical tiger and 'servant of Shazam'

Now that is a roster. The word tiger has lost all meaning to me. Give this guy some civil rights.

I reckon in any universe where one is true tawny would tell the rest as stories to anyone who asked XD. Keep them in their toes lol.

[captainsophiestark]

Just The Two Of Us

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by @ghostofskywalker! Hope you like it bestie! This was very fun to write :)

Fandom: Marvel

Day Nineteen Prompt: "This is getting ridiculous."

Summary: Wanda and her SO have put in a TON of work to finally get a date night off, alone, without interruption. But, like most things, it doesn't work out exactly according to plan.

Word Count: 1,828

Category: Fluff, Humor, little bit of Angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Alright. This is going to be the pefrect, quiet romantic evening the two of us have been needing. No Avengers, chaotic family members, or world-ending threats to interrupt us."

I made the promise to reassure myself as much as my girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff, as I squeezed her hand and led the way into the gorgeous (and very private) restaurant I'd picked for our date night. We'd barely seen each other lately with various Avengers/SHIELD/adjacent responsibilities, so we'd both found a way to clear our calendars for an extended date night tonight. I'd volunteered to plan it, and Wanda had ensured nobody scheduled anything for us that would overlap on timing.

"Sounds perfect," Wanda said, leaning in to speak quietly in my ear as we reached the hostess stand. I gave her hand another squeeze and shot a little smile back over my shoulder, which was exactly the moment everything went to shit.

"No way," I hissed, scowling as my eyes locked onto a couple chatting at one of the tables overlooking the city. Wanda frowned, and then her gaze followed mine.

Goddamn Tony Stark. He was here on a date with Pepper. While I normally liked both of them, tonight was specifically designed for Wanda and I to take a break from the Avengers and all the challenges that came with them.

"It might not matter," Wanda whispered to me. "We can just ask for a table on the opposite end of the restaurant."

As if she'd conjured it, Tony chose that moment to glance in our direction. I groaned internally as he pointed us out to Pepper, and she turned around, giving Wanda and I a bright smile when she saw us. I did my best to return it, although it probably looked more like a grimace.

Tony waved us over, and I resisted the urge to scowl. I could swear I heard Wanda huff a laugh behind me as she pulled me towards the pair.

"Come on," she said, a grin on her face. "No way out of it now."

I hummed, but didn't resist. Really, how could I?

"Fancy meeting you two here!" Tony called as we reached his table. To my horror, he then turned and tried to wave for a waitress. "Let's pull up a pair of chairs, you two can join us."

"Oh, we wouldn't want to interrupt you guys..." I started, but Tony immediately waved me off.

"You're not, don't worry."

I turned to Pepper, and she'd just started to speak with a smile on her face when Wanda broke in with a gasp. I turned to find her staring at her phone with wide-eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she said, looking up at the two of us. "I just got a message from Pietro. We have to go."

My heart sank. Figures, we couldn't get a second alone either way. Run into people we know and get roped into joining them, or have something come up no matter how hard Wanda worked to prevent it.

We quickly said our goodbyes, Tony and Pepper insisting we plan something for the four of us to do together to make up for the interruption, then quickly headed out of the restaurant. I sighed as we made it to the parking lot.

"Alright, so is Pietro at the Tower or is he somewhere else?"

"I don't know."

I stopped short, turning back to Wanda. She just stared back at me after giving a little shrug. I frowned.

"What do you mean you don't know? Did he not tell you where he is? What was he messaging you for?"

"He didn't text me."

I frowned, not sure at first what she was trying to tell me, then my jaw dropped once an idea clicked. Wanda finally gave me a grin.

"When you say he didn't text you..."

"I mean I made up an excuse so we could leave and keep our date night interrupted. That was my job for this whole night, remember?"

I laughed, all the disappointment fading away as bright sparks of joy burst in my chest. I stepped forward and pulled Wanda into a kiss.

"You are amazing. Do you know that?"

"I do. But I don't mind hearing it."

We shared another laugh, and then I took Wanda's hand.

"Alright, let's get out of here. I've got a lot more than just dinner planned for us tonight, and even better, we can also get food at date location number two."

"Sounds perfect to me."

****************

After a brief walk, Wanda and I found ourselves in the middle of the most perfect, movie-level boardwalk I could find. We'd immediately gotten fair food, since we'd missed dinner at the restaurant, and now we were strolling down the alley of carnival games arm in arm.

"Well, we had a rocky start, but I think we managed to save our night," I said, absolutely beaming as Wanda and I took in the bright lights.

"I agree. This is absolutely perfect."

I turned to share a smile with her, and almost perfectly on cue, I heard familiar voices shouting from just a few booths down. I grimaced, but I didn't really have a choice but to turn and look over her shoulder.

I thought it was a hallucination at first, or maybe Loki was messing with us just for fun. But no. They were really here.

At the look on my face, Wanda turned slowly, too, to find Steve Rogers bowling pitches at carnival pins. Standing next to him and cheering him on were Bucky, Peter, and Shuri. She sighed at the same time I groaned.

"Did everyone choose tonight to go out?" she asked with a laugh. I threw my hands up and huffed.

"Apparently they did! This is ridiculous."

Wanda had a grin on her face, but apparently my exclamation had drawn some attention. The mini Avengers group started to turn in our direction, but I didn't let them finish the move before dragging Wanda after me and behind the row of carvinal booths. We slammed our backs against it, keeping quiet and still, and after a few moments I felt fairly confident we'd avoided our friends.

I felt a little bad, but not bad enough to go back out there and say hello.

"What's the plan?" Wanda whispered to me. I shot her a look, since we both knew whispering was excessive, but she just grinned at me.

"The plan is to get the hell out of here, get some ice cream, and go for a nice, peaceful walk on the beach without any of our friends interrupting us."

Wanda laughed again, the sound easing my nerves and loosening the frustration knotting in my chest. She slipped her hand into mine with a smile, and my heart did a backflip.

"Sounds great to me."

****************

Wanda and I had to duck and dodge a little bit to leave the boardwalk without being spotted, but our friends weren't looking for us, and we were both trained enough to manage just fine. We swung by the cute ice cream place I'd been looking forward to visiting, then took off our shoes and strolled through the surf together. We talked, laughed, and relaxed exactly like we'd been trying to all night.

