#stop being mean to jon :<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[jon-sedai]

ASOIAF discourse would be a lot more fun if we all realized that every single person who has been put in a position of leadership/rulership fails in one way or another. Jon and Dany failing is not an indictment on their abilities to lead or rule. They’re kids, they still have shit to figure out. Given “what was Aragorn’s tax policy”, I doubt GRRM will write a story that will feature the appearance of a most perfect ruler ever who will be a total success instead Jon and Dany who were tOtAl FlOpS. Especially if this person has no previous experience that has been detailed within the text itself. That’s not only antithetical to the series, but also not how you write a narrative.

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

The tma season 1 finale is rattling my brain…Gertrude….the tunnels….Sasha…..Jon….all of the connections….uuugghhhh

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Stupid TMA AU where Elias Bouchard is the bodyhopper and everyone is confusedly trying to understand how the workaholic master manipulator evil and definitivaly full Eye avatar upstart Jonah Magnus just became the weird unconfortable weed uncle that the Eye just sort tolerates.

[r-u-b-y-18]

My biggest fear currently is that the Brendon Urie hate will come back ten-fold and then cause the panic! set at wwwy to be cancelled

[magnuspanoptes]

more jon gothic hero(ine) hours

As a newcomer to the Count’s castle – like Emily in Udolpho – Harker is disempowered through ignorance of the internal configuration of his new residence.

His maps, photographs and legal oversight of properties located far to the west have no significance here.

The rooms into which he may enter are restricted,

and even his right of egress to the outside world is suspended.

Dracula’s Debts to the Gothic Romance, William Hughes // MAG 65 - "Binary" // MAG 81 - "A Guest for Mr. Spider" // MAG 92 - "Nothing Beside Remains" // MAG 160 - "The Eye Opens" // MAG 161 - "Dwelling"

[desperatecheesecubes]

Look how happy Clark is to get to be a dad again 🥹

[anaceshornyblog]

Jon thought he was safe.

A stupid thought really now that he considered it. Just because he had managed to grasp a bit of power in his hands didn’t mean there wasn’t a bigger monster waiting to pounce. Jon cowered beneath the old cot, hoping the monster would overlook him this once.

As the footsteps sounded through the Archive Jon couldn’t hold back a quiet whimper, trying to make himself small, to be unnoticed. He couldn’t get quite as small as he used to, not with his stomach the size it was, but he tried to curl up, to protect both of them. If he could just hide long enough surely Elias would come, if not for Jon, than for the baby, right?

In his bid to make himself small he had lost track of the footsteps, a stupid thing to do really. He was of the Eye he should be able to know anything in his domain. Should meant very little when the only thing he could focus on was terror.

“Hello little rabbit,” Jon couldn’t hold back a scream as his ankle was grabbed and pulled backward. He tried to grab onto anything, but Jon was weak, and underfed, so he was easily pulled out and half-thrown against the wall.

Jon did his best to curve himself around his stomach, shielding it as he hit the wall. He felt something crack and he screamed again, though he could almost feel the break healing, a few moments later. He pushed himself up as best he could, blood from whatever hand broken dripping down his leg.

“Knew I smelled a monster down here,” The hunter looked quite the monster himself. The part of Jon that was the Eye, found it comparable to the description of the wolf creature from Virginia. The rest of him could only whimper, trying to make himself small.

“Please, please don’t hurt us please,” Jon’s arms were wrapped tight around his belly shielding his baby as best he could, in case the Hunter attacked. Jon could see the monster’s grin widen as he took in Jon’s condition. Jons pleas became frightened whimpers, his whole body trembling, he could feel terror starting to paralyze him.

“Well looks like I’ve bagged two monsters this hunt.” The Hunter reached toward Jon’s stomach, claws stretched out. Knowing he couldn’t let the man hurt his baby, Jon threw himself to the side the claws narrowly missing his belly instead digging into his side. Jon screamed again, blood was now pooling beneath him, the wounds healing sluggishly. He had to move, he had to, he had to protect his baby.

“Now now, you’ve been caught little rabbit, no trying to run away now.” Jon ignored him scrabbling to his feet, he just needed to get to Elias, Elias would the baby. The hunter grabbed for him, and though he didn’t get a good grip he managed to dig his claws into Jon’s shoulder. Jon couldn’t hold back a yelp of pain as he tore free, blood now dripping down his arm, as he sprinted for the door hearing laughter behind him.

It was fine he could see the door, it was just a bit farther. Once he got there he’d be safe, they both would be. He made it halfway there before the monster was on him, his arms wrapping around his waist just above his stomach. Jon tried to kick free, thrashing, cornered prey knowing that if they stopped fighting they’d be eaten. The Hunter barely seemed to notice other than tightening his grip as he laughed in his ear.

“I win” Jon could feel the Hunter’s hot against his skin. Could feel the terror, the hopelessness pooling in his chest. He was going to die, the monster was going to kill him, and his baby, because he was too weak, too scared. Jon started to cry, heaving sobs, as his struggles started weaken, blood loss robbing him of the little fight he had left.

“I’m disappointed,” Jon froze as he felt a spray of warm blood across his face, as a bullet slammed into the Hunter’s skull. Jon fell to the ground, as the monster collapsed seemingly not as hardy as the creature it resembled, or weak in a place of power not its own.

