#without going wildly obsessive about it

[thatweirdtranny]

why is finding the right skincare routine so impossible

[parme-san]

"squidbob dynamic is when one is nice and one is a tsundere" you can't even begin to understand how insane squidbob is

[valeriehalla]

I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.

I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:

the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and

the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.

Okay. Point 1. The frog-boiling.

Let me put this in perspective for you. There was already a meme about how the characters in “Saki” don’t wear underwear when I was in middle school. I am thirty now. Okay? And it’s still going.

In the time since, this has stopped being a joke. It is now indisputable canon. This is not because anyone outright says it at any point. It’s because the underwear ran out of places to hide. I’m obsessed with this thought: somewhere in the over 20 volumes of “Saki”, there is a panel in which underwear was objectively deconfirmed. And it would be so hard to figure out where that panel actually is. Maybe the artist didn’t even realize it when she drew it! The frog? Boiling!!

And of course there is also the breast expansion. I don’t know how to put a spin on this. They are just expanding. Like, this happens a lot with artists: you define a character as being, in your mind, “the one with the big boobs”, and over the years you emphasize that trait further and further so that the signal doesn’t get lost in the noise. It’s just that normally—in like a wildly popular manga series about mahjong published by literally Square Enix, for example—normally there would be a point at which the boobs stopped getting bigger. Like, an editor would step in or something. Or you would get to the point where you cannot draw the character in the same panel as her mahjong tiles without her breasts spilling over the tiles, and you’d go, “Well, this is now untenable.”

That did not happen. There is no ceiling. The frog is soup.

Point 2. The complete and utter mundanity of all of this.

It’s like this, okay: there’s no shortage of trashy ecchi manga out there. There’s a million other comics doing wildly bawdier things with wildly more improbable bishoujos.

The vibe with “Saki” is different.

It’s hard to explain this, but it feels like the world of the comic is fundamentally uninterested in the fanservice happening on the page. I cannot describe it as “leering”, because I cannot conceive of a person in the story from whose point of view one would leer. I think the artist is probably into it—I can’t imagine anyone is making her do this—but “Saki” the comic has no opinion on the matter.

There are essentially no male characters in “Saki”. Like, there was one guy? Kind of? At the very beginning? But he is gone now. They put him back in the toybox. He does not exist. It appears to be some level of canonical that in the world of “Saki”, almost all humans are women. Those women are sometimes romantically into each other. According to comments the artist has made on Twitter (which I cannot source), they have lesbian baby technology, so it’s no problem. It’s so much not a problem that the story is about mahjong, instead of any of that.

So, like, the fiction here appears to be this: this is the, like, meta-narrative of the fanservice of “Saki”, right: it’s just normal that they don’t wear underwear and their boobs are arbitrarily big. It’s been normal. It was normal before the story of the manga began. It’s just how things are. Nobody bats an eye about it, and if they do, it’s in sort of a lesbian kind of way so like what’s the problem, we love lesbians here. This is literally normal for girls.

The fanservice simply diffuses into this all-encompassing aura of disembodied, ambient sluttiness. The framing of the panels demands you acknowledge it, and the story demands you already be over it, because it’s mahjong time now, and we’re playing mahjong.

Do you get??? why I’m so fascinated??? Are you not a little enraptured???

Anyway, I have no idea how to end this weird post. I guess the conclusion is that women stay winning????

[rafecameronssl4t]

Attention || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: literally tit obsessed!rafe fawning over readers boobs

Warnings: mention of birth control, swearing, slightly suggestive?

Word count: 851

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“He’s just so infuriating!” you vent, your voice sharp as you pull your hair into a messy bun, the motion jerky with irritation. You couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth across the deck, your mind racing. Rafe was lounging in one of the chairs, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to your bubbling frustration.

His eyes followed you with quiet intensity, but he wasn’t as focused on your words as you wanted him to be. “He knew I was going to tell Mom and Dad about it,” you continue, voice rising. “But no, he just had to stick his nose in my business and tell them first!” You were fuming, your hands gesturing wildly as you ranted about your brother’s constant meddling.

Rafe barely responded, his gaze more intent on your figure than the content of your words. He watched the way your shoulders tensed, how your movements betrayed just how worked up you were, but he wasn’t truly listening. His mind was elsewhere, his lips twitching up into that familiar lazy smile as his eyes drifted over you.

“Rafe, baby, are you even listening?” you snap, suddenly stopping in your tracks, hands on your hips. You glared at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. Rafe blinked, seemingly dragged out of his own head, and lazily looked up at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course I am,” he replied, his voice casual, as though you hadn’t just been spilling your frustrations.

“You want me to, uh, talk to Top? Tell me what you want me to do.” You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive move. The action, while innocent on your end, drew Rafe’s attention immediately. His eyes widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat, leaning back with his lips pursed. He watched the way you folded your arms, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.

“I dunno,” you mutter, your anger deflating. “I’m just so mad at him. I don’t even want to speak to him right now.” Your voice softens, frustration fading into weariness as you finally give up on pacing and drop down onto the lounge chair beside Rafe. You set your eyes on the water in front of you, trying to focus on its calm surface, wishing it would somehow mirror in your emotions.

Without a word, Rafe slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. His lips brushed the top of your head, a quiet kiss that melted some of your remaining tension. The silent comfort of his touch was enough to ease the knot of frustration in your chest. For a moment, everything felt still, his warmth grounding you.

But then, Rafe’s voice broke the silence, his tone a little too amused. “By the way,” he murmured, his voice low, “when did your tits get so big?” His hand reaching down to squeeze. Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with shock. “Rafe Cameron!” you shouted, your playful outrage breaking through the calm as you shoved him away. His laughter rang out in response, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he doubled over in amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, though a smirk plays at the corner of your lips as his laughter fills the air. “It’s because of birth control, Rafe,” you retort, voice laced with playful sarcasm. His laughter slows, and he looks at you with raised eyebrows, the smirk fading into curiosity. “Birth control?” he echoes, clearly intrigued by where this was going.

You lean in closer, your eyes locking with his, a teasing glint in your gaze. “Yeah, because you can’t seem to pull out in time,” you say, your voice dripping with mock exasperation. Rafe’s smirk instantly returns, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans back into the chair, draping an arm behind his head.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he asks, his tone teasing but his grin growing wider. “Yes, Rafe,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a laugh as you nudge his leg with your foot. “I swear, every time—” Before you can finish, Rafe cuts you off with a low chuckle, his hand slipping behind your neck, gently pulling you closer. “Guess that’s something we’ll have to work on,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and sending a shiver down your spine.

He tilts your chin up to look at him, his thumb brushing across your jaw, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Or maybe I just like the idea of keeping you on birth control a little while longer.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he was looking at you. “You're impossible,” you mutter, though the softness in your voice betrays any real frustration.

Rafe only grins wider, kissing the top of your head again, this time lingering a little longer, clearly pleased with himself. “You love me for it,” he whispers against your hair, his tone teasing, but the way he holds you feels more tender, a quiet comfort that you didn’t realise you needed.

[tragic-ships-tournament]

Tragic Ships Tournament Quarter Finals

Propaganda under the cut!

Enjoltaire:

"Okay so the whole thing with them is that Enjolras is like the leader of the Les Amis; he believes in the revolution in his heart and soul and his being. He is a shining beacon of hope like Victor Hugo calls him Apollo in the book. He believes in freedom and in the future and that beyond the barricade, there's a new tomorrow waiting for them. Grantaire, on the other hand, doesn't believe in anything. He's a drunk and a cynic and he doesn't believe in that new tomorrow. If nothing had something to offer, Grantaire would stop believing in nothing. When he offers to do something to help the Les Amis, he gets distracted and drunk and I think he ends up playing dominoes? It might have been cards. Anyway, that's Grantaire. BUT Grantaire believes in ONE thing. And that ONE thing is ENJOLRAS. No matter how cynical and pessimistic Grantaire is, he believes in Enjolras. If Enjolras is Apollo, Grantaire is Icarus flying ever closer to him. And then at the end. When their revolution has failed and they are facing down the barrel of guns. Grantaire gets up and stands next to Enjolras and asks if he can hold his hand so that they can die together, and they do. It's heartbreaking and heart wrenching and Icarus brings the sun down with him as he falls."

