#which means I need to paint things I have something to say about

[bisexual-borderline-disaster]

transcript

[A man faces the camera, which captures him from around his chest to the top of his head. Behind him is a wall with various paintings. He seems to be sitting down. On one side, there is the tiktok symbol with his username below it, @ mohanad.elshieky91]

I grew up in Libya, not to brag, in the city of Bengazi, which I’m sure you’ve only heard good things about. We are famous for our beautiful beaches and nothing else.

And I was driving my car years ago to meet a friend and by the time I got to my street corner where I lived, this woman comes out of nowhere and she does this [holds up his hand, palm out, symbolising ‘stop’] right in front of my car. And to be honest, I was intrigued, so I stopped.

But then that woman runs towards my car, opens the back door, and gets in, and I was like, I can’t think of one scenario where this is a good thing. But then the door next to me also opened and a guy comes in. He points a knife to my face and he says, “Drive now- please!”

I was like brother, at no point I feel like you needed to add the “please.” You know, I was never gonna be like [looks to the side and pretends to hold a steering wheel, as if he is a driver talking to a passenger] “Oh, are you forgetting something?” and he’s like, “please,” and I was like, “okay yeah, now I can drive you” [he flicks a hand to express how ridiculous the idea is and then faces the camera again].

So I started driving and in my head I was like oh, I got tricked, I’m being kidnapped right now, because that woman just stood in front of my car to distract me and this guy got in and they’re probably going to steal my car and do something to me. But then they were chatting and I can like, hear some of the stuff that was going on, the woman said that her phone died and she couldn’t call her husband to come pick her up, so that’s why she stopped me. And I was like, this part makes sense, but doesn’t explain the thing next to me.

And then the guy was like “Hey man, how was your night going,” and I was like, “I don’t know – I didn’t think we were doing this – my night is going great, hopefully not the last night.”

And then finally I got to the location he gave me and both of them left my car and went to a house and knocked on the house and man came out, I assumed that was the husband from the story, and I was like okay, but then the two guys started yelling at one another. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were just going at it. And I was just like, in the car watching them, and I know what you’re thinking, you’re like, ‘Mohanad, you could have just dri-ven [his voice wavers] away at this point,’ which is true, but more than anything, I love drama. I was like, I’m not gonna leave on a cliffhanger, you know, I need to see where this plot is going.

But then I was watching too close – close, and I was like, holding, like, like this on my steering wheel [he holds up one hand on top of the other, both open and face down, curved a little as if they are resting on top of a steering wheel] and I got too close and I honked by mistake.

And the husband saw me and he just runs back in, comes out, now he’s holding a gun and runs toward my car, and I was like, I don’t like this character development. And he starts yelling at me, and he’s like “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” and I was like, I mean, to be honest, questions I ask myself every morning – but also I didn’t know what to answer because I know – I don’t know who I am in this scenario, I’m also confused. And then he said, “Should I shoot you right now.” And I was like, “What?” and he was like, “Should I shoot you right now.”

And I was like, “When you say should, like, that’s a yes or no question, like, does it matter what I - answer?” and he was like, “What?” and I was like, “What are you saying, 'should I shoot you' – if I say no, wo-would you not do it, would- would my answer matter in this – case,” and he said [laughs a little], “Why are you making it weird?”

[He pauses for a moment to let this sink in]

And I was like, “I’m sorry that I’m making it weird, I’m just - scared,” and then he was like [flicks his hand] “Just go,” and I did not know you can survive death by being annoying, but I proven that you could.

And then the knife guy comes back into my car and he was like, “Just drive us home,” and I was like, who is ‘us,” I don’t even know your name – but I was like, you know what, I’ll just drive you where I got you from, to the streets, and forget that this night ever happened.

And he gets into my car and he was just like, “I was just trying to help, man,” and I was like, “I don’t think you’ve helped people before, because this is not how you do it. You could have just asked me, why would you put a knife to my face.” And I was like, there’s no way this night can get any worse, but then we got stopped at a checkpoint.

And back then in w– in the city, years ago, it was mostly controlled by these religious militias, extremist militias, they were, like, everywhere. And when I say extremist militias, I mean groups like ISIS. I’m not sure if you guys remember them, they kinda fell off, they used to be big on youtube, big posters. And they haven’t posted in a while. So I think about them sometimes, you know, I’m like, did they make it? You know, through the pandemic, you know, which I’m sure they did, those guys famously [he waves an open hand around his face, palm toward him, to indicate a mask] wore masks.

