#And yet he really cannot do much about it either...

[glassmitu]

Hi there Mitu my friend :3 and could you do my request i wonder if you can do forsaken survivor x Castorice!reader also headcanon or anything fluff romantic or platonic <33

Don't forget to take a break and don't overworked much my friend ! ^^

Masterlist — Forsaken

Request — Survivors with Caatorice!Reader, headcanons,,

⭑𓂃 ⌗ Staff — HAII <33,,omg hsr mention hehe,, also this is max 8 characters since i write 8 characters if it is cast or something <3

NOOB

𖣠 Noob thinks you are really pretty and helpful! But they feels bad for you, since you cannot touch them or anyone in general,

𖣠 They'll talk to you only, trying to keep their distance with you in the physical form,

𖣠 They'll read books with you whenever they can, they were suprised when they found out you read wlw books,,

GUEST 1337

𖣠 For guest 1337,he thinks you are really heplful yet pitiful, he could tell that you wish to fit in,

𖣠 Which he chooses to talk to you before or after rounds whenever he can, he knows the feeling of outcast too,

𖣠 Overall, he'll talk about his experiences with you whenever you mention your experiences, your bond is like older brother and younger sister,

ELLIOT

𖣠 Elliot often makes extra pizzas because of your death touch, it's not only for others but for you too,

𖣠 He'll be quite worried about you, since you drop yourself to the killer in order to protect the urvivors, causing yourself to lose health,

𖣠 He's one of the people that doesn't talk to you, in order to not get too close to you,

SHEDLETSKY

𖣠 Shedletsky would challenge you into combat, which you often declines but gives in when his asking gets too overwhelming.

𖣠 He'll take your scythe too, he's quite interested in it, since you often summon your weapon from your blood,

𖣠 Overall, he doesn't listen to your warnings to stay away, often trying to pat your head,

CHANCE

𖣠 Oh they would try getting closer to you, physical and mentally either way,

𖣠 They'll often talk to you, overall you listen to them most of the time,

𖣠 in rounds, they'll mostly talk to you, even though your warnings to them be quiet,

TWO TIME

𖣠 Two time thinks you are blessed by other spawn, which makes them want you to join the cult,

𖣠 They'll ask about your spawn, even though you don't know what or who the spawn is,

𖣠 Overall, you two are like opposites, not personality and all, but your will to live.

BUILDERMAN

𖣠 Builderman would talk to you here and there when needed, he values you as helpful,

𖣠 Sometimes, he would pat your head without even giving a thought, he'll apologize after realizing it,

𖣠 Overall, he would use your help to build something in the meantime of rounds,

007n07

𖣠 In 007n7's opinion, he feels quite bad for you, you were forbidden to feel any sort of physical touch,

𖣠 you two only talk here and there when you need to in rounds, it's really awkward,,

𖣠 Overall, he keeps his distance with you like he does with others.

© GLASSMITU ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own account on tumblr

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “think pink”, a.k.a “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it”. content notes: Dom/sub and some low-key exhibitionism/voyeurism. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Yeah,” Kon says, less agreeing with Tim and more just confirming that he’d heard him. Because, like . . . it wasn’t a question, so he doesn’t have to agree or disagree or have any opinion about it at all. 

He could ask why Tim thinks Bernard should go first or why Tim thinks he shouldn’t go first, but like . . . it wasn’t a question, so why would he? 

“That alright with you, babe?” Tim asks, and that’s actually a question, and he’s looking at Bernard like the guy does have an opinion that matters; like Kon’s not even a relevant part of the conversation anymore. Like it doesn’t matter what he thinks or does, because it’s only going to be what Tim wants him to think and do anyway. 

Something in Kon just fucking melts over that idea. 

Fuck, he really wants to suck the bastard off. Or–kiss him, he guesses. 

He still can’t figure out the difference there.

But the difference only matters if Tim asks him which one he wants anyway, and Tim’s not asking. And Kon’s not even a relevant part of the conversation anymore, so he doesn’t even have to worry that Tim might. The only thing he has to even kind of care about is being good while Tim and Bernard get him . . . “cleaned up”, whatever that may or may not actually involve, and even that���like, even that, obviously Tim’ll tell him what he’s supposed to do for it, so . . . 

So yeah. Literally nothing to worry about. He just gets to be here and not matter ‘til he’s useful enough to matter, and then if he’s good enough, Tim’ll let him suck him off. Like–that was what he’d said, right? He’d curled his fingers in under his jaw without even looking at him and said . . . 

'Not yet, pet. But if you can be good while we get you all cleaned up, I’ll let you go down on me again.'

Kon doesn’t even think it was the eidetic memory that he still remembers that order of an offer word for word, but either way he definitely remembers the way Tim’d told him not to bother getting dressed after, because he wasn’t gonna let him wear anything ‘til Monday anyway. 

Kon maybe needs to not remember that right now, though, because, like–Jesus fuck, Tim. 

“Yeah, that’s alright, but like–fuck, Dionysus fucking Eleutherius liberate me,” Bernard mutters very, very feelingly, half-covering his face with a hand. Kon’s a little too distracted to be figuring out what he’s talking about, since he’s gotten maybe kinda fixated on staring at Tim and also since Tim’s already catching Bernard by the hips to tug him in against himself and kiss him. Bernard resists the tugging for a half-second before he goes with it–not like, actual resistance, just a little moment of tensing muscle, just like a reflex response or something, though Kon has no idea how anyone could have that reflex when it was Tim who was moving them somewhere. 

Like, obviously he’s biased because of all the lying to Batman and the government and the Justice League and definitely the DEO, and probably like how that one Hypertime version of him became Robin after his Tim went and fucking died on him and definitely like how his Tim went around deliberately wearing his colors after Kon’d gone and fucking died on him too, and also the thing with the growing up to become asshole supervillains together in more than one timeline pretty much just because Tim had apparently thought it was a good idea and Kon had apparently just agreed with him, which admittedly is something Kon still cannot actually say he would not potentially do, and also making that one Christmas suicide pact and then watching Santa Claus die in their places and then getting stuck delivering all his stupid leftover presents for the next, like, four friggin’ months or whatever, and like . . . all that. 

. . . okay, fine. But still, objectively Kon just doesn’t get it. 

. . . . . . okay, so he’s definitely incapable of “objective” about Tim, especially while he’s gay and horny and naked and Tim is ignoring him to kiss his boyfriend like Kon didn’t just tell them both he could feel it when they did that, so like . . . 

Jesus fucking fuck, Kon thinks as he watches and feels them keep kissing each other, and really wishes they’d both let him suck their cocks right now. Like–Kon doesn’t actually know if that’s even a thing that’d work, but he would definitely give it the ol’ dropped-out-of-high-school try. He would so, so happily be on his knees giving both their dicks all the attention said dicks so goddamn richly deserve while Tim and Bernard themselves just spent however long they felt like on kissing each other and ignoring him for it, except to maybe, like–he doesn’t know, maybe pet his hair a little somewhere in there. Just . . . absentmindedly, or placatingly, or . . . 

Everybody’s always telling him what a big fucking mouth he’s got anyway, right? 