Madohomu:

"madoka magica aired 12 episodes in 2011, with a sequel movie titled “rebellion” released in 2014. it’s been over 10 years since then, and these two have become the face of yuri. if someone makes a meme about loving yuri and makes a collage of example ships, madohomu are 100% gonna be present. video essays, fanart, fics, music videos and all kinds of fan projects featuring them are still wildly popular on all social media platforms.

but let’s talk about them (without going into too many spoilers, so this will be about the thematics in their relationship). they are light and darkness. the ying and the yang. forever intertwined. one would not exist without the other, yet they cannot exist together. for madoka has too much love for every living thing and too little for herself. and homura has too much love for madoka it blinds her to everything and everyone else, and she struggles with deep self-hatred. madoka has forsaken her own existence for the world, and homura has forsaken the world she created for her. the show has a lot of religious imagery, and madoka is akin to a god; there’s a shot of homura, who grew up catholic, kneeling at the feet of a gigantic statue of madoka, praying, but her hands stain her clothes. because if madoka is god, then homura is lucifer - specifically, iblis, the muslim version of lucifer, who loved god so much he betrayed him, for he’d rather defy him than bow to his creation, humans. and homura would rather defy the sanctity of madoka’s wish, rather than obey its laws, for she will take madoka’s happiness in her hands, if she refuses to. in the movie, dolls representing homura’s inner machinations yell, “gott ist tot”, for homura’s god, madoka, dies in the movie, when homura remembers that madoka was human first, and godhood was something she reached to save everyone, against her best interest and happiness. their relationship is one of love, kindness, obsession, devotion, hope, faith, worship - they are the thesis and the antithesis, the beginning and the end, the alpha and omega, an unstoppable force and an immovable object. forever locked in a struggle, never fully embracing, for madoka will always sacrifice herself for the world, and homura will always doom the world and herself for madoka."

[bitter-hibiscus]

Hear me out, hear me out. The reason why I think the dynamic of Batman and Robin is abusive is not because of the concept of child sidekicks.

Whenever you see other heroes with their respective sidekicks, their dynamics are about mentorship and being a guiding hand, most times about teaching the younger generation how to understand their powers better and how to use them for good. Child sidekicks are most commonly for the benefit of the child, not the adult.

That is not the case with Batman and Robin.

B&R's dynamic is for Bruce's benefit. Robin is the light to Batman's darkness. Robin is the one who saves Batman from himself. Batman needs a Robin. This is widely a result from Tim Drake's introduction as Robin, when Bruce was passively suicidal and causing more harm to people than he should. Tim and Bruce, in a vacuum, are not that much of a problem. It's still kind of messed up that Bruce would depend on a 13-year-old to get his mental health sorted out, but it makes sense in the context it exists in, where Jason had just died and Bruce blamed himself for it while simultaneously being in denial about his pain. The problem is that the idea that Batman can't function without a child to help him with his mental issues stuck.

It means that, between bad writers and good writers and wildly different interpretations of Bruce as a father, Bruce starts being painted as obsessive. He needs Robin to always be happy -- the guiding light -- he needs Robin to always be funny and upbeat but still mature and skilled and ready to die for Their Cause, that wouldn't have been Robin's cause at all if Bruce hadn't introduced the idea of it to them. Needing your child to never express a Bad Emotion or act out of line (like Jason was, for example, in the events leading up to ADITF) or else you're going to make them feel like they're undeserving of their place in your family (I'm not your father, Jason, I don't need teenage rebellion) is, in fact, abuse.

And the worst part is that this dynamic gets retroactively attributed to every Robin!!! Even though it really originated (or, rather, became truly ingrained in the text) with Tim!!! Because we keep getting more and more Robin Dick and Robin Jason stories written post-Robin!Tim and it gives them a dynamic with Bruce that they didn't have before!! Which sucks !!!

[diejager]

reader who still tries to get her mom to know whats happening to her, what they're doing to her, but her mom refuses to notice. reader getting so sad about this and konig/horangi seeing a chance of make her feel even more helpless. könig who smirk when he sees reader crying again because her mom doesn't even want to listen that her husband is being weird with her daughter :( horangi cooing in fake sympathy while he brutally fucks her that her mom will never listen to her, that konig is much more important to her mom than her. anyway i think they are sooooo sick and twisted every opportunity they have to make her feel bad and helpless they will take advantage of! she cant ever escape them >:)

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, age gap, spanking, dracryphilia, spitroast, creampie, unprotected sex, PinV, rough sex, degradation, condensation, tell me if I misse any.

Every attempt to bring to light their obsession and disgusting acts are met with roughness punishment, their jarringly, cruel chuckles and the mercilessness of their rough hands. König did most of the punishing with Horangi as his accomplice, holding your feet down on your bed while you were laid over König’s lap, his wide and hot palm soothing your naked ass. He was your stepfather, it was only natural that he did the reprimanding, scolding his baby for causing trouble for him and his friend.

He always smoothed the skin before landing a hit, your ass jostling with every hit that had you jerking and hissing, before he smoothed it over again. Spanking you was his go-to punishment when you acted out, pain was a better deterrent than pleasure and bribes were, you reacted to it more strongly than a good and hard fucking. He’d land one hard and two gentler ones on your left cheek, caressing it tenderly before doing the same to your right one, it was a rinse and repeat act. They cooed and laughed at you, scolding you with condescending tones that would - hopefully - put you in your place. You cried, sobs that rendered them unable to stop themselves from slipping a finger in while you were being spanked, your cheeks tear-strained and your ass swollen and bruised.

You probably wouldn’t be able to sit without hissing for the next few days while the bruises subsided and the pain would linger for a longer period because they were so rough with you, picking you up and making you ride them until they came. Your body hurt and you were tired, your legs numbed and walls milking them dry, labia swollen and cervix battered by your stepdad’s thick and veiny cock with his unusually large girth from tip to base.

It didn’t help that your tears and sobs only excited them, their taunts and insults burning your skin as much as the flush of your cheeks burned you with shame. It proved as an incentive to plough into you harder as your depressive murmurs and your feelings of helplessness, their hips driving harshly into you with greater enthusiasm, loud and wet slaps echoing in the empty house.

“Don’t cry, 애인,” Horangi smiled, a mock of sympathy in his eyes, glazed over with sadistic glee, “I know, but you’ll choke.” [sweetheart.]

He pushed his cock deeper, your nose tickled by his dirty pubes, wet with slick and drool, smelling musky with a smell of sex and sweat. You retched loudly when König pushed you harshly into Horangi, the tip of his cut cock tapping the back of your throat where it laid heavily on the fla tof your tongue. He gripped your hair, fingers digging into your scalp to hold you still while König bucked into you, pounding Horangi’s cum out of your cunt from he sides, his cock so thick that it took all the space. You gagged, squirming wildly under them with fresh tears down your face, you couldn’t breathe with him down your throat, his length stopping you from taking in much-needed air into your dazed mind.

“Fuck, just a bit more,” Horangi groaned, throwing his head back as he came down your throat, gushing from the tip of his leaky cock. “You look so pretty crying.”

You chocked around him, throat closing to swallow down the cum that trickled down to prevent yourself from drowning in his salty and tangy cream. A part of it exploded out, your cheeks swelling until it couldn’t take anymore, white cream dripping down your spread lips and chin, drawing a filthy line on your body and onto your couch. You were cross-eyed, back arched and body limp between them, using the armrest and your stepdad’s grip as your support stay on your knees, legs quacking with every rough thrust from him, punching what little air was left in your chest.

