#when his whiteness is SO apparently in his identity

[strawberrytalia]

ermmmmm

poc tim hcs are…something. obviously with poc creators, it’s fully valid. but a lot of yt people don’t realize the significance of how certain characters’ races correlate to them. remember that era in which every batfam fan and their mother was spewing latino jason, asian tim, and black steph without thinking of any ramifications?? yeah i was guilty of that too in 2018. i was ignorant. racial headcanons don’t exist in a vacuum, it comes from pre-conceived notions and then a bunch of people follow that in an effort to look “woke”

and a lot of people don’t understand that tim is a self-insert for white people. he was created to cater to a classist white boy audience. and now, i’m sorry, but it’s still mostly white people who relate to him. fanon tim and the blank canon tim that’s appeared past pre-boot exists because that’s what he is.

making tim black or blasian or especially east asian, feels performative imo. like i don’t want to say harmful, but i feel like it’s more meaningful to keep certain characters white, rather than give them a random ethnic identity that you never plan on touching on and exploring. tim was raised wealthy and privileged. tim victimizes himself against a 10 year old brown arab child. these are just facts. you making him black but being unable to tie that into his identity doesn’t make sense. and i know poc who are whitewashed don’t connect to their culture exist, but it comes from a writer’s lack of knowledge or lack of effort most times. just saying that it makes more sense for tim to be white and be characterized accordingly, as opposed to making him a poc just for brownie points.

and don’t even get me started on the east asian tim headcanon bc he’s “smart and techy.” you fell for the model minority myth and that tells me enough 💀

[sneakyboymerlin]

Why do so many people in this fandom obsessively treat Morgana like she’s nothing but some passive helpless eye candy who can’t make decisions for her own adult self and is just pushed and pulled and shaped by the men in her life… I’m serious, you all need to manage your misogyny.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to help Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[aaa-battery-not-rechargeable]

about a month ago, my uncle asked if I had a significant other. I appreciate his gender inclusivity, of course.

I'm used to the question. it's not like it's something outrageous that he's asking. so I simply said no, that's not for me.

he looked at me and said "well, someday." not someday maybe, just.... someday.

of course I'm not quick to anger, but there's a part of me that's a little more defensive about my aroace identity. so I jumped to my defense.

my uncle isn't a bad guy, he's quite nice and tries his best to be respectful in the current political shit storm by supporting queer people. but apparently that does exclude me, an aroace.

I reiterated that I'm just not interested in a romantic or sexual partnership, and I really do not ever see that changing.

and he said something to the effect of "it's okay if you don't want that now."

and I said, "no, it's just okay that I don't want that."

and he said that I was pessimistic. as if I was secretly searching for a relationship or a partner, but was rejecting love because I could not find one.

I calmly (with all the rage in my veins) told him "no, a life without love or sex is something optimistic for me."

he had the gall to look horrified.

I'm sick of aroace people not being seen as normal human people when they don't want the outcome of their life to look like everyone else's. I'm sick of the white picket fence, I'm sick of the assumption that everyone has another half out there.

I'm whole on my own.

[flamingpudding]

Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

[charliemwrites]

Part 1

Finally finished this! I think I put way too much pressure on myself to get this just right and it gave me some major writer's block. Anyway, please enjoy!

Content: Wet dreams, Somnophilia (sort of), Identity Porn, Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy (through dreams), Uncomfortable Situation, Pushy/Predatory behavior (brief)

“Bad dreams again?”

Drowsy and sluggish, you blink at your aunt. She’s as sleek and coiffed as always, pressed business attire and shiny hair. Shoulders back, spine straight. A woman people respect and heed without question.

Your mother’s voice whispers in your ear, that lovingly patronizing tone. See how professional she looks, dear? Isn’t that nice?

It’s not Aunt Katie’s fault though. She does look professional, and it is nice. It suits her.

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “They’re not bad, really. Just… intense.”

She hums, elegant fingers tracing the edge of your borrowed desk. “They can’t be very good if they’re keeping you up.”

You’re tired enough that you almost correct her a second time. The problem is that the dreams are too good. You wake up panting, sweating, halfway to – well. You’re not about to discuss the finer points of a kinky wet dream with your CIA aunt. Besides, it’s silly to get so defensive of something that affects you seemingly negatively.

“Maybe,” you reply, rubbing at your heavy eyes. It feels like you’re trying to look through clear jelly.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Aunt Kate suggests.

You frown, a pang of guilt striking your empty tummy. “No… no, I’m okay. It’s not even lunch yet.”

She smiles at you. The same fond smile she’s always graced you with, on holidays and birthdays, whenever she could escape the secretive walls and red tape to be with family.

“You’re already ahead on paperwork. You’re not a bad employee for getting a little sun.”

Your eyes flick longingly to the door.

Apparently, the government doesn’t believe in things like windows or sunlight. Your little desk is at the very end of a long, half-empty hallway in the middle of a concrete cube and drowning in awful blue fluorescence. You can’t even bring yourself to drag a plant to this crappy little island because you’d feel too guilty putting it through this.

“Okay… maybe just for a few minutes,” you allow.

Her smile widens as she nods for you to follow. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. I think the dogs will be free for some enrichment.”

Well, that certainly gets you out of your squeaky office chair.

Honey sunlight drizzles over your neck and shoulders, dripping syrupy-slow down your spine. It diffuses through your chest, chasing away the artificial chill of the office. The sleepy haze retreats like frost melting from glass.

You sigh into the fresh air, ignoring the tang of gunpowder lingering on the breeze, and turn your face to the sun. Summer is coming to an end, the heat broken into mellower warmth. There won’t be many days like this left before autumn bites down and shakes the leaves from the trees. A shame you’ll likely waste most of them in your administrative prison. 

The dogs stretch out in the grass around you, tongues lolling and eyes bright, keeping you company. A furry bouquet of black and tan in the manicured grass, their ears and tails like stalks to strange plants.

You bury your fingers in Zeus’s coat and get a fuzzy white tummy for your efforts. He’s a young and handsome thing, the newest addition to the K-9 unit, still a bit fluffy around the ears. You try not to think of how that will fade and harden, just like the older dogs in the unit, just like his human counterparts. Just scratch at that itchy spot by his ribs and smile when his hindleg kicks.

Friga stands and stretches on your right side, leaning her shoulder into yours. Then picks her way around the others to sniff at Zeus. Offended by her interruption, he flails onto his stomach and nips at her, one big forepaw thumping the ground.

She goads him into playtime, and you watch with the older pack members as they begin to romp. They tumble and grumble around you, heedless of bumping into any of the others. You laugh, bright and loud—

The back of your neck tingles.

You glance around, not even sure why. Until you see a figure across the field. He’s standing by the track where about two dozen men are jogging. Recruits, you guess. But he’s not observing them or barking orders. No, he’s clearly turned to face you. It’s too far to make out any features, apart from what seems to be an unusual haircut.

You quickly glance away, surreptitiously trying to determine if the man’s attention was on something else that happened to be in your direction. But there’s little else but you and the dogs in this field, the kennels noticeably off to the left.

Then again, someone sitting in the grass with half the K-9 unit is a bit unusual. He’s probably trying to decide if it’s something that needs investigation. You hope it’s not.

Still, you can’t shake the discomfiting sense that he’s looking at you.

You ignore him until it’s time for the dogs to go back - but that prickly feeling of being watched never subsides.

That night, in the guest room of your aunts’ house, the dreams take on new life.

It starts as it always does. A dark room. A lush bed. Silky sheets. Moonlight seeping through blinds like smoke. And him.

He’s behind you. A broad body so solid you’d think he was a wall if not for the heat. It’s so intense this time, like a wildfire raging out of control, crawling from his skin beneath yours. You sense more than feel the big hand around your jaw. Rough fingers clutch at the plush of your thigh. Hot breath fans across the back of your neck, rippling shivers down your spine.

There’s a voice in your ear. No words you can discern, just a thunder-deep rumble with smoky edges. Stubble scrapes the delicate skin of your neck and catches in your hair.

A thick, heavy cock is buried deep inside you, kissing the entrance to your womb. Your pussy twinges a sweet-sharp ache with each deliberate grind of his hips. He’s spreading you open to get as deep as he can, throbbing balls pressed up tight to your sopping entrance.

Your own hands are all but useless. One twists desperately in the sheets, the other clutches at the meaty swell of his ass. Pleasure upends anything like sense or thought, even hazy dream logic. There is just this man fucking you like he owns you, two of his fingers in your drooling mouth, petting your tongue. A ring clicks against your teeth.

“Found you,” he whispers.

You jolt, eyes flying open. The powder blue ceiling of your borrowed room greets you. You’ve kicked the cotton sheets into a tangled mess around your ankles, tiny shirt ridden up your chest. Your panties are soaked.