“Such a pathetic little thing aren’t you?” Jon couldn’t refute the statement as he half crawled toward Elias. Elias’s expression as always was impossible to read as he looked down at him. He hesitated, Elias was as usual pristine, while Jon looked like he had, well like he had just almost been mauled to death by a predator and not gotten off unscathed. Elias closed the distance pulling him close, examining Jon with an expression that Jon if he was better at reading others, would call hungry.

“Didn’t even try to fight did you? Just ran and hid like just like a little rabbit,” Elias smirked as he pressed his lips to Jon’s bloody ones. Some part of Jon, a very tiny part wondered at the fact that Elias called him what the hunter had, surely a coincidence. The rest of him was busy kissing Elias back, Jon noticed Elias was hard against him, and Jon couldn’t help but moan. That small part of him also objected to this, Jon had almost just died, this shouldn’t be a turn on, Jon told that part to shut up.

“So terrified, what if I hadn’t come Jon, were you going to just roll over for this monster too?” Jon was starting to feel a bit floaty, probably due to his adrenaline draining, and the blood loss. Without much of his own input found himself undressed, bloody clothes already half shredded anyway.

“Of course I had to come save you,” Elias laid Jon gently on the least occupied desk, caressing his swollen stomach. Jon wondered briefly if Elias would have let him get eaten if the baby wasn’t his. His brain went blank again as Elias thrust into him, Jon gasping, not quite ready, but he wasn’t really able to think.

“Such a pretty little thing,” The hungry look was back, he kept one hand on Jon’s stomach the other tracing one of Jon’s new scars as some of the shallower scratches had finished healing. Blood painted his fingers leaving streaks of red on Jon’s breast as he teased his nipples. Jon came like a thunderclap, his continued use quickly becoming overwhelming, but Elias didn’t stop. Jon couldn’t do much more than lay there and take it, mewling as he was used.

“You’ll have to eat better you know? I’ve let this go on too long, you need to be stronger for the baby,” Jon opened his mouth to argue, there was a reason he couldn’t, but the reason fled his brain as Elias thrust harder. Jon keened as he came again, blood loss and adrenaline drain finally catching up as he could feel himself start to pass out.

“You looked so lovely terrified out of your pretty mind.” Jon wasn’t sure if he imagined those words as darkness settled over him, and he knew no more.

[froglords]

jon stop yellin at martin n just kiss already

[clownpassing]

Crying againnn ugh

[saicochomo]

Bruce in collage loved to dress feminly and do his make up and became weirdly good at doing female voices. But because of the batman and other life things he goes though he drops all of this.

Jason: *Burst into the room where the fam is just chilling* Yall I have found a gold mine

Dick: And that this?

Jason: So Roy has given me the greatest gift-

Steph: Removing that stick up your ass

Jason: Fuck off no, he raided Ollies room looking for what ever and found this *Holds up a tape*

*Everyone looks at it curiously*

Jason: This is Bruce in his collage years

Bruce who was sitting on the couch reading the paper minding his own business is now very alert of the whole situation, worried that his son has gotten a hold of a sex tape incrementing photo of him. mean while everyone eager to see what is on the tape

Bruce: Have you seen what's on it? *Starts sweating nervously*

Jason: Not yet, thought we as a family could have some bonding time. And would you out father, the man who want all of us get along really ruin this bonding moment for us

Dick: Yes Bruce, we are having some much needed family time

Damian: I do not believe that seeing Father in collage would warrant bonding time. Tim: Especially since he's a drop out

Jason: I may not have seen what's on here but Roy has and he told me it was well worth it.

Bruce is getting ready to jump to break the TV as Jason sets up the tape so they can all see what's on the tape

Que a video of Bruce drunkenly dancing on a stage like stripper dressed in the whorish thing known to man with make up that looks as if it was done by a professional. Oliver could be heard cheering Bruce on while Bruce sings to Material Girl.

All the batkids are absolutely shocked by this their eyes glued to the TV.

Tim: *Whiping his mouth after spitting out his coffee now being more awake then he has been in weeks* Damn Bruce I didn't know you where a raging femboy in Collage the hell?!

Dick: Or such a... talented dancer

Bruce is hiding behind his paper trying to avoid the gawking stars of his kids

Steph: More importantly who ever is singing is so talented give more air time to the chick singing Ollie! *Steph yells at the TV like he could hear her*

Bruce: That's me

Jason: I'm sorry what was that Bruce

Bruce: I'm the one singing

Batkids: Huh?!

Steph: WHY HAVE WE NEVER SEEN THIS SIDE OF YOU

Bruce: It's not that important

Dick: Not important Bruce! This is the most important thing. More so did you do that make-up yourself?????

