#She was so fun to write

[critcast]

i used to rp pam from true blood a while back and i really am about to add her to my muse list because i just thought of the perfect way to make her another bg3 companion lol. writing the info posts now.

[lady-ginnie]

While I should be working on Just For Once, I instead found a character creator I really liked on Picrew and made Iris Sinclair, lol.

[demonic0angel]

Court Story Idea

TW: the Joker

Where the Joker is being prosecuted for his crimes within the Ghost Zone and each side (defendant and plaintiff) is able to choose the lawyer for the other side. So that means that the Joker is able to choose an attorney for the plaintiffs AKA Jason, along with other victims, both alive and dead. (For drama’s sake, let’s say that the Justice League is there too, along with the younger generation of heroes.)

When everyone hears this, they’re like ??? Because isn’t that just going to help the Joker??

And the Joker, realizing this, is looking for the most weakest, most vulnerable person to exploit within this ghostly court room and he looks at the back of the room…

And finds Jazz, who’s sitting in a corner behind King Phantom, head down, trying her best to be unnoticed, nose in her papers as she’s writing down what’s said as the court reporter.

And the Joker picks her.

Nobody understands why everyone from the Ghost Zone is suddenly either 1) flabbergasted, 2) completely delighted, or 3) laughing so hard that it’s like they’re about to die a 2nd time.

Because the Joker chose the only person in the room with an actual law degree who is not only the big sister of the literal Ghost King, but also loves children, is fiercely protective of them, and most importantly, has never gotten the opportunity to show off her hard earned degrees in criminology, psychiatry, or law until now.

(Inspired by this post where someone says that Jazz would be the court reporter)

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[dapper-lil-arts]

You should read The Princess and the Peasant it's really good lol

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[chimerafeathers]

you know what i think Mirabelle deserves to get a little fucked up freaky in how she processes learning about Siffrin’s loops post-canon. for fun. as a treat

thinking about this line in particular and stretching out the implications like taffy

this is a more romanticized, cutesy facet of her interests but she’s still framing Siffrin’s situation through storytelling. so like. What If.

i mean. this woman loves horror and gore and monsters and horrible things happening to innocent people. IN FICTION. in fiction!!! obviously!!!! and it’s beyond terrible that something even remotely close to any of that happened to her real friend in real life!!

BUT.

maybe. maybe sometimes, if the conditions are right, she gets a little too wrapped up in her imagination about the bloody, awful poetry of it all. maybe Siffrin tells a joke that's a little too dark and gory for anyone else, borderline or full-on Concerning, but she latches onto it without thinking about the Implications and plays along with increasing gruesomeness because FINALLYYYYY someone will play with her in the Horror Space (like Isabeau does in the romance space!!) and then. OOPS. the implications!!!! and she has to recalibrate out of Fun With Fiction mode into Oh No, My Friend Underwent A Horrifying Ordeal mode.

but being able to joke about things, even the awful things, is...kind of comforting, to Siffrin. makes them feel less like they're being babied and pitied and more like what happened was something...normal, almost? something that doesn't have to feel like the end of the world all over again every time it's mentioned, at least. so he tries to reassure her, and Odile and Isabeau have to go “actually can you PLEASE not joke about dying horribly it’s freaking us out and also might not be the Best for you? mentally???”

maybe Mirabelle will get a little Too Into trying to weave meaning and symbolism into the scant details that Siffrin gradually reveals, like she’s trying to finish the orange poem all over again, or eagerly meddling with the romantic reunion of the two actual people in the House with undelivered bonding earrings, writing their story for them without their input.

it’s easier to justify the tragedy of it all when it has a purpose, isn’t it? finding the beauty in the darkness, the love powerful enough to end the world. romanticizing the horrors until her friend can talk about them without shutting down.

and she feels guilty about hearing something and immediately thinking “ohhhhhhh this is JUST like Blorbo From My Novels,” because she should treat Siffrin’s situation with the gravity and care he deserves!! they’re a real person, not a character who exists for entertainment, to represent the ~themes~ of some story.

but if she admits as much…maybe Siffrin is safe to admit that he had started seeing the rest of them as actors, endlessly reciting their lines. maybe that’s just how people process things sometimes, grasping for metaphors when unfiltered reality gets to be too much. maybe it’s okay to talk about that part of it all, too.

[teliphone]

Venomous

Jackie Taylor x Fem Reader x Shauna Shipman

Summary: Shauna watches you devote yourself to Jackie. She doesn't understand how you could do that. She loathes being in someone's shadow, but tragically, in one herself. To make herself feel better, her sick mind turns to you. You’re just too sweet and kind… Shauna knows what you want. 

Warning(s): Smut, slight angst, toxic relationships, oral, bullying, degrading, pain

Word count: 3k

-

Shauna crosses her arms, hiding her clenched fists. Her face expresses slight annoyance as she watches her best friend Jackie ignore you again. Shauna never understood why you decided to stay with Jackie, considering how poorly she treats you. She is starting to think it’s some sick kink you have, to be rejected and belittled. 

You stand in front of them, hands trembling, exposing your nervousness. It’s sad how anxious you are to ask your girlfriend on a simple date. It shouldn’t be like this. 