At least, we did for about ten minutes. After ten minutes, we noticed another couple walking in our direction from further down the beach. I didn't recognize the woman headed our way, but I'd recognize the shock of light blond hair anywhere after dating its owner's sister for so long.

"This is getting ridiculous," I sighed, coming to a stop. Wanda gave me a concerned look, then followed my gaze and found her brother headed in our direction. Because of course he was.

"What is he doing here?" Wanda huffed, her voice showing irritation for the first time tonight. I just sighed again.

"Who knows? Maybe there's some big conspiracy to ruin our date night tonight."

"Well, whatever it is... do you mind if I suggest a plan alternative?"

I deflated a little as Pietro got closer to us. I'd been so determined to plan the perfect date night for the two of us, and my plans had been foiled at nearly every step. Although, to be fair, I guess Wanda's had too. She'd worked so hard to get everyone to do something else for the night so they wouldn't bother us, and it definitely hadn't worked out how she'd been planning.

I took a deep breath and shook off my irritation. I turned away from Pietro, who'd apparently noticed us and was now heading in our direction with a smile, and met Wanda's eyes. I smiled.

"I think a plan alternative is exactly what we need right now."

Wanda gave me a smirk that made my heart race, then wrapped an arm around me and pulled me towards her. She raised her free hand, since she'd finished her ice cream before we'd seen Pietro, and with a little chaos magic we lifted gently into the air.

"Hey!"

Wanda ignored Pietro's shout, and I almost did the same, until Pietro appeared below us in an instant thanks to his super speed.

"Where do you two think you're going? You don't want to say hi to your bro-"

He stopped short as I hurled the remainder of my ice cream cone at him. My aim was dead on, and he clearly wasn't expecting it, to the point that even his superspeed couldn't save him. It landed dead center on his shirt, and his outraged shout was enough to make both me and Wanda laugh.

Wanda and I went up, up, and up, until we were into the clouds. Thanks to a little help from her magic, we didn't get too cold, and even better, nobody that we knew would be able to see us up here. When we finally dropped back down again, it was at the top of one of the tallest peaks in a closed park at the edge of the city, giving us a perfect view and perfect privacy. We touched down gently, but Wanda didn't take her arm away from my waist.

"So... what do you think of this?"

"Perfect," I said with a grin, bringing my arms up to rest on her shoulders. I leaned in, giving Wanda a soft kiss, then resting my forehead against hers. The night was beautiful and peaceful around us, exactly what we'd been working so hard to find.

The two of us found a nice spot at the base of one of the trees to settle in, leaning against each other and looking out at the sparkling lights of the city. Wanda's arm rested across my shoulder while I wrapped one of mine around her waist. I'm not sure how long we sat like that, just enjoying our space alone, together. By all rights, we both should've been exhausted at some point, but the privacy was so rare and refreshing that we stayed up there to watch the sunrise. Our night may not have started exactly the way we'd planned it, but it had ended absolutely perfectly.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[nikethestatue]

Happy birthday to my bestie, my mate, my Elriel sister @tswaney17

I wouldn't have joined this fandom without her. So if anything, blame her! Jokes aside, I hope you have a marvelous year and meet your own stranger in the night. Please enjoy!

One shot

Summary: Elain Archeron is celebrating her birthday and happens to meet an enigmatic and mysterious stranger who upends her world

She smoothed her black bodysuit over her hips, though it wasn’t wrinkled and then tousled her hair, in what she hoped, was sexy, beachy curls.  

Anyone else would’ve told her that she looked great—well put together, elegant, and not trying too hard. But to her self-critical eye, she saw a slew of imperfections. Hips too wide, breasts too large, stumpy fingers...She could stand here all night and critique herself, but what would be the point? It was what it was, right? Some part of her though, liked what stared back. The black bodysuit hugged her in all the right places, and paired with strappy golden heels and some delicate gold jewelry, she looked...nice. Not quite her 31 years old. Her friends always said that she was a ‘young 30’. She looked about 24. But inside, there were days when she felt 78.  

Oh well. Time to go. That’s not to say that she didn’t want to back out of her solo restaurant trip about 25 times today. Internally, she’s been telling herself that she is too busy, too tired, too poor, and that staying in with a bottle of wine and pizza would be just fine. Another part of her wanted to get out. Even if she looked like a loser, dining alone. At least it was a Wednesday night—not the weekend—so she could theoretically make up a story of being on a business trip. Not that anyone’s going to ask. But she needed that security blanket for herself: “I am eating alone, because I am here on business’. Yeah, that sounded legit. She was a successful, professional woman, determined and confident, and she was on business in Chicago.  

She grabbed her clutch and headed out.  

It was a warm evening by Chicago standards. The middle of April could be blustery or it could be blistering. You never knew. Tonight was lovely, actually. Trees were in full bloom—white, pink, yellow, assertive red, purple, even blue—bursting in flowers of every shape and size along the streets of her neighbourhood.  

Beatrice was a quint restaurant in Fulton Market. Or as ‘quaint’ as a restaurant could be in the bustling, hipster corner of the city. She only knew it because she’d come here before with her stylish, popular co-worker, Morrigan. She recalled how Mor wore a pristine baby blue bodysuit, sky-high heels, and a sparkling silver belt studded with glittery gemstones. Mor’s hair was a waterfall of golden blonde, which cascaded sensually down her back. Her skin was flawless. Her makeup was perfection, and her nails the right shade of pearl. When they were seated, all the girls in the party immediately rattled off a list of things they didn’t eat, were allergic to, and ‘avoided’. Mor announced that she was ‘celiac’ in a tone that implied that obviously she was celiac! And then proceeded to order bread. When the waiter told her that bread has gluten, Mor said that ‘she was allowed to today’.  

Back then, she’d ordered something called the Straight ‘A’ Salad, not wanting to tuck into something juicy and fatty in front of everyone. It ended up being empty and unsatisfying. But she still wanted to go back there, because the other items on the menu looked good, the vibe was nice and not overwhelming, and the drinks were inventive. If nothing else, she’d get her full in alcohol. 

“Follow me, Miss,” the hostess beckoned her and she scurried quickly between tables, wanting to be seated as soon as possible. 

It was nice. The table was by the wall, and she could see inside the restaurant and out the window. She laid her clutch on the table and exhaled. She was here. She was in her place, in her chair.  

She made it. 

“Are we celebrating anything tonight, Miss?” the waiter asked, when he approached with the menu. 