Bruce: Yes

Steph: Do mine! Bruce do my make-up right now or I will commit mass murder

Bruce: I uh Steph that really isn't ness-

Steph grabbing reaching to grab one of Damians swords who is now getting ready to fight Steph

Bruce: Steph stop, alright I'll do your make-up

They all then spend the next few hours letting Bruce do full glam looks on them, while they listen to Madona. Damian even got in on it after pretending he is only doing this because Dick says he gets in on more family bonding time, but he is the one that keeps the look on the longest totally not sending photos to Jon to make him jealous

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Somewhere beneath those roofs, the Sons of the Harpy were gathered, plotting ways to kill her and all those who loved her and put her children back in chains. Somewhere down there a hungry child was crying for milk. Somewhere an old woman lay dying. Somewhere a man and a maid embraced, and fumbled at each other's clothes with eager hands. But up here there was only the sheen of moonlight on pyramids and pits, with no hint what lay beneath. Up here there was only her, alone. She was the blood of the dragon. She could kill the Sons of the Harpy, and the sons of the sons, and the sons of the sons of the sons. But a dragon could not feed a hungry child nor help a dying woman's pain. And who would ever dare to love a dragon? —ADWD, Daenerys II

Interviewer: One could argue that more can be learned about everyday politics from your novels than from the newspaper.

George: I did indeed intend to make politics one of the main themes of these novels. I hope to make my readers reflect on political issues. For example, when Daenerys Targaryen conquers a city of slave traders and tries to rule it, she realizes that good intentions alone do not make a government program. There is a series of very difficult decisions to make and, no matter what you do, people will hate you.

Interviewer: Even if one has three dragons.

George: Exactly. The dragons are metaphors.

Interviewer: Virtually the nuclear weapons of your world.

George: The most terrible weapon! However, they don't put you in a position to abolish poverty, make everyone love you, or lead a happy life. You can very well use them to burn things down, to destroy your enemies, cities, and entire cultures, but that doesn't solve the problem of good governance.

- George R.R. Martin, The Father Of Fire And Ice

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Gwen is so insecure and so openly insecure that she might win against season 1 Jon in the insecurity game (and just like him she is disliked and mocked for it - tangent here to talk about how much Jonny wanted us to know no one in the Instute rly liked Jon BEFORE he become an eldrish horror and how insecure s1 Jon was like it came up A LOT) and I feel bad for her. Hope it gets better, queen.

[rizzanon]

Babysitter

a damian wayne and batsis! reader oneshot ft. jon kent | m.list

Summary: your brother forces you to take him and his bestfriend along with you to wherever you’re going

You had a plan. A flawless, well-thought-out, foolproof plan.

Step one: Move quietly.

Step two: Avoid creaky floorboards.

Step three: Do not alert Damian Wayne, resident bloodhound.

You had your hand on the doorknob, your shoes were on.

You had one foot out the door. No one in sight. Freedom just within reach—

“Going somewhere?”

Your whole body froze.

Goddamnit it.

You knew that voice.

You closed your eyes, inhaled sharply through your nose, and prayed to whatever higher power was listening that maybe—just maybe—if you ignored him, he’d disappear.

No such luck.

A second voice, softer but just as damning, followed.

“Uh, I told him we should just let you go, but…”

You sighed. Of course.

With a slow turn, you met the unimpressed stare of Damian Wayne, standing in the dim hallway like the world’s smallest, most judgmental security system. His arms were crossed, his expression far too smug for someone who had no business being awake right now. And right beside him, slightly hunched and looking far too apologetic, was Jon Kent.

You stared at them. They stared back.

Finally, you spoke.

“I knew I should’ve left through the window.”

Jon winced. “Sorry. Again, I did say we should just let you go—”

“But he didn’t,” you deadpanned, shooting a look at Damian.

Damian tilted his head, unbothered. “Because you’re sneaking out.”

You scoffed. “I am not sneaking out—”

“You’re leaving without me. That’s the same thing.”

“It is not—”

“Semantics.”

You groaned louder. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“Likewise,” Damian said flatly.

Jon, still watching this exchange like a confused referee, hesitantly raised a hand. “I feel like I should stop this.

At the exact same time, without missing a beat, you and Damian both turned to him and snapped—

“You stay out of this.”

Jon immediately took a step back, hands up in surrender. “Ah. Alright.”

You dragged a hand down your face, inhaling slowly before fixing your glare on Damian again.

“So,” you said, voice strained, “what do you want, Damian?”

Damian ignored your question. “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Wrong answer.

“Tt. Incorrect. It is my business, because you’re taking us with you.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“No, yeah, I heard you. I just don’t think I should have.”

Jon stepped in, looking a little apologetic. “Sorry, he kinda roped me into this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a flat look before turning back to Damian. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“To accompany you.”

“Why?”

“You require supervision.”

You stared.

“…I require— Damian, I’m older than you.”

“By an unfortunate number of years, yes.”

You inhaled sharply, clenching your fists. “I don’t need supervision, you little gremlin.”

Jon cleared his throat. “To be fair, I think he means he needs supervision.”

You stared. “You require— Damian, you’re forcing me to babysit you?”

“Tt. Babysit is a strong word.”

“That’s literally what’s happening.”

“I prefer guardian escort.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yet here we are.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply before muttering, “Where’s Alfred?”

“Out.”

“Dick?”

“Busy.”

“Tim?”

“Comatose, most likely.”

“Cass?”

“Training.”

“Jason?”

“Wouldn’t care.”

Your eye twitched. “And Dad?”

Damian raised an unimpressed brow.

“…Right,” you muttered.

Jon shot you another apologetic smile. “So, uh… that just leaves you?”

You let your head fall back with a long, suffering groan. “You are not going out with me.”