“H-hi Jackie… I was wondering if you're free this-“ 

“I’m not,” Jackie sighs. She doesn’t bother giving you a second glance. Her eyes lock onto her phone, quickly texting someone. Your cheeks turn red from the blunt rejection. You gulp down your sorrow as your eyes flicker to Shauna. She continues to remain silent, just watching your heart break. 

Most of the time, when Shauna sees you, it is you tagging along with Jackie like a puppy on a leash. She orders you around, which you, of course, fully heartedly listen. Bitterness would linger in Shauna’s mouth when she watches you scrambling to grab Jackie napkins at that one dinner. 

Your life evolves around Jackie and Shauna understands. She knows what it is like to live under someone else’s shadow… but why did it seem like you’re okay with it? It angers her how weak you are. She always felt like she had more to life than to live like this. To rule. Own something. To have power.

“Oh… that’s okay! Maybe next time. I’ll wait for you,” You try your best to smile, disregarding how tight your heart squeezes. Jackie smiles back and gently rubs your head like you’re her pet.  

“Thank you. You’ve always been so considerate,” She compliments. You lean into the touch lovingly. Shauna lets out a scoff. She can practically see you wagging your tail at the smallest praise. Jackie removes her hand and averts her attention to Shauna. 

“Come on, let’s go,” She chirps. Shauna watches Jackie strut down the halls before she turns to tower over you. You nervously gulp while silently glaring at her. You didn’t hate Shauna… you were just jealous of her. 

Shauna always gets to do everything with Jackie. Everywhere Jackie goes, there she is. You wish it could be you instead. You beg to spend a full day alone with Jackie. 

“You should stop being pathetic,” Shauna whispers loud enough just for you. Your face scrunches in anger. You ignore the way your heart rate starts to pick up; Shauna is just really good at making you upset. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from snapping. 

Shauna smirks at your inner struggle before walking away to catch up with Jackie. You stand in place, your hands shaking. 

-

It’s been a week since Shauna called you pathetic. The days leading up to now consist of her cornering you and making you feel small. You’re starting to get irritated. Her words consume you. Even when holding hands with Jackie, you can hear Shauna in the back of your mind. 

Shauna stands by her locker with a blank face. She looks around curiously, wondering where her best friend is. Suddenly, her phone vibrates. She reaches down into her pockets and quickly scans the text. She shoves her phone into her pocket and sighs. Jackie texted her to meet her “asap”.  As much as she hates being ordered around, she always listens to Jackie. 

Shauna starts making her way over, ignoring everyone who looks at her. She makes it to one of the classrooms and calmly opens the door. Sounds of soft moans and grunts reach her ears first, making her heart race. Her eyes widen and her breathing stops. 

Inside the classroom are Jackie and you. You’re sitting on top of Jackie’s lap, jerking your lower body against her. Your cheeks are red as you tilt your head back in pleasure. Whiny moans escape your lips while Jackie lazily jerks her fingers in your core. You feel her two digits filing, curling, and pressing against your gummy walls.

“You feel so good,” You moan. Jackie tilts her head up to look at your face. She smiles sweetly at your praises. She pulls her fingers out and teases you by pinching your clit. You gasp and reach down to grip her wrist. Jackie leans forward and licks your ear. You hum sweetly.  

“…Shauna’s here,” She whispers. You immediately tense up. The pleasure vanishes and is replaced with shame and embarrassment. You attempt to get off Jackie, but she tightens her grip on your waist. 

“Give her a show,” Jackie taunts. You shake your head no, words unable to come out. Jackie ignores you and pinches your clit again. You cry out in pain and pleasure. Your hands slide up to hold onto her shoulder, panting into her ear. Shauna bites her lower lip as she feels herself getting hotter. Her eyes never leave your figure. Soaking every reaction your body does. 

“Jackie, stop,” You moan, jerking your core away from her wet fingers. Jackie rolls her eyes. Your pussy is so wet and slippery she doesn’t want to. She wants to shove her fingers in, but decides to stop for your sake. You tiredly get off her lap and scatter to grab your pants. Jackie tilts her head and smirks at Shauna, who hasn’t moved or said anything yet. Jackie brings her hands up to her face and slowly moves them side to side. Examining how your wetness glistens against her fingers. She gets up from the seat and walks over to Shauna, who takes a nervous step back. 

“Shipman,” Jackie chirps. Shauna clenches her jaw at how her last name rolls off her tongue. 

“Why did you do that?” She questions. Jackie softly giggles, tilting her head cutely. 

“You think I haven’t noticed how you look at her,” Jackie reveals, her eyes glaring deep into Shauna’s. 

Jackie had noticed Shauna becoming too quiet whenever she mentions you… It made her suspicious. She started observing how Shauna stares a little too long at you. Or how she whispers to you, sharing secrets behind her back. So Jackie decided to start treating you badly. Just to prove to Shauna that you’re wrapped around her fingers, literally and figuratively. She drags Shauna along to make sure she sees how you still hang on like a piece of forgotten gum.  