“Oh no,” she laughed, “I am on a business trip.” 

“And do you have any allergies?” 

“No!” she stated decisively. No. She is going to eat what she wanted. No faux allergies for her. 

The drinks menu looked a bit intimidating. Lots of things with Mezcal and Elderflower and words like ‘smoked’ and ‘hibiscus ginger kombucha’. After discreetly googling what kombucha was, she gagged and decided on a Lemond Drop. Safe and sound. 

The waiter wasn’t exactly impressed by her choice, but she didn’t care. Instead, she ordered Cheddar Popovers with bacon butter, and green chili queso for appetizers. It harkened back to her California upbringing, where things were less formal, the food less complicated, and the loneliness less acute. She suddenly and desperately missed her sisters, who lived back home. She missed the sun, tacos, trips to Sacramento and the simpler life she had back home.  

Sighing, she sipped her cocktail and looked around. It was fairly bustling, couples and friends chatting animatedly, drinking their complicated drinks and laughing. But...she felt okay. Not amazing, but okay. It was peaceful.  

It felt peaceful until her eyes fell on a singular, solitaire figure of a man, who sat at the bar, with a drink in front of him. The reason she even paid attention to him was because he was literally breathtakingly beautiful. So handsome, her breath stalled in her chest. Big. So goddamn big, it felt like he was sucking the air into the vortex of a black hole that he’d created just by simply...being. He sat, unmoving, in a sharply cut suit and a white shirt, unbuttoned at his neck. The other reason why she looked at him was because he was staring back at her. Big, bold, unflinching stare. Those incredible, luminescent eyes almost glared at her, and she wished she’d know what colour they were. The man’s face remained impassive, but he continued staring, even once she’s averted her eyes and squirmed in her seat. And now, all she could feel was his stare, following her every move. It was suddenly hot, and she felt her nipples pop like tiny Whack-A-Moles beneath her bodysuit. Served her right for not wearing a bra! Jesus Mary and Joseph. Well, her evening was ruined just like that. Instead of being at peace with her lemon drop and her popovers, she was not being scorched by the gaze of this absurdly handsome man, and all she wanted to do was look his way and see if he was still looking at her. While she didn’t want him to be looking at her. But she wanted to make sure that he was. Oh, god. What. The. Hell. 

She was on the verge of fanning herself, before realising that she’d be looking like she was having hot flashes, and it was too early for that. Her nipples were hard as bullets and she was forced to cover her breasts with her folded arms, just to maintain some sense of decorum. As she ‘busied’ herself with her drink, she snuck a momentary glance at the man. He was still there, but no longer looking at her. Instead, he was on his phone, and a deep sense of regret and longing washed over her at once. 

He was interested in her for 23 seconds.  

That was it. 

But she supposed that for the most handsome man in the world to take notice of her for 23 seconds was sufficient enough. 

“Miss, your popovers,” the waiter stepped up to the table, placing one plate down in front of her, and then the other, “and queso. Please be careful, it’s hot.” 

The food looked fine, but somehow, she no longer felt particularly hungry. She wasn’t sure if it was because the man was no longer looking at her, or because he was looking at her before. Did she want him to look at her? No. No, she didn’t. He was entirely outside her comfort zone, with his piercing gaze and his unnaturally good looks and he was definitely a player, so there was no need for all of this.  

On her birthday, all she wanted was peace and quiet. She didn’t need smouldering men giving her the death stare. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on her food. The popovers were light and fluffy and crispy on the outside, and the bacon butter was to die for. Sinful, but so, so good. 

She sunk into her seat, enjoying her cocktail and alternating between the popovers and then the rich, spicy queso. She was still deciding on the main course—penne with spicy vodka sauce? Slow cooked short rib?  

“Miss,” 

Her contemplation was interrupted by the waiter, who was holding a drink. 

“From the gentleman at the bar,” he said and placed the drink in front of her. 

Her mouth fell open. Whaaat... 

Timidly, she allowed her eyes to travel to the bar and sure enough, there he was. Staring. A small, secret smile touched his beautiful mouth and he inclined his head just a bit. She didn’t exactly know how to act in these situations. Was she supposed to drink the drink that he sent? Invite him over? Go over there herself? Ignore him like a total douche? 

Okay, first things first. She raised the pretty coupe glass to her lips and tentatively sipped the drink. Sour and smokey, with a touch of sweetness and heavy on lemon flavour, this was definitely a whiskey drink. And she didn’t like whiskey. But for some reason, she really liked this. She took another sip, a bolder one, and then glanced at the man. He was smiling, as he watched her drink, and when she swallowed, he winked at her. Approving? Enjoying watching her? Smug? Pleased? She wasn’t sure. But she... 

“Ready to order, Miss?” the waiter was back, and she absently said ‘fish tacos’ which isn’t what she even wanted, but she was too scrambled to come up with a better idea. “Very good,” the waiter chirped, and before he disappeared, she said, “can you ask the gentleman who bought the drink to join me?” 

Her throat was dry. Her underarms were sweaty. 

WHAT was she doing?? 

She never did anything like this before? Inviting strange men to eat with her? Never! 

“If he wants to,” she added quickly and the waiter nodded.  

God, please say no. Please. Please god, let him say no. I don’t want it. I don’t. 

There he was. Moving through the restaurant like the Angel of Death. Dark and tall and slim and muscular. Jesus. He was actually coming over! Oh. No. Nononononono. 

And then he was standing at her table, how own drink in hand. 

“I wasn’t sure if Whiskey Sour was the way to go,” he said—his deep, dark, raspy voice matching his appearance to a tee. "But it looks like I did well.” 

She swallowed hard and then muttered, “Is that what it is?” 

Yep, it sounded lame even to her own ears. 

“Indeed,” he confirmed. “First time?” 

Somehow, this made her blush. A simple question, and a correct assumption, but for some reason, it was laced with innuendo. 

Their eyes finally locked.  

Hazel. His eyes are a gorgeous greenish amber colour, spectacular like the rest of him. 

He took a sip of his drink and slowly dragged the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, swiping the droplet and that made her even sweatier than she was before. Soon she was going to be sweating like a sumo wrestler—which of course is the most enticing look a woman could sport.  

“No, I’ve had it before,” she finally managed to answer. 

He smirked a knowing smile. 

“Have you?”  

As he was looming over her and attracting way too much attention from the females of the species, and even some males, she all but ordered him, “you can sit down!” 