But Tim didn’t actually tell him to do that, so instead Kon just stays right where he is and waits, his dick definitely starting to feel a little over-optimistic again, and thinks . . . 

Well. He did tell them he could feel it when they kissed, and now they’re kissing right in front of him again. 

So that’s, like . . . permission, right? Like–to feel it? 

Like . . . it kinda seems like it is, anyway. 

He gets the answer there pretty quick either way, because then Tim shifts the hand he has on Bernard’s face to tuck his fingers in under his jaw and curl them in under his chin, and Kon feels that and–

“Does that feel nice too, Kon?” Tim asks lightly, not pulling back or even glancing away from Bernard as he asks, and Kon burns alive.

Okay, yeah: that was a question. 

“Yeah,” he manages roughly, and Bernard half-groans and puts a hand over Tim’s mouth. 

“Fuck you, Tim,” he swears vehemently. 

But he doesn’t swat Tim’s hand away from his jaw, or tell him not to do that kind of shit. 

Tim smirks, just a little, and then curls his fingers in under Bernard’s chin again; scratches light and soft and gentle with his knuckles just shy of the other’s Adam’s apple, and Kon can’t help swallowing. It’s . . . 

It doesn’t feel like it’s happening to him, really, just . . . like, either way he can still feel it happening. 

And Tim, like, very fucking obviously wants him to be feeling it happen.

[katerinaaqu]

I was reading some of your Odysseus's analysis and I love how you brought up his religious facet because I really think is a big part of who he is as an person and how it affects his decisions, specially during the war. To me Odysseus had always been the king of Compartmentalization; he is the one that is able to push his emotions down in order to act accordingly to whatever he thinks can please the Gods at any given moment, and thus save himself and his allies at the process- the problem is that he is human and Compartmentalization can only bring you so far so ofc it would eventually come to eat on him... that is essentially what a big chunk of the Odessy is for. Particularly when he was with Calypso- like OBVIOUSLY the constant abuse played a huge role on his dumpster fire of an mental health but the fact he was completely stagnant without the capacity to jump from one task to the other couldn't had helped matters either....

☝️☝️☝️ THIS MY DEAR ANON SIMPLY THIS ☝️☝️☝️

For starters I am really honored that you liked my analysis and that you saw exactly what I wanted to convey with that potential of Odysseus and that part of his character that everyone seems to forget; his religious nature and how he is literally living his life in the religious piousness

And I couldn't have said it better myself! Yes he does push his emotions down, suppresses them even, when gods speak. When gods demand, humans should shut the fuck up and respond accordingly, that seems to be Odysseus's motto in life. The gods demanded Iphigenia, the gods should have Iphigenia, no matter how bad Odysseus might feel or not feel so his emotions of sorrow or regret come second before his need to obey the gods. Then the gods demanded that they stop attacking the walls of Troy? Odysseus would turn the heel around and run! It doesn't matter if Diomedes is there. If he chooses to disobey the gods is his problem and his choice. Circe demands this price to set his men free? Yeah he would sell his body to get it. Calypso had to have him in order to secure his survival? Yeah Odysseus would do it. The gods demand from him to do a trip to the ends of the world to repent his hubris? Odysseus will damn well be on a new ship and sail there or walk there for all the world is concerned he has to see that thing through no matter what.

This is why he did what he did in the times before or during the war. This is why he chose to stay behind for retribution sacrifices to the gods and why he came back for Agamemnon even if he desired nothing else than go home with his fleet but is also this blind faith that has him being beloved by the gods like Athena or Zeus.

However like it happens with someone who has way too much religious zeal obviously the results can be catastrophic to yourself and to others in a practical manner. I mean Odysseus too paid the price for he was always hated secretly by his peers for his behavior to please the gods because in the eyes of everyone he did it just to get glory or just because he is who he is. Odysseus might have had some ulterior motive about himself or the others but it seems that his religious beliefs play a huge part in the way he conducts himself in regards to the interactions he has with others which is another reason why I am sad that I do not see more people talk about it or representing in their stories and work or that makes me happy when more people see the potential of!!!

As for the last part I am actually very intrigued by this interpretation indeed!!!! And if I am allowed an addition, it is also why he is desperate. He is paying the price, he is pleasing the goddess...and yet he cannot escape. As you said he remains stagnant. Unlike his case with Circe where he receives her trust and her knowledge and later her help with Calypso he just receives his survival for another day. The price he pays will not get him anywhere and that is definitely NOT a good thing for his already crumbling psyche indeed and it COULD be another reason why death seems his only way out at that point.

Because nothing he used to go by in his life works anymore

His piousness was stained by hubris. His decisions to please the gods did nothing for him (or so it seemed to him) and his unpleasant sacrifices brought the fate upon him. He is desperate and he is alone. If I dare use the parallel "he opened his legs for her" and has nothing in return out of his situation. And he has no way out. His brains, his wisdom, his tactics or even his schemes are not doing anything for him and neither are his prayers or his sacrifices and attempts to please this goddess work! It DEFINITELY has a lot of potential as a line of thought and adds even more confusion to his already confused mind!

Thank you Anon for this great addition!

[miraculous-ninjabird]

Thinking about how Feng Xin, Xie Lian, and Mu Qing all betrayed each other in their own ways following the fall of Xianle.

We are all familiar with the retainer's failures during this time.

Feng Xin's betrayal stems directly from his departure. It may have ultimately been the best choice from him but the fact remains that he made a vow to stay and he didn't. Even it it was Xie Lian who ultimately told him to leave, it's obvious he never believed he actually would, and Feng Xin has carried guilt over this ever since. Being the correct choice for him personally does not change how hurt Xie Lian is by the fact the one person he thought would stay didn't.

Mu Qing, on the other hand, did not betray anyone when he left. He made no such vow to stand by Xie Lian's side and thus it wasn't a betrayal for him to chose to leave in order to prioritize his mother. His betrayal entirely stems from the events that took place on the mountain. Xie Lian was going through the worst time of his life, just trying to get by, and ended up getting ganged up on by gods. Mu Qing saw this and did nothing out of fear of the retribution he might face from the other heavenly officials. His later assistance comes too little too late for Xie Lian who is hurt by being turned on by someone who he saw as a friend.

I see less talk about how Xie Lian isn't an innocent victim in this fallout either. His on form of betrayal comes in the form of his own short sightedness. He's so caught up in how the situation affects him specifically that he doesn't give much care for the others who are supporting him. He fails to recognize that Mu Qing and Feng Xin have lost all the same things he has-their home, their godhood, and their dignity. He sees them as friends, yes, but he still somewhat expects them to stay and act as his retainers even when doing so is ultimately harmful to their relationship. He is difficult to interact with, pushes them away, and gets irrationally upset when they don't live up to the idea of what he thinks they should be. He lies and retreats in on himself when he should be more open and trusting than ever because he just can't let go of the idea of being above the perceived expectations of what he should be. He betrays them by refusing to see.

The tragedy of it all is that you cannot blame any of them for the tragedy of this. They all made poor decisions in the depths of the darkest time of their lives that could be justified from their own viewpoints. It breeds empathy.