“Scheiße, the prettiest,” König heaved loudly, pressing his sweaty chest to you back, head over your shoulder while he whispered filthy things he wanted to do to you when you were crying and sad that you mother couldn’t see the darkness in them or how awful their treated you. He rutted into you with ferocity, teeth grinding, pushed onward with Horangi’s encouraging words, his convoluted thoughts for a future with you between them, “Unser hübscher Schatzi.” [Shit, the prettiest. Our pretty darling.]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 22 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇warnings: Telemachus is VERY freaky in this chapter, no direct nsfw but like there’s a lot of suggestive comments.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus leaned over the edge of the ship, gazing out at the endless horizon with a wistful sigh. The salty breeze tousled his hair, but it couldn’t distract him from the ache in his chest. “I just can’t stop thinking about her,” he said, his voice drenched in longing.

Acrisios, who was adjusting the sails nearby, rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head. “You’ve been thinking about her since we left Ithaca. Gods above, Telemachus, give it a rest.”

Telemachus turned to his friend, clutching the railing dramatically. “But you don’t understand, Acrisios! She’s… she’s everything. Her smile, her wit, the way she gets all flustered when she’s trying to argue with me—it’s like I can still hear her voice in the wind.”

Acrisios groaned and ran a hand down his face. “No, Telemachus. That’s just the wind. Or maybe the sound of the crew wishing you’d stop talking. Or if we’re lucky enough it’s the sound of Poseidon approaching and killing us all so we don’t have to hear this.”

Telemachus ignored the jab, pressing his hand to his chest as if it might ease the ache. “Do you think she misses me? Or do you think she’s furious that I left without telling her sooner? Oh, gods, what if she’s already forgotten about me?”

Acrisios threw down the rope he was tying, finally fed up. “Telemachus, she hasn’t forgotten about you. How could she, with how obsessed you are? I bet she’s just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet now that you’re not there to constantly harass her.”

Telemachus frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Acrisios shot back, crossing his arms. “Look, I get it. She’s amazing, she’s perfect, you’re in love, blah blah blah. But if you don’t stop yapping about her, I swear I’ll jump overboard and swim to Pylos myself to get away from you.”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes. “You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home.”

Acrisios barked a laugh. “Jealous? No, I’m grateful. I don’t have to pine like some lovesick poet while there’s actual work to be done.”

Telemachus sighed again, turning back to the sea. “You’ll never understand what we have. She’s my other half, my reason to keep going.”

Acrisios shook his head and muttered under his breath, “I’m about to make her my reason to push you overboard.”

“What was that?” Telemachus asked, not looking back.

“Nothing,” Acrisios replied with a smirk, grabbing the rope again. “Now get your lovesick self together before the crew throws you over for real.”

Telemachus grumbled but stayed quiet, though he couldn’t help but trace the outline of Y/N’s face in the clouds above. Telemachus paced the deck, gesturing wildly as he rambled. “And then there’s the way she wrinkles her nose when she’s annoyed, like she’s trying so hard not to smile, but you can tell she wants to. It’s adorable, Acrisios. Adorable! Don’t you think so?”

Acrisios sat on a barrel, his head in his hands. “I don’t even remember what she looks like, Telemachus. I couldn’t tell you if she’s adorable or a Gorgon in disguise. And at this point, I don’t care!”

“But her hair—” Telemachus began, his voice dreamy.

“Enough!” Acrisios shot to his feet, his patience finally snapping. “I swear by the gods, Telemachus, if you say one more word about Pandora, I’m throwing you overboard myself!”

Telemachus blinked, taken aback. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Acrisios growled, storming toward him.

Before Telemachus could respond, Acrisios grabbed him by the shoulders and began dragging him toward the edge of the ship. “You’re going to learn to shut up, one way or another!”

“Wait, wait, wait! Acrisios, this isn’t funny!” Telemachus yelped, flailing as Acrisios pushed him closer to the railing.

“Neither is listening to you talk about her every single second of this cursed voyage!” Acrisios barked, giving Telemachus a little shove that made him teeter precariously over the edge.

A group of crew members rushed over, alarmed by the commotion. One of them, a burly sailor named Dorios, grabbed Acrisios by the arm. “Hey! Calm down, Acrisios! You can’t just toss Odysseus’s son into the sea!”

“He’s not acting like Odysseus’s son—he’s acting like a lovesick fool!” Acrisios retorted, though he let Dorios pull him back a step.

Another sailor, Andros, held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright, everyone breathe. Telemachus, maybe tone it down with the gushing. Acrisios, put him down before you get yourself thrown overboard.”

Telemachus, still dangling half over the railing, scowled. “I wasn’t gushing!”

“Yes, you were!” the entire crew shouted in unison.

Dorios hauled Telemachus back onto the deck, shaking his head. “Gods save us, this is going to be a long voyage.”

Acrisios pointed a finger at Telemachus, his face red with frustration. “One more word about her, Telemachus. Just one. I dare you.”

Telemachus straightened his tunic, glaring at Acrisios. But after a moment of silence, he mumbled, “Her eyes really are perfect, though…”

Acrisios lunged, but Dorios and Andros grabbed him just in time, dragging him away as he shouted threats.

Telemachus sighed, brushing himself off. “You’d think they’d understand. True love is a gift, not a curse.” The crew groaned in unison, and Acrisios’s muffled yelling could still be heard from the other side of the ship.

——

The gentle sway of the ship rocked the cabin as Telemachus and Acrisios shared a small bunk, the tight quarters forcing them to sleep back-to-back. Acrisios was already irritated at having to share a bed with Telemachus, but exhaustion from the day’s work had him drifting off regardless. That is, until Telemachus stirred in his sleep and mumbled, “Y/N…”

Acrisios’s eye twitched, but he ignored it. Moments later, Telemachus turned over, flinging an arm around Acrisios and muttering again, “Y/N… my sweet…”

Acrisios groaned, his patience hanging by a thread. “This cannot be happening.”

But Telemachus snuggled closer, his grip tightening as he whispered, “Y/N… your hair… your eyes…” That was it. Acrisios sat up abruptly, shoving Telemachus off him and onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Get off me, you lovesick idiot!” Acrisios snapped, glaring down at Telemachus, who was groaning on the floor and rubbing his head.

“What was that for?” Telemachus protested, sitting up.

“For this!” Acrisios gestured wildly. “Even in your sleep, you’re obsessed with her! Do you know how disturbing it is to wake up to you clinging to me like I’m your precious Y/!?”

Telemachus blinked, his face turning red. “I-I wasn’t clinging to you!”

“Oh, yes, you were,” Acrisios shot back, crossing his arms. “Muttering her name like I’m some stand in for your little lovebird.”

Telemachus scrambled to his feet, his embarrassment quickly turning to indignation. “It’s not my fault! I can’t control what I do in my sleep!”

“Well, control yourself now!” Acrisios snapped, jabbing a finger at him. “Find another bunk, or I’m throwing you overboard—again!”

“There’s nowhere else to sleep, Acrisios!” Telemachus retorted, throwing up his hands. “And if you’d just let me dream about Y/N in peace—”

“In peace?!” Acrisios interrupted, his voice rising. “You were practically whispering sweet nothings into my ear!”

Telemachus huffed. “You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re being unbearable!” Acrisios growled, throwing himself back onto the bunk and turning his back to Telemachus. “One more peep about Y/N—even in your dreams—and I swear I’m sleeping on the deck next time.”

“Fine,” Telemachus muttered, climbing back into the bunk. But after a moment of silence, he mumbled under his breath, “She really does have the softest hands, though…”

Acrisios groaned, grabbing his pillow and smashing it over his head to block out the sound. “I can’t take this anymore.”

——

The morning sun painted the ship’s deck in gold as the crew bustled about their duties. Acrisios leaned lazily against the mast, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips as Telemachus passed by.