Shauna averts her stare, feeling intimidated by Jackie. Jackie lightly chuckles. She bites her bottom lip in excitement. 

“Don’t worry. I’m not that mad… I honestly don’t even know if I love her,” Jackie shrugs. She lifts her fingers to Shauna’s lips. Her eyes dilate as a sick idea pops into her head. 

“She is mine… but it’s kinda funny if you want her too.” Jackie’s fingers, covered with silk, hover over Shauna’s lips. Jackie didn’t want to share, but she is controlling this situation. This is more pleasing to her. 

“Why don’t you get a taste?”

Shauna jerks her head to look over at you. You stand awkwardly by the seat with your head down. She can see your chest moving up and down fast. A red blush on your soft, wet cheeks. 

“Come on… my hands are tired,” Jackie giggles, wiggling her fingers. Shauna dryly swallows before clenching her jaw. She slaps Jackie’s hands away. 

“I won’t play into your game,” She spits before walking out. Jackie stands speechless, then lets out a laugh of disbelief. She couldn’t believe Shauna suddenly grew braver. She slowly turns around and looks at you. You shyly squeeze your legs together. 

“Come here and don’t you fucken dare tell me to stop,” Jackie grunts. 

-

Shauna feels her blood boiling as she walks away from the scene. She ignores how wet her panties have gotten, rubbing pleasurably against her core as she walks. She enters the bathroom and slams the stall door closed. She lowers the toilet seat covers and takes a seat.

“Fuck,” She cusses, fumbling to shove her hands in her pants. Once the tip of her finger touches her folds, she bites her lip. Wetness leaks out, coating her fingers. She starts rubbing her clit urgently. She curses Jackie and your name angrily. Who the fuck does Jackie think she is?! The image of you tilting your head back and moaning flashes in her mind. She rubs herself faster. 

“Fuck you,” She moans. She hates how your body feverishly chases after Jackie’s finger like you’re some type of slut. She hates how whiny and soft your moans are. She hates how you love to praise Jackie for how good she is.

Shauna knows she can be better. 

She imagines herself touching you, making you blush and nervous. Her eyes start to roll back as she gets closer to her high. She rubs herself aggressively a few more times til she comes, biting her lip hard to not make a sound. Her chest moves up and down as she pulls her hand out of her pants. Wetness rolls down her knuckles. She blushes in embarrassment. 

She's furious… you, out of everyone… made her come.

-

Shauna’s bullying became worse. When she finds you alone without Jackie, she would sinisterly smile. 

First, she loves to pull on your hair. She is addicted to hearing you wince in pain as she grips your hair. She forces you to lock eyes with her. 

“Jackie doesn’t even love you. You’re nothing without her,” She whispers harshly. Your eyes begin to water as you try to pull yourself away from her. She doesn’t let go until you're begging her like a sobbing mess. 

Second, she sickly loves to call you names. She would cuss at you for being stupid for no reason. Laughs and calls you a slut. Sometimes she would suddenly call you cute while she degrades you. It makes your mind jumble and glitch. 

It’s worse when she does both at the same time. 

Shauna’s hand aggressively tugs your head, making you fall to your knees. You claw at her hands with your fingers. She chuckles and only grips harder. 

“You’re so weak. Look at you,” She hums, towering over you. She tugs your head closer to her clothed core and lets out a shaky breath. Her eyes dilated from seeing you kneel before her. 

“I can’t wait to fucken ruin you. You’re just a perfect little bitch for me,” She chuckles. Your cheeks turn bright red, ignoring how your core throbs. She watches you clench your thighs together. She rolls her eyes and shoves her foot on top of your core. She presses her foot down, making you wince. 

“Are you getting wet? I can’t believe you’re getting turned on by being treated like shit,” She smiles. She removes her foot and pushes your head, causing you to stumble onto the ground. She then spits a clear glob right next to you. Missing your face by a few centimeters. Your breathing shakes as you lie still. Tears drip from your eyes, but it’s more embarrassing how your pussy aches. 

“Do what I say and maybe I’ll start treating you better,” Shauna says before walking away. 

-

Your relationship with Jackie seems to hit the biggest stumbling block. Your mind is crowded with Shauna. You dream about her touching you and wake up wet. You walk down the hallways with your eyes nervously checking to see if Shauna is heading to bully you again. She has successfully broken you down till you're suffocating and craving her.

Today is different. Just slightly. 

Shauna shoves you hard against the wall. You grunt in pain from the impact. She places her arm over your collarbone, pinning you to the wall. You try wiggling yourself out, but it is no use. She grins sinisterly with her teeth. Her brown eyes were blown out and dilated. She leans her face closer to yours, hovering her lips over yours. 

You seem to shrink under her gaze. You tilt your head down, looking at the closeness between her body. Her thighs are slotted between. Her core rests on top of yours. Every time she would move, her body would grind against yours.

“You’re sad to look at… It’s laughable,” She chuckles. You clench your jaw and glare at her. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of your eyes. It emotionally hurts. Shauna’s word stabs your heart because… It’s true. Everything she has been teasing you about is true… and God, do you feel pathetic. 