The taste of metal lingers behind your incisors.

It’s a busy day. For once, you’re free from the confines of your sad little nook. Aunt Kate must have taken pity on your sorry state the day before and has procured busy work. Files that need hand delivery, or physical reports for you to gather. You don’t care if it’s just something to get you out of the office, you relish the stolen moments outside between buildings.

If there’s a downside, it’s the glances you attract. Everything about you projects civilian, despite the access card prominently pinned to the lapel of your blazer. It draws curious once-overs at best and suspicious scans at worst – or speculative appreciation at the very worst. Every time a fresh-faced recruit or overly decorated middle-aged man lingers as you pass, you hear your mother’s voice again.

Don’t you know what those military men are like? Practically animals. I couldn’t possibly let you be exposed to them.

It’s long ingrained to keep your eyes forward, head level, and try to keep your hips from swaying as much as possible. You’re grateful for whatever bit of paperwork you can clutch to your chest, just to hide your figure and have something to do with your hands.

You’re picking up some personnel files from the infirmary, smile brightly at the receptionist as she passes them over. Mallory is only a couple years older than you, and she’s been working here a year already.

“Lunch in the mess today?” she asks, spinning a pen between her fingers.

“As if you even need to ask,” you tease. “Noon?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

She blows you a kiss as you leave, counting the number of files to be sure you have them all. Your eyes skim over one of the names, a white label on the folder fin. “MacTavish, J.” in blocky typewriter font. You shuffle them back into a neat stack and pivot for Aunt Kate’s office.

You’re not in the moonlit bedroom this time. A half-moon grins down from a starry sky, wearing smoky nebulas for lipstick. Beneath you lays cool grass and soft earth, rich and loamy in your heaving lungs. Petals blooming in the dark kiss your overheated skin, little relief for the burn in your veins.

The change in scenery is almost as dizzying as the man between your thighs. Almost.

But it’s not the dew-saturated breeze that muddles your bewildered thoughts. It’s the hot, wet, clever tongue lavishing your drenched pussy. He licks in broad stripes from your aching hole to your throbbing clit, only ever pausing to indulge a slow suck to the bundle of nerves, before resuming that hypnotic circuit.

One thigh is hooked over a wide shoulder, your heel dug into the flexing muscles of a broad back. The other is spread by a big, calloused hand, giving him unfettered access to the softest, neediest parts of you.

You mewl desperately, hand darting down to his bobbing head. Your nails scrape shorn stubble, eliciting a gravelly groan that sends electricity up your tingling spine. It’s nothing compared to the growl you earn when your fingers twist into the longer, soft strands at the top.

For the first time, you’re able to voice more than helpless moans and wanton whimpers.

“Please,” you sob softly, “please.”

You feel him smirking, a wicked curl against your fluttering cunt. Then he focuses the tip of that awful, dexterous tongue on your clit, flicking in purposeful little strokes.

M-A-

“S-so close,” you whine, hips twitching. He pins you flat, pace never faltering.

V-I-

You shudder as your pussy clenches and spasms, finally, finally—

You wake with a sharp sound, head spinning. Your orgasm washes away like the tide, leaving disappointment and exhaustion behind. You nearly scream into your pillow as you press your thighs together. Still half asleep, it even feels like you have beard-burn.

You’re in line at the mess with Mallory, listening to her complain about some rude colonel that just had to share his opinion about her acrylics. She does the best impressions, and you’re grinning and laughing as the two of you shuffle through the options. You’re reaching for a scoop of rice when the conversation behind you catches your attention.

“—came in a couple days ago.”

“The whole squad?”

“With Braveheart himself.”

A snort. “You better not let MacTavish hear you say that. He’ll—”

“Helloooo?” You blink at Mallory, who arches her brows and waves a bagel at you. “Want one?”

“Oh, uh… sure, why not,” you answer.

“Atta girl!” she cheers, tossing it in the toaster. “Carbs for days.”

You giggle but can’t help glancing behind you. The two men have already moved on though. Not that it was any of your business – or anything interesting. You’re not sure why that caught your attention. Men are just loud, you suppose, snatching a couple to-go packets of cream cheese.

As you’re leaving the mess, you happen to glance over your shoulder. A pair of sharp blue eyes catch yours from one of the tables. A group of men, just about to sit. Mallory tugs your shirt to keep you from clipping the doorjamb and you hurry after her.

There’s heat at your back. Not from a body this time, but a fire burning low and hot in a hearth. No, the body is in front of you this time, filling up your watery field of vision. Peachy skin and coarse dark hair, an old scar slashing across a sharp hip, miles of lean muscle.

Not that you have much opportunity to ogle with tears blurring your sight. The fat cock bullying the back of your throat makes it hard to do anything but choke. You dig your nails into a thick thigh and pull back, writhing your tongue along a puffy vein as you go. The leaking head rests on your drenched tongue as you catch your breath. Smoke and leather and musk saturate your lungs, cloud your empty head.

He smells so good; you don’t even like cigars.

A rough thumb caresses your cheek, a silent request for you to continue. You can practically feel the lust-drunk moans vibrating in his chest – so deep, they’re barely audible over the crackling fire.

You hiccup as deep a breath as you can manage and swallow him down again. He’s silky on your tongue, you sigh softly through your nose as the blunt head flirts with your gag reflex. You slacken your jaw despite the ache already crawling into the joint. Even then, your teeth scrape the base a bit, but that only makes him twitch against your soft palate.

“Look here, love.”

Your lashes flutter as you try to focus your gaze, scrolling your eyes up his body. Most of the details are lost either in the haze of desire or the vagary of dreams, but the blue eyes that greet you are sharper than real life.

You jolt back to consciousness with a dry cough, the scent of him still haunting your senses. You stumble to the restroom for water. Don’t even realize that you’re glancing in the mirror over your shoulder, expecting someone to be there, until you realize you’re alone.

Oddly bereft, you trudge back to bed and try to focus on the clean soap smell of your aunts’ detergent.

In moments like this, it’s hard not to blame yourself.

Not because you’ve done anything wrong, or even feel like you have. It’s because the situation is so frustratingly out of your control that it’s almost easier to tell yourself that one decision or another would have avoided this outcome. A sharper response, a frown instead of a smile, a different walking route.

(There’s also your mother’s voice, always. Saying to be smart, to pay attention, to not “put yourself” in a vulnerable position. You silence that voice viciously this time.)

Still, the fact of the matter is, there’s no personal choice you could have made to keep Corporal Callahan from cornering you in this supply closet. You just wanted a box of tissues.

“Look, I know you’re Agent Laswell’s niece, but I don’t see why we can’t go out because of it,” he reasons. As if that’s the reason you’ve been trying to gently dissuade his attempts.

“It’s not that—” you begin, shifting. He’s standing too close, but you refuse to back yourself any deeper into this tiny space. The doorway is right there, he’s just taking up all of it.

“Then just say yes,” he chuckles. His tone is all smooth and easy, meant to be charming maybe? “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking.”

Except you’re not asking, you think with helpless frustration. The sharp words get trapped behind your teeth, cutting up the roof of your mouth. Your heart is beating so hard and loud you can barely hear his “romantic” overtures.

“I’m not really…” You’re not even sure what to say this time; you’ve already told him you’re not looking to date. He’d said some vaguely predatory line about changing your mind.

In the absence of a finished statement, Callahan takes the opportunity to continue cajoling.

“C’mon,” he sing-songs, “I’m not letting you out of there until you say yes.”

You pry your jaw open, about to agree to it just for the sake of getting free. Deal with the fallout later.

There’s a rush of air and suddenly the doorway is empty. You briefly see Callahan against the opposite wall, face blank in unpleasant surprise. Then a big body blocks your view of him. Broad, bunched shoulders and thick thighs. A shock of brunet hair shaved close at the sides and long at the top. Your entire body locks up.

“You come near her again, they won’ stop findin’ pieces of ya, aye?” A growl, low and rough, Scottish accent thick. You shiver.

Callahan stutters something, a few garbled syllables through a strained and winded voice. You think you might hear “captain” in there somewhere. The bigger man shifts, you hear a muffled thump – Callahan hitting the wall again, you think. Then, with seemingly no effort, your savior tosses Callahan to the side like trash. He stumbles, catches himself.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid.”

Callahan flicks one last frightened glance your way then hurries off, proverbial tail tucked between his scrawny legs. You don’t even watch him go, eyes glued to the stranger’s muscular back. He rolls his wide shoulders, cracks his neck, and finally turns.

Familiar blue eyes pin you in place as he steps closer. The scent of cigar smoke and leather teases your nose.

A voice you’ve known for months rumbles in his chest. “Found you.”

Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[faeriekit]

I feel like you’ll appreciate this flavor of feral brain rot as a true delicacy.