But then, you know, they searched our car up and down, and I said “our,” it’s my car, but – and they couldn’t find anything, I don’t know what they were looking for, and they were gonna let us go, but then one of them was like, “Hey, guys, before you go, I’m gonna ask you something,” and I was like, “sure.”

Then he said, “Who you guys support, us or them?”

And I- And I was like, okay, first of all, let’s acknowledge what a great question this is, you know, thank you so much for asking it, I love [his voice wavers] dialogue – but I didn’t know what to say, because I don’t know if you guys are “us” or “them,” you know, there are so many militias in the city and you guys all kinda dress the same, not to give you fashion advice but – you know, it’s kinda confusing, so I don’t know if you guys are “us” or “them,” and they were started – starting to yell at me, and they were like, “Who do you support?!” and I was so scared and I was like [presses two fingers to his forehead as if he has a headache] ah man, Jesus Christ, which obviously I did not say that out loud ‘cause that would have been so weird and awkward.

So instead, I went with another answer, and I said, “god. I…support god,” and they looked at each other [his eyes flick around as if he is looking at other people] and were like [he looks back toward the camera and shrugs] “honestly that’s pretty dope, you know – what a great answer, you can [he flicks his head sideways as if pointing someone that direction] go. That’s actually the whole brand here, so good job.”

And they let me go, and I was happy, but I drove the guy home and he turns out to be my neighbour, I love my community so much, and he was about to leave my car and he was like, “hey man, let’s hang out sometime” and I was like, “absolutely, you know, would love to do that, and you know – see you,” and…before he left, he said that I should keep the knife, and I was like, “why?” and he was like, “You never know when you need it man, this neighbourhood can be very sketchy,” and I was like, “oh, what – makes you say…that, like did something happen, tonight?”

And, um, I have not seen that guy since, and I don’t know what happened to him or whatever but, you know, uh, all I’m saying is, uh… life is a journey. [He smiles. The tiktok ends]

[voxslays]

FAMILY REUNION

Featuring >>> Lucifer x Reader; In which, an attempt to kill baby Charlie goes south. Resulting in a soporific curse placed upon the reader, who struggles to deal with the aftermath of its affects.

Part Five Part Seven

A/N: Last depressing chapter for Luci I promise!!! Trust, also smallllllll timeskip lol.

Things couldn’t have been better for Lucifer Morningstar.

In the past six months, not only had he come out of hiding, rekindled his relationship with his daughter, and shown both heaven and hell why he was called the prince of darkness (and king of hell), he had truly almost forgotten about the sorrows he had faced in the last few years. He was finally free from the depressing slump he had suffered through—until Charlie had moved one of your family portraits to the lobby of the hotel.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to him. The stress, the depression, you—it was all too much at once. Yet, Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to ask Charlie to put the painting back in the darkness. For all the pain it brings, it also brought Luci peace. The sight of your gorgeous smile and pretty eyes—or your outfit and jewelry. It was like he was reliving that day.

In the painting, Charlie was only about three or four. Yet, Lucifer still remembers how she calmly sat still next to you and Lucifer the entire time, it was strange. Charlie was wearing a cute little red sundress, which matched Lucifer’s crimson suit and the burgundy ribbon on your sunhat. You were wearing Ruby red shoes which matched Charlie’s mini Mary-Jane’s. Charlie looked so happy, completely oblivious to all the pain…oh Charlie.

Lucifer knew he needed to come clean and tell her the truth…but it was hard. "How do I tell her?" Lucifer sorrowfully ponders aloud. “Tell who what?” Charlie popped out from behind her dad, scaring him shitless. Luci jumps slightly, his hand flying to his chest as he turns to see his now twenty-three year old daughter. A small smile grows on a his face as he tries to hide his startled expression. "Char-Char…ducky, can you sit down for a minute?" He says, his tone soft but serious. “Sure dad.”

Lucifer motions for her to take a seat on the couch in the parlor before goofily sitting next to her, crossing his arms over his chest. He takes a deep breath before beginning. "I need to talk to you about something important.” Lucifer sighs, “Something I should have told you a long time ago." His expression turns serious, his brow furrowing slightly as he tries to find the right words to say. "Charlie, there's something I've been keeping from you…a truth that you deserve to know.” He pauses.

“It's about your mother."