“So, Telemachus,” Acrisios began, loud enough for the other crew members to hear, “I’ve been thinking. Y/N might be better off with a real man, you know? Someone who isn’t always whining about her like a lost puppy.”

Telemachus stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, come on,” Acrisios said with a shrug, his tone dripping with mockery. “I’m just saying, she’d probably appreciate someone with a bit more… experience. Someone who can handle himself without tripping over his own feet every time she bats her eyes.”

A few of the crew chuckled, but Telemachus didn’t join in. Instead, his jaw clenched, and his fists balled at his sides. “Acrisios, you’re walking on thin ice.”

Ignoring the warning, Acrisios pressed on, clearly enjoying himself. “I bet if I showed up with flowers and actual charm, she’d forget all about you in a heartbeat. She deserves a man who can sweep her off her feet, not some boy who spends half the time whining about how much he misses her.” The other crew members exchanged wary glances as Telemachus’s face darkened.

“Shut your mouth,” Telemachus said, his voice low but filled with warning.

Acrisios smirked, leaning closer. “Or what? Are you going to cry? Maybe I’ll send her a message when we get to Sparta—let her know she has better options.”

That was the final straw. Telemachus surged forward, grabbing Acrisios by the collar and shoving him back against the mast. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that again,” he snarled, his face inches from Acrisios’s.

Acrisios’s smirk faltered as he saw the fury in Telemachus’s eyes. “Whoa, whoa, it was a joke!” he said, holding up his hands defensively.

“It wasn’t funny,” Telemachus snapped, his grip tightening. “You can tease me all you want, but leave Y/N out of it. Understand?”

“Alright, alright!” Acrisios said quickly, trying to pry Telemachus’s hands off his collar. “Relax, lover boy!” Telemachus released him with a shove, glaring as Acrisios straightened his tunic and muttered under his breath.

The rest of the crew stayed silent, pretending to focus on their tasks as Telemachus stormed off. Acrisios watched him go, rubbing his neck. “Man, he really is whipped,” he muttered, earning a few nervous chuckles from the crew. “He must get that pussy on a daily for him to be this desperate.”

But none of them dared say it loud enough for Telemachus to hear.

——

The sea breeze was calm that afternoon, but the deck of the ship was anything but. Telemachus leaned on a barrel, staring wistfully at the horizon while Acrisios attempted—unsuccessfully—to ignore him, fiddling with a loose rope knot.

“And then, right before I sailed, she hugged me,” Telemachus sighed for the hundredth time. “I can still feel it. It wasn’t just a hug, Acrisios. It was the hug. Like a promise, you know? A silent promise.”

Acrisios groaned, pulling tighter on the knot. “If I hear the word ‘Y/N’ one more time, I’m going to jump overboard.”

“But you get it, right?” Telemachus turned to him, his eyes shining. “The way she looks at me, the way her voice sounds when she says my name—”

“Telemachus,” Acrisios cut him off sharply, glaring. “I will physically throw you overboard myself and make sure no one will hear you this time.”

“Wow, someone’s cranky,” Telemachus teased, smirking. “Maybe you just need a girl of your own to obsess over.”

“I don’t obsess,” Acrisios muttered, turning his back to Telemachus.

“You totally do,” Telemachus shot back. “I bet there’s someone waiting for you back in Ithaca, huh? Some girl who’s just dying to see you again?”

“Nope,” Acrisios said quickly, too quickly.

Telemachus’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You hesitated. You hesitated! Acrisios, you do have someone!”

“I don’t,” Acrisios said firmly, his face starting to turn red.

“You so do!” Telemachus practically leaped to his feet, pointing at him accusingly. “Tell me! Who is she? Is it someone from the palace? Someone from town? Is she—”

“It’s no one,” Acrisios snapped, pulling the knot so tight the rope frayed.

“Come on, Acrisios,” Telemachus pressed, his grin widening. “You can’t hide it from me. I’m great with secrets! Is she—”

“It’s Lethea, alright!?” Acrisios blurted, then immediately froze, realizing what he’d just said.

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“LETHEA?!” Telemachus squealed, his voice practically cracking. “Your father’s friend’s daughter?!”

“Shut up,” Acrisios muttered, his face now beet red.

“But she’s gorgeous!” Telemachus exclaimed, his hands flailing dramatically. “And sweet! And—oh my gods, does she know?!”

“No, and she’s not going to,” Acrisios grumbled, glaring at Telemachus.

“But you have to tell her!” Telemachus insisted, bouncing on his heels. “She’s amazing! And you’re—you’re….Acrisios…I guess? She’d totally fall for you anyway.”

“I said shut up,” Acrisios growled, his glare darkening.

Telemachus, of course, ignored him entirely, already lost in his matchmaking fantasies. “You could totally win her over. You just need a plan. Oh, I could help you write a love letter! Or no, wait—”

“If you say one more word,” Acrisios interrupted, grabbing the rope and holding it threateningly, “I will tie you up and leave you at the next port.”

“Alright, alright,” Telemachus said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. But the mischievous sparkle in his eyes betrayed him. “Still, Lethea, huh? I never would’ve guessed…”

Acrisios groaned, burying his face in his hands. He knew he’d never hear the end of this.

——

The ship rocked gently against the waves, the creak of wood and the occasional splash of water the only sounds filling the cabin. Acrisios lay sprawled on the bed, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Beside him, Telemachus shifted for the third time in as many minutes, clearly restless.

Acrisios sighed, turning his head slightly to glance at his friend. “Alright, out with it. What’s wrong this time?”

Telemachus hesitated, staring up at the dark ceiling. He fidgeted with a loose thread on his tunic before finally mumbling, “It’s nothing.”

Acrisios raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve been squirming like a fish caught in a net for the past hour. Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing’ to me.”

Telemachus groaned, covering his face with his hands. “It’s stupid.”

“Most things you worry about are,” Acrisios quipped, smirking. “Come on, just say it.”

There was a long pause before Telemachus finally blurted out, “I’m not ready to meet Y/N again!”

Acrisios blinked. “What?”

Telemachus groaned again, turning to face Acrisios, his expression a mix of panic and embarrassment. “I mean—what if she expects… things from me? What if I disappoint her? I don’t—I don’t know how to… properly sleep with a woman!”

Acrisios stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Are you serious? That’s what you’re worried about?”

Telemachus’s face turned bright red. “It’s not funny!” he hissed, shoving Acrisios’s shoulder.

“Actually, it’s hilarious,” Acrisios said between chuckles, wiping a tear from his eye. “Gods, Telemachus, you’ve got to stop overthinking everything.”

Telemachus sat up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m serious, Acrisios! What if she thinks I’m… inexperienced? What if I mess everything up? She’ll think I’m a joke.”

Acrisios rolled his eyes, sitting up as well. “First of all, I don’t think she cares about that. She’s probably more worried about you coming back in one piece than how ‘experienced’ you are in bed.”

“But—”

“Second,” Acrisios interrupted, placing a hand on Telemachus’s shoulder, “you’re putting way too much pressure on yourself. Women aren’t looking for perfection, alright? Just… be yourself. If you care about her, and you treat her right, that’s what matters.” Telemachus looked doubtful, but Acrisios gave him a reassuring smile.

“And third,” Acrisios added with a smirk, “if you’re that desperate for advice, I could always give you a few pointers.”

Telemachus’s eyes widened in horror. “No, gods, no! I don’t want to know what you do with women!”

Acrisios laughed, clapping him on the back. “Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me if you’re awkward on your first night.”

Telemachus groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” Acrisios said with a grin, lying back down.

Despite his teasing, Acrisios’s words stuck with Telemachus, and as the ship swayed gently beneath them, he found himself feeling a little less anxious. Maybe Acrisios was right—maybe he just needed to stop overthinking.

——

The soft glow of dawn filtered through the cabin window as Acrisios stirred awake. He stretched lazily, rubbing his eyes, when an unusual rustling sound caught his attention. Blinking groggily, he propped himself up on one elbow and turned toward the source of the noise.