He smiled again, that smooth, secret smile, saying, “I thought you’d never ask”. 

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just watched him in silence as he slid onto a chair across from her.  

“Thanks for the drink,” feeling awfully uncomfortable, knowing she was not great at small talk, and completely out of depth with this man, she thought that this was all a pretty bad idea. What was supposed to have been a quiet and nice evening alone, was turning into...well, she wasn’t sure what it was turning into, but it was something.  

“You aren’t waiting for anyone, are you?” he asked, sounding curious. “I wouldn’t need to fight a boyfriend or something...I mean, I’ll win, but,” 

She huffed, and snorted a laugh. 

“So confident?” 

He shrugged, “pretty confident”. After a pause, he pressed, “so?” 

“No,” she blushed despite her best efforts to appear cool. “I am here alone. On a business trip,” she lied smoothly, grateful for having this little nugget in her pocket.  

He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, lounging comfortably. Suddenly, he said,  

“Nope. Try again.” 

Startled, she glowered at him, not knowing what he meant. All the while, as she squirmed in confusion, he casually drank his whiskey, watching her closely. 

“What,” she brought her glass to her lips and took a generous swig of the drink, “what do you mean?” 

“Only that you are not being exactly truthful,” he shrugged, and then grabbed a popover and swallowed the whole thing easily. “You aren’t here on any business trip.” 

“What?!” she exclaimed with indignation. “Excuse me! How do you know? What do you mean?” 

His eyes slowly slid over her bare arms, her chest, her neck, and again, she blushed like a fool, but there was no stopping her body’s reaction to this strange man. 

He was...enigmatic.  

“A beautiful woman like you, wearing something so elegant and understated,” 

Understated? Did he mean boring? 

“is not in Chicago on any business trip. So, that makes me think—if you aren’t waiting for anyone, and you are dressed up, then you must be,” he cocked his head, considering, “celebrating something? A new job? A birthday?” 

Most of his words rolled right over her head, because all she heard was ‘a beautiful woman like you’. He thought that she was beautiful? He? HE thought that?  

“What?” she asked dumbly. 

He chuckled, amused. “You are a little naughty liar, is what I am saying,” 

“You can’t call me that!” 

“Then don’t lie to me.” 

She bubbled her lips and finished her drink. Finished already? Shit. 

He noticed it too and motioned for the waiter.  

“Another drink for the lady,” he ordered. “And I’ll take another whiskey. And,” he thought for a moment and added, “bring us a bottle of champagne.” He looked at her and asked, “what are you eating?” 

“I think I ordered fish tacos,” she recalled, watching him in confusion.  

“Want to eat them?” 

“I dunno.” 

“Mind if I cancel them and order us steaks?” 

“Uhh...okay?” 

He did just that, telling the waiter that he’d pay for the tacos as well.  

Who the hell was this guy? He flicked his fingers and just got whatever he wanted. The waiter didn’t even question him! ‘Of course, sir’ ‘Whatever you want, sit’ ‘Right away, sir’.  

“So, is it your birthday?” he asked once the waiter ran to fetch the drinks. Literally, ran.  

“No.” 

His brows knitted together and he pursed his lips. 

Something about him and his look made goose bumps rise on her skin and she shifted under the table, crossing her legs. This guy and his unbelievable dominating bossiness were both scary, but also highly sexual. She knew that she was a bit of a submissive at heart, but that was mostly because she read way too many omegaverse books. But now, she was faced with a true Alpha. When they spoke of an Alpha Male, she suddenly became aware that she was in the presence of one. He wasn’t just tall, dark and handsome—even if he was a walking cliche with all of these attributes. But it was his undeniable, almost God-given natural dominance and superiority that she found so fascinating. And yes, so appealing as well.  

“It’s not your birthday?” he repeated. 

“N-no,” she bleated pathetically. 

He didn’t respond immediately, but only drummed his fingers on the table, and she noticed that his hands were scarred. Rather extensively. Burns, from what she could tell. Jesus. How did he get these? And both hands, too.  

“Lie to me again, and I will take you over my knees and spank that perfect bottom until you beg for mercy,” he warned, his voice impassive, his face unchanged.  

Her mouth dropped open and she thought that she was going to slide under the table and dissolve into a puddle. 

Was she supposed to cause a scene and slap him? Was she supposed to storm out of the restaurant? How does one reacted to being threatened by a spanking by a complete stranger? 

Also, he thought that her ass was ‘perfect’? 

“Let’s start anew, beautiful girl,” he proposed then, while she made silent gasping noises like a dying fish. 

The waiter arrived just then, and only that prevented her from fainting or screaming out loud. He popped the champagne bottle with flourish and poured both of them a measure, while also setting their cocktails down before them. 

“Don’t come back until the food is ready,” the stranger warned the waiter and the man nodded and left without saying a word. 

“What is your name?” 

She swallowed, but remembering his warning, she decided to go with the truth this time. 

“Elain.” 

“Gorgeous name,” he approved. “It suits you. I am Azriel.” 

“Azriel,” an exotic name for an exotic man. “Nice to meet you. I think?” she ventured and extended her hand to him. 

“Pleasure is certainly all mine,” he said, squeezing her hand in his huge, warm, powerful palm, watching her with strange, almost palatable hunger. “Whether you’ll receive pleasure from me or not remains to be seen,” he decided vaguely and she bit her lip, sensing that innuendo again and not knowing how to deal with it. 

The one time a guy was instantly interested in her, and he is a dangerous weirdo. Figures. Just her luck. 

He raised his glass and said, “Happy birthday, Elain! I hope it’s wonderful to you.” 

“Thank you. That remains to be seen, I think,” she said softly and they touched their glasses. She sucked the champagne quickly, and with a sense of foreboding and some kind of desperation. She had no idea where this was going, or what he wanted from her. But she wanted it to continue. At least for the duration of this dinner. 

“What do you do?” he inquired, dipping a chip into the queso, but instead of eating it, he held it out to her. She looked around, in some kind of futile hope that someone would save her from this, but there was no one. Only this stunning, somewhat insane man, who was feeding her chips and dip. 

“Come on, beautiful Elain. Open up,” he urged soft, his voice smooth and husky and so tempting.  

Numb, and only driven by the sound of that sensual voice, she opened her mouth and he gently pushed the chip inside. As she pulled it between her teeth, he brushed his finger over her lower lip and then brought it to his mouth and sucked. 