Jackie never did care about you. She “forgets” everything about you. She cuts your conversation short, claiming that she is busy. You’ve been pushed by her countless times… it’s truly sad how you still beg for a sprinkle of her attention. 

“Are you crying?” Shauna taunts, lowering her head to examine you closely. You shut your eyes and sniff as a weak attempt to stop crying. Your bottom lashes are wet while you glare at her. 

“Leave me alone. You’ve hurt me enough,” You beg. Tears start to run down your cheeks. A blush appears on your cheeks from embarrassment. You didn’t want to cry in front of her. 

Shauna’s breathing shakes as she watches a tear roll down your cheeks. She finds you so pitiful, it makes her feel butterflies. She lifts her thumb to wipe your wet cheeks. Your breathing hicks at her sudden sweet gesture. You nervously look up into her eyes. They’re soft and dilated. You swore you could feel like she does care in that moment. But Shauna is a wolf in disguise. You knew better than to warm up to her. 

“I didn’t hurt you… Jackie did,” She shushes you. Your lips start to tremble, and tears threaten to fall more. She lowers her face to yours. Her hands softly brush your hair. You sniff, taking in what she said. She watches your face scrunch in confusion. 

“I love Jackie,” You breathe out. You lift your head at the sudden boost of confidence.

“I love Jackie and I don’t fucken care how she treats me,” You snap. Shauna chuckles darkly. You’re so obedient… Jackie is so lucky.

“You like Jackie that much?” She mumbles. You quickly nod your head, hoping it is enough for her to move on. 

It’s funny you thought that was enough. 

“Close your fucking eyes,” She snaps. You flutter your eyes shut before you feel her press her plump lips against yours. You gasp, causing her to deepen the kiss. Her tongue slowly flicks against yours. You clench your fist to limit yourself from grunting. She pulls away, breathing heavily. Her eyes were wide and lustful.

“Imagine I’m Jackie,” Shauna whispers before leaning back in to kiss you. Her hands lower to hold onto your waist. She rubs her core against yours slowly. 

“Kiss me like how you would kiss her,” She says between the kisses. Your heart skips a beat. Your mind and body fight against each other. But once her teeth nibble your bottom lip, all your morals disappear. You moan loudly and start kissing her back. Your hands reach up to grip her hair. 

You think of Jackie just like what Shauna said and it helps. Truthfully, Shauna has been making you sexually aroused for the past week. You can’t help it. 

Your tongue brushes against hers. Feeling her wet, warm tongue makes you turn on. Shauna pulls away and places her hands on top of your head. You attempt to open your eyes, but Shauna stops you. 

“Kneel and praise me like how you do it to Jackie,” She pants. You feel your body heating up as you kneel. You hear Shauna taking off her pants in a hurry. 

She comes back and places her hand back on top of your head. She tugs your head and guides you to her aching pussy. Her arousal scent numbs your mind. You obediently stick out your tongue. Her warm folds slide against your tongue. She cusses and jerks her core into your mouth. You reach up to hold onto her tense thighs. She grips your head harder. 

“Fuck… baby you’re so pretty like this. You like being used?” She grunts. You moan out a soft yes before wrapping your lips around her clit. She places two hands onto your head, digging her fingers into your skull. Your knees start to hurt from the hard floor. You shift a little to get more comfortable. She shoves you deeper into her pussy. 

“Keep sucking me stupid slut. Don’t think of anything else,” She hisses. You flick your tongue against her clit before sucking hard. Her thighs tense and shake. You try your best to ignore the constant leak from your pussy. There’s a high chance your panties have a small, dark, damp spot.

“I’m gonna… you're gonna make me come,” Shauna manages to moan out. She continues riding against your tongue, cursing, and moaning. 

“Open your eyes,” She grunts. You slowly open your eyes to see her red cheeks. Her stomach tenses at eye contact. You can no longer imagine it’s Jackie… instead, it’s Shauna that clouds you. She’s the one you taste. She’s the one who’s going to come in your mouth. 

Shauna lets out a loud moan as she releases her juice into your mouth. You flatten your tongue and lap her core like you didn’t want to miss a single drop. Her silk runs down your chin as you pull away from her pussy. A wet trail connects between her core and your lips. She lazily brushes your hair. Her eyelids are heavy as she smiles. 

“Tell me you love me,” She whispers. She is sick. She feels so much lust for fucking her best friends girlfriend. She can’t help it. She wanted to consume everything that Jackie had to make herself feel better. To make herself feel like she isn’t in Jackie's shadow. You stare up at her with teary eyes. 

“I love you,” You confess. You don't know if you love her or the way she treats you.

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[stevebabey]

toothache

summary: Steve gets his wisdom teeth removed. You dote from his bedside, even if, post-anaesthesia, he seems to have completely forgotten you’re his girlfriend.

[3.6k + established!relationship + fem!reader]

There’s a faint beep from a machine tucked in the corner, but other than that the room is quiet.

As quiet as it can be, at least. Hospitals are never truly silent, you think. The whole building hums with the coursing thrum of rushing doctors and the buzz of fluorescent lights; a hive for busy bees.

Steve’s room is decently tucked away from any of the busyness of the some of the more frantic floors, thankfully.