“And you’re supposed to be grounded.”

“That’s why I’m sneaking out, dipshit.”

There was a brief silence.

Damian let out a long, dramatic sigh, like you were the most exhausting person alive. “You continue to delude yourself if you think you’ll be able to succeed in sneaking out.”

“I hate you.”

Jon cleared his throat. “Um—”

Your expression softened immediately as you turned to him. “Not you, Jon. You’re fine. You’re good. Damian’s the problem.”

Jon blinked. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a tiny, bashful smile, cheeks just a little pink.

“Oh. Uh. Thanks?”

Damian, meanwhile, squinted. “What the hell?”

You ignored him, turning back to Jon. “See? This is how you behave, Damian. Maybe take notes.”

Damian’s scowl deepened. “I am nice.”

You snorted. “To who?”

“To you.” Damian snapped, like it was obvious.

Jon let out a tiny, poorly suppressed laugh.

You shot him a look. “Jon. Don’t encourage him.”

“Sorry,” Jon said, not looking sorry at all.

Damian scoffed. “So where are you even going?”

“Out.”

“Not without us.”

You stared. “No. Absolutely not.”

Damian just blinked.

Jon shuffled a little, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “I mean… if you don’t want us to come, that’s okay, I guess…”

And there it was.

The puppy-dog eyes.

You winced.

Damn it.

Jon Kent had mastered the art of looking genuinely dejected, and it was so unfair.

You hesitated. Pressed your lips together. “…It’s not that I don’t want you to come, it’s just—”

“Great,” Damian interrupted. “Then let’s go.”

You groaned. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You’re not exactly convincing me otherwise.”

“I will fight you.”

“I will win.”

Jon coughed. “This feels counterproductive.”

You shot him a betrayed look. “Jon. I thought we were friends.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I do want to go, though…”

Your eye twitched. You knew he was being genuine. But damn, he was dangerously good at making you feel so mean. You sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers.

“I hate being the responsible one.”

Damian smirked. “Then be irresponsible and take us with you.”

You snapped your head back down to glare at him. “That’s not how this works, moron.”

Jon stifled a laugh.

Damian just tilted his head, completely unfazed. “Yet here we are.”

You clenched your jaw. Closed your eyes. Took a very deep breath.

Then, begrudgingly—

“Fine.”

Jon brightened. “Really?”

You shot him a look. “Not like I have a choice, apparently.”

Damian’s smirk widened, victorious.

“But there are rules.”

You pushed the door open, already regretting everything. “One: No causing trouble. Two: No running off. Three—” You turned sharply to glare at Damian. “No murder.”

Jon blinked. “That has to be a rule?”

You looked at him, dead serious. “You’d be surprised.”

Damian scoffed. “You act as if I lack self-control.”

“You literally tried to stab a man at the grocery store last week.”

“He cut in line.”

“You pulled out a knife, Damian.”

“And?”

Jon looked as if he was used to this.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You are literally going to be the death of me.”

“Unlikely,” Damian deadpanned.

Jon patted your arm sympathetically. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“I don’t want to breathe.”

“Understandable, but necessary.”

Damian scoffed. “Are you done yet?”

“Oh, I’m done,” you muttered, pushing open the door. “So done.”

And with that, you stepped outside, the two boys following close behind.

This was going to be a long day.

The night air was crisp, Gotham’s usual symphony of distant sirens, honking cars, and murmured conversations blending into the background as you walked down the quiet streets. The dim glow of streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk, but your focus was on the two boys trailing beside you.

Jon was practically buzzing with excitement, barely able to keep himself from skipping as he shot off rapid-fire questions.

“So, what were you going to do?”

You hummed. “What do you think I was gonna do?”

Jon tilted his head. “Go fight bad guys?”

You chuckled. “Nope.”

“Scout for intel?”

“Nope.”

“Secret mission?”

“Jon,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hold your horses, kid. We’re doing nothing of that sort. Not when I’m around.”

Jon pouted but grinned anyway, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “Well, then what are we doing?”

Before you could answer, you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye.

Damian.

The boy had taken two steps to the side, eyes locked on the nearest alleyway, looking entirely too ready to vanish into the night.

“Oh, hell no.”

You reached out, snagging the back of his hoodie and pulling him to a halt.

“That goes for you too, mister,” you said, voice firm.

Damian let out an audible groan. “Tt.”

Jon blinked, confused. “Uh—what exactly was he about to do?”

“Disappear into the shadows”

Jon turned to Damian, frowning. “Dude.”

Damian merely sniffed, looking vaguely offended at the idea that he of all people needed babysitting. “I was merely about to scout the area for any dangers.”

You gave him a flat look. “We’re on a sidewalk, Damian.”

“And?”

You exhaled sharply. “You are not ditching me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“Tt. You have no proof.”

“I have a brain.”

Jon held up a finger. “Technically, that’s not proof—”

You turned to him, exasperated. “Jon.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

Damian crossed his arms, unimpressed. “So, what are we doing?”

You just smiled.

Luxurious. That was the only word for the place you were in.

Soft, ambient lighting filled the space, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The gentle sound of water trickling from an ornamental fountain mixed with the low, soothing hum of instrumental music playing from hidden speakers. A faint scent of lavender, eucalyptus, and something faintly citrusy hung in the air, lulling your body into relaxation almost instantly.