“More?” he whispered and then concluded, “more.” 

He dipped another chip and fed it to her again. 

“So?” 

“I am in marketing,” she answered, knowing in advance that hers was the most uninspiring answer in history. But she was more preoccupied by the fact that she was being fed chips by a strange man in the middle of a restaurant. 

“And you live in the city?” he asked further. “Please don’t even start with the whole ‘I am here on business’.” 

She sighed and admitted, “Fine, I am from the suburbs. But I work in the city. What do you do?” 

He didn’t seem too thrilled about her question and took his time eating the last of the popovers. 

“Do you really want to know?” he asked finally. 

“Yes, of course. Why not?” 

“You might not like it.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? What do you do? Kill people?” she joked. 

He smiled at her, but the smile was less of a smile, and more just a stretch of his lips. The smile didn’t reach his eyes 

“And if I am?” he wondered at last. 

She frowned and then it dawned on her and she laughed, “what? You kill people?” 

“Maybe.” 

A shiver ran down her spine and she gawked at him in shock. Until she dissolved in a flurry of laughs. 

“You had me there for a sec!” she wiggled her finger at him. “A+ for a perfect deadpan delivery! I am impressed.” 

He didn’t seem to be laughing, but he added, “but they were all bad”. 

She stopped laughing and nervously shifted in her seat. 

“Wait. What?” 

“You wanted to know what I did for a living,” he reminded her. 

As she processed his words, he just sat there, watching her intently. 

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed at last, realisation dawning on her, “it’s a scam, right?! You are one of those guys who pretends to be an assassin, or a millionaire, or in the CIA and then I fall for it, and in two months you’ll start asking me for money and I blow all my savings on you and then never hear from you again.” 

Shaking her head in disbelief she grabbed her napkin and then said, “thank you for the drink, Mr. Azriel. But I am not stupid. I appreciate the gesture—the razzle dazzle—but let’s part ways right here so that no one leaves here too traumatised.” 

He listened to her impassively and in the next moment, the waiter arrived with their steaks.  

She was hungry and upset, but she knew that she couldn’t stay here any longer and remain in his company. The whole thing was too bizarre and she didn’t want to get in trouble. And this man was clearly trouble. Or maybe troubled. Or both. 

“Azriel, I am,” 

“Sit,” he ordered, though his tone was soft. “You are safe with me. Don’t worry. But you did ask me what I did for a living,” he insisted again. 

“Well, when I did ask you, I didn’t expect for you to tell me that you are some kind of a killer!” she snapped, her voice rising. 

“I’d rather you didn’t yell,” he requested. “However, I wanted to tell you,” 

“Why?!” she exclaimed. “Don’t killers usually try and keep their profession,” she made a quotation mark sign with her fingers, “a secret?” 

“Normally, yes,” he agreed. “But, I want you to trust me and I felt that being honest is the best way to earn that trust.” 

“Trust me? Why? And,” 

“Because I want you,” he interrupted her and his tone was blunt, but calm. 

“Wha,” 

“I want you,” he repeated. “I saw you and you...well, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And now, I am obsessed with the idea of learning what you’d look like when I enter you. What sounds you’d make when you come on my tongue.” 

At that, the big steak knife fell out of her trembling fingers and she wondered if she was having some kind of out of body experience. An ‘episode’? She wasn’t prone to episodes, but hell, there was a first time for everything, right? 

He shrugged, and continued like this was a perfectly sane conversation they were having, “Sorry if this is a bit unorthodox,” 

An understatement of the century! 

“However, I am not one to mince words,” 

Another understatement of the century. 

“And when I want something, I go after it. And right now, I want you.” 

She made a gurgling sound, but he ignored it, then cut into his steak, and chewed slowly.  

“However, you don’t strike me as someone who sleeps around or who is used to the type of man I am,” 

Was any woman? 

“Therefore, I wanted to build a baseline of trust between us. Like I said, you have nothing to fear from me. I am simply a man, interested in a woman.” 

He was anything but, but okay. 

“So,” she finally found her voice which was lost somewhere in the bottom of her stomach, “telling me you are an assassin is your way of establishing a baseline of trust?” 

He looked at her hand, which was clutching a butter knife, her knuckles white, and smiled faintly. 

“I suppose so.” 

She reached for the bottle of champagne, but her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely grasp it. Smoothly, he took the bottle and topped off her glass. This was probably the worst idea—to continue drinking—but she couldn't think of anything else. 

“Why don’t you relax and eat,” he suggested. “The steak is cooked perfectly.” 

“I don’t think I am hungry.” 

“Nonsense. Lay down your weapon of choice, dig into your dish and relax a bit. Have fun. It's your birthday!” 

He then raised his glass and mused, ‘what should we toast to?” 

“Me remaining sane after this dinner,” she muttered under her breath. 

He laughed.  

“How about ‘to the future’? Because tomorrow with you is worth every yesterday I spent without you,” he said and she almost choked.  

He couldn’t be for real.  

No man talked like that. Ever. 

“Listen, I know I could a little blunt, but in my line of work, I have to move quickly and I typically don’t get many second chances. And I don’t want to miss my chance with you,” he drank his champagne and watched her attempt to concentrate on her steak. “And when I said that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I am being honest. I saw you across the restaurant and you kind of blew my mind. It happens, you know,” 

“No, it doesn’t,” she argued. “Only in romance novels.” 

“Okay,” he shrugged, “so we have a romance novel beginning, so what?” 

“It’s not real,” she insisted.  

“Well, while you think on that, tell me when I can kiss you, because I’d really, really would like to kiss you right now,” 

“Never!” she shrieked. “Stop talking like that!” 

She desperately needed him to stop talking. Stop using that sensual, deep baritone to say deliciously sinful things to her. Because if he continued, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She kept trying to shield her breasts from him, since her nipples were achingly sharp, threatening to poke through the top of her body suit. And between her legs—disaster. She was flooded. Every glance at his strong, powerful hands made her wonder what they’d feel like between her thighs. What his soft lips would taste like if he did get that kiss from her. And every word he said just made her wetter and wetter. She feared she’d have a stain on her clothes once she got up from her seat, and the thought alone was mortifying.  

“I think you should let me kiss you,” he insisted, watching her intently. 

“No, I am not kissing you!” 

God, this steak was good!  