Xie Lian being to horrifically distraught after everything to function is an understandable reaction. Mu Qing refusing to assist Xie Lian because he can't risk his new position and the ability to assist it provides is an understandable reaction. Feng Xin leaving when told to go because while he is loyal, he can't bear to watch as Xie Lian continues to tear himself apart is understandable.

Tragic, yet inevitable. I like the way the story doesn't just forever sperate them due to resentment, but I also like how that everything isn't just magically better once they get a chance to talk it out. Mistakes were made, harm was caused, and there is no fixing that but there is moving forward and I really really love that message.

[namelessgoose]

Travel related headcanons for the papas! ✈️🌴

I started these when I had down time traveling a while back and I just remembered I did that so I finished it up and yeah!! This is my first time writing out something like this to post so … be nice 😅

Nihil:

- He throws a bunch of random things in his bag with no sense of organization and then needs someone else to fix it for him and will complain about how they organize it because “he had a system” (there was no system)

- He takes his sweet time in the TSA line, no sense of urgency at all. If his bag gets stopped he immediately starts arguing.

- On the actual trip, he cannot stick to a schedule, he’s the least punctual person in existence.

Primo:

- He’s very preplanned and organized without having to put in much effort. He’s able to pack right before he leaves and packs pretty minimally.

- His bags get through TSA easily, that’s not to say that he doesn’t have anything illegal on him. He has his ways. Don’t worry about it!

- HATES airports. Too many loud people who can’t figure out how to do simple things.

- He doesn’t do anything on the plane. He just sits there. What’s he thinking about? Who knows.

- His trips are generally for business only, he doesn’t enjoy traveling very much. Though, he will stop to see the nature of the area if there’s some.

Secondo:

- Secondo is absolutely an overpacker, but denies it completely. But not in the “i’m bringing 10 pairs of underwear just in case I shit my pants every single day” way, no. Like he’s bringing 5 different kinds of cologne and way too many outfit choices (thinking about that one picture where he’s in that very eccentrically decorated room that was scrapped from Papaganda i believe) And he is able to give serious rationale for everything he brings.

- Hates airports just as much as Primo. His bag gets stopped at TSA every time without fail for absolutely no reason.

- I don’t think he travels much outside of clergy duties BUT if he has to go on a trip for business, he absolutely makes the most out of it… he might get a bit distracted and not fulfill some of the business duties.

Terzo:

- Terzo is packed and planned WELL in advance. He knows exactly what he’s wearing everyday and has alternate outfits depending on the weather. He has all of his essentials and his bag is well organized. He always makes reservations with timed out schedules, but isn’t afraid to deviate from the plan to do what he feels like at that moment.

- Though, he really doesn’t like planes. Not that he’s scared of them, the elevation just gives him a headache. He brings a book to read to try to distract himself, but it usually doesn’t work very well.

- Even if a trip is technically for business, he’s able to make the absolute best of it. I think he’d like to travel for pleasure as well. Honestly, I think he would be the best to travel with.

Copia:

- Unlike Secondo, he is definitely the “packing 10 pairs of underwear just in case i shit my pants every single day” type of packer. Overpacks because you never know what could happen. And even with his overpacking, he definitely forgets something essential and has to get it overpriced at the airport. He also procrastinates packing until the last minute which doesn’t help either.

- Doesn’t like sleeping at hotels. Hell, he has trouble sleeping at home. The cold and unfamiliar hotel room is definitely not going to help him out in that regard.

- He only travels for clergy business, so it’s all planned for him. He tries so hard to adhere to what he’s supposed to do that he stresses himself out. He’s able to get it all done though, despite the chaos.

- His ghouls make sure he lets himself relax and actually enjoy the trip at some point when there’s time so he’s not just overworking himself.

Perpetua:

ngl i don’t have a great grasp on his character yet, i can’t wait until i see him at my ritual!!!

- He seems like the type who comes off very planned and put together, but is totally just going off vibes.

- I have a feeling that those claws aren’t getting though TSA easily

Wow you made it to the end! I’m not really anticipating anyone really reading this lmao BUT if anyone wants any of these ideas developed some more or if you have any of your own travel related hcs for them, feel free to drop something in my ask box :3

[acgames]

Because Morrowind initially is about reincarnation shtick, my favorite Nerevarine concept will always be them looking somewhat like Nerevar or exactly like his copy if Nerevarine is a Mer.

Idk why, I just love it.

[forcedhesitation]

I'm. nearly finished the cosmetic contest video. after...almost 13 hours of non-stop editing...

there is not even any respite from this madness in my immediate future...as corydalis' birthday is technically next week OTL

[elainemorisi]

man truly does mortgage his soul for Daniel, damn

[gaykarstaagforever]

YouTube has this thing now called YouTube Playables (great name as usual, guys; it's not a children's snack pack), that are basically in-app "Flash games"-style things that are just enough game to keep you watching ads.

The ones of these that aren't direct ripoffs of owned IP (very specifically Zuma) are barebones exercises in that bog-standard FTP addictive mobile gaming loop we all know and hate but also LOVE, minus the in-app purchases (for the time being). Like, shallow systems that are fun for exactly 30 minutes, then get stupidly hard so you'll pay to win, though you can't do that yet, so...kind of pointless.

...I still spent FOUR HOURS playing these, because they tapped into my primitive lizard brain's desire to try and master an utterly meaningless task and then feel undooly smug about it.

I didn't get any ads, because I'm a stooge that pays real money to Google every month for this, because once you go adless, you CANNOT go back. Which kind of negates the whole point of these, as addictive time-wasters that keep you glued to the platform and its commercials? But I already pay for YouTube and STILL got caught in these, so I suppose everything is going according to YouTube's plan either way, and I need meaningful human relationships.

But THAT isn't going to happen any time soon! So let me waste another evening on these by reviewing some crap garbage games for idiots that no one cares about, on Tumblr dot com!

1. Totemia: Cursed Marbles

It's Zuma. That's it. With a couple minor tweaks that make it harder and more annoying.

Just license Zuma, YouTube. I think you can afford the, what, $25 that would cost atm?

2. Sword Play

An on-rails sword slashing game (you don't control the movement, just the slashing), and you kill plastic doll guys before they kill you.

At some point they get projectiles that move really fast, that you can only destroy via specific directional QTEs that don't register properly half the time, because this is all relative finger smearing across the screen.

It was fun before that. The guys fall apart specific to how you slash them. That's something.

3. Dessert DIY

This one sucks. You're just picking from very limited options, then doing specific motions to trigger animations that create desserts that don't even look much like the promo art. People request different things, but early game all they ask for is "whatever you want to make" and "do one out of poop with bugs on it to make someone I hate throw up."

And then there's an animation of someone accepting what is obviously poop with bugs on it from their sworn enemy, they eat it anyway, then vomit.

The only fun part about this is the shameless inclusion of NPCs that look like celebrities, specifically Billie Eilish, Kanye West, and Donald Trump.

If you want to make a poop ice cream cone with bugs on it and feed it to Trump until he vomits all over his desk, this is the game for you. Otherwise, this is meh even for one of these meh games.

