#BUT THERE'S ROBBERS TO THE EAST

[theresnothinglikethis]

and you know that i'd swing with you for the fences sit with you in the trenches give you my wild give you a child give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other family that i chose now that i see your brother as my brother

[perfectlyinsaneavenue]

Heavy is the head that wears the clown wig.

[my-wildflwr]

and u know that i’d swing with you for the fences. sit with you in the trenches. give u my wild. give u a child. give u the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. family that i chose now that i see your brother as my brother. is it enough?

[fitsinthepalm]

there’s glitter on the floor after the party. girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby. candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor. you and me from the night before. don’t read the last page but i stay when you’re lost and you’re scared and you’re turning away. i want your midnights but i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day. you squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi. i can tell that it’s gonna be a long road. i’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town babe, or if you strike out and you’re crawling home. don’t read the last page but i stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes. i want your midnights but i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day. don’t you know that i’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches. give you my wild, give you a child. give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, family that i chose now that i see your brother as my brother. is it enough? but there’s robbers to the east, clowns to the west. i’d give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me. so would it be enough if i could never give you peace? please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere. please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere. our coming of age has come and gone. suddenly this summer it’s clear.

[onenicebugperday]

@sl33pymimikyu submitted: Hi! Just wanted to share a really neat robberfly I saw yesterday in east central Indiana! I'm not sure the exact species, but it was super cool to see :>

Hope it enjoyed its meal! It's a bee mimic robber fly in the genus Laphria :)

[artbyblastweave]

Another thing I found odd about Fallout 4's writing is that when you first encounter Nick Valentine, you meet him in the middle of a showdown with Skinny Malone, a gangster who's written as a habitual opponent of his, someone who he's been playing cops-and-robbers with for years. This is most likely an attempt to shore up the impression of Nick as the Quintessential Noir Detective- you've blundered into the middle of an episode of the Nick Valentine Show, he does stuff like this all the time. But the thing is that Fallout- and east-coast Fallout in particular- is a setting that has a hard time plausibly giving rise to a friendly-enemy cops-and-robbers dynamic, for basically the same reason that Marvel has always had a hard time establishing a persistent rogues gallery for Frank Castle.

[memories-of-ancients]

The Ancient Celtic Ritual of Killing a Sword,

During the early iron age up to the rise of the Roman Empire the ancient Celts dominated most of Europe, their tribal societies stretching from Spain in the west to Turkey in the east. One ancient Cetlic tradition was the ritual of “killing”  the sword of a deceased chieftain or warrior for burial. Often the sword would be heated, then bent into either a circle or “S” shape thus making it irreparable and useless. In hundreds of Celtic graves throughout Europe such ritually killed swords have been uncovered, one of the most well preserved being a iron sword uncovered near Oss in the Netherlands dating to 700 BC.

There are many possible reasons such a ritual was done by the ancient Celts. The sword could have been killed as a ritual sacrifice to speed the soul of the deceased into the afterlife. Indeed a sword would have made an excellent sacrifice considering the expense and labor needed to craft a quality iron sword in that age. In addition, it may have been a special honor for a particularly brave warrior, and while the warrior rests peacefully in death, likewise his sword should be permanently retired. Kind of like how today we retire the jersey of a famous athlete who passes away.  Finally, killing the sword may have a more practical and down to earth purpose, to make it useless if uncovered by thieves and grave robbers.

By around the 1st century AD most Celtic tribes had been overrun by Germanic peoples or conquered and assimilated by the Roman Empire. However the tradition of sword killing continued with many German tribes, and during the early Middle Ages was commonly practiced by the Anglo-Saxons and the Vikings.

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

"He is half of my soul, as the poets say"

Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader sees something on a job which got her realising life is too short

Warnings: angst, trauma, description of dead, english is not my native language

Word Count: 4.3k

The cold was slowly creeping up on you, and the sight before you could only mean one thing, you were dreaming, dreaming a nightmare.

The day started like every other, you all slept till noon and then George went to the Archive to collect information for your new case while Lucy, Lockwood and you prepared everything else.

The sun was already slowly setting and was turning everything around you into a dim light when you all met up with George. “Around sixty years ago, the house was owned by a young couple, Andrew and Mary Hoffman. They were brutally murdered by robbers.” George told the team as you entered said house.

The new owners had no connection to the killed couple, they weren’t even sure if it was one or two ghosts. They only reported that the living room and the second bedroom upstairs were colder than the rest of the house; two weeks ago at night, the rooms became so cold that the windows were freezing and they could see their own breath. This, plus a dreadful feeling, had brought the owners to Lockwood & Co. to get rid of their ghost problem.

You joined Lockwood & Co. half a year ago. Since then, your team had become your best friends, and you trusted them with your life. Of course, with Lockwood & Co. often times things took a turn that really nobody expected, but they had your back and you had theirs, so you knew that it didn’t matter what the night had in store, Lockwood & Co. would ace it.