Ghostly Courting 101

1.) When you have someone you like, you politely sneak into their haunt and leave a gift that hints at your identity. If they’re interested, they’ll start hunting for you. If not, it’ll be removed without the other party feeling any societal pressure.

2.) For ghosts who died a violent or wrongful death, one of the most meaningful things you can do is avenge them. Attack their murderer, haunt their negligent doctor, etc. It’s not guaranteed to win their affection, but it’s a hell of a display.

Now, per the laws of unintended consequences, Danny finds Red Hood rearranging his freezer.

It’s 3:00 AM. He just wanted some water. Why is Gotham’s favorite son trying to leave him a fuck off huge casserole?

“Are you trying to propose or something?” Danny asks the liminal.

“Maybe???”

“Ghost weird or fruitloop weird?” Danny snatches his boo-berry ice cream and starts digging for a spoon.

Red Hood takes off his helmet to make sure Danny can see the Eyebrow of Judgment.

“Fruitloop then,” he says between bites. “We haven’t even sparred, and I sure as shit didn’t avenge you or anything.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Hood, why are you blushing?”

He couldn’t make out much from the outraged sputtering, but Danny nearly shat his fucking core out when it clicked.

“Is this about Joker???”

Danny was gonna take the stuttering as a yes.

Cool, cool, cool. He was calm. He was so fucking normal, it was fine, it was fine, it was—

Ancients take him, Danny beat the shit out of this guy’s murderer or something. He basically did a fucking flash mob proposal!

“Why the fuck am I even here?!” Red Hood screamed.

And the other guy’s fucking clueless!

I see, I see.

1: Which casserole. This is important. What casserole could the hindbrain of Jason Peter Todd's ghost instincts think is marriage material?? Is this like a comfort food can-of-cream-of-mushroom based casserole dish or like one of those newfangled sushi bake type things?? What did Jason whip out to prove he's marriage material??

2: What does JASON think is going on?? Did he hunt Danny down?? Did he just wake up in a stranger's apartment with a casserole in his hand?? Did he go to the grocery store with a list in mind or did he get home and realize he (for some reason) had every ingredient to make tuna casserole??

3: Wait. So does this mean that Jason thinks that casseroles are a good enough hint at his identity??? Does some part of Jason think that his most essential and core part of his identity is his tendency towards caretaking?? YO—

4: It's in a vintage pyrex. Look me in the eyes. This is not just Pyrex it's gotta be the old style pyrex that doesn't shatter in the oven without a pan underneath it. I am a connoisseur of white people culture and this is deeply important to me. It could even be one of the patterned ones. This is part of the gesture.

5: Danny is emotionally moved and it sucks considering that this was a complete accident

6: Jason is emotionally moved and has no idea what the fuck is going on. He wakes up at his safehouse one morning with bridal magazines in his hands which he apparently bought himself?? He's going insane. Is he cursed?? Did that twink who kicked the Joker's ass curse him??????? Curse him into...matrimony???????????????????

[tiny-space-platypus]

Never really fit back in

Part 5 9:47 PM June 26 How much can you lose in a day?

Previous

11:00 PM June 25

Damian was infuriated and terrified. He wanted to keep his brother from the family at first. He had wanted to meet him on his own first. Damian wanted to ease him into the family unlike how he was but apparently his family had other ideas.

He could only watch from the cameras he had hacked into a while ago. There was no time to get the Masters Manor, there was no time to protect his brother. Though Damian knew his brother never needed protection, Danyal Al Gul was the stronger twin, the smarter twin, and the more protective twin. Danyal never let Damian be punished if he could help it, Danyal took the blame for any misdeed or mistake and when he couldn't he'd just switch places with Damian. They were practically identical after all and every time Danyal would return smiling. Happy to have protected him and Damian repaid that kindness by killing him.

He watched as his brother disappeared out of his father's grasp. Damian would need to explain his brother to his family as soon as they got back.

He'd need to tell that that Danyal was supposed to be dead. By his hands. That he had died when he were 7. How he melted away into the pit instead of coming back to them.

He needed to find his brother, to explain this misdeed. He had just gotten his brother back Damian couldn't lose him again.

Midnight June 26th

"I'm your son"

The bitter and hurt voice of his son rang in his ears as he made his way back to the Alley. That boy couldn't be his son. He would have been told if he had another-

Tim was in the cave, Bruce had sent him there with samples from Danny. Samples he wanted tested and the computers he wanted scrapped. When the test came back, it confirmed Danny was his son. He needed answers and the Fentons likely had them. They did raise the boy after all but first, he had to see his parents. Bruce doubted he'd be able to follow his normal routine for the day anyways. So he left the flowers at the sight of their death early on the oh so rainy anniversary of their death. He whispered to flowers as he placed them down. "I don't believe I'll be able to follow our tradition this year. I'm sorry"

... The Fentons weren't as helpful as Bruce had hoped.

They practically knew nothing of their son or daughter instead they kept rambling on about the dangers of ghosts and Phantom. In short they were insane..

Until Tim and Barbara checked their computers, till they called an all hands to show the Fentons cutting open and tearing apart a boy with white flowing hair and terrified green eyes. The boy had some sort of muzzle on to prevent him from speaking or screaming, all he could do was cry as the Fentons spoke of him like he was a monster. Tim skipped over most of the recording, showing the Fenton pulling organs and bones out of the poor boy as he fast-forwarded to after the Fentons had left, leaving the boy strapped down and still cut open on their metal table. A red headed girl came down the stairs to the lab and carefully removed his restraints. In a small flash of light the white haired boy was gone replaced with Danny. Green blood now an awful red as his head lolled again the girl. The girl then threw him through a green portal they had been off when they tore down the Fenton Lab.

They were quiet for a moment before Barbara played the next Video of Masters making closes of Danny and using said clones to attack the boy. Then it was Damian's turn to explain his brother's story. By the end of it Bruce had realized his mistake but as it always was with his children. He realized too late.

9:55 PM June 26

It was raining when Danyal finally made it to Gotham. Flying would normally help with his rage, help with the emotions he normally refused to let loose. He wanted to make sure this is what he wanted so he waited a full day before taking action. The emotions he hid as Danny and festered in as Phantom where now let loose as his core slowly turned the rainy summer night of Gotham into a snow storm. Danyal didn't care that the living below him weren't prepared for the sudden change of temperature and weather. He didn't care because the living shouldn't be his problem. The living weren't his problem anymore. At least the dead were consistent, they either feared him or loved him or both. They didn't cause havoc anymore only occasionally coming around for a friendly spar. His rogues were more of a family than his real one ever was.

Ｃｒａｃｋ

It's time to balance the scales. The living loved to take and take and take and now it was time to give.

Ｃ ｒ ａ ｃ ｋ

Danyal could feel Gotham mourning. Mourning a loss from decades earlier, the loss of Thomas and Martha Wayne as the city did every year for her knights. Danyal does feel a little bad for disturbing a sacred day for the city but if anyone had the right to do so it would be him.

Danny stood in Crime Alley looking down at the soaking wet and slowly freezing roses left of the ground some time before he got there. He frowned at the roses as he made 2 little ice vases to place the frozen flowers in. Danyal knew they were memorial flowers by the two spirits that hovered around them. He sat with the ghosts of his would-be grandparents, rage still radiating off of him.

He detransforms back into his human form except for the glowing green katana he summoned. Now he waits, holding a katana that felt both so right and so wrong in his hands. Danyal will grow used to it again.

The two ghosts fidgeted as Martha elbowed her husband wanting him to say something to their angry grandson. He cleared his throat and tried to speak softly. "He didn't know Phantom. None of them knew. None of them like speaking of death."

Danny scoffed, "yes I am very aware of how uncomfortable the living are with dying." He ran his fingers along the edge of his blade. "It's what I get for hoping for something better. Now everything is so much worse."

Martha cut in her voice soft as she placed a ghostly hand on the young lonely king. "He would love to have you once everything is explained"

Danny buried his face in his hands before looking up at the smog filled sky. "I-I don't think I want that anymore. They didn't even try to get to know me before trying to destroy my life." Danny paused as he looked back at the frozen flowers. "Maybe I should go find Mother, she loved me once, she cared once. Damian can stay here and I can take care of the league. Maybe that's my place"

10:15 PM June 26

It didn't take long to be found, Danyal knew it wouldn't. There is always at least one Bat around here, he was expecting Red Hood or Jason whichever pill boy liked to be called. But that's not who found him. Instead he was face to face with Batman, instead he was face to face with a father that was never his. A father who never loved him.

Ｃ ｒ ａ ｃ ｋ

If Danyal hadn't followed his father or had lived with Damian as a child, he probably would have found the constant scowl intimating but Danyal was King and possible heir to the league. 2 positions he never wanted but 2 positions he'd take anyways. "I'm not here for you Batman. I'm here for my brother."