Occasionally, a nurse does a round and you spy them walking by through the slats in the blinds. But besides that, it’s just you and your twiddling thumbs to keep yourself company until Steve wakes up.

The nurse who’d let you in left maybe 20 minutes ago — about how long she said it would take for Steve to wake back up. You don’t have a watch on, but the room has a big clock that ticks silently, the second hand juddering around the clock face.

You’ve been watching it, waiting to put said twiddling thumbs into action the moment Steve stirs.

And if you’re not keeping track of the time, you’re studying your boyfriend’s face.

Steve looks a bit silly and a bit lovely all at once.

He’s out cold in the hospital bed and his cheeks are stuffed with cotton, making him resemble a chipmunk, to stem the bleeding in his mouth. His face is lax and his cheek is slightly squished against the pillow.

There’s a touch of drool from the corner of his mouth. Well, just a touch is generous of you to say.

You’d wiped it away initially, doting and caring, but Christ almighty, he’s definitely out cold. It’s a river of slobber.

Your search for tissues was futile and after the second time you’d wiped it with your sleeve, you decided the pillow is soaking it all up just fine.

He must be on something really strong. Deep roots, the doctor told you whilst explaining why Steve was under so much anaesthesia.

Your lips purse worriedly as your eyes roam over his face. You hope the whole procedure won’t hurt him much.

Steve’s been through the wringer these last couple years, so much that one would expect something as minuscule as a wisdom teeth removal shouldn’t warrant too much worry — except it has the opposite effect on you. Left on your own, your worry grows exponentially.

You eye the clock again.

How long since that nurse left again? How long before Steve’s been asleep for too long? He's had one too many concussions, which you did tell the doctors about, but maybe they missed something. Maybe you should hit the call button anyway.

The clock ticks forward.

A nurse passes by the window.

On the bed, Steve’s fingers twitch.

A breath of sigh presses its way out your lungs, warm relief flushing through your chest, and you reach forward to click the call button in an instant. You’re on your feet quickly, crowding in closer.

The cool bar of the bed presses into your upper thighs as you reach across it to hold Steve’s hand.

Evidently groggy, Stave’s eyelashes flutter open. You’d think he looks like a Disney princess if his mouth wasn’t gaping open and drooling with blood. He groans, long and languid, reeking of pain and the subsequent painkillers.

Before he's even opened his eyes, he's shifting about. The muscles in his neck tense as he tries to lift his head.

“Hey, hey," You speak softly, thumb rubbing gently across the back of his hand. Your other hand brushes against his forehead, urging him to lay back down. "Just take it easy there, tiger."

Steve makes another gravelly groany noise but relents against your touch, sinking back into the pillow in one magnificent slump. His eyes are open, hazel peering at you curiously as he blinks slowly.

"Wuh?" He manages to say, his jaw barely moving.

Despite how you try to resist, an endeared smile pulls at your mouth.

They did say he would be a little dopey when he came to. You're just now finding out how dopey that means.

Glancing at the door, you wonder how long you should wait before hitting the call button again. You're pretty sure Steve, proactive as ever, is gonna start pulling the cotton out of his mouth as soon as he realises its there.

"—Wuh 're 'ou?—"

To Steve, perhaps, those were real words. You're not entirely sure what he's meant to say, though you hazard a guess he's asking who you are.

In the same moment you go to answer, Steve's eyes drift off to the ceiling, unfocussed.

He raises the hand you aren't holding and bumps it against his jaw, then releases a long, drowsy owwwwwww in response.

Are you gonna lose good girlfriend points for laughing at this? Your lips purse together once more, this time buttoning in your laughter.

You rescue Steve from himself, reaching out and grabbing the other hand before he can prod himself in the face again.

"Wah 'appened?" He says, his eyes sluggish as they drag back over to you. It looks like it takes immense effort and you reward him with a loving squeeze of his hand.

"Your wisdom teeth, baby. You got them taken out."

Steve's eyebrows rise at a snail's pace, his face slowly forming an astounded expression.

"My teef?" He says, baffled. "'Ey took them?"

He extracts his hand from yours, raising it back up as if he's going to search his mouth for the very missing teeth.

You capture it midway up, tugging it back down. "Careful, you don't wanna touch it again. It'll be very sore."

Steve, bamboozled by just how exactly his hand rapidly changed course, takes a long moment to register your words. He blinks, one eye at a time, like a frog.

"Ow?"

You can't resist a little grin, nodding. "Yeah, baby, ouch."

That seems to get the message across. Steve doesn't try to raise his hand again, however, instead he realises that you're holding both of them. He's very unsubtle, half-lidded eyes peering down the bed with a suspicious squint to them.

Then, very slowly, he begins to pull both his hands away.

You let him do so, amusedly releasing your soft grip. Maybe hand-holding — usually one of Steve's favourite things — isn't so nice when you're high as a kite. You only want your boyfriend to be as comfortable as possible.

Except, when you glance back up at Steve's face, the narrowed, suspicious gaze is now directed at your face.

"Y'ur nice." He slurs, the compliment completely at odds with his sceptical demeanour. His hands are still pulled to his chest, tucked up awkwardly. "'N gongeous. But—"

He manages to raise one finger up straight, the only movement of his hands.