With this in mind, you followed your team inside the kitchen. Like every good team, you knew your ins and outs, so you didn’t need to talk to know that it was your job to make tea while Lockwood searched for biscuits. You had like fifteen minutes before the darkness would settle upon East London, which was also enough time for a cup of tea and one or maybe two biscuits.

While you were busy preparing each cup of tea the way each member of Lockwood& Co. liked it, Lockwood found what he was looking for. And when he happily declared that the new owners had the good kind of biscuit, you couldn’t help but smile. Lockwood’s happiness always got you beaming, when he was happy, you were happy, probably because you were such good friends. At least that’s what you tell yourself when you were lying at night in your bed and couldn’t sleep because you were too busy thinking about how the laugh of your boss sounded or how his skin felt on yours when you accidentally touched at the kitchen table when you both were reaching for the same item. Maybe if you would stop for a moment and think about it, you would realise that you were head over heels in love with your boss and landlord, but for you denial was not just a river in Egypt.

“The police suspected Mary was killed first, they found her body in the living room. Andrew was found upstairs in the open door of the bedroom. They assumed, he heard the gunshot which killed Mary and wanted to see what happened”, George shared his grim research, and you pushed his cup over the counter to him. As thanks, he gave you a quick nod.

“So, we should split up”, Lockwood appeared next to you and cool like always he leaned against the kitchen counter. This was enough to make your heart skip a beat. It felt like every minute, it would just jump out of your ribcage.

“George and I, and you and Y/N, like always?”, asked Lucy sipping her tea.

Lucy was the best listener you ever met; Lockwood’s talent was great sight. You were like George; you got a bit of everything. You could see ghost, but no death-glow. You could hear the voices of visitors, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. Only your touch was better than average and saved you from the fate of a night watch kid. Sometimes when you touch something ghost infected, you could see, hear, and feel important moments of the ghost’s life. For you, these visions often felt like minutes, but it was only a few seconds.

But in Lockwood’s humble opinion, a few second were enough for you to get ghost-touched. For someone so reckless, he was terribly worried about your safety. Therefore, you got into more than one argument about this issue. If Lockwood had his way, you would sit back home, while your team was fighting ghost without you. But that was no life you wanted to live, and you made this clear. If Lockwood would ever force you to stay back at Portland Row, you would leave Lockwood and Co. This was the argument, which always won you the fight. When he couldn’t keep you safe by leaving you back home, Lockwood insisted, that on missions you always stayed by his side. He was the best swordsman of you four, so he was the best fit to protect you and himself from getting ghost-touched. You didn’t mind. It was nice to work close with Lockwood, when he wasn’t plunging himself head first into danger. But Lucy once claimed, with knowing smirk in her face, that he was doing it less, since you joined the agency.   

It was no surprise to everyone, that he agreed with Lucy, and before you knew it, you were standing in the living room. One look at your watch confirmed what you already felt, every minute the last light of the sun would disappear, and the night would begin. Unconsciously wrapping your jacket tighter around your frame, your fingers fiddled with your belt, trying to remove the thermometer.

You weren’t nervous-no- you weren’t more nervous than on any other mission. Of course, you didn’t know which kind of ghost you would encounter this night, but you were positive that you could handle it. To fail in front of Lockwood wasn’t an option.

Finally freeing the thermometer from your belt, you began to start tracking the temperature. This was your job, while Lockwood was kneeing in the middle of the room, probably examining the death-glow.

The closer you got to the fireplace, where the remains of a long-forgotten fire lay, the colder it became. When you came to a stop in front of the fireplace, your hair stood up, and you couldn’t help but tremble. Closing your eyes, you put your hand on the old stones of the fireplace, expecting them to be cold, but they were nicely warm.

“How odd”, you muttered, before you were hit by a vision.

The first you picked up was the warm, it was a stark contrast to the cold, you were feeling just seconds ago. You were still standing in the same spot in the same room, but beside the fireplace everything was different. The furniture and décor were an older style, bright sunlight shone through the window, and everything screamed home.

In the middle of the room, a couple were slow dancing to “Will You Love Me Tomorrow” from The Shirelles, they were laughing and the happiness they were emitting was luring you in. You couldn’t help but also smile, and for a moment you forget that this wasn’t real. As if you were under a spell, you watched the couple in awe and as he spun her around, you saw his face for the first time.

You inhaled sharp. This face in front of you, you would recognize everywhere. The man looked exactly like how you imagine Lockwood would look in maybe four or five years. He was dressed in the fashion of the 60s, and his eyes shined full of love. You could watch him like this forever.

Narrowing your eyes, you tried to get a better look at his dance partner. She had light brown hair and wore a pretty yellow dress. The pair did another turn, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. The woman in Lockwood’s arm were you. She was exactly looking like you. Maybe a few years older and a lot happier.

Lockwood was gazing at her like she was his world, and you would have given everything that your Lockwood would looking at you like he was looking at her. You would kill for it. As this thought plopped up in your head, the world around you shifted.

In one moment, everything around you were bright and warm in the next moment you stood in the dark lifeless living room and the cold rushed over you, like somebody emptied a bucket full of ice water over your head.