————————

Bruce looked down at the boy in front of him. A boy he failed to recognize twice, but now he couldn't help but recognize him. A boy who was almost identical to Damian except for the icy blue eyes that were currently staring a hole through him. Just like how Damian did when he first arrived at the Manor. Would this child also come to the manor? Would he even want to join the family after all they've done? What he could do was try and ensure their decisions didn't ruin his sons' relationship. Bruce couldn't let his mistakes tear his sons apart again.

"The attack wasn't Robin's idea. It was mine, I'm sorry." Bruce's gaze was soft and he was apologizing but it was all too little too late. "If I had known-"

Danyal stares at Bruce matching his gaze with a glare. He snapped at Bruce. "If you had known, you would have for tea? Played up that nice and goofy dad persona? I've played that game before too and I don't need to play it again."

Damian would soon drop down from the roof tops disobeying Bruce's grounding. Damian dressed as Robin with his katana stood facing a now different Danyal dressed in a league uniform. Danyal's eyes shifted a glowing green as his skin became as pale as Bruce and hair pure whispy white. He looked over at Bruce as his crown appeared over his head shifted between fire and ice as it floated above his head. A command rang out from the boy.

"Don't interfere"

Danyal then turned to Damian and held out his blade. Danyal's eyes were cold as he stared at his brother who also prepared himself to spare. He took a deep breath as he felt a little nostalgic this was just like how they'd spare when they were young except Danyal wasn't going to hold back this time.

Damian stared as his brother's cold glare, he wasn't used to it. His brother had always been the happy cheery and easy going brother. It was why grandfather didn't like him. It's why mother loved him. That glare however reminded him more of grandfather, a man he knew his brother hated.

"I once hoped we could be a family again Dami. I understand that was a foolish wish now"

Ｃｒａｃｋ

—————————

A small buzz came from Bruce Com, a small reminder he had built into it to remind him of the time every year at the time. 9:42 June 26th, 5 minutes til he's supposed to be in this alley watching over his parents Death sight. Yet again Bruce was powerless, unable to move to stop his sons from fighting. Unable to prevent another death in the family. The fight was quick, Danyal was the winner cutting down his brother as easily as he did to him so many years ago.

Bruce watched Damian fall and screamed as he tried desperately to move, to get to his son. He couldn't- not here, please not here. He watched as Danyal pulled out his sword allowing Damian to slump further.

Move MOVE MOVE 𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙀

But he couldn't, all he could do was watch as his son's face paled and breathing labored. Damian was dying and there wasn't a damned thing he could do... Again.

Danyal grabbed Damian by the hair pulling him up to the wounds through his chest was entirely visible and bleeding profusely.

"You're lucky I promised Mother I would always take care of you"

Danyal presses his green blade into Damian's chest allowing the living brother to take in the ectoplasm Blade to heal. The pit and ectoplasm were practically the same after all. Danyal then snapped his fingers after dropping Damian. Bruce Stumbled forward and grabbed Damian immediately then began to call for back up. As Bruce focused on his now unconscious son, Danyal disappeared into the shadows.

9:47 PM June 26th

[tanglepelt]

Dp x dc idea 39

Danny is Bruce’s bio kid but only finds out because his parents disowned him and Danny ended up being the teen titans unofficial feral sometimes member.

Danny has a new identity that has been emancipated curtesy of tucker. Danny broke the portal before he left so no more ghost problems.

Danny ends up in a new town working at a coffee shop and taking classes online. He has a trashy one bedroom apartment.

He ends up occasionally helping out this hero group called the teen titans. He doesn’t like the adult hero’s.

I need a paranoid person so it’s the teen titans with Tim drake. I need questions to be asked. Plus i feel like Danny and Conner would have fun sparing.

i imagine Danny like a stray cat. If they spook him he hisses and goes invisible. Food is a good way to coax Danny out. I like feral Danny. So he definitely bit at least one of the members.

As he warms up to him they find out more about him. That his parents essentially kicked him out. He got his powers in a lab accident. Apparently food has attacked him. A godfather who wants to forcibly adopt him and a bunch of concerning information.

Even with this Tim can’t figure out who is the white haired green eyes civilian identity. he just goes invisible when he leaves and trackers just don’t work. It’s driving him nuts.

During one fight danny gets injured and is forced back to his human form. Tim now knows who he is as he frequents the coffee shop Danny works at.

Danny begrudgingly agreed to have his dna tested. Not for identity but because none of the medical supplies worked on him. Stitches dissolved and pain meds did not work. Besides he is adopted so it’s not like a family match would help them find his real identity.

The dna gets run by tim. Nothing pops up for Danny but Bruce Wayne pops up as his biological father.

Bruce had no idea he had a second son. Danny just wants to avoid the billionaire attempting to enter his life. No more fruitloops for him.

[reidmoony-toast]

Orange Juice. ౨ৎ

"Feels like I've been ready for you to come home for so long"

Spencer x fem singer!reader

The two times they miss each other, and the one time they don't

content: no use of y/n, so much fluff, pining

cw: literally nothing!! <3

wc: 2.6k

an: This has taken me SO LONG and I'm not very proud of it 😭 Anyways hope you enjoy, ily xx

| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | series masterlist ౨ৎ

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

She was dreaming of him when she woke up. She groaned, burying her face into the crisp white mass of her hotel pillow. Sun filtered through the large windows, dust motes dancing in between the rays of light.

The sky was a vibrant blue, only a select few clouds scattered across its expanse. The trees on the opposite side of the street swayed in a gentle breeze, looking content and greener than ever.

For Virginia, it was beautiful weather. A perfect day. Usually, on a day like today, she would be bounding out of bed to start her morning bright and early. But, she had been dreaming of him, and that wasn't something she wanted to wake up from.

She was back in Virginia to record a few songs for her new album—it was, apparently, filled with a few too many sad songs, mostly about her previous breakup.

Her producer had told her to ‘go away and write some more upbeat songs’ to give the album more variety, and to make it more like her last album.

She cringed just thinking about it. What the hell was she supposed to write about? No immediate inspiration had struck, and she was starting to think that she wasn't cut out for happy songs anymore. And that was a depressing thought.

She gave up on going back to sleep, instead getting up slowly, with another groan, as her limbs protested from the sudden movement. She stretched, yawning, as she tried to recall her dream.

It had been good, she remembered that, but the details were fuzzy, becoming less and less clear the more time she spent awake. Curse her and her weak memory recall—it was especially bad when it came to dreams.

Another thing that didn't help with her little obsession, was a multitude of videos that were making the rounds of her and the ‘mystery man’, as her fans had dubbed him.

The comments were filled with theories and speculation, wondering if she had a new boyfriend, and so many more itching to know his identity.

As much as she wanted that information herself, she was glad his face was hidden in shadow from every camera angle. She didn't want his privacy invaded by hordes of her craziest fans.

She sighed and headed to the bathroom to shower and make herself at least a bit presentable for the cameras that were likely to appear in the most unexpected of places.

~☆~

She would say that when it came to her performance in her line of work so far, it was beyond satisfactory. One might even go on to say she was the peak of professionalism.

She loved her fans; interacting with them during concerts, as well as meeting them in her day-to-day life always made her feel better, but she remained detached to a certain extent to maintain a healthy relationship with her fans.

Fans. She had those now. The very idea was improbable to her. She still couldn't believe all of her dreams had come true. The bright and glittering sheen of success and fame had not even dimmed a bit, and she felt like she had almost everything she could possibly want in life. Until, she saw him.

She didn't believe in love at first sight—but a tangible connection had been instantly formed when their eyes had locked. She felt sparks shoot through her very soul, the golden thread between them snapping taught, dragging her towards him like a moth to a flame. Maybe that was why she did what she did.

She had interacted with so many crowds in so many different cities; seen so many handsome guys–who were most definitely into her by where their lines of sight were—but she had never once willingly touched a fan at a show. Not like she had with him.

She was mad at herself for letting it get so far, as she always prided herself for her unwavering rules and restraint. Professionalism.

He was just… different.

Even a month later, she couldn't stop thinking about the mystery man at the concert—brown eyes, big and wide, staring into hers with awe, messy hair slicked back and tucked behind his ears, the perfectly pressed shirt that she took pride in rumpling and the most kissable lips known to man.

It was unfair, really, how gorgeous he was.

He didn't even know the lyrics to any of her songs, but instead of finding it bothersome, she had found it oddly indearing.

He plagued her waking hours, as well as the ones she was asleep for. Many a dream, not just the one from that morning, consisted of him; frequently enough that it made her question her sanity on more than one occasion.

The elevator ride down from her hotel was quiet, her manager staying silent as they descended the levels.