"Am—"

The end of his sentence is stolen by the hiss of the door, pushed open by the same nurse from earlier. You didn't catch her name.

She's a nice looking woman, dressed in green scrubs, and she smiles upon seeing Steve up and awake on the bed.

"Why hello there, Steve," She greets casually, sidling up to the other side of Steve's bed with a clipboard in hand. "How are we feelin'?"

Steve's turned to face her but you can see the clear hesitation in his face, evidently searching for any hint of recognition.

The hands held up against his chest sway a bit. Steve blinks slow.

"Who 'r 'ou?" He repeats the same question he asked you in the exact same cadence.

The nurse smiles at that, which is a nice way of letting your anxiety know you're not allowed to be too worried.

"I'm your nurse, Marissa. We met a few hours ago before your surgery. Do you remember that?"

It's a careful probe, seeing just how much Steve's recall is working. He thinks about it real hard, eyes staring in the distance as his tongue poking out a bit in concentration, before he moves his head in a way that's probably a no.

"That's okay, Steve. Everyone reacts a little differently to general, but it shouldn't last longer than a few hours." She reassures him.

The clipboard in her hands has a few pieces of paper clipped to it and she flicks through them. You sort of wish you had Steve's hand to hold, just to comfort yourself. The bar on his hospital bed will have to make do.

When Marissa speaks, she glances over at you, talking to both of you. "Looks like everything went to plan, no hitches or issues. You'll be free to take him home in another 20 minutes or so—so long as nothing crops up."

You nod, grateful to hear that. Though, you're not looking forward to wrangling your loopy boyfriend out the door and to the car when he's in this state.

"Thank you very much." You express the gratitude for both you and Steve, knowing he's hardly thinking of manners at the moment. He'll thank you for it later. "I did have a—"

"—pssssssst."

You stop talking at the abrupt interruption, both you and Marissa surprised by Steve's interjection.

His attempt at a psst doesn't quite work to the normal effect and instead, he's painted his bottom lip in a bit of blood.

He's looking at Marissa, not you. One of his bunched up arms raises up to his mouth as though he's trying to cup it and hide his words. You resist the urge to pull it back down, worried he'll knock his jaw again.

Marissa, sharing a playful glance in your direction, smiles kindly at Steve.

"Yes, Steve?"

"Can 'ou tell th' nice lady," He's trying to whisper but failing miserably. "That I'm.... I'm..."

Steve scrunches up his face to try to think of a word. He regrets it quickly, another hissed and sluggish owwww leaking out as pain radiates through his face.

Your fingers curl tighter around the bar. It takes effort not to reach for his hand again — or jump in and ask Steve what he wants to say to you. He's clearly trying to be stealthy for a reason, even if it isn't working.

Marissa's pager beeps. She flashes a quick look at it, silences it, then turns back to Steve.

"I'm... 'ot bullshit." He finally spits out.

That surprises you.

Marissa, conversely, seems to be undeterred by such a proclamation. You wonder what else people have said whilst coming back up from anaesthesia. She pats Steve on the arm gently.

"No you aren't."

Steve appears to be bolstered by her agreement, his own head giving a slow nod. He's still speaking in that groggy way, not at all helped by his cotton-stuffed mouth. "Yuh, and I 'ave a— a girlfiend."

Huh?

Marissa catches on a moment before you do, a certain cheek creeping into her smile. She checks her watch, then focuses back on Steve and nods.

"Uh huh, big guy. Your girlfriend's actually here, did you know?"

As her words sink in, Steve's eyes blow wide. He looks equal parts stunned as he does excited.

You realise why he asked who you were and withdrew his hands all at once.

Your smile dissolves into a giddy grin, entirely too endeared by Steve's unbreaking loyalty to you, even if he is barking up the wrong tree.

"S'e is?"

"Yep." Marissa says. She nods in your direction. "And she's gonna take good care of you, alright?"

You wonder if this is the most fun part of her job.

"My girlfien'..." Steve sighs quietly, his eyes hazy. You don't think you're meant to hear it.

Marissa smiles at that and finally begins to backtrack towards the door. She checks her watch again, then says to you, "15 minutes. Then you're free to go."

She waves at Steve as she's disappearing through the door. "I hope you feel better soon, Steve."

Steve makes a valiant attempt at a wave back, but his hand barely hovers above the sheets for a second before he's dropping it back down.

He sighs loudly and a little more blood freckles his bottom lip. He reaches up for his face again and you intercept.

"It'll hurt more if you touch it." You say to explain, then quickly let go of his arm.

It slumps back down and you watch as Steve's face morphs through several different expressions, from frowning distaste to a disbelieving awe.

"Are 'ou..." He asks, slurring out the word. His hand picks up off the bed to curve up, pointing a finger back at his chest. "My girlfiend?"

It comes out tinged with astonishment. You laugh without meaning to.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

Steve struggles to compute your response, given by how his eyes shift away lazily, then slide back to you, still wide.

"Yurrr lyin'," He lolls out the words. He waves one hand up, as if brushing off the joke you're supposedly telling.