What he saw nearly made him fall off the bed.

There stood Telemachus, butt ass naked, clutching a pillow against his chest. His face was an intense mask of concentration as he awkwardly shifted his hips and muttered under his breath, seemingly practicing… something. Acrisios stared in stunned silence for a good ten seconds before bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. He clutched his stomach, doubling over on the bed as tears streamed down his face.

“Gods above!” Acrisios wheezed. “What in Hades are you doing, Telemachus?!”

Telemachus froze, his face turning a shade of red so deep it could rival the evening sun. He scrambled to cover himself with the pillow, spinning around to face Acrisios. “I—I wasn’t—It’s not what it looks like!”

Acrisios laughed even harder, practically choking on his breath as he pointed at Telemachus. “Not what it looks like? You’re naked, grinding on a pillow, and talking to it! What else could it possibly be?!”

Telemachus groaned, clutching the pillow tighter and burying his face in it. “I was practicing, alright?!”

That only made Acrisios laugh harder. He rolled onto his back, pounding the bed with his fist. “Practicing! Oh, this is priceless. You’re pathetic, you know that?”

Telemachus glared at him, his face still burning. “I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

Acrisios sat up, still grinning ear to ear. “Oh, I’m definitely telling Y/N about this when we get back to Ithaca. ‘Oh, hey, Y/N, did you know your dear Telemachus spends his mornings seducing pillows?’”

“Don’t you dare!” Telemachus yelled, his voice cracking in panic.

Acrisios leaned forward, smirking wickedly. “Oh, I will. She deserves to know the man she’s been pining over is a lunatic who thinks pillows are practice partners.”

Telemachus groaned, throwing the pillow at Acrisios’s face. “You’re insufferable!”

Acrisios caught the pillow with ease, still laughing. “And you’re pathetic. Don’t throw that at me! I don’t know where that pillow has been. Now, for the love of the gods, put some clothes on before the crew sees you like this. I don’t think I can explain this one to them without dying of laughter.”

Telemachus stomped over to his discarded clothes, muttering curses under his breath as Acrisios continued to snicker.

“Honestly, Telemachus,” Acrisios said, wiping a tear from his eye, “this trip is worth it just for moments like these.”

Telemachus glared at him but said nothing, his dignity in tatters. It would take a lot of convincing—and possibly a bribe—to make sure Acrisios kept this embarrassing moment to himself.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world

@simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[gaywarcriminals]

YQY getting hit with truth serum so he has to confess The Secret to SJ is definitely a thing, because jesus fucking christ ANYTHING to make that man talk, but I think the potential for an even larger audience is fantastic.

A scenario like SQQ's trial. Things are dug up. Other things are implied or even fabricated. YQY is on trial. He's presented with some kind of truth serum. He refuses to take it until it's clarified that it won't compel him to speak, just prevent him from lying. He takes it.

They were lying. It absolutely does compel him to answer any questions asked of him. And the results are completely unhinged.

The Xuan Su thing doesn't even come up. It doesn't need to. In an attempt to paint him as scheming and ambitious, he's asked why he became sect leader.

"So I can give Xiao Jiu whatever he wants."

The assembled crowd: ?????

Is this Xiao Jiu a....mistreess? A son? What the hell. Questioning continues, and Yue Qingyuan's insanity is put on full display.

"What if 'Xiao Jiu' wanted to be the sect leader?"

"I would make him the sect leader."

"Surely the other peak lords of Cang Qiong would object. What would you do, then?"

"Whatever I had to."

Whatever they were originally asking about gets seriously derailed as they realize that this guy, arguably the most powerful cultivator in the world, is singularly obsessed with a person he calls 'Xiao Jiu.' Why did he seek power? Xiao Jiu. What is his ultimate goal? Xiao Jiu.

It's also starting to seem like maybe Xiao Jiu isn't exactly a willing participant.

"What does Xiao Jiu ask you for?"

"To leave him alone."

Okay. So his attentions are unwanted. Yikes.

Further questioning reveals that this mysterious person seems to hate Yue Qingyuan, but is regularly subject to his attentions anyway.

The one question he won't answer is 'who is Xiao Jiu.' He's bleeding from the mouth and eyes, but he just shakes his head or says, "He told me not to call him that."

In the audience, no one noticed Shen Qingqiu's total bluescreen, because honestly? All of the peak lords are feeling pretty lost for words right now.

I dunno, I just think it's specifically interesting to a) have a public reveal that this man is a lunatic, and b) have SQQ find out the depths of YQY's devotion without being able to get the answer he wants most.

This would drive SJ absolutely insane. On the one hand he’s happy that YQY isn’t spilling every little detail of their past for these vultures to pick through, on the other hands where the fuck is this coming from??? What sense do these answers make in the mouth of the man who abandoned him? If it was anyone else saying these things he’d be wildly uncomfortable, but this is just confusing (if he were to really sit with his feelings, he might realize that any immediate sense of revolution was swept away by a long-dormant sense of possessiveness). He intends to grab YQY and shake him as soon as YQY stops giving the OPM grounds to charge him with stalking or harassment or something, and YQY will just give him guilty eyes because he things SJ is mad about every he said on the stand 😔. Actually scratch that for qijiu’s benefit the potion should still be in effect, so the moment they’re behind doors SJ can furiously ask why, if YQY doesn’t despise him, he saw fit to abandon him back then and every day since their reunion. YQY can try to hold himself back from speaking to the point of coughing up blood again, which only enrages SJ further, and eventually YQY is forced to speak his explanation through his rough and bloodied throat. SJ is have every single emotion today and has a 50/50 chance of learning what YQY’s blood tastes like (for normal kissing reasons. Normaler than usual).

On a different note, I felt palatable anxiety reading the first part of the ask because I thought you were going to say that YQY confessed about Xuan Su in public, his greatest weakness and a questionable/unnatural feat of cultivation that he could well be criticized for. I legit think that if that happened SJ would consider killing everyone else in the room to stop the secret from getting out— he doesn’t have time to process all the complicated emotions from what YQY just told him, he only knows that’s it’s intolerable for YQY to be this vulnerable in front of people SJ distrusts or despises.

[evilminji]

You know... >.>

My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.

Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?

Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.

So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.

Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.

Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.

So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.

Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.

Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.

They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.

Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.

They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.

Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.

Which she was.

Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)

They have Apology Bribes.

They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...

Maybe...

That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?

They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...

And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...

She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.

Fine.

"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"

And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.

The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.

But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?

It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.

Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.

Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!

But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?

Uuuuuuhhhh?

Hi?

That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!

Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.

Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...

Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.

Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.

Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

[genderqueerdykes]

As an AMAB Transmasc who’s also transfem it’s just infuriating that people can be so cruel about us and about AFAB Transfems

as an intersex transfem & transmasc person, i wanted to say from the bottom of my heart that i absolutely despise how people treat you, and AFAB transfems. the entire point of the trans community is that we DON'T CARE about what genitals strangers have or were born with. but instead, we've turned it around and become so obsessed with genitals that we force EACH AND EVERY TRANS PERSON to disclose what genitals they have in order to be "allowed" to identify as trans.

like think about it. i was assigned male at birth. then my biological sex marker was switched to female, and i was forced on estrogen. as someone who realized it was transmasculine first and had to struggle to be seen as masculine and a man, how does your situation offend me at all? you're going through the exact same thing. you don't relate to cis masculinity or manhood. why do i care about what genitals or gender marker you were born with? i was assigned male at birth and identify as transmasc. being intersex is not what gives me "permission" to identify this way.