“What about mom?” Charlie’s expression turns serious. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his golden-blonde hair before continuing. "Charlie, your mother…she didn’t randomly disappear one day…” Charlie sits there silent, a confused and dejected expression on her face. “What?” Luce hesitates for a moment, his heart aching at the thought of hurting his daughter. But he knows it's time for her to know the truth. "She didn't leave us, Charlie. She was cursed."

“Cursed? What do you mean dad?” Charlie’s golden eyes shine with unshed tears. Lucifer’s heart breaks (even more) at the sight of his daughter's tears, but he presses on, needing to get the whole truth out. "A sleeping curse. I tried everything to break it, to save her, but…"

“Where is she now? Is she still asleep-“ Charlie keeps asking question after question, trying to understand the very confusing situation her father hid from her. "She's…at the palace. In her private quarters.” Lucifer wipes his tears. “I couldn't bear to separate from her completely, but also…I was afraid to tell you." His voice cracks with emotion. Charlie pulls him into a tight hug. “It’s okay dad.”

Luci hugs his daughter back tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. "Charlie, you can see her but…she's not awake." He pulls back to look at his daughter's face. “I can?” He nods, wiping away his tears. "Yes. Yes, you can." Lucifer stands up, holding out his hand to his daughter as he creates one of his signature golden portals, and the two of them step into the atrium together.

The familiar scent of apples, flowers—and most importantly, roses—fills the air. There are petite golden butterflies fluttering from place to place, breathing life into the peristyle-like room. In the center, a golden fountain, surrounded by apple trees that grew golden apples reminiscent of the ones that grew in Eden. And all around are rose bushes. Red, pink, white, gold. The colors blend together as they surround the room.

Lucifer slowly walks to the glass casket in the center of the bright atrium, followed by Charlie. The casket is made of beautiful, clear glass, with rose vines wrapped around it. Inside, lies a beautiful figure with h/c hair, sleeping peacefully. Their features are soft, and it looks almost like they’re just napping. Lucifer turns to Charlie. "This is your mother…" You look almost exactly like Charlie remembers you. It’s almost as if within the seven years since your disappearance, no time had passed at all.

Charlie stares at your semi-lifeless body. She memorized your features, how your hair lays, the rosiness of your cheeks, how your chest rises and falls gently with each breath, but your eyes remain closed. “Oh mom…” Charlie gently mutters. Your hand gently rests on top of your stomach, your ring finger still adorned with the golden wedding ring Lucifer gave you all those years ago. She reaches out to touch the glass, her reflection showing in it.

Charlie takes one last look at you before turning back to her father, tears in her golden eyes, her red pupils looking straight into his heart and soul. “We have to find a way to wake her up.” Charlie says, gently wiping away her tears as she looks down at Lucifer. Sighing deeply, Luci runs a hand through his hair sadly, unshed tears glimmering in his aureate eyes. "I've tried everything, Charlie. Every spell, every potion, every deal…nothing worked.” Lucifer takes a deep breath before continuing. “The curse is too powerful.”

“There has to be something.” Lucifer looks at her, sadness clouding his golden eyes. Afterall, he does see you in her. Not by appearance—Charlie takes after him in that department—but by disposition. "Maybe…” Lucifer pauses, taking a shaky breath. “Maybe you'll find something I missed." He places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Maybe I will.”

[heartcircus]

I love Mapicc and Derap’s bickering and mutual disdain, but god I wish there was someone in Mapicc’s corner who could like. Help give Zam a bit of perspective on how Derap is bending the narrative and painting Mapicc in a negative light to push Zam into choosing him bc Zam has to be the one defending Mapicc in every conversation and the more they have the more it feels like Zam’s resolve is shifting. The fact that Derap is kind of unchallenged here is like. Miserable. I don’t hate Derap but I do want things to fall apart for him bc he is just making this so much worse and Zam needs to talk to someone else. I hope Pangi tells him Derap invited him. I hope Mapicc stalks one of their conversations and gets the chance to defend himself. Planet saying Mapicc was Zam’s bestie and Zam getting choked up and just repeating “yeah” was like. Such a good moment. Reminding Zam of what they were. Can we get another girltalk if we’re doing season 4 i think we should bring back girltalk (this probably will not help). Can someone defend my dog I don’t care if he’s in the wrong I just want someone to make it clear he’s not the only one in the wrong

yeah, i definitely agree, mapicc does need someone in his corner and it's unfortunate that there's really just . no one . i don't know whether or not it's intentional that derap is pushing for zam to choose him over mapicc, in my opinion it could go either way, but i don't think he's going to like the answer he'll inevitably end up getting (that it's mapicc. it's always mapicc.).