You let out a slow sigh, sinking further into the plush lounge chair as the nail technician expertly shaped your nails. Across from you, Jon was already wrapped up in a fluffy white robe, a cooling face mask spread across his skin, and a woman massaging his shoulders. He looked blissful.

Damian, on the other hand, was sitting stiffly in a massage chair, arms crossed, looking like he was being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment. His expression was set into a deep scowl, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders had started to relax under the therapist’s touch—albeit reluctantly.

You smirked, wiggling your fingers as the technician moved on to buffing your nails. “Well?”

“Tt.”

Damian’s eyes were shut as if that alone could block out his misery. “You dragged us to a spa.”

You grinned. “I treated you to a spa.”

Damian let out another Tt.

You turned to him, amused. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

Damian scowled. “I don’t see the point.”

“The point,” you drawled, stretching your legs, “is relaxation.”

“I don’t need relaxation.”

“You literally live with Bruce Wayne. You need it the most.”

Jon let out a snort of laughter.

Damian shot him a glare. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just grinned wider, looking far too content. “Nope.”

You chuckled, letting your head fall back against the chair. “Face it, Damian. You like it here.”

“I hate this.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I loathe you.”

You didn’t miss the way his shoulders had slowly started to loosen.

Or the way his scowl wasn’t as deep as before.

“You love me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jon let out a happy sigh, sinking deeper into his chair. “I knew you had a good plan.”

You shot him finger guns. “Always do.”

Jon chuckled, then suddenly let out a little noise of contentment as the massage therapist pressed into his shoulders just right. He melted into the chair, the sheer bliss evident on his face.

“Aww,” you cooed, reaching over to gently pat his head. “Look at you, kid. Living the life.”

Jon made a happy little noise in response, fully leaning into the massage.

Damian scowled. “Are you coddling him?”

“Yes,” you said immediately.

Damian scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

You smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to be coddled?”

Damian’s entire face twisted into disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You laughed, nudging Jon. “See? He’s jealous.”

Jon barely opened one eye, too relaxed to care. “Yep.”

Damian turned his glare to him now. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just smiled. “Just saying the truth, Damian.”

“You wish.”

You stifled a laugh, watching Damian attempt to shrink further into his chair, clearly regretting ever coming along. You were definitely going to remind him of this later.

The spa had been a fantastic idea—well, for you and Jon, at least.

Damian? Not so much.

At first, he acted as if he were enduring actual torture. When they tried to give him a robe, he scowled as if they’d offered him poison. When they led him to the massage chair, he sat down stiffly, arms crossed, eyes darting around as though expecting an assassination attempt. The moment the massage therapist placed their hands on his shoulders, his entire body locked up.

“This is unnecessary,” Damian muttered as you and Jon stifled your laughter.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, leaning back as a technician buffed your nails. “Completely unnecessary. That’s why you’re staying right there and relaxing.”

“I am always relaxed.”

You and Jon shared a look.

Jon, his face already covered in a cooling mask, turned toward Damian. “Dude, your entire body is clenched like a steel beam.”

“Tt. I am merely prepared.”

“Prepared for what? A surprise attack by the scented candles?” you teased.

Damian glared at you, but then the massage therapist hit a particular spot on his back, and you swore you saw his soul briefly leave his body. His lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering for a split second before he forcibly locked himself down again, pretending nothing had happened.

“Oh my god,” you grinned. “You liked that.”

Damian turned his head away, nose upturned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he did shift ever so slightly to let the massage therapist work deeper into his back. You and Jon exchanged victorious smirks but wisely didn’t comment further.

Well—except for Jon’s quiet, “Told you you’d like it.”

Damian kicked him under the table.

After a tedious amount of time, Damian had finally let himself relax. Not entirely—he was still Damian, after all—but enough that he no longer looked like he wanted to eviscerate someone.

Jon, meanwhile, had been living the dream since the moment you arrived. You’d made sure to book an extensive package for him, complete with a massage, a face mask, a manicure, and even a foot scrub.

The problem?

Jon’s Kryptonian genes.

The poor spa technicians had no idea what they had signed up for.

It started when they tried using a gua sha stone on his face.

The second they dragged the tool across his cheek, there was a horrifying screech—the sound of something hard scraping against something impenetrable.

The esthetician froze, blinking at the gua sha in her hand.

Jon winced. “Uh…”

Then she tried again. More forcefully.

SCCCRRREEEEEEE—

Damian cringed as the sound echoed through the room, making your ears ring. “That is unbearable.”

“I—I don’t think it’s supposed to sound like that,” Jon said weakly.

The esthetician, determined, switched to a jade roller.

The exact same thing happened.

“Okay,” the woman murmured, frowning. “We’ll, uh, circle back to that.”

Then came the body scrub.

Which was supposed to be exfoliating.

Except the scrub was doing nothing.

Jon, ever the polite one, just smiled sheepishly as the technician literally pushed down with all her strength, trying to get some kind of reaction.

“…You don’t feel anything?” she asked, breathless.

“Uh.” Jon paused. “I mean. It’s kinda nice?”

Damian looked deeply entertained. “This is absurd.”