4. Bowmasters

Dueling Angry Birds, but you have no control of the camera and it focuses on you so you have to trial-and-error the degree of angle and throwing force to figure out how to hit and kill your opponent before they hit and kill you.

There are many colorful pop culture-inspired combatants to unlock, with a huge variety of projectiles of different weights, sizes, and behaviors. This is the most "very nearly a real, good game" one of these.

...Except that the level progression forces you to do Bonus Rounds, and one of those is "knock fruit off the head of an opponent without hitting them, and you have to do this like 5 times in a row, and we move you further away from them another 30 yards every round, and you have to use a wildly different unique projectile every round, and you get 3 chances, and that includes if you miss entirely."

It is basically impossible to do this, because your ever-changing location makes calculating arcs and force, with the ever-changing projectiles, impossible, in this limited amount of attempts. It turns into grinding it out until RNG randomly makes you win.

Which is a shame, because otherwise, this is fun. But you WILL get stuck on a stupid fruit round and stop playing this.

5. Mob Control

You have a cannon that launches blue guys. The NPC opponent does red. You both are trying to bumrush the other's base, taking advantage of buttons and switches and bonus gates that speed you up or slow you down and multiply your number of guys. Guys annihilate each-other when they run into each-other, so you need to overwhelm Red before they overwhelm you.

It's fun until it gets so fast that it becomes a chore to manage where precisely to launch guys specifically to annihilate other guys.

6. Merge Master

This goddamn game. This was 3.5 hours of my 4 hour playtime.

You have a grid board, with you at the bottom and an opponent at the top. You both have an army of warriors and dinosaurs, and a team HP bar. You click go, the warriors fire projectiles and the dinosaurs melee the nearest enemy, and last man standing wins.

Before each round, you can arrange the placement of your army, and use money you won from the last rounds to buy more warriors and dinosaurs. But the kicker is, you can combine like warriors and dinosaurs to make more powerful units, which you keep at the end of every round. They don't gain XP or anything, but as you make more money, you can buy more 1st-level units (that's all you can buy), and gradually combine them and then combine the combinations, and on and on and on, making incredibly powerful new units. And you need a mix of low-level and high-level units to have enough melee dinosaurs and projectile-throwers to overwhelm high-level enemy units, or draw fire away from your own, against the ever-changing enemy army each round.

It's a process of slowly adding more units and combining them to make stronger and stronger units, and as many of them as you can get, accounting for the limited board space. Also the price of units rises exponentially each round, so you may have 1 trillion gold, but at this point a new 1st-level dinosaur costs 245 billion.

I couldn't stop with this. It just got me. I wanted to see new exciting high-level warriors and dinosaurs, and see how fast I could take the other army down. There's more than zero strategy at work here, and battles can vary substantially from round to round, depending on what mix of units the enemy brings to the board.

It's still a rudimentary Flash-esque game, and very much akin to those shitty mobile boss rush games that raid our shadow legends. But it's not PTW yet, and the graphics are a charming and distorted replica of early 2000s 3D games, like Age of Mythology or GTA 3. It felt like something, for awhile.

It isn't, and I wasted valuable battery charge on this stupid shit. But I was having fun. And sometimes, that's enough.

...And posting about it here. It's something to talk about that isn't the world eating itself.

And we all need that sometimes.

[lovingpiastri]

thinking 'bout balmy beach days with oscar

there's an underlying feeling that lives with in me, that oscar only takes a dip in the ocean when in australia. in any other country, he avoids it like the plague despite the waters being exceptionally safer.

you, on the other hand are paranoid of australian waters. the fear of an accidental sting from a blue bottle could send you into cardiac arrest. oscar calls you melodramatic, but doesn't mind at all carrying you through the water, as long as your feet do not touch the sand below.

the sun exposure isn't a joke either. your habit of forgetting to apply sunscreen has multiple times resulted in burns that you complain about for days. oscar, who always finds him on the receiving end on all the whining about your pain, is the one who now without fail softly massages it into your skin before you randomly embark into a beach nap.

on the rare occasion when oscar falls into a deep slumber, you collect a small array of seashells and place them onto his muscular back. a sight you've gotten more than used to in the months you've been together. shortly after you manage to forget about them, not without capturing a pinterest worthy photo. but when he awakes, the seashell tan lines are evident, yet you don't have the heart to tell him about it. though it's pretty in a way.

his borderline tanned back sugar coated with specks of sand, paired with minor sea shell tan lines.. it just all appeared so weirdly romantic. it was a sight for sore eyes, you adored it all too much, even flustering a little due to his toned muscular back. the same back that your nails knew all too well, allowing themselves to explore during your most intimate times.

woah! every nerve in your body was thumping up and down, desiring to force your eyes away from your boyfriend.. who was apparently sculpted by the greek god's themselves? oh and the sunlight was kissing his skin just right!

"love, are you sure you put enough sunscreen on your face.. it's going a bit red?" oscar's voice was just so sweetly caring, if digested it would probably rot your teeth beyond repair.

slowly you regain all sense of reality, planting your fingers gingerly onto your cheeks for any sensation of burning tingles.. but there was not a single bit of it anywhere. was your face tinted really that red from simply admiring your boyfriend? oh and the dryness infecting your tongue, that has to be from dehydration.. right?

"uhh.. yes i did!" you speak out, feeling irreparably parched. come on, seriously!?

as much as you try, your eyes cannot peel away for a second. it's grown beyond just oscar's broad back. the subtle happy trail peaking from below his trunks was enough to kill a victorian child. or you for the matter.

once you do look away, the image replays in your mind everlastingly. oh how you would just love to just follow that trail down to- HALT!

if those murderous blue bottles wouldn't take your life, then surely your boyfriend would instead.

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[trashytracktales]

AND softdom lando with slightly unexperienced reader!!!! kill me nowwwe it cannot live only in my head

Nothing less | LN⁴

💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── No, cause you know what, anon? Let me do something about it real quick (I changed some things around on purpose, because I either go hard or go home lmao). ENJOY 💋

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── It's their first time together, and Lando takes the lead, ensuring every touch and word is focused on her comfort and pleasure.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x virgin!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 catetegory ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, reader's first time, new relationship dynamics, soft dom!Lando, fluff & smut, descriptive language, swearing, unprotected sex, subtle exploration of emotional and physical trust in an intimate setting.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.8k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 26, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Gentle reminder that I know I have a lot of requests I need to take care of, and they are going to be dealt with, slowly but surely. Thank you for your patience 😁🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

SHE THINKS SHE should tell him, but she doesn’t know him well enough to be sure that Lando isn’t easily scared — or worse, that he wouldn’t walk out on her the second her little secret gets out.

They’ve only been dating for two weeks, but somehow it feels longer than that. Obviously, they’ve talked about sex before — casually, the way new couples do when everything still feels exciting and full of possibilities. But she never told him outright that she’s a virgin. He never specifically asked, and she didn’t see a way to bring it up without making things awkward.