i'm also in the same boat as you towards atlas lmao i like them, i find them cute, but i definitely think they're due for some confrontation/contestation over how derap talks to zam. even aside from mapicc, he tells zam a bunch of half-truths despite constantly reiterating that he Never lies to zam. like, the whole 'pangi found zaun on his own' thing was so weird because i don't really think zam would've been all that mad if derap just told him he showed pangi the place ? it's just a bunch of little things like that which will eventually add up over time

i'm a big devotioner, i love those guys, and as much as i love seeing them at odds with one another this time it's just so painful. it's something about seeing them both Refuse to fight one another and making that rather clear but still being unable to work together. they're just stuck at this god-awful crossroads and i can't wait for their time to come back around, whatever that means, just as long as they're together again.

[tealeavesandtrash]

🎄 Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon: Part 9 - 4 Days Until Christmas 🎄

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 8 || Part 10 (coming 23rd Dec)

“How much food do you have for Christmas?” Sirius asks over breakfast. 

“Too much,” Lily says. “Enough to feed the street.”

“Okay but how much is too much?” 

“No such thing as too much!” James chimes in and Lily rolls her eyes. 

“The turkey is recommended twelve servings and we have more food than what will fit on the table.”

Sirius ponders a moment. “Okay, so hypothetically, if there were two last-minute guests, we would have enough? If one is Harry-size so that’s only half a portion.”

“Are you talking about Remus?” James asks. 

“I did not say that.”

James grins. “You are though, aren’t you? You want to spend Christmas with him!”

“I especially did not say that .”

“I thought they were spending Christmas with his parents?” Lily asks. 

“I mean, they were, but his mum’s come down with something so they can’t.”

Lily hums, “I mean I don’t see why not. We’ve got enough space for them.”

“Really?” Sirius asks, pointedly ignoring the way James is snickering at him because this doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah, you’d like to see Teddy on Christmas wouldn't you Harry?” Lily says, turning to Harry at the last part. Harry, too engaged in playing with his cereal to be paying attention, simply nods eagerly when he notices his mum has asked him a question. 

Since Lily isn’t at work at the moment, Harry doesn’t need to go to nursery which means no chance to catch Remus at drop off which means Sirius is sent into town to ask him about Christmas. 

“Why can’t you just message him?” Sirius whines as James practically kicks him out the front door. 

“Because this was your idea and that’s less romantic.”

“There’s nothing romantic about this situation! I am inviting him and his child round to his child’s best friend’s parent’s house because his holiday plans fell through!”

“Yeah but you want it to be romantic, don’t you.”

“I never said that .”

“You didn’t have to say it.”

Sirius just shoots him a glare and James’ grin softens. “It’s no bad thing if you do, Pads. He’s a decent bloke and you obviously care about him at least a little.”

“Well, even if I did it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t.”

“I think he does,” James says, suddenly very earnest. “I saw the way you two together at the fete, I’m not blind.”

Sirius lets James’ words play over in his mind as he makes his way to meet Remus. Because Sirius isn’t blind, he knows Remus is attractive - the way his lip quirks up and eyes sparkle when he laughs; or the way his brows furrow in concentration when he’s thinking or listening to Teddy explain something; or how the highlights in his messy curls catch in the light and he runs his hand through his hair. 

And okay, so maybe he does have a bit of a crush on Remus, but it’s nothing more than that. 

Remus looks up when Sirius enters the shop. He’s leaning on the counter, head resting on one hand and leaning over an open book. 

“Did you forget another present?” he asks, smirking as he raises his eyebrow. 

“Ha ha,” Sirius mutters as he sidles up to the counter. “Ye of little faith, Lupin.”

“Well, what can I help you with?”

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you,” Sirius counters. 

Remus holds his gaze, matching his smirk and waiting patiently for Sirius to speak. 

He swallows. “Whatcha reading?” He asks after the silence has stretched out. 

Remus flicks the book over the show the cover - a scenic painting of a forest waterfall against the backdrop of mountains, with the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ printed boldly across the top.

“Teddy's bedtime story is currently The Hobbit,” Remus explains.

“Kid’s got good taste.”

“I mean, he only picked it because our copy at home has a dragon on the cover.”

Sirius shrugs. “Valid reason, dragons are cool.”

Remus hums in agreement. He dogears the page and closes the book to give Sirius his full attention. “So,” he says 

“So,” Sirius repeats,  “Christmas.”