She was glad—she had hardly gotten a wink of sleep the night before, due to being up half the night writing a song she had been working on for a few days now, ever since she was told to write about ‘happier’ things.

She had gotten the instrumentals down, but she couldn't figure out the lyrics. It was downright impossible.

This frustration kept her up into the early hours of the morning—she kept trying different approaches, but none of them worked. This was partly to blame for her less-than-stellar mood today.

They stepped out into the foyer, only to be met with the sight of paparazzi outside the hotel entrance door. She outwardly cringed. The paparazzi were her least favourite bit about this lifestyle. She knew she would never get used to them, no matter how long her stardom lasted.

She put on a brave face, a smile too wide for her at such a young hour of the morning, especially with her mood. See? Professionalism.

The glass doors were propped open for her as she walked through, and she gave the men holding them a nod and a thank you. She stuck close to her manager as they headed for the tinted SUV that would take her to the airport.

Camera shutters went wild as she waved and flashed them a bright grin. Questions were thrown at her from the crowd, although she didn't answer any. The curb neared as the car door was opened for her.

At that moment, she felt a prickle on the side of her neck, coupled with the profound urge to turn and look to her left. She swivelled as she reached her destination, scanning the street for something. Something important.

There, walking down the main road, satchel slung across his body, coffee in one hand, was the man of her dreams. Literally. His hair was tucked behind his ears and he wore a simple button up and dress pants, but a pair of worn converse sat on his feet; not matching with the rest of his business attire whatsoever.

Her dreams had not done him justice—he looked even better than she remembered.

Her eyes widened comically at the utterly creepy coincidence. She squeezed them shut before quickly reopening them, assuming she had finally gone insane, and that he was a mere figment of her imagination.

When she looked again, though, he was still exactly where he was a moment ago.

She was completely frozen, mouth falling open in surprise, and unhearing of the loud shouts of the paparazzi right in front of her. He glanced up from the ground at the disruption in the otherwise quiet early-morning street and her heart leapt clean out of her chest.

Those sweet eyes flicked from the mass of cameras, to the car, to her. His sure steps faltered at the clashing of their gazes, wide eyes stared back into her own shocked ones.

He was still a few yards away, but she could make out his rapidly rising chest, and his hand as it tightened on the flimsy coffee cup.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out, all of her words stayed firmly lodged at the back of her throat. She stumbled forward a few steps, intending to just go over to him, but the swarm around her had other ideas.

They moved in tighter, and her manager swiftly grabbed her forearm, guiding her into the back seat of the black car before she was squished between the hordes of paparazzi and their oversized cameras.

She protested, her view of him was obscured, but she was unceremoniously shoved into the SUV nonetheless, her objection unheard in the fray.

The door was shut in her face when she made to get back out, and soon enough, her manager joined her in the back, buckling his seatbelt as they pulled away from the hotel.

She tried to get another glimpse, but all was obscured by the paparazzi. Another of many reasons for her to hate their guts, she supposed.

Her stomach sank in disappointment. Her second chance, ripped out of her grasp—there would never be another opportunity to see him again.

It was foolish to even think such a thing. Twice was a stretch, but three times? She knew that was almost mathematically impossible. Probability was a bitch.

She sighed, and sunk further into her plush seat, staring glumly out the window at the passing street.

~☆~

When she arrived home, her first thought was to write. Music and lyrics were swirling in her head and she needed to write it down before they disappeared completely.

She closed the front door quickly, kicking off her shoes haphazardly, and raced to her studio. She plopped herself down, picked up her guitar, and sang.

The words flowed immediately like never before, and she grinned to herself as she finished the song that had been plaguing her all day and night. It was exactly as she imagined, and exactly what she felt in those moments.

Next to that car, surrounded by paparazzi, and on stage, surrounded by her fans. Those moments where all she could focus on was him. All other distractions, other thoughts, other feelings faded into static—background noise—when they had locked eyes.

It was perfectly pathetic of her to write such a sappy song about a man she had never properly met, but pathetic seemed to be her brand these last few weeks— and the song was good, there was no denying that.

She hit record on her phone, intending to send the audio clip to her producer for approval. She knew the song would go across well with her team. From when she had first sung it, it felt right. Like it had been bubbling under the surface for some time now, waiting patiently to be let out.

“Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?"

'Cross the room your silhouette

Starts to make its way to me…”

~☆~

She finished a song, and cheers rippled toward her from every angle, surrounding the stage. She tipped her head back, basking in the warmth flooding her body as she beamed in exhilaration. This feeling. This was why she did what she did.

To know that her and hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of people were all connected by one thing. Music. Her music, that she had written about her own life, hoping that others could relate, too.

Hoping others would enjoy listening to it as much as she enjoyed writing it. She was incredibly blessed to have this job, and she couldn’t think of something better, more fulfilling, than this.

The crowd was especially loud at this point, because they knew what was next. She would play a song that wasn’t on the setlist��one of hers, or sometimes, a song from another popular artist. Her fans dubbed them as ‘surprise songs’, and it had become somewhat of a novelty.

She waited for them to quiet down a bit, before she spoke. “So… I have something a little different for you tonight.”

The room went wild. She laughed, before waiting once more to speak. “It’s an unreleased song that I wrote a few days ago.” Screams of excitement bounced from floor to ceiling.

“And, if you guys like it enough, I might just release it as a single, how does that sound?” She grinned cheekily at the deafening cheers. “So… how about I sing it for you?”

She slung her guitar strap over her shoulder, from where a stage hand had conveniently placed it, and stepped up to the mic, ready and waiting to start.

“Now, I wrote this song about a very special someone.” Again, the crowd whooped, clearly ecstatic at the mere thought of romance.

“And I hope they hear this song, and-” She strummed the first chord. “Well- understand how I feel.”

The venue went berserk, and she smiled out at them, amused. And then, she sang.

“There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place...”

The music flowed over her, before seeping into her very bones, filling her with reverence. With peace.

“Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy

Vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you…”

Her eyes stayed closed throughout the whole song, fingers finding the strings with practised ease. In the inside of her eyelids, she saw an imprint of him.

That man, the one that consumed her dreams, the one who hijacked her songs. The one with the soft, kind eyes—that really looked at her, into her, like he saw all of her fears, aspirations, and every waking thought.

Those two encounters, as brief as they were, somehow etched themselves right into her brain. As pathetic as it sounded, she couldn’t think of anything else, and it was eating her from the inside out.

She begged to whatever deities existed to put them back into each other's path once again, no matter how improbable that was.

“Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you.”

The last chord faded, and she broke from her reverie, shaking herself out of her stupor. Was she really begging to meet that guy again? That was seriously next level. She didn't know his name, had never even said a proper word to him, and she was fawning like a schoolgirl.

She stifled a groan. She had definitely lost the plot.

She plastered a smile back on her face, and continued her show without a hitch, pointedly choosing to not think about the mystery man, and instead focus on her music.

It was more important. Always and forever. She couldn’t afford to pine over a man she had only seen twice. No. Her music was the most significant factor in her life, not silly things like love and romance. She had tried that, and it never ended well.

Her most recent ex was a perfect example of why relationships aren’t worth it. She threw away three years of her life to that lying, cheating scumbag.

For now, she was sticking to perfecting her craft, and nothing would distract her from that. She would just have to force herself to forget about the mystery man. Erase him from her brain.

Pretend he never existed in the first place. It's not like she would ever see him again, anyways, no matter what higher beings she tried to appease.

~☆~

By the time she returned to her hotel, ‘Enchanted’ was available for streaming as her newest single. So far, it was a hit, but there was an overwhelming amount of speculation about who the song was about. She was, honestly, wondering the same thing.

She had told herself that she would completely forget about him, but he was still there, in the very back of her mind, intruding in her thoughts. She couldn’t make him leave, no matter what she tried.

She fell onto the bed, took one of the crisp, white hotel pillows, and pressed it into her face, before letting out a shrill scream.

Yeah, she was most definitely going insane.

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appriciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @reidmania @navs-bhat @iheartshopping @dreamsarebig <3 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[theloneotaku158]

As of Batman: The Brave and the Bold #12, local precious-gremlin-who-I-would-die-for, Maps Mizoguchi, is now officially(?) the sixth Robin. Or at the very least, she's now "in" on The Secret™.

If this isn’t a set up for her taking up the Robin mantle officially then I genuinely don’t know what is.

As one of the twelve Gotham Academy enjoyers in existence, I am having the extremely normal reaction of "FUCKING FINALLY! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO--!"

In all honesty, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen this coming from miles away. Like, Maps has appeared in a number of seemingly random cameo roles recently, including Batgirls (2021), and even technically as Robin in the backup issues of Batman (2016) #119-121, and in a short story in Batman Black & White. And most of those got collected in a standalone titled "Maps of Mystery", which specifically gathered all her appearances as Robin (and the Gotham Academy Belle Reve story).