In the midst of her chaotic thoughts, two things are certain: 1) she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, and 2) there’s no doubt he likes her. She sees it in the way Lando looks at her, and she feels it in the way his hands touch her: sometimes by accident, other times with intent.

That's why she doesn’t want to burden him with expectations or make him feel like he has to change to meet some unspoken standard. She wants him as he is: unfiltered, imperfect, and real.

It's almost midnight, and the room is drenched in a quiet intimacy, the only sound coming from the muted hum of the city outside. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against hers with deliberate slowness. The soft golden glow of the bedside lamp illuminates his face, accentuating the way his lips curve into a smile that’s equal parts teasing and tender.

“You’ve been quiet,” he murmurs, his voice a smooth drawl that makes her stomach flip. His thumb strokes over her palm, coaxing her to meet his gaze. “That nervous?”

Her breath catches in her throat, feeling it closing in from the inside, but she nods, not trusting her voice.

“That’s okay, baby,” says Lando gently, leaning in. The warmth of his breath fans against her skin as his lips ghost over her jawline. “I want to take care of you. Can I do that?”

She nods again, her heart thudding against her rib. But the way Lando is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters, eases some of the tension coiling in her chest.

She really thinks that she should tell him—

“Words, love,” he interrupts her thoughts, his tone soft yet firm. Lando's hand tilts her chin up so she’s looking directly at him. “I need to hear you, so I know we're on the same page.”

“Yes, Lando,” she replies back, his name dripping from her mouth like honey. “I want this with you.”

His smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes — desire tempered with a bit of restraint. “Sweet girl,” he says softly, the praise rolling off his tongue like a caress.

She closes her eyes, the words making her cheeks flush, but they also spark something inside her, a yearning she’s never felt so acutely before.

The air between them feels charged with so much expectancy. She knows where this is heading, can feel it in the way his eyes linger on hers, in the heat of his touch that seems to burn through her skin. The thought alone forces a wave of excitement rolling through her. At that, her body reacts before her mind catches up — her breaths quicken, her thighs press together instinctively, and a warm, insistent ache blooms low in her belly. She’s wet already, just from the anticipation, her thoughts spiraling into images of Lando gasping for air above her.

She shakes her head to push those thoughts away, just as he pulls her closer, his hands steady and confident as they frame her face. When he kisses her, his lips are so soft, moving against hers in a way that leaves no room for doubt. He’s in control, but he’s also completely attuned to her.

“If you need me to stop,” he says against her lips, “If anything feels wrong, just tell me, and we'll talk about it. Gonna need your words for this, yeah?” he continues as she nods again, making Lando puff out a small giggle, “What did I say?”

Words. Right.

“I promise I'll tell you,” she says, her voice tinged with nervousness.

He hums in approval, his hands sliding down to her waist. He moves her gently, guiding her to lie back on the bed as he leans over her. His movements are measured, his touch firm but never overwhelming. When his hands skim beneath her shirt, she tenses for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, and Lando immediately freezes.

“Hey,” he says softly, his brow furrowing in concern. “Too much?”

“No,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I just— I’ve nev—”

He doesn’t let her finish. His thumb strokes soothing circles against her hip as he leans down to kiss her again, silencing her nervous stammer.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “We’ll go slow, alright? You and I. Just trust me.”

His words are like a balm, and she finds herself relaxing under his touch. He takes his time removing her shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as if to reassure her with every move.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says, his voice low and reverent.

Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for him, and he lets her take the lead for a moment, watching her with a quiet intensity as she unbuttons his shirt. She fumbles slightly, and he chuckles, the sound soft and warm.

“Relax, love. It’s just me,” he says, leaning down to kiss her temple; a small act of tenderness that somehow steadies her racing heart.

The warmth of his lips lingers, grounding her in the moment as her nerves begin to settle. When there's no barrier left between them, Lando's hands explore her body patiently, every touch giving her goosebumps. Then, his fingers travel lower, slipping between her legs, and he freezes in place, his breath hitching.

“Ah, shit,” he mumbles mostly to himself, almost in awe when he realizes how much of a mess she is already. “So eager, you're soaked. I could just slip right in.”

The words send a bolt of heat through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement, but they also give her enough courage to take action. Summoning all her nerve, she reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his cock with a tentative but determined grip.

She guides him to her entrance, her voice quiet but impatient as she whispers, “Then do it.”

Suddenly, that's more than enough for Lando to let his instincts take over.

He exhales sharply as he pushes forward, the heat of her drawing him in inch by inch. The sensation of her wrapped around his length nearly undoes him — soft, tight, and impossibly warm. His jaw clenches as he stills for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He presses his forehead to hers, his voice strained but tender.

“So damn tight around me, baby,” he gasps softly, his hand coming to rest on her hip. “How's it on your end? Can I move?”

She nods quickly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she adjusts to the sweet stretch. “It’s—”

Good. Perfect. Heaven.

“Didn’t feel as big in my hand,” she ends up saying, making Lando laugh in a high-pitched voice.

“Not sure weather it's a compliment or an insult,” he admits, amused.

“Just give me a sec,” she whispers, though there’s a slight trace of uncertainty in her tone.

His thumb begins to stroke soothing circles on her hip, and he kisses the corner of her mouth. “Take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her.

She lets out a shaky breath, her body gradually relaxing around him. With one hand, she traces the contours of Lando's face, studying every micro expression, every mole, and the way his breath hitches as she welcomes him in.

“You're perfect,” she says softly, her cheeks flushed with warmth. “Can you fuck me now?”

Lando whines, pulling back slightly before easing forward again, setting a slow, careful rhythm. The friction is intense, almost overwhelming, and he groans quietly, his grip on her hips tightening just a fraction.

Her lips part as a soft moan escapes her, and she tilts her head back, instinctively pushing her hips to meet his movements. “Lando,” she breathes, her voice a mix of need and disbelief.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, his tone laced with affection. “Tell me what you like, what feels good. Let me hear you, baby.”

“You,” she manages, her fingers threading through his hair. “It feels so—You feel so good. All of it, please.”

The corners of his mouth raise into a small, breathless smile. “Such a good girl, aren't you?” he praises, leaning down to kiss her neck as he resumes his thrusts. “You’re doing so well for me.”

Her nails dig lightly into his back, her confidence growing with each movement.

“Faster,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a foreign desire.

His brows raise slightly as he slows down, just to tease her. “Faster? You sure about that?” he asks, his voice taking on a playful edge.

“Lando,” she repeats his name, louder this time, her hips rolling against his.

“You want it that bad?” he says in slight disbelief, his movements speeding up just enough to draw a louder moan from her. Lando studies her closely, his gaze softening even as his control threatens to slip. “Look at you, fuck. Let me take care of you. Let me—”

He swallows his words as his starts thrusting into her, firmly but never rough, his touch always calibrated to her responses.

“God, you’re taking me so well,” he says, his lips brushing against her ear. “So hot and tight around me. Feels right, hm?”

Her breathing quickens at his words, her body responding in ways she doesn’t fully understand but craves nonetheless. His hands trail lower, and she arches into him instinctively, another whimper escaping her lips.

“I know, baby,” he says, his voice thick with approval. “Keep me inside.”