“Christmas?”

“Well, since you're not seeing your parents, you could spend it with us, if you wanted.”

Remus blinks at him, “I wouldn’t want to impose or anything.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. There’s more than enough space and food for both of you.”

Remus still looks a little hesitant, “I mean, if you want me there.”

“I want you there,” Sirius insists. “And so does James and Lily.”

A shy smile slowly breaks onto Remus’ face, one Sirius can’t help but mirror.

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 8 || Part 10 (coming 23rd Dec)

@annaliza999 @marigold-hills @veganbutterchicken (If you do/dont want to be tagged in the next parts lmk <3)

[weralika]

this broke me in half and I'm gonna say this

Kevin really tries to be kind sometimes, he sees that Neil and Andrew and other foxes deserve it, tho he doesn't know how to be kind.

he knows how to be helpful — it means to nag people into perfection, to make them become better versions of themselves, maybe Neil is the only one who sees it, because he knows his language — exy is life for him and an opportunity to become someone for others.

Neil appreciates his efforts, he literally devoted the majority of his nights to teaching Neil.

he's not kind in general, just because he doesn't now how to do those widely appreciated kind gestures, and when he tries — it's awkward for everyone in the room and he thinks even Wymack cringes inwardly in his study, as if he always knows that his son is stupid.

he tries to be better, once he gives Neil a little praise and Neil answers with "never do if again" and it makes Kevin sad I swear. he wants to be human, wants his friends to smile when he gives them a protein bar or makes a protein shake with added sugar just to their taste. it's still awkward, but one day Neil says "it's just... not like you" and Kevin starts trying harder.

He's kind and wants everyone to see it, wants to be a good friend for them.

he books a table in a restaurant just for dan and wymack because they need time together.

he says "It's good that you have someone by your side with all that... must be good to have your person" and Nicky cries a little because this time Kevin doesn't mention the merits of being heterosexual athlete

he talks to Allison about her life and her family because he knows she doesn't like to share things with her close friends, and Kevin isn't her close friend so she tells literally everything while trying to paint his nails.

he talks to Matt about best pro teams, telling which one he thinks is better for him. and Matt asks him about his future, and Kevin is too stupid to answer "wanna be closer to my family"

he teaches Aaron to use a computer, because Kevin's had time to learn it (not without Wymack's help) and Aaron never owned a computer before, and has been too afraid to try, basically he shows how to use word document and printer but. it's a lot.

he goes to church with Renee once or twice, she says "it's so kind of you" but then he realises, he is kind to himself this time. he remembers his mother taking him to church every Sunday and that's why he goes, it's not for Renee now, it's for him.

he also chooses pro teams for Andrew and Neil. it's far from his new city, but it's better for them — they have strong anti-discrimination policy and the city isn't too warm on summers or too cold on winters. he talks about that team every time Andrew calls him to check in but there must be something he's done wrong this time. Andrew joins Kevin's pro team, saying "your couch is my couch" as if he wants to be kind too. everybody knew how Kevin missed them.

Neil Josten whenever Kevin attempts to be kind

[h0neyfreak]

Me realizing I* can only really paint from reference images I took myself of things I experienced because otherwise the final painting will lack some indescribable element and feel perpetually stale every time I look at it which means I need to both leave the house AND actually remember to take photos of moments and things I experience

*referring to myself, the individual making this post, and not anyone else, because they are not me.

[emeraldblonde]

I tried to mod something and the good news is, it didn't crash the game. 🥳 The bad news is, not what I was looking for lmao.

Like, don't get me wrong. I've seen way worse (the stuff of nightmares) on a modding channel I've been teaching myself this stuff lately, so. It's not like I completely fucked this thing up or anything like that.

It's just... I still gotta ask though.

What went wrong here?

[a-lonely-dunedain]

I hate the Staghorns so much. every time I do their questline to get that painting I think "oh surely it's not going to make me mad this time around" and YET

[demigodofhoolemere]

Me through most of Boom: Wow, this is a really solid dramatic episode.

Me when Moffat needlessly sprinkles in anti-faith sentiments without specifying that it’s blind faith in bad things that the Doctor doesn’t like, which makes it come off like the Doctor is just against religion generally:

[bmpmp3]

post ankle-twisting clarity

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent game related things .. hrmm...