And then, of course, her recent time-travelling Future-Trunks-esque appearance in Birds of Prey (2023), as the tech-based Meridian, from a potential future timeline where she apparently makes it as a superhero using gadgets she apparently designed, proving that she's hero material.

That's not something you do for a character for no reason. That's the sort of thing you do when you want to keep a character in the conscience of your readers for whatever reason, because you have bigger plans for them.

Also interesting to consider that, in the "Mother's Day" story where this took place, Alfred is standing right there and not lying down six feet under wood, dirt and a stone slab, and that Bruce is in the old Batcave under the manor so he still has Money™. So we must assume this was some nebulous time in the past (after GA: Second Semester(?), but before City of Bane)... which I won't bother to analyse the exact timeframe of because DC doesn't care about the post-Flashpoint / New 52 / Rebirth / Prime Earth / idfk / Dawn of DC timeline, so neither should I.

But I think it's really funny that this presumably means Maps has known The Secret™ for a long time relative to present-day comics, but always acted like she didn't.

But if all her appearances are in chronological order, that means Bruce is only the fourth Bat whose identity she discovered.

Like, she discovered Cass' identity almost by accident on a trip to the zoo, Damian showed off his grapple gun and gave her an actual Batarang during the three hours he was enrolled in the school (as if she wouldn't immediately put two-and-two together even back then), and she even found out Terry fucking McGuinness would become Batman in a future via a time-travelling grandfather clock.

No I did not make that last part up. Read Gotham Academy istg.

Did Cass know that Maps had been acting as a Robin when she met her, both at the zoo in Batgirls and her future version in Birds of Prey?

Does Damian know the one (1) friend(?) he made in Gotham Academy is potentially in the running for his job?

Is Bruce himself aware that she knows as much about their identities as she currently does?

How is DC going to retcon this so it all makes sense in the barely-functioning canon of the modern DC universe?

I'm digressing. Where was I going with this?

Point is, she's destined to become a Robin, and I'm glad DC finally pulled their fingers out their asses and capitalised on that destiny.

Let's just hope it doesn't take another year for them to follow up on this plotline again.

Bonus: Jason Todd, after learning of Bruce taking yet another happy kid under his wing as yet another Robin, giving her some advice:

[findafight]

Okay I kept thinking about this post and Steve being a BNF of Corroded Coffin message board of the internet of yore.

Alright so way back in the nineties Suzie hooks everyone up with the internet, yes? Yes. Eddie and Steve got together in '92 after some mutual pining and a few disastrous relationships that couldn't handle 1) Steve and Robin's general QPR clinginess 2) Eddie's intensity 3) the secrecy required if having multiple years of monster fighting and subsequent NDAs and the trauma associated therein. They're older and more settled and ready for an Adult Relationship.

Corroded Coffin is gaining traction and doing really well and the internet is still a brave new frontier, so Steve says to Eddie something like "I'm going to see if there's some message boards about you 🥰" and find them he sure does. So he makes accounts and posts under the username EddiesOnlyGroupie because he's hilarious and also the mods banned him from using EddieMunsonsHusband (he figured it was fine on the internet because nobody actually knew who he was but APPARENTLY NOT homophobia lives on in the digital age). He gets pretty well known in the Corroded Coffin fandom, most assuming he's a woman because he will go off on how hot Eddie looked at a gig. Like. Saying unhinged internet shit because 1) true and 2) he and Eddie think it's so funny. Everyone kinda believes the groupie thing too because of all the performance pics he's able to post and how he'll sometimes offer tidbits if knowledge about the band.

When they transition from chatrooms to livejournal etc he follows, with the same username. He's kind of a legend by the mid aughts. EOG is the acronym people use when discussing theories on his identity, and he's like "guys I'm literally his only groupie it's self explanatory. Guys why don't you believe me Eddie hasn't slept with anyone but me since 1992. We're basically married". He goes "it's not a mystery we literally are in love and Jeff and I go to Cubs games and cry when they inevitably lose together. Gareth is Godfather to my cats" (Eddie is still offended that he was not named Sassafras and Moonshine's godfather when Steve and Robin adopted them in '89). No one believes him.

Possibly because he still thirsts after Eddie and whenever someone posts a new Eddie pic those in the know wait for him to pop up with comments like "I want to bite his neck omg" "he has no ass but nobody is perfect I'll settle between his thighs anyway" and "literally a crime I am not married to him right now what the fuck" As twitter grows he swoops in to grab his handle, and follows a bunch of other CC fan accounts (some of them old friends, some of them new to the scene)(EOG 100% has his own fanlore page, which also has speculation on who he is and how he gets all the bts pics. It also doesn't believe when he says what it says on the tin. He's Eddie's only groupie.)

tumblr and tiktok come round and Steve is like. Openly horny on main. He's seen some shit go down on the internet but he's still commenting on Eddie fan edits that are title shit like "why am I attracted to this middle-aged white man" and "retro cc fancam" with things like "I'd let him lick the inside of my ear and only bring it up to tease him on special occasions" "his FINGERS" "back in '89 Jeff and Howie and Claire staged a mutany over this song because they were 'sick of Eddie only writing about biting bats' lmao" and "Jeff is my favourite member of cc"(just to stir the pot)

Eddie comes out in the 2010's and he's like "yeah I've been in a long term relationship with someone who is usually mostly a man kinda (gender is fucky) for the past twenty years, lol. His name's Steve. I love him a lot even if he mocks me online." and of course EOG comments "the mods of that old message board should have let me keep my original handle of EddieMunsonsHusband. When're you gonna make it reality, Munson? smh" and everyone is like Huh?? EOG is a MAN? And he's like yeah? Sometimes?? Not always?

(He 100% thinks this is him telling people he's Eddie's Steve. They don't get the message)

Anyways life goes on Steve continues to thirst under pictures of Eddie, he has his pronouns and name in his bio on twitter (Steve, he/him, she/her, Eddie Munson's first and only groupie 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ ) and continues to post behind the scenes photos that shockingly few people question (she always says "because I'm his groupie" though. He and Eddie think this is VERY funny and also true. Robin groans. They've been making the same joke for two decades.) and people believe it because Eddie has interacted EOG sometimes, liking photos or videos, commenting sometimes. (Steve has a more professional realname account that he rarely uses but Eddie usually tags Steve there)

And THEN Internet user EddiesOnlyGroupie says he's taking a few weeks off for her honeymoon because "I'm finally marrying the man of my dreams!" And people are happy for him but also bummed because Eddie is also taking a two week hiatus but EOG promises wedding and honeymoon photos. (Face reveal! Sorta!)((he doesn't get why people are excited because he's pretty sure he's been in a lot of Eddie's recent pictures, but whatever)

Imagine the Internet's surprise when Eddie Munson posts a collection of pictures spanning '86 to his 2016 wedding of him and Steve, including one of Steve looking seriously at an old desktop computer, captioned "Steve starting his internet career" and tags EOG.

Steve qrt with "I told yall. I'm his only groupie, and they should've let me keep EddieMunsonsHusband even if they WERE homophobic. Because now it's TRUE"

Niche internet community drama chaos ensues.

[endless-ineffabilities]

your heart's serrated edges are much like mine own (18+)

dark!Aemond Targaryen x dark!fem!reader

synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen and his Lady wife may just be the biggest assets of the Greens. Two ruthless, determined and cunning lovers, who are crazy about each other and will stop at nothing to get what they want.

themes/warnings: violence, language, torture, f*cking, choking, it's a slightly dark romance so be warned! - strictly 18+!!!!

recommended listening: angel - massive attack // mad - echos // bottom of the deep blue sea - MISSIO // daydream in blue - I Monster

word count: 2k ▪︎ masterlist

a/n: this delicious little thing had been sitting in my drafts for far too long, so I just had the sudden urge to feed into my Aemond fantasies and finish it! Enjoy.

Aemond twists the knife in further, deeper, causing the spy's eyes to roll back in his skull.

This imbecile, this apparent whisperer, had been caught attempting to lace Queen Alicent's wine with poison. Luckily, you had been there to catch him in the act. You were quick to incapacitate the man with a blow to the head, rendering him unconscious. You never had much patience for the White Worm's lackeys, and this distaste heightened significantly after the atrocities committed by Blood and Cheese.

Aemond found you, sitting prettily in your chambers, a picture of perfect calm. As if you did not have a man gagged and unconscious by the hearth.

"What is this, my darling?" He crooned. "Having a bit of fun?"

"You will find that this is justified, my love. And you will want to take this cunt's head off yourself."

"Is that so?" He questioned, amused at his Lady wife's brazenness.