Lando’s rhythm falters, then slows to an almost torturous pace. Before she can question it, he drags his cock out of her entirely, leaving her pussy clenching around nothing. A cry slips from her lips, desperate and aching, but he doesn’t give her time to protest. His length glides up between her slick, puffy folds, spreading the wetness everywhere, his movements calculated and teasing.

Not to mention evil.

“Lan...” she whines, her nails digging into his back as frustration and need overwhelm her. She isn’t gentle, her fingers pressing hard enough to sting, and he lets out a low hiss.

At the sudden pain, Lando stops entirely, his eyes snapping to hers, dark and intense. “Careful, baby,” he warns, his tone soft but laced with authority.

Sitting up slightly, he reaches for a pillow, lifting her hips with ease and sliding it beneath her lower back. When he thrusts back into her, it’s maddeningly slow, as if he wants her to feel everything. His hand moves to her stomach, pressing down lightly as he fucks his cock inside her. The sensation sends shockwaves through her body, and she cries out, her voice high and pleading as the pressure amplifies the pleasure.

“Feel that?” he asks, his voice rough with arousal. “Feel how deep I am?”

She can only nod, tightening her legs around him, her body trembling as she grips the sheets for support. But curiosity and the overwhelming sensations push her to rise onto her elbows, needing to see what he’s doing to her. Her gaze drops to where their bodies meet, and that’s when she sees it — the way her lower abdomen rises and falls slightly with each of his deep, measured thrusts.

Her breath catches, her eyes widening in awe. “Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Is that…?”

Lando notices her reaction immediately, his own gaze following hers. The corner of his mouth curves into a smirk, but his eyes burn with something primal. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs, tightening his hands around her waist, holding her steady. “Yeah, that’s me inside you.”

The realization sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her, and Lando seems to sense it. His grip on her waist tightens further, and he begins to move harder, his hips snapping against hers with a rhythm that’s still controlled but far more intense.

The room fills with the slik sound of her pussy as Lando thrusts in and out relentlessly, and her moans grow louder, her body arching into him.

“Let me feel you,” he growls, his voice deep. “Let go, baby. Let me feel you,” he repeats, over and over again.

She wraps her arms around Lando, pulling him closer to have something to support her. The way her pussy sucks at his cock, desperate and insistent, sends him careening over the edge before he can even process it.

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, his voice breaking as his hips stutter, spilling into her with a throaty moan. He can get drunk on the way she grips him, her heat, her hunger — every part of her pulling him into pure bliss.

His forehead drops to hers, their shared breaths mingling as they pant and moan together, riding out every wave of pleasure as they hit.

Her nails are still buried in his back, the sharp sting blending with the pleasure coursing through him. He winces but doesn’t stop, his body shuddering as her walls flutter around his cock, milking every last bit of him. They’re locked together, shaking, until the pleasure ebbs into a warm, lingering buzz.

After that, Lando finally stills inside her, his body softening, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he rests his weight against her. Only then does the sharp sting on his back pull his attention, and he lets out a low chuckle, his voice rough and spent.

“You really dug in, didn’t you?” he teases, his tone affectionate as he lifts his head to look at her. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk despite the ache in his muscles.

Her face flushes with embarrassment, her hands slipping away from his back, burying into his hair instead. “Sorry,” she whispers, avoiding to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he replies, his gaze soft and adoring. “It was worth it.”

Before she can add something else, Lando leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that’s the opposite of tender. It’s a stark contrast to the raw intensity they just shared, and a quiet reassurance that he’s still fully present with her. His hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing against her flushed skin as he deepens the kiss, savoring her.

When they finally break apart, their foreheads rest together again, their breathing still uneven but calming. “You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching hers.

She nods, a small, blissful smile tugging at her lips.

“Hey, don't go non-verbal on me again,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Lan?” she says softly.

“Hm?”

She swallows, her cheeks flushed, but she doesn’t look away this time. “You are… I mean, it was my first time.”

For a moment, her words don’t fully register. He blinks, his brows knitting together as if he’s processing what she just said. “First time?” he repeats, his tone slow, almost disbelieving.

When she nods, her lips parting slightly as she struggles to hold his gaze, Lando’s eyes fix on hers. His first instinct is to check if she’s messing with him, but all he sees is her wrecked, post-sex state. Her hair is mussed and wild against the pillow, her skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted as she breathes unevenly. The faint sheen of sweat on her body catches the soft light, and her eyes are glassy, still hazy with satisfaction. She looks thoroughly undone — raw and real.

And he knows she’s not lying.

The realization hits him like a tsunami, leaving him momentarily speechless. His jaw tenses briefly, and instead of speaking, he leans down and captures her lips in a kiss. It’s not rushed or frantic but deep and meaningful, his lips moving against hers with a peaceful intensity. His hand cups her jaw, kissing her like he’s claiming every part of her. Because he is. The thought makes his head spin — the fact that she’s his completely.

“You should’ve told me,” says Lando, his voice thick with emotion. “I would’ve been more careful.”

“No, it was perfect,” she rushes to assure him. “Because it was with you.”

His eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Are you even real?” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing her again; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, trailing down her shoulders and neck, where he makes sure to leave marks behind. His hands roam her body with a newfound reverence, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Gonna spend the rest of the night showing you how much you mean to me,” he says, his lips brushing against her collarbone. “If you’ll let me.”

Her heart swells as she nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, his voice a low hum of satisfaction. “Because you deserve nothing less.”

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[cinematicnomad]

#I think this is good analysis but it’s missing a fundamental element #they don’t think she’s fucked up for anything she’s done or will do. they don’t think her life is a tragedy from her actions. #her life is a tragedy bc she’s a child. think about how much independence and autonomy a child has. #she’s 14. barely out of middle school. #(her actress obviously is older. bc a real 14 year old could not provide the necessary level of performance. but TV claudia is 14.) #claudia cannot exist in human society without a parent figure. which means she is eternally tied to a vampire companion by necessity #book claudia is 5 years old. Louis carries her around like a babydoll. brushes her hair and puts ribbons in it. #obviously TV claudia would not put up with that treatment. she has MUCH more autonomy than book claudia. #but Claudia being uniquely cursed is due to her age. and as her maker lestat is responsible for that #and lestat projects his insecurity back at her #armand wants her out of the way and he recognizes her insecurities/weaknesses immediately and plays them up #that’s why he creates the psychological torture of the baby lulu character for her. #madeleine well that’s interesting. TV madeleine is much more well adjusted as a human being. #book madeleine is a doll maker who lost a child. and Claudia is her replacement baby. they match each other’s freak but it’s crazyyy #they never really touch on Claudia’s age in Europe. they show her basically as a functioning adult. #when like. a biggest part of her tragedy is that she CANT leave Louis. she NEEDS an adult body with her to be passably human. #I’m rambling but yeah. it’s her age. #but she’s literally a black 14 year old who can only go out at night #the human world is so fucking dangerous for her (via @punk-pins)

As much as nearly every character she meets tends to act like there's something uniquely broken and wrong with Claudia, at no point does it truly seem to me like there actually really is? I mean, obviously she is extremely fucked up, she straight up went through a serial killer collecting trophies phase, but there's a level of fucked up that's sort of the baseline for every character in the show, and obviously being turned into a vampire as a child puts her at a unique disadvantage. But for all that everyone around her spends their time bemoaning how dreadful and doomed her life is, even Louis who genuinely loves her but also builds so much of his identity around feeling responsible for her Terrible Fate™, I really don't think she's like, fundamentally damaged any more than any of the other vampires are.