You nudged him. “You’re absurd.”

“Tt.”

Then came the nail buffing.

Oh, the nail buffing.

The technician tasked with filing Jon’s nails was genuinely putting her whole body into it. You could see her arm muscles flexing as she went back and forth, desperately trying to shape his nails with an emery board that had already worn down to nothing.

At one point, she wiped her forehead. “Are you sure you’re not wearing, like… armor?”

Jon laughed nervously. “Nope, this is, uh, all-natural.”

The woman blinked. Then, deciding to just accept that reality was being weird today, simply nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll… figure something out.”

Jon beamed. “Thanks!”

You patted his head. “Good job, buddy.”

Jon grinned. “I think this is nice.”

And truly, it was. You were finally getting a break, Damian had sort of warmed up to the experience, and Jon was having the time of his life.

It was peaceful.

It was relaxing.

It was exactly what you needed.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

The peace was shattered by the sound of screaming outside.

Your head snapped toward the spa entrance just in time to see a group of civilians running past in a panic. Then—explosions.

And the unmistakable whir of something mechanical.

You bolted upright.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Jon was already standing, ripping the robe off and revealing his Superboy costume underneath.

Damian, meanwhile, pulled a full Batman move by seemingly materializing his utility belt and weapons out of nowhere.

Before you could even say anything, the two boys were gone—leaping straight out the spa’s open balcony.

You turned to the wide-eyed spa staff, letting out a long sigh.

“Boys being boys, am I right?” You forced a smile, desperately trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. “They’re die-hard fans for action. Can’t help themselves.”

For a brief moment, the room was silent as the estheticians exchanged confused glances.

Then, in the most awkward and abrupt way possible, you scrambled to grab your purse, fumbling around as you threw an absolutely ridiculous sum of cash onto the counter—enough to more than cover the treatments, plus a hefty tip for the staff that definitely deserved more than a little credit for surviving this spa chaos.

The technicians just stared at the money, stunned into silence.

You didn’t stick around for questions.

You bolted after the two boys—still wrapped in your robe, your hair tied up in a towel, and your face mask half-finished.

You were praying—praying—that the day would somehow not end up on the news—though you knew full well that was already a lost cause. But hey, at least you were going to have one heck of a story to tell.

You finally made it to the street corner, and saw Amazo-tech robots rampaging through the streets, blasting apart cars and sending civilians running. Jon was in the air, flying between them, lasers shooting from his eyes as he took them down one by one. Damian was on the ground, expertly maneuvering around, slicing through the robots’ weak points.

You were impressed.

But you were also trying not to yell at the two boys.

Because Damian was still wearing his spa robe over his Robin suit.

And Jon still had his facial mask on.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, laughing despite the absurdity. “Just once, I want a normal day out.”

But then again, in Gotham, that was never going to happen.

The Batcave had never felt so… tense. The lights flickered above, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the dark expressions of the adults standing before you. You, Damian, and Jon stood side by side, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

Bruce was standing at the forefront, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes narrow and calculating. Alfred, behind him, looked as if he were about to take away all your privileges for the rest of your lives. Clark had one hand over his face, clearly trying to stifle an impending headache, while Lois had her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to explode in frustration.

The silence stretched on, suffocating. Then, finally, Bruce spoke, his voice quiet but stern.

“So,” he said, voice level. “Would you care to explain yourselves?”

Before you could even open your mouth—

“It was her idea,” Damian said immediately, pointing at you.

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me—”

He met your glare with a simple, “You were the adult in charge.”

You gaped at him. “Oh, so now I’m the adult?! When I was paying for the spa day, you were more than happy to—”

“Tt.”

“Don’t you ‘Tt’ me, you little shit..!”.”

Bruce let out a long, suffering sigh.

Jon cleared his throat. “It all worked out, though. We saved the day, didn’t we?”

The adults all exchanged a look, their faces unreadable for a moment. Lois then shakes her head and pulled out her phone, tapping something before showing the screen.

It was a photo.

A civilian had snapped a very clear picture of the battle—showing Robin, still in his spa robe, kicking an Amazo-robot in the face while Superboy, face still covered in a facial mask, was mid-air punching another.

It was already trending.

Jon looked at it.

Then, sheepishly, he shrugged.

“…It was nice...?”

Clark just let out a hearty chuckle.

“Well, it’s a memorable way to save Gotham. At least you three enjoyed yourselves.” he said, earning a small chuckle from Lois.

Bruce closed his eyes, clearly questioning his life choices. He rubbed his temples as Lois and Clark just share a look. “….We will discuss this later. Go and get yourselves cleaned up.”

It’s safe to say that your grounding just got a whole lot longer.

i had this as a scene to write for undoing fate but it didn’t quite fit into it as much as i’d like it to so it became a oneshot outside of it instead (completely unrelated to undoing fate but you can imagine it happening between chapter 7-9 when they’re posted lol) but hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality @shirp-collector-of-fixations @gneepgnorpsneepsnorp @skerbablo @dind1n @gwyneveire @yukixies @kristalag @greantii | ask to be added <3

[81pastrys]

Hi I loved what u did with my Lando guided masturbation requests ur writing is amazing and (bc I'm a freak) I have another if ur up for it 😭 so basically Lando wants reader (his gf) to come with him to training with Jon for company and just so she's healthy and active too but she refuses joking about doing a different type of "cardio" when he gets home. So when he gets home and showers etc they're about to fuck and she's quite happy being bottom and feels like being on top is too much work so Lando does the thing she least expects him to do and that's putting her in top so she can show him her so called "cardio" routine since he knows she never does the work.