"Mhmm," you purred, pulling him closer by the lapels of his leather tunic, "I missed you today."

"Council business," His eyes rake over your figure - the only prize that makes everything worth it. "I missed you as well, as always. Come here." He jutted his chin out to you once, beckoning.

His hands wound tightly around your hips, as he kissed you. His tongue found yours, melding against each other. The kiss grew rough, teeth nearly grinding against teeth. He pushed you back onto the table, making you hold onto it with palms outstretched, as he assaulted your neck with peppered bites.

The moment was divine, up until the man regained consciousness, squealing like a wild boar upon taking in his surroundings.

"Fuck's sake," Aemond cursed at the intrusion, still keeping hands on you.

"Well, my love?" You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and dragged a finger along his sharp cheekbone, your query hanging in the air. Will you feed into your darkness with me?

"Hmm," he smirked slightly, lips pursed, "shall we amuse ourselves then, ñuha ābrar?"

My life. It tugged at your very soul when he called you that.

"Let us go play, dear husband."

Which brings us here in this damp cell, poorly lit by a few torches, with Aemond's precious knife buried deep in the thigh of the man who calls himself Bane.

Bane's skin has become so pallid and colourless. Having lost a significant amount of blood, it is only a matter of time before he fully loses consciousness. Or he might die. What difference does it make? Another used-up pawn in this fucked up war.

"Tell us what you know," Aemond growls, his voice dripping with malice, as he crouches in front of the snivelling man, "and we might just let you live." A mere embellishment, you know that Aemond would never let him live either way.

You stand behind Aemond, your left hand stained with Bane's blood. You are responsible for the first incision done on his skin, and that had been many moments ago.

Now, the man is but a husk of what he used to be, but much to your annoyance, he remains defiant, haughtily turning his cheek to you and Aemond when bombarded with questions.

Evidently, he knows more than what he is letting on. He could reveal the identities of the rest of White Worm's spies, the whole lot of them having infiltrated the castle under the guise of regular employment.

You did not know who to trust. Not truly. Except for your husband, and him alone.

"Fuck you." The man spits, blood spilling from his lips. "Fuck all of you. The Blacks are coming for all of you. All of your women and your children. Especially that traitorous cunt of a false King." He should have stopped there, but he makes a grevious error and continues, glaring right at you, "Even you, whore. You think your prince can save you? No. No. You're going to-"

Aemond's fist clashes once again with the remnants of Bane's teeth. Blood splatters on his beautiful, taut face.

The one-eyed prince, your one-eyed prince, with crimson smeared across his enraged face, and his sapphire eye exposed, would be able to strike fear in anyone's heart.

But not yours. The sight of him, unhinged, exhilirates you.

He growls, "You will never speak to my lady again. You will never even so much as glance at her, because I will gouge your eyes out. Then, I will rip you apart, and send the pieces of your mangled corpse to those Blacks whom you are so blindly loyal to."

"It seems that we have no further use for this worm, my love." You crouch beside him, gazing at him in admiration and reaching forward to push a stray strand of silver hair away from his face.

Bane freezes, realizing that he may just be speaking his final words, "I have heard talk about the pair of you... how... how absolutely fucking besotted you are with one another. And now I see why. You both are insane!"

"Oh?" You smile "If loving my Aemond renders me insane then so be it, little worm."

"Hmm," Aemond stands and pulls you with him. He then wastes no time in capturing your lips, snaking his tongue inside, wanting more. Always more of you.

You moan against him, feeling pumped with adrenaline. Reaching down to his breeches, you quickly find out that your dear husband has grown quite hard.

He bites your lip when you squeeze his length, making you groan against his mouth.

"My beautiful, beautiful, wife." He pulls back to look at you, his sapphire eye glinting in the firelight.

"Let me go!!" Bane screams again, unable to stomach what he sees, "Fucking let me go, you cunts!"

Bane continues squirming, his wrists twisting against his metal shackles. Right outside, Ser Criston Cole stands guard, although the need has never arisen before. Aemond and Lady Y/n always knew how to handle themselves. They were skilled in keeping their prey subdued.

Not many knew of the true extent of yours and Aemond's shared madness. The methods you both employ could rival that of Maegor the Cruel.

But the Blacks have forced your hand. At every turn, they have picked and plucked off important people in your lives. Without any shred of clemency.

Sure, it is a war. And it is only fair that you and Aemond would seek to retaliate.

Only you and Aemond could do things so methodical, and so wicked. Aegon does not have the stomach to do all that is necessary, even with him being King.

"Let me go, and I won't tell anyone what happened here." Bane grows desperate. "I... I swear on the Seven!"

Aemond makes a clicking sound of disapproval with his tongue, as if scolding a child. "But as it stands, Bane, we have no reason to trust you."

When Aemond carves Bane's eyes out, he screams his throat bloody, the grating sound echoing mercilessly in the darkness of night.

Until all is quiet, save for the sound of hungry lips devouring each other. Until the final blade has been pushed into Bane's heart, and you and Aemond - two lovers soaked in blood - practically attempt to carve a piece out of each other, with groping hands, biting kisses, his manhood pressed against your covered core.

Tempting, torturing, trembling.

"I need you," he whispers. "I need you now. And forever."

"Then have me."

You blindly find your way through your chambers, only focused on each other. Hurriedly taking off every piece of clothing, every damned hindrance, until skin only meets skin.

Finally, you are both uncovered. You take a few steps back until your ass meets the cold surface of the wooden desk, upon which you sit on the edge haphazardly.

Leaning back, and spreading your legs, every inch of you is bared for Aemond. The lips of your cunt drip with liquid pleasure, aching for only what he can give you.

"Mm." A hundred years could pass of just this, a thousand, forever, and Aemond would never tire of the sight in front of him. His lady, his love, offering herself up to him for the taking.

He takes his time in walking towards you, savouring the sight, as you do him. Your eyes are near pitch-black with desire as you drink him in, the sharp planes of his figure, his endless silver hair, his sapphire eye.

And his long, girthy cock glistening translucent-white at the end. You bite your lip, and whine, "Hurry now, Aemond."

He laughs deeply as he finally reaches you. He licks a stripe on your chest and your collarbones, cleaning off dried streaks of blood. When he kisses you, his tongue tastes of rust. Of the man whose life you just ended.

"Your skin tastes divine," he purrs, as his cock grazes the edges of your folds. He grips your back with one hand, urging you closer, steadying you, and his nails dig into your flesh in their intensity.

"Do not torture me, husband." You plea, for fear that you might explode, and you just might push him down to the floor and ride him until dawn.

He laughs again, almost tauntingly, "Why, dear wife, what is it that you want?" He whispers close to your ear, "Do you wish for me to fuck you? Do you want my cock inside you, my lady?"

You grip his hips and urge him forward until his cock breaches your entrance, only just.

"What the fuck do you think I want?" you growl at your husband. "Fuck me."

"As my lady commands." And with that, and no other word of warning, he enters you to the hilt, the sting of his size only a slight tinge compared to the maddening pleasure.

"Is this what you want?" His voice is deeper now, thick with need. He leans over you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, his pelvis moving relentlessly. His thrusts quickly grew sloppy and unhinged. His palms brace themselves on your back, as he lowers and takes a nipple between his teeth.

"Agh!" You squeal, and he sucks your breast soothingly. "Don't stop."

He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in. He slows the assault of his length inside your increasingly sore pussy. But the thrusts remain deep, his balls slapping wet against your ass each time.

"Can I... shall I...?" He pants, knowing you will understand.

You stare at your lover. Your dark, breathtaking other half. You respond, without a doubt, excitement taking a hold of you. "Yes. Do it, my love."

He seems a tad apprehensive, but equally wanting, so you guide his hand to your neck, gingerly splaying his fingers on your skin.

"Do it," you repeat.

"I love you," he swears, his fingers beginning to tighten, his cock burying deep inside your dripping cunt again and again. "I love you forever."

You feel the familiar pressure on your windpipe. Bearable, with only the mildest hint of discomfort. Aemond would never dare hurt you badly. This serves to spur you on even more, and you grip his forearm.

You tighten your legs around his torso, and use your heels to help propel him forward. Deeper, if that were even possible.

"Harder," you say. "Fuck me, Aemond."

He moans, his lips pulling back from his teeth, eyes glazed over as he looks down upon his love. His hand clenches your neck even tighter, and you welcome it, feeling lightheaded.

"I love you," you gasp with utmost sincerity.

Two deranged lovers, glistening with sweat and cum. Deep maroon patches of dried blood from an hour before, melting on their skin. Writhing, squirming, whimpering against each other as moonlight filters through the sheer forest green curtains.

With strangled cries, they spasm into each other near simultaneously. Prince Aemond Targaryen collapses on top of his wife in bliss. He looks up at her and finds her in the same state.