But Lestat is so unwilling to be wrong that every time her life hits an inevitable road bump instead of helping her through it he points and says "look! see! she IS a monster, I was right Louis, making her was a mistake!" (and I think he sees his own monstrousness in her but fails to also see her humanity)

And then Armand meets her and sees only someone who will inevitably lose her mind, so of course speeding up the "inevitable" and siding with the coven to plan her death is just a mercy, absolving himself of any blame. (and he projects his own frailty and desire for death onto her, failing to see her strength and her desire for life)

Which makes it so cathartic when she meets Madeleine, admits to her how broken she feels sometimes, and Madeleine's response is just. Well that's normal. Who isn't a little broken these days. Let yourself feel it, move on, let yourself feel it again if you need to. After spending her life having others act as if her emotions are something uniquely dark and worrying, Madeleine's incredibly blase attitude must have been such an incredible breath of fresh air for Claudia!

To spend her whole life being made to feel like something is Wrong™ with her, and then meet someone who's just like, "yeah, and?? Who isn't? Join the club I guess"

Which makes her death so incredibly tragic and frustrating because like. She was fine! She was making a life for herself! She wasn't doomed by her nature, she wasn't "doomed by the narrative" (whatever the fuck that even means), she was doomed for no reason other than that everyone around her (except for Madeleine) preemptively DECIDED she was doomed and never gave her a chance to prove them wrong.

[varpusvaras]

An AU in which Jason, upon returning to Gotham, gets really swept up into the whole crime lord thing, and never gets the time to go through with his revenge plan.

It starts small. He comes back and gets to work, and after a while, he has managed to carve out some of the crime from crime alley. This gets him noticed among some of the people there. One night, a group of thugs approach him, but instead of wanting to fight him, they want to work for him.

Jason, still fresh, with not much revenue coming for him yet, tells them that he isn't hiring because he cannot exactly pay them much. The thugs say that it doesn't matter, because they like what he is doing, and would like to be in on it anyway, and, well. If Jason has help managing other things, he can dedicate more time on his bigger plan, right?

Wrong. Things start to move much quicker now, and that means that more people come in and want to work for him. At this point Jason has money coming in, and he starts paying them, too, which makes more people come in, which in turn makes more money to come in as well. Jason can pay them more, and suddenly he notices a difference in many of the goons he has on his roster now. They seem happier. They joke more, many of them have better clothes on them, and they don't look so gaunt anymore, either.

Jason asks about it, once, and the goon tells him that they have had the money to buy actual groceries and new pair of boots, which makes living a lot more comfortable. They even got to buy their kid a new winter jacket! Now, if they save up a little bit, they will be able to get their kid new school books as well!

And Jason, Crime Alley boy Jason, who loved school and reading, feels his heart strings being violently yanked. Don't worry about the books, he says. I will take care of it.

At the end of the month, he has managed to organise a book delivery system for all the Crime Alley kids, where they get school books and picture books and science books about dinosaurs and angient Egypt and all that. He tells his goons that for every kid that stays in school for the semester, he will give them a bonus.

It works wonders. The amount of kids dropping out from school gets cut by 60 percent just during the first semester. The book system grows, and suddenly Jason finds himself pushing some money to get the old local library running again, to make things a bit easier. He even hires some people to run the system for him. Suddenly, he is like actually employing people. He needs an accountant. He hires one for himself, and then another one to run other funds.

Things just keep escalating after that. Local parent group starts to have meetings in the new library, and they put up a babysitting club and start a clothes exhange program as well, where you can bring all the clothes that are too small for you, and people get to take what they need home. A soup kitchen starts as well, first because the kids need snacks, and then it grows so much that Jason needs to find a place for it to run effectively and safely. Many local restaurants get into it as well, and their business starts to rise as well, because people who are fed and have warm clothes have more time and energy to seek for jobs. Many of them are still employed within just Crime Alley, though, because jobs elsewhere require an adress, and some people don't have those.

Jason thinks about himself, after his parents died, on the streets, trying to survive, and thinks never again. He tells his accountant to start budgeting for housing.

He needs to hire more people for it. He needs to run his crime empire, after all, he doesn't have the time for this.

He has so many people working for him now. There are a few thugs that were previously employed by other Gotham Rogues coming in as well, because they have heard good things about the Red Hood. The other Rogues are in and out of the prison or Arkham all the time and the pay isn't reliable and there is a high chance that you will get beaten up by one of the bats as well, and they don't really get offered medical services by their bosses, you know?

There's another thing. Jason now has to organize people to get first aid-training. And also get some sort of vaccination program going. And also get everybody dental.

It's all getting too much for him, really. He doesn't even have a high school diploma.

He mentions this to one of his goons one night, because they said that he looked stressed. Don't worry boss! The goon tells him. We will take care of things, if you want to go back to school! It would be a good example, too, for the older kids, who are still dropping out more than the little kids, you know?

So Jason goes back to school. God he loves school. He barely even thinks about his revenge plan anymore, because he is busy running his programs and studying and making plans with his goons.

He gets his diploma and then starts a community college so people can get degrees.

He then runs into an entirely new problem. The people look up to him, especially the kids. And now the kids also want to help him.

Jason, the second Robin, the bird with clipped wings, tells them no. Absolutely not. You are kids, go back to school, your bedtime is at nine.

He cannot control the older teens, though. They just tell him to fuck off and accept the help. Now train us, so we can start running the more specialized missions too. You can't be the only person jumping on rooftops. If you don't train us, we will do it anyway, dipshit. We ain't scared of you.

And suddenly Jason has his own vigilante team with him. His workers are unionizing. Some of them are actually running for the city council to get things addressed that need to be done the legal way. Crime rates have dropped by 70 percent around Crime Alley.

They can't really call it Crime Alley anymore, can they? It's Park Row again.

The bats are extremely confused by the new team. The Hoods, they call themselves. All of them with a red bat painted on their chests and fighting in an eerily similar manner to them.

Jason is not there on Thursdays. He is busy getting his English degree.

[enderlovez]

Soft as a Feather

Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 869

Summary: You and Spencer have decided to keep your relationship private, but when he comes into work with a mysterious lipstick mark on his neck, everybody's asking questions he doesn't know how to answer... at least, that's until you come in and leave a strangely familiar kiss mark on his cheek.

Content Warning: kissing (does that even need a warning)

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

It's always the most wonderful feeling, waking up next to Spencer. Especially on mornings like this one—when he's still sleeping peacefully, the early-morning sunlight peeking through the curtains and somehow making him look even more like an angel than usual.

You cannot physically stop yourself from reaching out to him, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with your finger and tucking it behind his ear, smiling softly to yourself.