"Am not!" You laugh. Then just to prove your point, you reach out and take his hand in yours, cradling it between your palms. "We're pretty serious, baby."

"Yo're 'etty," Steve counters, though pretty comes out strangely as he tries to not move his lips much.

The fact he can flirt back whilst so out of it is a feat, though it proves some of his charisma is just that inherent.

You notice, as he gazes at you, the surprise from earlier has somewhat sapped away but the awe in his face remains.

Steve's hand in yours turns over and he grips one of your thumbs tightly.

"I s'love... bein' a boyfiend," He says, deadly serious. Another roll of dribble escapes the corner of his mouth, yet somehow you're entirely captivated by his small admittances. He loves being a boyfriend.

"'ut dunno if 'mmm good at it. Am I?"

He wants to know if he's a good boyfriend. There's a little wobble in your heartstrings at his genuine concern.

You curl your fingers back around his hand tighter and nod. "Definitely."

Steve exhales a big sigh of relief, his eyes slipping shut as he gives your thumb a half-hearted squeeze.

"S'good." He mumbles.

As you soothe your fingertips over his hand, you hope his loopy mutterings aren't a manifestation of some constant worry you don't know about. It's normal to want to be a good partner. But Steve's own mention of bullshit is enough to make you unsure.

Is this what worries him? Are you not doing a good job at communicating back just how happy Steve makes you?

On the bed, Steve's eyes open again, seeking you out in languid, sleepy blinks. Upon finding you, he smiles. Well, you think he smiles.

What really happens is his face twitches and then he's making another drawn out owwww as he moves around his fresh wounds too much.

"Try not to move too much," You remind him. "It will keep making it ow, baby."

Despite what you've said, Steve continues to shift about—though you realise he's merely trying to inch closer to you. He's twisted a little, his shoulder curving towards you, but his head still laid flat.

"Can I 'it up?"

His speech is clearing up a bit, the words coming out better formed now. You nod at his request and shake off his grip on your thumb to hold his forearms, gently urging him up. It takes a moment, but he manages.

He's curved over like a shrimp, slumped and struggling to support himself.

You quickly stack the pillows behind him into more of a support and lead him to lean back against them. Steve lets you, gripping your forearms tightly as if he's afraid you'll drop him.

One settled, he releases his tight grip and gives another loud sigh. You're not fast enough to intercept his hand this time, Steve raising the back of it to wipe his mouth with.

It comes away with a smear of blood and saliva.

The volume of it must surprise Steve because he's dragging his hand back from his face, that same suspicious squint back on his face. He spots what he's wiped from his face and his eyebrows crease.

"Eeeew."

A giggle titters out of you. Steve is instantly distracted from his gross hand, his expression smoothing out as his head swings toward you.

"Hafta tell you somethin'," Steve says. His head sways a bit unsteadily as he thinks hard.

His groggy gaze draws down and up your face intently and you realise after a moment, he may have just checked you out.

"Yeah? What do you have to tell me?"

Steve nods as though he's the one who's spoken.

"Yea," He murmurs, then holds his hand up like he wants you to take it. It's the non-slobbered one, thankfully. You do take it, resuming the same soothing hold from earlier, this time intertwining your fingers.

Steve does another frog-blink, staring at your interlaced fingers. He drags his gaze up and slurps a bit as he inhales. "There waz... another lady here. But I tol' her. Tol' her."

He nods seriously, staring at you like he's waiting for you to nod along.

Your mouth twists into a poorly restrained smile. You wonder if he's talking about Marissa or if he's forgotten you were the other lady here earlier too.

"Told her what?"

"Tol' her," Steve repeats surely. He squeezes your hand and then shifts, not liking the intertwined fingers. He resumes his hold around your thumb. "I speaken."

Okay, you're getting a little bit better at decoding loopy Steve-speak, but this one? Lost on you.

You wiggle your thumb in his hold and furrow your brows a bit exaggeratedly so he can catch on that you don't quite understand.

"I," Steve slurs. He's moved his other hand up to jab himself in the chest, referring to himself — then he casts it in the direction of the door. "Taken."

It takes a moment, but his gesture is enough to clue you in. Another sugary, giddy wave singes your nerves. God, he's sweet.

You grin at him adoringly, leaning in to brush a piece of hair back from his face. Steve's skin is warm beneath your touch.

"You're told her you're spoken for, huh?" You coo softly, petting his hair back.

Steve preens at your understanding, managing a nod and a bright-eyed adoring gaze at you.

You run your hand over his hair again because he seems to like it and his eyes flutter under your sweet ministrations. His head nearly lolls back to dip into the pillow, but he catches it at the last moment.

"Yuh," He says absently. He nods again, focusing hard on meeting your eye. "Tol' her." He repeats again.

It seems it's very important to Steve that you know he would never ever think about cheating on you — even if it's with, well, you.

"Thank you, baby," You say, meaning it completely.

Steve smiles as much as he can, a sluggish half-motion that somehow makes him look even dopier. His eyes wander and he catches sight of the glob of blood and spit atop of his hand.