you're not "stepping on the toes" of AFAB and intersex transmascs. you're showing people that gender is so complicated that even people assigned a gender at birth can be divorced from that gender due to societal or personal factors. people forget that assigned gender at birth doesn't define how that person experiences gender in practice. if you feel that you are transitioning into or have had to transition into masculinity, then i believe you. you are. i don't know what you're experiencing. i have no right to tell you what your experience is. and no one else does, either

people are especially harsh on AFAB transfems because of misogyny. like it all boils down to misogyny. people DESPERATELY want to treat AFAB people like shit for any reason. by any means necessary. and of course, with that person identifying as feminine and/or a woman, that compounds it and makes it worse. people just let their misogyny run free and attack and insult that person and tell them they're too stupid to understand what they're experiencing like. people who behave this way: you're not slick. we can tell that you're wildly misogynistic.

you being transfem shouldn't cancel out your transmasculinity, either. i know people must look at you and just straight up ignore your transmasculinity, but they don't have the right to. you are allowed to be both transmasc and transfem at once, not that you need my permission. i hate that people are forcing you into a position where you can't even express yourself in the queer community without people literally attacking you and forcing you to divulge your assigned gender at birth.

i really need to stress that, again, we are literally the "we don't care what genitals you have/were born with" community... and now people are literally FORCING strangers to divulge what genitals they have. people are NOT concerned about the gendered experience you've gone through growing up. they're concerned about your genitals. and its fucking disgusting. i'm sorry you have to go through this. as an intersex transfemasc person, you have all of my support, and then some. y'all aren't hurting anyone. people are hurting you, and it's fucked that they just don't care.

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed in December - DC Comics Fic Rec List

Fell headfirst back into DC Comics for the first time in years this month. Reread some old favorites and discovered some new gems!

Heart, Humble by Betty (Mature, 8k, 2005) Jack Drake deals with finding out that Tim is Robin (poorly, and then not so poorly). THEE canon-accurate Jack Drake-focused fic of all time, this is canon in my heart.

Back then, all the boys his age had hero-worshipped costumed vigilantes. Jack supposes they still do.

Exit Strategy by smilebackwards/@smilebackwards (Teen & Up, 13k, 2021) Tim plans to leave a family he thinks he was never really a part of and decides to train Damian on how to run Wayne Enterprises before he goes. Delicious angst, excellent character work, and fun Wayne Enterprises worldbuilding.

Batman needs a Robin and Batman has a Robin. Tim is just extraneous now, vestigial. He’s a bandage over a healed wound. He doesn’t know what he’s hanging on to. Or: Tim didn’t expect his exit strategy from the Batfamily to involve quite so much bonding time with Damian over Wayne Enterprises bureaucracy.

On the Downbeat by husborth (Teen & Up, 2k, 2019) Bruce and Jason talk while waiting in line at a drive-thru (featuring Gotham-typical violence and husborth-typical gorgeous prose). I've always adored husborth's Star Wars fics and I'm so glad I dipped my toe into their DC works, no one's writing hits quite like husborth.

Jason has recovered his sanity, and Bruce and Jason have recovered their relationship; but there are some things that are hard to forget.

A Zoo for Canines by husborth (Mature, 45k, 2019) Part 2 of Zoology; Dick and Jason try to help Bruce recover from addiction. If you're used to fanon Dick Grayson (cheery, friendly, forgiving) you will not find him here - his anger and pain is ugly, raw, and so fucking captivating.

Dick, Bruce, and Jason head out to a cabin in the mountains, and they handle things about as well as they handle anything.

All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 70k, 2015) Dick almost dies and makes Jason promise to take care of the family for him. A masterclass demonstration on how DC fic can square all the wildly divergent canon versions of Jason Todd into a single compelling character.

For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.)

The Till-Then From the Ever-Since by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 85k (WIP), 2020) Kid versions of the whole Batfamily mysteriously time travel to the future! I livetexted a friend the whole time I read this so I could yell about how amazing the character writing is; also I'm wildly impressed with how the author deftly handles tons of dialogue-heavy scenes with like 12+ guys in it without anyone going unmentioned.

It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason. Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

only you will have stars that can laugh by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 9k, 2022) Dick finds out Tim is alone on Christmas and invites him to Babs' Christmas party. Discovered silverwhittlingknife through their galaxy brained Dick & Tim meta essays, stayed for every single line of Chapter 2 ripping out my heart and roasting it over an open flame.

You coming over is possibly the only thing that’s gonna stop me from wanting to punch your dad in the face, Dick doesn’t say. My current Christmas Day plans are 1) pace around at home, and 2) try not to obsess about what Bruce is up to, so trust me, you’ll be an improvement, Dick doesn’t say. Tim's alone on Christmas Eve. Dick finds out, and fixes it.

nerve endings by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 5k (WIP), 2024) Post-Catalina Flores, Dick, Tim, and Bruce go on a (canon-accurate) cruise and dance around their open wounds. This is a glorious example of "he WOULD fucking say that", Dick's voice is so canon-accurate that the angst is even more painful i cri

It's all right, even, to have a foreign hand pressing against his skin, testing him, testing his reactions. He keeps his breathing controlled. Just Tim, damn you, it’s just Tim, don’t fuck it up. Dick's on a cruise with Bruce and Tim. And he's fine. Mostly.

Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 42k (WIP), 2022) Dick is sure the cryptic scribble in his agenda refers to something he's supposed to do for Damian, but he can't remember what. Mostly about Tim and Dick s l o w l y mending the post-Damian rupture in their relationship, but the whole family is here and Jason, especially, is fucking hilarious.

Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (… Though only after everything fell apart first.)

Gonna Be A Better One (A Thousand Miles To Your Door) by Traincat/@traincat (Teen & Up, 18k, 2011) Tim and Kon keep dating even after Jack forces Tim to retire as Robin. I reread this fic annually and every time am delighted to rediscover how funny and heartwarming and squee-inducingly kind it is, pure Timkon perfection.

In which Tim quits being Robin, Kon refuses to quit Tim and Ma Kent is full of relationship advice.

last light in a darkened room by bigdamnher0/@bigdvmnhero (Not Rated, 6k, 2024) Tim finds a distressing video of Robin!Dick and wishes that things were different. The whole fic, particularly Tim manifesting a happy ending in the bathroom, is a gorgeously crafted tragedy such that you're left kind of awed at how thoroughly massacred your heart and soul are post-read.

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage. Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus/@vinelark (Teen & Up, 91k (WIP), 2024) Superboy rescues civilian Tim Drake before learning that Tim is Robin and shenanigans ensue. I spent my whole holiday vacation intermittently screaming at this fic while my family members looked on with vague concern this fic is ADORABLE and AGONIZING and PERFECT please and THANK YOU.

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

[hsnlv]

unexpectedly yours. | p.sh

req!: I would love a fic about Sunghoon falling in love with the most unexpected person ever…. (the rest is here!)

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: sunghoon always thought he’d fall for someone quiet and delicate, but meeting you—wild curls, sun-kissed skin, and unmatched chaos—changes everything. as he falls deeper, he learns love isn’t what he expected; it’s better.

wc: 1.09k

a/n: this one, to me, IS VERY ADORBSSSS (especially towards the end🤭). and im sorry if what the request-er (?)wanted is not delivered as perfectly :( but i still love this and i hope you do too!! feedbacks and comments are highly appreciated (through inbox or comments idm!)💗 happy reading lovelies!!🎀 here’s my masterlist!

park sunghoon wasn’t the type to attend parties. but here he was, leaning against a kitchen counter, sipping a drink he didn’t like, wondering for the millionth time why he had let jake drag him here.

“you’re too cool for your own good,” jake had teased earlier. “seriously, hoon. maybe you’ll meet someone who makes you loosen up a little.”

sunghoon wasn’t in the mood to “loosen up.” parties weren’t his thing, and meeting people definitely wasn’t on his to-do list.

but then, he saw you.

you were hard to miss.

standing in the middle of the living room, you were laughing so hard your shoulders shook, a carefree sound that rose above the music. your skin glowed under the warm party lights—a rich, sun-kissed tone that made you look like summer incarnate.

your outfit wasn’t what anyone would call stylish, with your mismatched patterns and wild curly hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. but somehow, you looked radiant. untamed. completely, unapologetically yourself.

his gaze lingered longer than it should have. your body wasn’t what most people called “perfect”—soft in places he wasn’t used to seeing celebrated, your curves wrapped in confidence. you weren’t quiet or shy or delicate, the way he always thought his “type” would be.

and yet, you were magnetic.

he was so caught up in the way you threw your head back to laugh again, your curls bouncing wildly, that he didn’t notice jake sidling up beside him.