[a-sleepy-ginger]

3/4/24

✿❈✿❈✿

Baby potato

Finished hime Sama goumon no jikan desu anime and it was really cute

Fruit

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

18+ mdni!

c/w: mean older!rafe being a tease & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

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

Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.  

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.   

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.   

“What are you doing? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.  

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” The muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.   

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”  

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps. 

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.   

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.   

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.  

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” He mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.   

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.  

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.  

“Shit, just needed something to suck on, huh?” He pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.   

“So fucking pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anything Daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.   

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.   

“Feels nice to have something in your mouth, doesn’t it?” He ogles at her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.   

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.   

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.   

“Daddy, need your...” Her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth. 

“Can’t really hear you, Kitten,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.   

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.  

"What did you say?" His lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.   

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.   

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.   

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.  

“Don't think you could take Daddy’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.   

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.   

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, Kitten,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.   

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants. 

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whining about wanting me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” There’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.  

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.   

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.  

“What was that?” The line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.   

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” He grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.  

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her. 

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” He rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he'll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves… 

[haveihitanerve]

Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't

It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.” 

Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?” 

Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, want to have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s. 

Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!” 

“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.” 

@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown

you asked and you shall recieve!

[deadsetobsessions]

Writing Prompt… kind of? Definitely write more if you want but this was a cute little “fic starter” that popped into my mind.

——

Danny didn’t know the first thing about art. This is an important fact.

“Sam, why am I even here?”

“Suck it up, Casper.”

“The show or the school?” Danny privately thought Casper the Friendly Ghost was the best thing to have come around. It did wonders for improving relations between Amity and inhabitants of the Zone.

Sam smacked him on the arm. “You know which one. You’re just here to be the normie judge. You don’t need to know anything about art.”

“Everyone here is like an art acolyte or something, Sam! I’m an engineering newb in a room full of people with art PhDs!”

Sam rolled her eyes and checked her manicures. “If you call Fenton Works newb level, then the rest of the world would be Neanderthals. Seriously that’s why you’re here. The art’s gotta appeal to the untrained eyes too. I trust your judgement.”

Danny gave in. “Thanks, Sam. That means a lot.” He followed after Sam but after a moment, he whined, “But couldn’t you have taken Tucker? Dude’s got four untrained eyes!”

“He’s busy with his internship. And you were already in Gotham.”

They reach the exhibition, Sam and Danny being welcomed in. Sam’s parents, while not the richest of the rich, were known art connoisseurs and respected people in the communities that dotted around the world. On top of being the descendants of the man that invented the deli toothpick cellophane twirling device, that is. Sam was standing in their place today- begrudgingly- because they’d promised to pay for an entire month of Gotham architecture tours and a trip to Japan. After all, Sam had much of their knowledge too. If anyone could say anything about the Masons, it was that they were passionate in their chosen field. L

“The contestants are in the room next door. The judge panel is beginning.” The person at the door informed them. He gave them a slip of paper and a pen to mark their choices in each field. Danny breathed a sigh of relief and began wandering around.

After he wandered between the oil paintings- “oo, this one. Reason why… the vibes are nostalgic. I like it.”- and the various depictions of a specific ship, Danny was pulled to a stop by his core reaching out. He looked up and what he saw took his breath away.

It was just a photo.

But it felt like he was there, on that rooftop, crouched among the shadows and watching the early rays of muffled light hit the tops of his city. His core thrummed. It felt like protection. It felt like he was being fulfilled, like Danny was once more becoming Phantom and that he was watching over this city he’s beginning to understand.

Danny, almost fevered, scribbled down the name [A Robin’s Nest- by Tim Drake] as his number one choice to win the contest over all. And, at least, to win the first in the photography division.

——

“Oh, Ancients, are you okay?”

Danny had wandered around in the interim as the votes were tallied. He hadn’t been paying attention when he smacked into a little kid that could have been his little brother.

“Uhm. I’m good.”

Danny helped the kid up. “I’m Danny. I’m sorry I smacked into you. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yeah. I’m Timothy Drake. I’m good.”

Danny’s smile widened in shock. “Like the photographer? Oh, wow! I really loved that photo! It was amazing! It felt like I was up there with the vigilantes!”

As he spoke, Danny glanced around for the kid’s designated adults. Hm. That’s odd. Everyone and their parental figure was accounted for.

“Oh.” Timothy flushed. “Thanks! I hoped the judges liked it too.”

Danny smiled, a small secretive thing. “Oh, I’m sure they will. Will you tell me more about your photography?”

“Oh, if you want!”

——

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.