“How about this then,” he proposed slowly, “I scoot closer to you, and you let me play with your clit, while you eat, and then you come all over my hand. I pay the bill and we go to my place and I’ll continue making you come. Because all I want to do right now is kiss every inch of your porcelain skin, and fuck your soft, lovely mouth and watch my dick disappear between those rosy lips. And then you’ll come on my dick in your perfect pussy and ask for more, while screaming my name. And if you let me, I’ll fuck that gorgeous ass as well and will make you come from that as well. And then you’ll sleep in my arms and in the morning, we’ll go get breakfast.” 

She watched him in dull astonishment, her brain failing to work properly as she attempted to process his words.  

This really couldn’t be real. At all. No man, in the history of mankind, ever said words like these to a woman.  

Yes, he just sat there, with her perfect face and his perfect body, and waited. 

“And then you’ll go and kill some people at work?” was all she managed to say to his explicit monologue.  

She’s never been fucked anywhere, let alone her ass. So yeah. 

“Well, not at work. For work,” he corrected. 

“Uh uh,” she sighed. “And you are okay with me knowing about that then?” 

“Like I told you, I want you to trust me.” 

“Uh uh,” she sighed again. Then she set her napkin aside and told him calmly, 

“Azriel, it certainly has been an interesting evening. I thank you. I am not sure I’ll ever forget it, or you, but...I don’t think that I am the girl you need,” 

“All me to decide that,” he argued sharply. 

She chewed the inside of her cheek, before clarifying, “I suppose I choose not to be that girl for you.” 

“Why?” 

“I like my boring little life. It suits me. And you...you don’t suit me or my life.” 

She couldn’t even believe her own assertiveness. She was rarely like this.  

“It’s unfortunate,” he said sadly. “Forgive me if I offended you,” 

“Astonished, more like,” 

“Better than offended.” 

She got up from her chair and her knees felt soft and shaky, and for the first time she understood what ‘jelly legs’ were. She had jelly legs because of him.  

“Thank you for dinner. I better be going.” 

“I’d like to walk you to your car,” he offered. 

“I think it’s a bad idea. Besides, I am getting an Uber. I drank too much. Goodbye, Azriel.” 

She rushed out of the restaurant and onto the bustling Fulton Market, where there were hundreds of people milling around. Her fingers trembling, she got her phone out of her clutch and pressed the Uber button on the verge of hysteria now. She didn’t know where she was going even, so she pressed ‘home’ even though she knew this Uber would host like $60 at least. But she needed to get away. Away from here, away from him, away from making a bad decision. Very bad, terrible decision that she was yearning to make right now. 

3 minutes. 

3 minutes. 

Okay, she just needed to make it for 3 minutes out here, until the car came. 

She glanced at the phone frantically, over and over again, watching the little car move along the street diagram. 

Suddenly, a familiar scarred hand reached over her shoulder and grabbed her phone.  

“Wait! Give it back!” she demanded desperately. 

Azriel smiled at her and then typed something in her phone.  

“Now you have my number.” 

A text chimed, and he added, “and I have yours”. 

“We’ll never see each other again,” she promised. 

“We’ll see,” he said simply. 

Finally, Honda Civic! Blue! There she was!  

She bounced on her heels impatiently, hoping he wouldn’t do anything, and yet hoping that he would at the same time. 

Ugh. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” she said again. 

He opened the door for her politely and before she folded herself into the car, he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” 

-

Azriel ‘The Shadow’ Night had two problems on his hands. 

As he watched the Honda weave in and out of busy traffic, he lit a cigarette—an occasional bad habit of his—and inhaled deeply. 

Nothing that he told her was a lie. 

He did find her to be incredibly beautiful. And his attraction to her was instant and hit him like an avalanche. He’d never felt anything remotely like this before. He wanted her with every fiber of his being and know, innately, that their paths were crossed forever and for a reason. 

The only omission in his tale was that their meeting was not accidental. And that she was the target, who was his current assignment.  

Now, he needed to figure out how to murder her, while keeping her alive. 

[goodolddumbbanana]

Let's move the VA's out of the equation.

Like they say, they are literally the creators of the shows, not the cops or anyone who has responsibility or authority to stop or do anything other than voice their voice.

And honestly, I am sick of the backlash they keep receiving anytime they interfere.

Like that time and still now, Davis's image is still getting badly affected on Tiktok and even on Tumblr, that people accused him of being ablest.

(Which is wrong but because they are minors and don't know better, people not only believe them more, but also refuse the evidence Davis collects that proving that Davis, in fact, totally not ablest and people only like to twist his words.)

What I'm trying to say is, everything happens on Tumblr, stay on Tumblr. We are literally old enough to search the internet, I believe we are old enough to find the common solution without dragging the VA's in.

Sure people get harassed, and some shits are horrible, and we literally find some new methods to do the witch hunt thingy like every week.

But that doesn't mean we need to drag more people who are totally not involved like the VA in it.

It is tiring, even for people who just start joining the fandom and people who stay too long at the fandom to watch this shit burn down, because for sure people would forget about the damage they done for like several months.

The big blogs can be these jerks with someone and friends with someone, (I don't really pay attention to them, suit me.) they can work very closely with the show or something.

But their words have no more weight than us. Because in the end, from the moment they joined the fandom, they became fans, no more no less.

If you don't like them, block them, or post the things you don't like about them on your blog because sure it messes up, but it is your blog. You get totally controlled over that because everyone has their own opinions. But to the point when DM and messaging? Not cool and it can slowly turn into crime.

And same with the VA, they just create things, they are not as responsible to fix things, either if the person who causes it their friends or not. And we shouldn't take The VA talk for granted, because like I said, the fandom handles things the fandom did, not the opposite.

What fans do is shipping and shit. (Harry potter, DSmp, Danny phantom, DCU, marvel, TMNT,...) I don't understand why in this fandom, things can get so intense about these topics like that.

[phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings]

Sing Me to Sleep

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Characters: Pietro Maximoff, reader (Pietro calls reader princessa)

Summary: one time Pietro sings you to sleep and one time you sing him to sleep

Notes: This was written for Day 16’s prompt for Flufftober 2023: singing each other to sleep. @flufftober

I don’t own Pietro Maximoff, Marvel comics, or the MCU.

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here.

1.

You woke up from a nightmare; frightened, panicked, sweating and trying to catch your breath. It was more than likely you wouldn’t be able to get to sleep again anytime soon; your emotions were too high for that.