“she’s something, huh?” jake asked, smirking.

sunghoon blinked. “who?”

“don’t play dumb. the girl you’ve been staring at for, like, five minutes.”

“i wasn’t staring,” sunghoon said, looking away too quickly to be convincing.

“uh-huh. you should go talk to her.”

“she’s not my type.”

jake rolled his eyes. “your type is boring. she’s fun. go.”

sunghoon didn’t know why he listened. but before he could second-guess himself, his feet were already moving toward you.

you turned as he approached, your eyes wide and curious, and smiled like you were greeting an old friend.

hi,” she said, her voice light and playful. “you’re…” she tilted her head, studying him. “jake’s friend, right?”

“yeah. i’m sunghoon.”

she smiled, bright and unfiltered. “nice to meet you, sunghoon. i’m (y/n).”

he hesitated, then blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “you… like dancing?”

y/n squinted at him, as if trying to gauge if he was serious. “no, i hate it. that’s why i’ve been embarrassing myself for the past hour.”

sunghoon blinked, caught off guard by her sarcasm.

“you don’t talk much, do you?” she teased, leaning against the wall, her curly hair brushing her shoulders.

“i talk,” he said defensively.

“yeah? then say something interesting.”

he frowned, and she laughed again, clearly amused by his discomfort.

and just like that, she’d effortlessly disarmed him.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

weeks later

it didn’t take long for you to become a constant in sunghoon’s life.

you were a whirlwind of chaos and confidence, with your mismatched outfits, endless jokes, and unpredictable energy. where he was quiet, you were loud. where he was composed, you were messy.

and yet, he couldn’t imagine a day without you.

you made fun of his obsession with monochromatic outfits, teased him for being “too cool,” and somehow, you always knew how to make him laugh—even when he didn’t want to.

“so, what do you think?” you asked one day, holding up a floral skirt and a neon sweater.

sunghoon frowned. “i think i need a pair of sunglasses just to look at it.”

you gasped dramatically, clutching the clothes to your chest. “you wound me, park sunghoon.”

he smirked, throwing a pillow at you.

but beneath your teasing and chaotic energy, you had a way of grounding him.

it hit him hardest one night at a party, when someone made a rude comment about your body. before you could react, sunghoon was in front of you, his icy glare fixed on the guy.

“say that again,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

the guy stammered, trying to backtrack, but sunghoon didn’t let him off easy.

as soon as the guy walked away, you touched his arm gently. “hoon, you didn’t have to do that.”

he turned to you, his gaze softening instantly. “yes, i did.”

later that night, as you sat beside him on your couch, he turned to you. “don’t ever let anyone make you feel less than perfect.”

your eyes softened, and for once, you didn’t have a teasing reply.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

it was late, and the two of you were lying on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling.

“hoon?”

“hm?”

“you’re staring at me again.”

he blinked, realizing he’d been caught.

“you just… you’re hard to look away from,” he said softly.

you snorted. “was that supposed to be smooth?”

he rolled his eyes. “i’m being serious.”

“oh, okay. carry on.”

he sighed, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you properly. “you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

“yeah, we’ve established that. i’m chaotic and messy and all kinds of amazing.”

“you are,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you make me feel things i didn’t think i could feel. like… like it’s okay to be a little messy. like it’s okay to not have everything figured out.”

your eyes widened slightly, and he looked away, suddenly shy.

“you make me laugh, even when i don’t want to. you make me want to try things i’d never do otherwise. and you’re…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“hoon,” you interrupted, sitting up. “i’m dumb. please just say it.”

he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are. confessing your undying love for me.”

he smiled, soft and fond. “yeah, i guess i am.”

you grinned, leaning closer. “so say it properly.”

sunghoon reached out, tucking a curl behind your ear. his fingers lingered against your cheek, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“i’m in love with you,” he said, the words carrying more weight than you expected. “every chaotic, mismatched, unpredictable part of you. i don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”

you blinked, your heart skipping a beat.

“see?” you finally said, your voice wobbly but teasing. “was that so hard?”

he laughed softly, pulling you into his arms. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“i know,” you murmured against his chest, your smile wide.

and for the first time, park sunghoon felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2024

[gf2bellamy]

hi!!!! first off absolutely love your fics i’m obsessed :) !!! i was wondering if you could do something with steve harrington? (this is my first time requesting so i’m sorry it’s kinda wonky) but like maybe the user is almost attacked by a demogorgon and steve saves them? no pressure!! thank you!! :)

demogorgon — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of gun / knife and bat , description of demogorgon, reader trapped under demogorgon , takes place in szn 1 a/n: thank you so much for you request ! i hope you enjoy it <33 i dont't remember szn 1 all to well so apologies if anything is innacurate <3

Nancy’s voice was sharp but not unkind as she turned to Steve. “Just go home.” She pushed him out of the door and closed the door behind him.

It was probably for the best. Steve had looked like he was on the verge of a full-blown crisis, his eyes had darted between the shattered window and the flickering flashlight in Nancy’s hand.

But, then again, you weren’t exactly far from a meltdown yourself.

The difference was that you weren’t nearly as obvious about it as he was.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as Nancy practically pushed Steve out the door, her patience clearly at its limit.

He gave one last uncertain look over his shoulder, before turning on his heel and rushing to his car. 

You exhaled slowly, gripping the kitchen knife in your hand a little tighter. The weight of it was comforting, even if you weren’t entirely sure what good it would do against whatever might be lurking out there.

Nancy took a step forward, her flashlight sweeping over the dimly lit walls, and the three of you turned your heads at every creak and groan the old house made. 

And then, without warning, every light in the room flickered to life. 

The sudden brightness was almost blinding, and you instinctively raised a hand to shield your eyes. The colorful bulbs weren’t just glowing—they were flashing in a rapid, almost hypnotic pattern. 

Your grip on the knife tightened as your heart raced. “What the hell is this?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the lights. 

Nancy and Jonathan didn’t answer. They were too focused on the display, their eyes darting from one blinking light to another as if trying to make sense of the chaotic pattern. 

And then you felt it—a shift in the air, subtle but unmistakable.

Suddenly, Nancy’s scream ripped through the tense silence, shrill and panicked.

You barely had time to turn toward her voice before something slammed into you with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs.

Big, clawed hands—or what felt like claws—shoved you aside, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard floor. 

Your knife skittered from your grasp, but you scrambled to grab it, your fingers trembling as you turned to face the thing looming over you.

The demogorgon.

Its jagged, petal-like face stretched open, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, and its growl vibrated through the room. 

You held the knife up in a desperate attempt to keep it at bay, slashing wildly as it lunged toward you.

The blade barely fazed it, glancing off its thick, rubbery skin.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to crawl backward, but the demogorgon kept coming towards you, its claws swiping dangerously close to your face. 

Nancy’s voice cut through the chaos. “Get away !” she yelled, firing shot after shot at the creature. The bullets only seemed to enrage it, its attention flicking briefly toward her before returning to you. 

Jonathan grabbed a lamp from the nearby table and swung it with all his strength, the makeshift weapon shattering on impact.

It bought you a moment—just enough time to scoot back—but the creature barely flinched. It snarled, its claws slashing through the air as it stalked toward you again. 

You braced yourself, your hand gripping the knife tightly even though you knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, when suddenly Nancy’s voice broke through again, this time louder and filled with shock. 

“Steve!” 

Your head whipped toward the doorway just as Steve Harrington burst into the room, his familiar spiked bat in hand.

His eyes locked onto the demogorgon—and then onto you, sprawled on the floor with fear written all over your face. 