He rights himself, reaching to the faint impressions of his fingers on her neck. "Are you alright, my love?"

"Am I alright?" She grins, then plants a soft kiss on his lips. "Shall we go again?"

[lizzy06]

Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfic Recs!!(AO3) Pt.2

Main Masterlist

[For part 1 -> Pt.1]

Geto Suguru x Leiri Shoko

Stay by kiwi_on73 (assassin suguru, unplanned pregnancy, friends with benefits, angst, satoru x utahime on side ) Shoko does not knw suguru is is an assassin but get pregnant accidentally...will that make him stay?[COMPLETED] 'tis the damn season by just_trying_my_best_everyday (oneshot, Angst, Friends, Childhood sweethearts) Shoko goes back home for the summer. [COMPLETED] Itadori Yuji x Reader

Cupid by melmeal(oneshot,slice of life, fluff, college au, love confessions) you are cupid, an online love advisor and no one else knows but then something happens and ur identity is reveled to itadori. [COMPLETED]

Fushiguro Toji x Reader

Photograph by Daisynik(Angst, Hurt/comfort, Highschool)you are paired with the scary boy Toji for the group project and then u meet him years later. [COMPLETED] The Shadow by kakashi_mole (Reader is toji's wife(Megs mom )Grief/Mourning, Marriage, pregnancy) Toji returns his wife's ashes to the sea. [COMPLETED] Friday Night by baowow (Fluff, Humour)- You’re just trying to do your job until a DILF and his cute son enters your workplace fifteen minutes before close. [COMPLETED] Since way back by mmothhmann (ex's, reader has a stalker, parent-teacher, elementary school au, slight gojo x reader) You meet your ex boyfriend after 10 years in a parent teacher conference of his kid and apparently....He doesn't remember you [ONGOING] Ecstasy by bambiteareyes (unplanned pregnancy, angst, gojo x reader on side) You are pregnant with toji's first child even though you barely know each other....before that u were friend with benefit with satoru [ONGOING]

Todo Aoi x Reader

I am your biggest fan by nariveri (oneshot, Idiots in love, Rival relationship, Enemies to lovers, fluff and crack, humour) Takada-chan’s super fans go from enemies to lovers. Who could’ve seen it coming? [COMPLETED] The verdict is not subject to appeal by nezokawakun (soulmate au, comedy) Soulmate AU, where the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate. [COMPLETED] Idol fan wars by daisynik(Fake dating, enemies to lovers, fluff/ humour) You are both #1 fans of Takada-chan so when she starts giving you both special treatment cuz she think u are a couple...u continue the ruse and eventually... it turns to more than what both of u expected. [COMPLETED] Just for the Summer by GoldExperience86 (oneshot, smut, light angst)When you propose a summer fling with Todo, you entrust him not to get attached. But whose heart will be broken when the summer ends? [COMPLETED] Lucky by LazyPerfectionalist (oneshot, smut, fluff, crack)-You meet someone desperate to win a competition. [COMPLETED] Thriller Night by Vanya_Instance (oneshot, one bed trope, fluff,humour) After completing a mission away from kyoto, you and Todo look for rentals to stay the night but they only have a room left![COMPLETED] Making Me sweat by daisynik (oneshot, smut) With your new year resolution to be fit, you go to your apartments fitness center where you meet your loud mouth neighbor ...he offers you a certain kind of workout.. and after some thought u take him up for it. [COMPLETED]

Zenin Naoya x Reader

First, it hurts- by SlightlyCareless (Arranged Marriage, Angst, Fluff and angst) You were married off to Naoya...Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband. Will this ever change? [ONGOING]

Choso x Reader

Thinner than blood by Eevee_300(strangers to lovers, Marriage of convenience) You, the spare of the gojo family is forced to marry anybody from the kamo clan and u pick the 'stain of the kamo clan'.[ONGOING]

Kamo Noritoshi x Mai

Pent up by VFY23 (kinda friends with benefits) Kamo is pent up, mai notices and they fuck each other. [COMPLETED]

[flamingpudding]

That's our baby hero

Protective Amity Park Au but maybe not like you would think?

Danny's identity wasn't as hidden as Sam, Tucker, Jazz and him thought. His identity was an open secret, in fact his whole town knew that Danny was their hero Phantom, well everyone but his oblivious parents but they were a case of their own. The thing was his entire town knew about his oh so big secret identity and that he was the one trying to save them from ghosts 90% of the time as well as from his own parents crazy inventions at times.

Dash shoving him into lockers like a bully? Danny didn't look good and Dash tried in crude ways to give him reasons to skip classes to rest. It also later was a good move to hide him from snoopy government agents also known as the Guys in White or GIW for short. Really his bullying played perfectly into him finding creative ways to get Danny to skip classes for rest.

Valerie hunting him and other ghosts? Well she was hunting him in the very beginning, but then it became an attempt to make him stop fighting the ghosts on their behalf but in the end it turned into her trying her best to be the support to him that Sam and Tucker couldn't be in a fight. Let alone taking 'night shifts' from him so Danny could get at least a good nights rest every now and then.

Sam's parents the Mansons? Sure they didn't like him that much from the start anyway but most of their anger later stemmed from the danger their daughter was willingly get into to help their reckless teenhero that shouldn't be a hero at his age anyway. Let alone shoulder the responsible for their entire town at the age of 14.

Tuckers parents? They were glad any time Danny stayed over with their son, even attempting to subtitle convince the boys to have more sleepovers at their home. Surely being a hero with ghost powers and living in a house of ghost hunting parents wasn't easy on Danny. They were glad that they could give him some peace at their home. They willingly ignored it when Danny showed up late night in Tuckers room, getting patched up by their son.

The entire town apparently hating him with all these negative newspapers and comments? All fake in a desperate attempt to get the 14 years old teenager with a bad sleeping schedule and powers to stop risking his damned life, half-life. Surely if they appeared not thankful the kid would get the hint and stop playing hero. Like seriously he was a kid! Who's bright idea was it to let a kid fight these dangerous appearing ghosts?! Oh right the poor kids parents were incompetent when it came to ghost hunting and it wasn't like they could just up and do it without destroying the kids confidence. Plus the GIW were no help either.

Vlad becoming Mayor was not exactly their plan but they thought maybe they could use that as some help to convince Danny more that he didn't need to play hero for them just because he got powers now. That didn't turn out like they hoped and THAT plan was dismissed quickly. Especially when the GIW showed up. They learned their lesson sort of quickly after that, at least when it came to people from out of Amity did not mean well.

Lancer, at first when Danny first showed up as Phantom, had attempted to get into contact with the Justice League several times, so that Danny would actually get the professional help he needed and get some sleep at night as well as the time he needed for his schooling so that heroing wouldn't be the only career path he would be forced into. The additional point of getting the kid training too for his powers was also very tempting, there are only so many chemical breakers they could allow the him to break before they HAD to sort of ban him from touching them again.

But when the GIW appeared in their town they stopped trying to reach the Justice League. Suspecting that that was the answer they sent in regards to their SOS calls. Amity Parks protectiveness over their teenheroes that sacrificed to much skyrocketed. They started to sabotage the Agents subtitle. Always working within the limits of the orders and finding the loop holes.

"Oh but we did comply, not our fault that you guys tripped and let Phantom escape."

"Wupp, sorry I got that from the Fentons for self defence, but it looks like I need to work on my aim."

"I am so sorry, my car is stuck! See my tire is popped I can't get out of your vans way."

The fact that Amity Parks weather report was more a report on the ghosts, the Fenton parents and the GIW was all a tactic for them all to keep each other informed so they could execute any step to ensure their -by now- towns sweethearts safety. Even if they still tried to turn the poor kid away from being a hero with all the unnecessary mean comments and articles.

So when one day a hero from the Justice League showed up it was predictable that they all were suspicious of it. Even more so when that hero came with a bunch of teenage heroes. Apparently they were here to investigate a bunch of ignored calls one of the teenheroes found in their call logs. Some of the adults eyed Lancer who in turn was glaring at the heroes fessed up, he hadn't attempted to call them ever since they decided to sent the GIW into their town. Which apparently was more of a cover as these heroes showed an interest in the Fentons research of Ectoplasm pretty quickly.

Well now Batman and his flock of bats and birds were confronted with a very unhappy town that was apparently very protective of their hero and 'accidentally' continued to manage to block them from making contact with said teenhero. And who where these Guys in white suits that tried to suck it up to Batman? Better question why was the entire town suddenly hostile towards them when they started to look into the Fenton Family that had a connection to Lazarus Water?

Meanwhile Danny is confused by his towns newfound favouritism towards Batman and his entourage and how whenever he went to find out what was that about everyone seems to deflect. Even Sam, Tucker and Jazz were confused by what was going on!