You sat up, with a few tears falling down your cheeks. You needed comfort and to know you were safe. Instead of lying back down and trying to sleep, you went to find your friend, Pietro. He lived a few doors away in the compound.

When you got to his door, you knocked lightly. It was only a few seconds before the door opened to reveal a wide awake Pietro Maximoff. He had only looked at you a couple of seconds before he pulled you into a tight hug and ushered you inside.

“Stay with me, princessa,” Pietro whispered as he brought you over to his bed, laying you down underneath the covers, before joining you and taking you into his arms. “You’re safe with me.”

You hummed in response and wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him close. “Please sing to me something from Sokovia. Please.”

For the next few moments as you calmed down again, your best friend sang a soft lullaby from Sokovia to you. He softly started running one of his hands through your hair.

Soon, you were fast asleep in the arms of your best friend.

2.

You heard someone at your door. You looked at the clock, seeing that it’s later than you had expected. The time flew by and you hadn’t even realised that the team would’ve been back for a while.

You got up and opened the door to see none other than your best friend. “Pietro, I’m so happy to see you.” As you were saying this you threw your arms around him and pulled him in.

“Princessa, I texted you before, but you never answered.”

You picked up your phone as you both sat on your bed. When you opened it, you saw a few notifications and realised, “I think my phone is on silent. I completely missed the notifications.”

“It’s ok,” he told you as he looked around. “Must’ve been distracted.”

“Yeah, I was. I was watching some movies. Would you like to join me?”

“Of course, princessa.” You loved it when he called you that, and how it sounds with his accent.

You both moved to more comfortable positions on the bed, sitting against the headboard with his arm around your shoulders as you put the movie on.

You got about halfway through the movie when you felt Pietro’s head rest against your shoulder.

“Tired, are you?”

He hummed in response.

“Do you want to stay here? We can share the bed.”

He hummed again and you looked down to see his eyes closed.

“Pietro, love, I need you to open your eyes.”

He opened his eyes slightly and you gestured to the bed, “lie down. It’s more comfortable.”

You both moved so you were lying down and you pulled him towards you. You started humming a tune you both loved and ran your hand through his hair, until you heard his breathing even out.

You kissed the top of his head and held him closer to you, before you fell asleep as well.

[wenellyb]

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel that people who say stuff like this are straight up lying? Or is there some important piece of information I'm missing?

It's unbelievable to me that some people would like that non-canon ships like Stucky or any other non-canon ships paved the way for representation in modern media. Unbelievable.

Destiel, maybe, because of how big the fandom is/was but even Supernatural and even Destiel started out small and got popular because of the fandom and the ship(s).

I feel like people who saying they started shipping non-canon couples because their wasn't any LGBT representation in the media at the time aren't being genuine. I say that because before joining Tumblr, I didn't even know shipping non-canon couples was a thing (I had heard of Destiel, but it was more of a concept to me, even though I unironically watched SPN).

I feel that was they mean is that there wasn't any representation in popular shows or maybe they mean they weren't enough main characters. But otherwise there was!!!

These are just the one I can think of on the top of my head, but there are much more and there is en more if you go outside of the US. And these are just the shows.

If we add the movies... well!!!

You want romance with a Happy Ending?

You want Murder Mystery?

You want Drama?

There are so many many more and, yes these weren't blockbusters but it's not "no représentation and Stucky and Destiel were the only options"

Grey's Anatomy started out at the exact same time as Supernatural and now has over a dozen canon LGBT characters and half of them are/were main characters (Callie, Arizona, Amelia, Teddy, Yasuda, Helm)

When I joined Tumblr, I never even for a minute thought shipping was about representation or activism because there were so many shows and movies I knew but they were barely talked about on here.

Not criticizing ships by any means but I feel like people are trying to pretend that shipping is something it isn't.

In my humble opinion, non-canon ships were never about representation. Shipping was just shipping

I wasn't on Tumblr at the time, but I was on Youtube (old school) and to me, the people who were doing edits of the canon ships, in shows and movies were the real heroes.

Some people might say : "but those characters are side characters or weren't in major blockbusters/popular shows".

But fandoms could have decided to make them more popular if they wanted. Because believe it or not, Supernatural was a niche show at the beginning and I don't think it would have been as popular or gotten as many seasons without the shippers. They chose to make the non-canon couple (at the time) popular. So the fans could have done the same with shows that have canon LGBT characters But they didn't, they focused on non-canon couples.

I have no problem with shipping non-canon couples at all, I do it too, but I'm really surprised by people who want to make it seem like it's some kind of activism... It's not.

And I know there wasn't enough representation that's true, but why focus your energy on shows with absolutely no canon LGBT characters and pretend it's activism??

You guys could have had Noah's arc or Hit the Floor renewed and you focused your energy on Marvel characters.

And some people will say they ship Destiel anyway because they want fantasy and paranormal... Well does nobody remember Dante's Cove? Was it a fever dream😂? I admit the writing was bad, but have you seen the writing in Supernatural (I say this as a SPN fan)???

And I know some people will say they ship Marvel characters because they have a bigger audience and there were no canon Queer characters in blockbusters, but I feel like that a lie too because when there were indeed Queer characters in those blockbusters, they were ignored as well. Like in the Eternals.

Fandoms can be so powerful when they want to...they can make or break a movie, so acting like the focus on non canon couples was the only option surprises me.

Shipping is just about shipping. It's a hobby.

Stucky or any non-canon Marvel ship isn't "History", it's just a ship.

Last exemple: Let's take a look at 2 popular couples from the same franchise: 9-1-1 and 911: Lone Star. Only one of the couples in canon, but Can you Guess which one is more popular on Ao3 and on Tumblr ?

The non-canon couple!

Almost 3 Times as much fics for Buddie than TK x Carlos who are an actualcouple and even got married!

Shipping non-canon couples isn't about representation but about finding a story to fantasize about, which isn't bad itself but it's bad when you pretend shipping is something it isn't?

TL:DR: Shipping non-canon couples isn't activism imo.

I would be happy to hear tour thoughts because as I said, I only joined Tumblr later so I don't have all the info.

[rootedinrevisions]

Five More Minutes

SUMMARY: You and Jake are headed to The Hard Deck to meet the daggers, but a few things risk making you late.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I apologize that it's taken me a month to get it written. I hope it's worth the wait! I'm working to get requests done as I have time and the inspiration is flowing! Hope you enjoy! xx

WARNINGS: None, smut is implied but none actually happens.