He charged forward with a ferocity you’d never seen from him before. The bat connected with the creature’s side with a sickening crunch, causing it to reel back momentarily. 

Steve didn’t stop. He swung again and again, his movements relentless, each strike landing with brutal precision. The demogorgon screeched, its claws flailing as it tried to fend him off, but Steve didn’t give it a chance to recover. 

“Are you okay?” he called over his shoulder, his voice breathless. 

You nodded shakily, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. “I’m fine!” you managed to say, even as your legs felt like jelly beneath you. 

The demogorgon staggered, weakened from Steve’s relentless assault. Jonathan seized the opportunity to shove the trap into place, heavy chains clanking as they fell into position.

Nancy tossed her emptied gun aside, grabbing a canister of lighter fluid from the table and dousing the creature with it. 

“Now!” she shouted, striking a match and throwing it into the trap. 

Flames erupted instantly, engulfing the demogorgon as it let out a deafening, inhuman shriek. The fire consumed it, the heat and smoke filling the room in seconds. 

Steve was at your side in an instant, helping you to your feet. His hands lingered on yours as he steadied you. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his brown eyes searching yours for any sign of injury. 

You nodded, a small, breathless laugh escaping you. “I think so. Thanks to you.” 

Steve gave you a crooked smile, still holding your hand as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go. “I wasn’t about to let that thing hurt you.” 

For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world fading away as you stood there with your hands entwined. His grip was strong but gentle. 

“Guys, let’s go!” Nancy’s voice jolted you back to reality. 

Steve kept a firm hold on your hand as the four of you ran out of the room, the demogorgon’s fiery trap blazing behind you.

And when you glanced at Steve, catching the slight grin he shot your way despite the madness of it all, you realized that maybe, just maybe, the night hadn’t been all bad. 

[slut4thebroken]

A Taste for Fear

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | He’s a vampire obsessed with fear. What more do I need to say?

Warnings | Technically non-con, but like there’s no smut yet, fear play, hunter/prey, gun?, idk

Words | 700+

Notes | I’m actually so exited for this concept because I’ve never seen it done before🤭 and yes I’m 100% going to make a part 2 <<3

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 10: hunter/prey + fear play

Becoming a vampire was one of the best things to ever happen to Jonathan. The abilities, heightened senses, the powers… There was hardly a negative aspect about it. 

He loved being able to smell fear, but his all time favorite thing was being able to taste it. The difference wasn’t too drastic, but he strongly preferred inducing fear before feeding. Plus, it wasn’t like it was very hard. All it took was just a glimpse of his red eyes or fangs for his victim to be practically paralyzed with fear.

He wasn’t originally planning on feeding tonight, but he could smell you from across the street and he just couldn’t resist. He could tell you were already on edge, no doubt due to walking the streets of Gotham at night as a woman. When you turned down an alley, he practically grinned— Of course a pretty thing like you would be stupid enough to go down a dark alley all alone.

He wanted to draw out the chase, intensify your fear, so he made his presence known. He kept a safe distance, but he knew you heard his footsteps when your heart started beating a little faster in your chest. As you reached in your purse, he could already smell the lead before you even pulled out the small revolver. He chuckled quietly to himself at that, but pretended to be oblivious. 

You turned a corner and a few seconds later he did the same, but paused when he saw you standing still, pointing the gun at him. 

“Why are you following me?” You asked, voice trembling almost as much as your hands. 

“Following you?” He asked innocently, tilting his head. As he continued stalking closer, you adjusted your grip on the gun and staggered back a few steps. “Easy there, sweetheart.” You immediately scowled at the patronizing tone and pet name. 

“Stop walking.” You ordered sternly— adorably. He humored you and slowed to a stop.  

“I’m trying to get somewhere.” He said, glancing past you to indicate the direction he ‘needed to go.’ You faltered, then started walking backwards, this time at an angle, closer to the wall so he could pass you. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on you and resumed moving closer. 

“Stop! I'll shoot!” The way you tried to sound threatening was almost endearing, but he could smell the sweat beading on your forehead. He said nothing and continued, making you stagger back even more, gasping when you hit the wall. “I’m serious!” Your heart was beating wildly in your chest and your breathing was quickly becoming ragged. 

When he was only a foot away, you squeezed your eyes shut and pulled the trigger, flinching at the loud sound of the gun. He froze and raised his brows, vexed by your audacity. You finally opened your eyes and he could see the moment your face paled in realization. He snatched the gun from your hand violently and threw it across the alley without ever breaking eye contact. 

“This was a new suit.” He said dryly. 

You opened and closed your mouth, struggling to find words when you still didn’t completely understand what just happened. “I,” your throat closed up when you tried to speak and he stepped even closer, his body barely an inch away now. When you still couldn’t speak, he tilted his head questioningly. 

Your bottom lip started to quiver as tears brimmed in your eyes, making his cock throb within the confines of his pants. He lifted his hand to brush the back of his finger over your cheek and you flinched away with a quiet sob, closing your eyes. You were trembling like a leaf and he cooed with fake sympathy, using his thumb to drag over your bottom lip. 

“Oh, I know… Poor thing, you must be so scared.” You let out a choked sob and pressed yourself firmly against the wall, trying uselessly to get some distance. His gaze was drawn to your neck and he could practically see the blood rushing through your veins. “You smell divine, my dear.” He purred, his voice already thick with arousal. You bit your lip, trying hard to repress your sobs as your heart thumped loudly in your chest. Honestly, you looked like you were about to start hyperventilating. 

“Now, I was taught not to play with my food before eating it… But personally, I think it tastes even sweeter, laced with fear.” He murmured, reluctantly drawing his gaze away from your neck. He took a step back and you didn’t move, but your eyes slowly fluttered open. “Run.” 

“What?” You choked out, your voice barely audible. 

“Run.” He grinned predatorily, finally showing off his fangs. “You better hope I don’t catch you.”

Part two

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi love! Congratulations and just fyi I LOVE this celebration theme! Could I get the palace, and reader and Remus doing this “018. falling into soft snow to create snow angels, flailing wildly on the ground.” Maybe with a semi reluctant Remus and a Christmas obsessed reader ??

“Wait dove.” Remus holds your waist as you try to slip out of the house without a coat. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

You’re a barely containable ball of energy. It’s finally snowed enough that you can make snow angels and you appreciate Remus’ diligence about your health, but the angels need to be made.

“Remmy, is all this necessary?” He lets a tiny smile loose.

He stamps a kiss to your head, “Go on, you’re ready.”

You turn to look at him as you open the door, “You’re coming right?”

Remus nods, setting his hat on his head as he walks out behind you.

The second you see the snow, you’re like a puppy finally let out. Remus watches as you practically dove into the snow.

“Dove, be careful.” He chided softly, but when you flip onto your back, snow speckling your hair, he can’t fight the fondness warming him up.

“Come make snow angels with me, Remus.”

His boots crunch on the snow as he comes closer to you but he doesn’t lie down in the snow right away.

When he doesn’t, you pout. “Please baby?”

“You’re such a little shit.” Remus lays down next to you and you kiss his cheek.

“You’re the best.” It doesn’t take long for your enthusiasm to rub off on him, Remus and yours snow angels lay side by side in your entire driveway, as he helps you up.

“Look at how cute they are.” You shiver, your hair wet and so are your pants.

“The cutest,” Remus dusts the snow from your jacket sleeves. “Let’s go warm up. If your hair stays wet any longer you’re gonna get a runny nose.”

“Will you blow dry it for me?” You ask sweetly, swinging yours and Remus hands as you walk up your stairs.

“You know I will, precious girl. Go get in the shower.”

Remus grabs his camera from the kitchen counter, walking back outside to get a few photos of the angels. He’s going to add it to your photo wall later.

“Remmy, can you make hot chocolate too?”

“With extra marshmallows.” He responds, setting the camera down and moving to put the milk on the stove.