"What're you doing?" he asks groggily, eyes still closed, but a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, leaning forward and leaving a tiny peck on the tip of his nose, "I didn't mean to wake you, sweetheart."

"Didn't wake me," he tries to argue, but the sleep in his voice suggests otherwise.

You're a profiler, he should know by now that it's practically impossible to lie to you, especially since you know him like the back of your hand—better than the back of your hand, maybe.

"Whatever you say, Spence."

Unwilling to break the peaceful quiet you're both submerged in, you watch him a moment longer, before finally forcing your eyes away.

Spencer opens his eyes, watching as you push the blankets off yourself and get to your feet. "What're you doing now?"

"We do have a job to get to, Spencer," you remind him with a little chuckle.

He groans and rolls onto his back, stretching out his limbs. "Can't we just call in sick and stay here all day?"

You shake your head and hand him a pile of clothes before beginning to dress yourself. "Remember that huge case we need to get started on today—the one Hotch called about last night?"

Spencer sighs heavily, but nods and crawls out of bed, pulling on the clothes you've chosen for him. You've already left by the time he's finished getting dressed, standing in the kitchen and hurriedly trying to pour coffee into two travel cups.

"We'll need to leave now if we wanna get to work on time," you mumble as you hand him one of the two travel cups—the one with the little blue flowers printed along the bottom.

You press your lips firmly to the skin beneath his jaw, then again to his lips before practically flying out the door.

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

"Has our pretty boy finally found himself a pretty girl?"

Spencer flinches at the sudden voice beside him, turning to look at the smug grin on Morgan's face.

It wasn't like you and Spencer really wanted to keep your relationship a secret from your friends, but it was so much easier without the teasing and word-twisting that would surely come from Derek.

"What's this about Spencer having a girlfriend?"

Garcia suddenly appears beside Morgan, tilting her head curiously before her already-wide eyes widen further, nearly bulging out of their sockets.

"I don't know where either of you are getting that idea, but it's unprofessional in the workplace," Spencer mutters, his mind briefly flicking back to you.

You haven't come in yet, usually waiting a few minutes after Spencer goes in to avoid any suspicion.

"What's unprofessional is the—"

Morgan is abruptly cut off by your arrival, bursting through the doors in a flurry of positivity.

You don't say anything as you drop your things off at your desk and casually stroll over to where everyone's huddled. "There's a party at Spencer's desk, and I wasn't invited. I'm crushed, you guys!"

You and Spencer were close before, almost to a strange degree, which might be part of the reason nobody thought any different when the two of you got together, so nobody questions it when you lean down and leave a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

Nobody questions it, until you pull away from him, leaving behind a reddish-brown lipstick print on his cheek.

One that matches the one on his jaw perfectly.

Garcia's jaw drops in shock, and Morgan looks overjoyed. For selfish reasons, of course, but overjoyed nonetheless.

"When were you going to tell me you two were dating?" Garcia demands, almost angrily as you wipe away the print with a tissue from your pocket.

Both you and Spencer immediately freeze. You look like you've seen a ghost, all the color drained from your face, and Spencer is quite the opposite, his face red and hot. So... like he's seen a living person?

That makes absolutely no sense.

"What are you t-talking about?" he manages, frantically looking between the two gawking agents. Even if it weren't for the lipstick, the slight stutter in his voice was enough to give him away.

Neither of them say a word, but Morgan gestures to his own jaw with a finger. There is a lipstick print there from this morning, one that neither of you had noticed, identical to the one you've just wiped off Spencer's cheek.

Well shit.

"Uhm... we were going to tell you," you try to reason, but they've already left, telling everyone within ears reach (and still further) about what they've just found out.

"We should probably go tell Hotch before they do," he suggests weakly, getting up from the chair.

Gently pulling him along by his arm, you nod. "I absolutely agree."

[chaoticwriting]

Old Friend 2

Part 1

In the car

Vlad: So, young Daniel. I'm not really trying to pry but may I know how you know young Cassandra?

Danny: *Grunts* We met a long time ago. Way before I became Phantom. I was kidnapped when I was young by a group of cultists.

Vlad: What!? I never knew any of this.

Danny: Of course you don't. My family never dares to bring up the topic since they are afraid it will trigger my trauma or something.

Vlad:.......

Danny: And for the longest time, they are not wrong. Imagine, you are 5 years old, waiting for your parents who go out to hunt some ghosts when suddenly a group of men in fully black clothing cover your face with black clothing and knock you up. Next thing you know, you are standing in the middle of a group of children. Scared just as much as you while being surrounded by a group of assassins.

Danny releases a sigh as he remembers his past.

Danny: It is not easy to survive. They train you like you are a robot. If you don't complete your task, they will either punish you or ignore any of your needs. Sometimes both. For them, kids who fail to complete tasks are as worthless as a grain of sand.

Danny: I stayed there for a full 4 years. Training, fighting and killing. I do whatever it takes to survive. Just to see mom, dad and Jazz again. It was there I met her. She's just like me although her circumstances are different.

Danny: A kid who is raised unwillingly as an assassin. We used to escape our observes eyes and meet up in a forest. For the longest time, it was like that. Sometimes we talk about escaping. But most of the time we just talk, or show each other things that we found interesting while we were out on a mission.

Heavy silence falls in the car as Danny stops talking.

Danny: However, things changed one night. I waited and waited in the forest. But she never came. When I returned back to the base, I heard a commotion. "The Perfect Weapon has escaped". I don't know what to feel then. It felt like I was betrayed and yet I felt relieved and happy to know that she was no longer there.

As Danny stops speaking, they arrive at the hotel Vlad booked. Vlad is not good at comforting people but he knows from Jazz that sometimes giving people time alone is a good way to comfort them.

They eat dinner from the room service and decide to go to bed early tonight. As Danny lays on his bed, visions of the past return to him. The bitter and the sweet. Looking at the clock that is past midnight, Danny gets out of bed and takes out a long coat. If he can't sleep, might as well get rid of this excess energy.

---Wayne Manor---

Bruce silently nods as he hears his daughter's story. Honestly, it frustrates him that such a thing could happen and yet he cannot do anything about it. Sometimes, he wonders if he should really just kill all his rogues.

No. He shouldn't think like that. Returning his focus to his daughter, Bruce calmly rubs her head.

Bruce: It's fine. I'm sure you could talk it out with him. From what I see, he is not fully hostile to you. I'm sure he would understand if you explain it to him.

Cass: Hmmm.

Bruce: Do you still want to go on patrol tonight? I think Tim is free to fill in your spot if you don't feel like it.

Cass: No. I'm okay and will be. Just need to process my thoughts.

Bruce: Alright sweetheart.

Suddenly, his phone starts ringing.

Oracle: Hey, Bruce.

Bruce: Yeah?

Oracle: You might want to check in soon. There have been reported shootings at a factory near Scarecrow's territory.

Bruce: Alright. Inform the others to get ready.

As the call is cut off, Cass quickly goes down to the Batcave. She will think about how to contact Danny later. First, there is a shooting to quell.

Part 3