WORD COUNT: 767

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

Jake sprawled on the edge of the bed, bouncing his knee impatiently as he watched you at the vanity. He glanced at his watch for the fifth time in the past ten minutes before letting out a dramatic sigh. “Babe, come on,” he drawled, leaning back on his palms. “We’re gonna be late! We were supposed to be there by nine!”

“Five more minutes,” you called over your shoulder, carefully applying the last bit of mascara. Your voice was calm, but Jake could hear the teasing lilt in it, and he knew you weren’t in any rush.

“Five more minutes?” he repeated, raising a brow and letting out a soft laugh. “Sweetheart, you said that twenty minutes ago. You realize they’re all gonna roast me for this, right? Phoenix is gonna have a field day.”

“Phoenix already roasts you,” you shot back, swapping the mascara for your lipstick. “I’m just giving her more material to work with.”

Jake groaned, flopping back onto the bed in defeat. “I knew you’d be trouble the moment I laid eyes on you,” he muttered, though his tone was light and full of affection.

“And yet, here you are two months later, and still with me” you replied, smirking as you caught his reflection in the mirror.

He propped himself up on his elbows, his green eyes narrowing as he watched you smooth a hand over your outfit. 

“Here I am,” he agreed, his smirk matching yours. “Sittin’ here, waitin’.”

“You wouldn’t be waiting if you hadn’t joined me in the shower,” you shot back, not even looking at him as you adjusted an earring in the mirror. Your knowing look in the reflection caught his eye, and Jake’s smirk widened into something that made your stomach flip. 

He sat up straighter, feigning innocence. “Now, I don’t recall you complainin’ about that,” he drawled, standing and taking slow, deliberate steps toward you.

You met him halfway, tilting your chin up as he closed the distance. “I wasn’t,” you admitted, your voice softening just a little. “But we both know that’s why we’re running late.”

“Not sure what you’re talkin’ about,” he murmured, feigning innocence as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips found the spot just below your ear, brushing against it in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You sighed, trying to maintain your composure as he trailed soft kisses along your neck. “Jake,” you warned, though your tone lacked conviction. “We’re already late.”

Jake pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk now bordering on devilish. “Five minutes,” he said, mimicking your earlier words as he leaned down again. “Hell, I only need two.”

You raised a brow, fighting the urge to smile. “Is that so? Pretty sure I remember you needing a lot more than two in the shower.”

“Let’s give ‘em a real reason to wonder why we’re late.” His mischievous grin returned, and he started tugging you toward the bed.

You raised a brow, laughing as you dug your heels into the floor to stop him. 

“What happened to you trying to rush me five minutes ago, huh?” you teased, your voice light and playful. “Weren’t you the one whining about how we’re gonna be late?”

Jake stopped, turning back to you with that signature cocky smirk you both loved and hated. “I realized I had my priorities all wrong,” he said, his tone smooth as honey. His hands slipped to your waist, pulling you closer. “A little late never hurt anybody. But missing the chance to keep you in my arms a little longer? Now that would be a crime.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip at his words despite yourself. “Wow, you’re really laying it on thick tonight,” you said, though the corners of your lips twitched upward. “But we’re still not skipping out just because you’ve got no self-control.”

Jake leaned in until his forehead rested against yours, his grin never wavering. “No self-control when it comes to you, sweetheart. Guilty as charged.”

“Okay, Casanova,” you said, gently patting his chest and stepping back. “Let’s get going before your squad decides to start placing bets on whether or not we’re ever showing up.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented with a chuckle. “Just know, sweetheart, that the second we get home, you’re mine.”

“And you’ll still only need a few minutes,” you quipped, grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

“Keep talkin’ like that, darlin’,” Jake called after you, grabbing his jacket with a chuckle, “and we’ll see who’s beggin’ for more time later.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

How about #25 with either Thor or Deadpool?🙃💛

.⋆｡Save A Cowboy?｡⋆.

Thor x plus size reader

When Thor overhears one of your songs and becomes confused about its meaning, you have to show him what it means- it’s the right thing to do

Warnings: implied smut, the usual Thor cluelessness, fluff, little bit of nudity

WC: 455

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

3000 Follower Celebration

Girl’s night was sacred. It was the one night a month where you and the rest of the girls in the Avengers plus Maria and Pepper, go out on Tony’s money and get royally fucked up while shit-talking the dumb men in your lives. 

Music blasted from your speakers as you danced around your room in your underwear, singing along. Your bedroom door opened suddenly and a blond head popped through while you were belting out a very passionate rendition of one particular country song that got you in the mood to party.

“Dove?” Thor’s powerful voice easily carried over the music, startling you.

“Jesus Christ!” You yelped, whipping around to face your best friend, not bothering to try and cover up. “Thor, how many times have I told you to knock.” You turned down your music to a more appropriate level. He just shrugged and took that as a signal to enter your room, shutting the door behind him.

“I did knock, the melodies you were playing were very loud and must have covered it.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure. Was there something you wanted or do you just make it a habit of walking into a lady’s room when she isn’t dressed?” Turning from him, you grab the jeans that you were wearing out tonight.

“What does ‘save a cowboy’ mean?” Your brows drew together in confusion before you laughed.

“It’s not ‘save a cowboy’ it’s ‘save a horse’. Y’a know, ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’.” You stepped into the tight jeans and pulled them up your legs, giving a little hop to get the denim over your ass.

“Why would you ride a cowboy? It seems very inefficient. It would make more sense to have a steed or a large cat.” Thor seemed genuinely confused and borderline upset over the misunderstanding. You quickly abandoned the rest of your clothes in favour of comforting your best friend.

“It’s a metaphor for sex.” You said plainly, knowing from past experiences that you had to be direct with the god. Yet his lips were still downturned and his blue eyes dulled with confusion. You sighed heavily through your nose.

Then an idea struck you. A glance at the clock told you that you had a little over an hour before you had to meet with the girls. “Fuck it.” You shoved Thor with all your might and he fell back onto your bed, landing on the mattress with an ‘oof’.

You shimmied back out of your jeans and straddled the god. His hands immediately came to rest on your wide hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “How about a demonstration?” 

The girls wouldn’t mind if you were a little late.

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