Cardi-OH

Summary— She complains about Lando always working out, but admits her favorite working is doing cardio with him.

Warnings— SMUT ; riding ; slight belly bulge kink ; teasing ; back scratching mentioned ; Lando being a little shit

A/N— KEEP. THESE. COMING. I BEG YOU THEY’RE MY FAV

Lando One Shots

Jon had asked Lando to do some extra training recently to build his shape back up for the upcoming races after winter and he obliged, but someone didn’t like the fact he was gone all the time.

“Baby, you can come with me, you did say you wanted to workout more.” Lando told her when she whined about him about to leave again. “Come on I’ll wait for you, you can do your workouts while I do mine.”

She tilted her head at him. “Lando the only working out I want to do is cardio, with you.” She joked. She laughed at herself and Lando shook his head with a smile. “Lan, I’m serious you never want to after you work out all day.”

“That’s because it’s also a work out baby.” He said. The way that he fucks, yeah it’s a workout in itself. “Well if you aren’t coming with, I’m leaving.” He stated when she didn’t make any intention to change. They said their goodbyes and she went on with her day as normal.

Lando went and did his workouts and was tired as all hell when he got home. Her words were creating thoughts in his head, not that she wanted to have sex everyday, but the fact he always put in the work when they do have sex. “I’m home.” He called out.

She greeted him not long after with a kiss and light grind, hoping she could get him in the mood. “Can we please?” She asked. He sighed and gave her a quick kiss.

“Can I shower and change?” He asked with a disgusted face. “I’m sweaty and sticky.” She smiled with an innuendo forming on her lips before he kissed her to stop it from spilling out.

He showered while she waited patiently. He dried off and plopped on the bed next to her. She turned to look at him with a cheeky smile. He turned to look at her and smiled back. “I never got an answer from earlier lan.” She teased.

“I don’t mind.” He said, she was giddy and began undressing. She wandered her hands over his body before he stopped her. “If you do the work.” He smiled cheekily now. She absolutely hated riding. Her smile faded and he laughed. “Well you said you wanted to do cardio, show me.”

She would hate to admit he turned her on, but he definitely did. She straddled his hips and kissed him while her hands roamed. His following suit, grasping her boobs the right way to make her breath hitch, or squeezing her hips the way she liked. She brought a hand to test her readiness for him and sure enough she was slick from just making out.

“Need any help?” He asked. He wasn’t going to be entirely mean, just a little. She nodded at him and he replaced her hand with his. He teased her folds, watching her reactions he loved so much. “What’s got you so wet baby?” He asked with a cocky smile.

“You making me do the hard work.” She joked. He slipped two fingers in with ease and she moaned. His other hand steadied her figure with a firm grip as he curled his fingers, bringing her close to the edge. “Your turn to make us feel good, yeah?” He slid his fingers out and brought them to his mouth. He gave a teasing slap to her ass and she winced.

“I’m going to have a talk with Jon, because there is no way in hell I’m doing this everyday.” She said before stroking him a few times. She lined him up and slowly lowered herself. Their moans in sync as she bottomed out. She gave an experimental grind and he groaned, his grip tensing on her side making her moan out.

She stayed still, adjusting to his size. His grip loosened and one hand explored her body teasingly slow as she stilled any movement. He pressed on her stomach, making her fold into him. “You feel that?” He asked. “That’s how deep I am baby. Make good use of it.” She moaned as he pressed on her again.

She started slowly grinding, about an inch or two slipping out at a time. She was saving her energy for who knows what. “Fuck lan, you feel so good.” She moaned. She lifted herself higher, only to drop back down and hit her g-spot straight on. A gasp escaped her lips and Lando chuckled, enjoying his view of her struggling on top.

“Yeah? Hitting all the right spots?” He teased. She continued the slow pace, hoping he would crumble under the teasing pace and just fuck into her like she wanted. Lando was patient, not focusing on himself at this given time. He enjoyed watching her.

She realized this too late and her legs were shaking from the position as she wanted to speed up. “Fuck I can’t.” She whined, her legs feeling like jelly as she bounced erratically to chase her high. He felt her thighs quiver on his hips and he rubbed them to soothe her pain.

“You’ve got this baby, keep going.” He praised. “Doing such a good job on top.” Now he was just fucking around and she hated how he had the upper hand. Yes, she was getting what she wanted, but not in the way she wanted it. She felt impossibly close to her orgasm, her movements faltering as her legs shook violently at the unwelcome workout.

“I’m so close, please lan.” She moaned. She rested her upper body on his, hoping that would relieve something, but it did nothing. If anything it made her more needy for him to take over. She panted as her movements halted completely, her legs still violently shaking.

“What’s the matter baby?” He taunted. “I thought you were showing me your cardio?” His hands ran up her sides soothingly as her climax wears away from close to not there at all. She moved from straddling him and groaned at her legs, pain forming from the position.