His eyes widen almost comically. He frowns worriedly and picks his hand up, holding it out in front of him, "Oughhh, wuh 'appened?"

The genuine concern in his words and his apparent very short-term memory makes it hard not to snort in amusement. Squeezing his hand again, you try to remain composed.

"Your wisdom teeth, remember? They took them out because they were hurting you."

"You're s' nice," Steve says, dropping his hand limply, the blood on it quickly forgotten. His fingers around your thumb tighten, giving another weak squeeze. "'M glad you're my girlfiend."

"I'm glad you're my boyfriend." You assure him sweetly.

"Yea?" Steve's gone back to that slow blink. He leans forward, shoulder hunched over, the whole motion seeming conspiratorial. He tries to whisper again. "Have'a 'nother secret."

Your brows raise. Another secret?

"Wanna tell me it?" You ask.

Steve nods sagely. He beckons you in closer with a limp wave of his hand, tugging slightly on your thumb. You lean in closer, unable to hide your grin at his antics.

"I," Steve pauses for a long, long moment. You watch as his eyes track back and forth sluggishly, very clearly trying to put his rapidly disappearing thoughts into order.

"I t'ink," He finally says, sounding more sure this time. "I lov' you. But shhhhhh. S'itsa secret."

Oh. Now, that is a secret. You and Steve have been dating for a while now, like you said it's serious, but not quite long enough to exchange any I love you's. Not just yet.

Only it's not really secret after all. You know.

You know in the same way you already know Steve's favourite perfume of yours and the way he likes his coffee in the morning. How he loves to hold your hand and doesn't ask, but loves it when you kiss him on the temple.

You've never asked. Enough time spent together and you just know these things.

Like how you love Steve and he loves you.

You grin brazenly, not even trying to stop it now.

"I'll keep your secret safe," You promise him. "Wanna hear one of my secrets? I love you too."

Steve clings to your hand preciously and his face takes on an expression which you can only describe as utterly starry-eyed. His hazel eyes, bright and less foggy now, stare at you owlishly. You'd give a handful of pennies to know what he's thinking right now.

"S'good," He finally says. Which makes you bark in laughter, as if he's saying glad that's settled.

"Yea' s'good." He inhales a big, slurping kind of breath and exhales. His shoulders sit a little more relaxed now and you wonder how long he's been waiting to tell you that.

You wonder more how he'll react when you tell him he spilled the beans while high out of his mind.

Then, just to spoil it — or sweeten it, depending on how you see it — he leans back over and whispers, "Wha's your name again?"

[mamawasatesttube]

i keep thinking to myself, god we have got to put tim drake in a time loop. but also time loops just feel so perfectly like speedster bullshit, yknow? therefore lemme just smash these thoughts together like particles at cern aaannddd--

let's put tim in a time loop that bart accidentally caused. a tim loop, if you will :) specifically, tim loop where kon dies at the end and bart just kind of subconsciously went nope! and "if anyone can fix it it's tim right?" bc bart has. a normal amount of faith in his friends but also a normal amount of feelings about himself being useless to save kon bc he couldn't in infinite crisis.

and bam suddenly tim is having the worst tuesday of his life like 20 times in a row. yippee! it's bart-powered but he doesn't even know. he did it on accident. bart in the loop doesn't know what's going on. it just resets every time the ending is something bart can't accept (kon dies again). tim tries to sacrifice himself to save kon once but somehow that doesn't break the loop either (bart refuses to accept that). how long can tim go through a time loop before he goes completely bonkers bananas insane? only tim(e) will tell.

and, worse: how many times can tim watch kon die? how many times can he beg kon to value his own life, to get it through his head that being a hero doesn't mean he needs to die for the world, that there must be another way? how many times can he watch kon sacrifice himself to save others and know that if he stops kon, those people might die?

how fucked up would he be if he ever actually found out just how suicidal kon has been his entire life?

extra fun: cassie takes one look at him every time and instantly clocks that he's feeling like shit, but every time she forgets why, because the loop resets. tim is being perceived but it never lasts. this will drive him crazy so fast. he's gonna start acting out and snapping at her for being concerned because what's the POINT of talking about his feelings if everything resets ANYWAY. this will definitely not come back to bite him in the end or anything, right?

(kon-el dead wife giggling in the sunshine and playing under the sheets montage plays over and over for both tim and bart. this probably means nothing.)

[bananafire11]

Redraw of the new Jax render cuz im normal

And some stupid doodles ft. Wretched! Jax

[anna-scribbles]

chapter cards for thirteen: november - april

read on ao3

[laurellala-comics]

I finished watching a playthrough of the first Apollo Justice game WAAAAH NOBODY TALK TO ME I'M EMOTIONAL WAAAAAH THAT WAS SOOO SO EPIC AND GOOD. I'll draw nice things later, for now take these sillies

[fandomhorde]

In the beginning, there was an author with a dream.

But the dream grew legs.

And when it did, I grinned.

Oh, the way I grinned.

Mwahahahahahaha (Boss music starts playing)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they tried to rebrand as The Criminals but riz is literally the city council's treasurer and also turns out people in their late 20s don't really name their friend groups. so now they're The Intrepid Heroes