“I hope you’re happy, neither of us even finished.” She panted next to him, exhausted. He kissed her shoulder and groped her breast again. She had barely any reaction from how tired she was.

“If I kept you on top and said keep going, would you?” He teased. She shook her head in disagreement and he smiled. “That’s what Jon does to me everyday.” He told her. He figured that was enough torment and hovered his body over her, giving in to her desires.

It took about 5 rough thrusts, scratching at his back, and few circles on her clit for her to completely crumble under him.

Safe to say Jon made a comment on the devilish scratch marks on Lando’s back the next day.

Hehe it’s long too

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia

[morganmnemonic]

I can't stop thinking about the relationship between Jon and Helen as perhaps one of the most important ones in the entire show. They are narrative parallels for each other, and they both know it. They've both known it from the very start!

Helen walks into the Archives, paranoid, unsure of who to trust, and Jon sees himself in her. And he thinks "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." Then he can't save her. The next time they meet, she's a monster. They're both monsters. There was never any other way their stories could have gone, their fates entwined from the very start.

And Helen answers his original thought with one of her own: "Maybe if we can help each other, there's hope for us both." But Jon looks at her and sees everything that he fears becoming, and so he turns her away, and refuses to accept that their stories are still one and the same.

Helen went to the last person who was ever kind to her, the only person who both knew her as a human and had the context to understand what she'd become, and he hated her. He hated her because he liked Helen, and told her that she couldn't be Helen.

So she stopped trying to be Helen, and embraced being a monster. Reveled in it even. Then Jon wakes up from a six month coma, more monster than person, and tries so hard to cling to the things that mattered to him when he was human. Even with no support, even with the entire archives staff against him, he chooses humanity and compassion over and over again.

And this is a direct threat to Helen's world view. Their stories are entwined. If Jon can continue to be a person even after everything he's been through, then she could have clung to her humanity too, if only she'd tried a little harder. And that terrifies her! She wants to conceptualize herself as someone who was completely overwhelmed by forces beyond her control, who never had a choice but to become a monster. She want's to be an innocent victim. But Jon argues with his actions that they'd both had choices.

And, Jon, in turn, holds out hope that she might make better choices until the very end.

This is the conflict between them for all of season 4 and 5. Jon wants to prove that they can both be decent people, and Helen wants to prove that they were never going to be anything but monsters. This is why she's so devoted to trying to goad Jon into enjoying his newfound godhood. She knows that they are the same, and wants that to mean that he has a spark of evil inside of him, and not that she was always capable of doing good.

When Jon kills her, she loses her life, but wins the argument. Helen is nothing but a dangerous monster who needs to be killed for the good of everyone, and in the moment he decides that, Jon dooms himself to the same fate. Their stories are one and the same. "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." he thought. But he couldn't help her, refused to, even, in the one moment when it actually mattered. And thus, there was never hope for him.

[tchtokyo]

HEADCANON

Roy likes to call Jason pet names, but like old fashioned pet names (he gives me the vibe of being an old soul) but I'm not saying sweetheart or love, I'm saying like angel, babydoll, dear and darling, lovely and stuff like that and jason doesn't know what to do with it besides blush and hide somewhere.

(Clark also does it, but we all know he does bc he was raised in a farm, and Bruce loves it and answers in kind)

And roy does it in public, in private, in whatever setting he is. Besides the normal jaybird, these are common within roy vocabulary that is meant for jason.

*in a meeting with the other bats, in the bat cave*

Jason: me and roy can handle it, no need to add more people we could be seen.

Roy: you sure, angel? I mean it looks like there's gonna be alot of them.

The bats: *some looking shocked others holding back laughter*

Jason: *blushing under the helmet and thanking that he has it on* y-yes, we can.

Roy: you the boss, babydoll.

Jason: OH MY GOD CAN YOU STOP?!?!?

Dick, Tim, Steph and duke: *laughing like crazy*

Bruce: *murmuring something about queen children*

Cass: *patting jason shoulder for support*

Damian: *looking uncomfortable*

Roy: *confused* stop what? I don't get it.

Jason: t-that ya know what I'm talking about.

Roy: I really don't, darling, you have to tell me.

Jason: *stands and walks up the stairs to the manor*

Roy: Jason?! Jason?!

Dick: *turns to roy with tears in his eyes* I think you broke him, harper.

Roy: i-

Tim: I think the pet names were too much.

Roy: but I call him that all the time!!

Steph: okay ew, don't talk about your sex live please, but tim is right maybe it's bc we all witness it.

Roy: ?????????

Duke: he's never gonna live it down between all of us.

Roy: omg Jason!? I'm sorry!! Wait wait *runs up the stairs*

Cass: he's going to sleep on the couch

Dick, Tim, Duke, steph: 100%

Damian: father, can I make a quick call before we leave?

Bruce: ??? Sure, is everything alright?

Damian: *pulling up jon contact* nothing wrong.

Damian: please do not call me your endearments while we are with my family.

Jon: *who was asleep* what!?!

Damian: I don't want to be made fun of just because you love me too much to be contained.

Jon: sure!?! Whatever you say, honey

Damian: *slightly blushing because he too can't get used to it* t-thank you, habibi

Jon: love you

Damian: I love you too *hangs up and walks back with a slight spring in his step