A bad taste in your mouth and a creeping feeling of dread was all the warning you got, but it was also all the warning you needed. Pulling out your rapier, you spun around to come face to face with the ghost of Mary Hoffmann. But what you saw let you freeze like a stone statue. You weren’t ghost-locked, you just couldn’t believe it. It was like looking into a mirror, just that the own reflection was dead.

Shortly the thought, that the ghost was playing with you, crossed your mind, but that was not how your visions worked. Mary looked exactly like she had in the vision; she was your Doppelgänger.

Tearing your eyes from the sight, you never wanted to see in your life, you looked to Lockwood. Normally Lockwood tried to look cool, calm, collected, but right now his eyes darted between you and the ghost, not believing what he saw.

Nobody of you were moving, the ghost looked at you and when your eyes locked you couldn’t even lift a finger. You could feel her sadness and her grieve. But under all there was anger, an anger you could understand all too well. Maybe you didn’t know how it felt to lose your own life, but you already felt the grieve and anger after you lost a loved one.

“Darling, please step back slowly”, Lockwood tried to sound calm, but you could see right through it. But his voice had always the same effect on you, it brought you back.

Removing your gaze from the ghost in front of you, your eyes met Lockwood’s. That was enough to stop the growing panic. He was here with you, nothing too bad would happen.

Clutching your rapier like your life depended on it, you followed Lockwood’s order. Slowly you took a step back, then another till your back hit the wooden shelf of the fireplace. All the time you watched the ghost cautious, waiting for it to attack you. But Mary only followed curious your movement until you touched the wood.

It was like you flipped a switch. In one moment, she was peaceful, in the next she wasn’t any more. With a high wail she lunged for you, and before you could react Lockwood was there, his rapier slicing through her. Ectoplasm splattered around, and a few drops hit your boots. And the ghost? She vanished but both of you were agents and knew that it was only a matter of time, that she would reappear. Time you could use to search for the source.

“Are you OK?”, Lockwood sounded concerned.

Like the liar you were, you sent him a small smile, “Sure.”

Of course, you weren’t OK, not after seeing this. But you were too professional, to let it affect your work. Therefore, you took a deep breath and tried to slow your thoughts. First came the work and when you survived the night, you could handle your feelings.

You weren’t new to this field, your experience told you, that it wasn’t a coincidence that Mary acted up as you touched the wood. Her source had to be close. A short look at Lockwood confirmed your suspicion.

“We should lay out the chains”, Lockwood suggested, and you nodded. Both of you knew, that there was no guarantee what would happen, if you touched the source and to find it you had to touch it. Also, there was the possibility, that the ghost was out to get you. Maybe it also realized that you both were a lookalike and now wanted to kill you for it.

“I grab them and Darling, remember no matter what happens, I have your back.”

While Lockwood laid out the chains, he insisted on doing it, you stood with raised rapier next to him, ready to fight off the ghost, if it would appear. But you both were lucky; Mary didn’t show up.

Now you stood inside the iron chains, slowly reaching out to touch the wood a second time. You could feel it, you were so close. Closing your eyes for better concentrating, you carefully let your hands wander over the shelf. When you touched to deep cuts in the wood, which awfully resembled the letters A and M, you knew, that you found it. But before you could inform Lockwood, another vision came crashing over you like a wave and pulled you under.

You were in the same room as in the last vision. But now it was night, and you were looking down the barrel of a gun. Her angst, your angst, was all consuming. Your whole body was shacking.

“Please”, her and at the same time also your voice, was not more than a whisper.

That was all you needed to realize, that in this vision you weren’t just watching her, you were her. And now you would learn how it felt like to die. A small tear ran down your cheek, and you didn’t know if it was Mary or you, who was crying.

Before you could beg again, the robber pulled the trigger. The pain you felt as the bullet priced your flesh was worse than anything you had experienced before. Falling to the floor, you wanted to scream, but the only sound which left your mouth was a quit whimper.

You could feel the warm blood rushing out of your body and starting to form a puddle beneath you. You were too young to die. You had so much you wanted to do, you had so many people you had so say goodbye to. You just couldn’t leave George, Lucy and him- oh you would miss him so much.

With the last of your strength, you tried pressing down on your wound. Burning hot pain shot through your body. But still your warm blood was running through your finger, and you were running out of time. Any breath could be your last one. Everything was cold and you were so tired. You would love nothing more, than to just close your eyes, so you did. Your lungs took their last breath, and then you died.

Just to suddenly standing next to Marys/ your dead body. There was only one thing worse than seeing your own ghost, and that was seeing your own lifeless body. By the sight in front of you, your blood was running cold, and you felt like throwing up.

“Darling, everything alright? What was this noise?”, you heard Lockwood’s voice from above. The robber exchanged looks before they followed his voice upstairs.

Knowing what was to come, your whole body went stiff.

No-no-no-no, that could not happen. You couldn’t let him die. Panicking, you searched for something, that could be used as a weapon, but when you tried to reach for the poker, your hand just went through. In this vision, you were the ghost, you couldn’t change anything.

You jumped when two shots rang out, another tear was running down your cheek. Damn, you knew that you didn’t want to see it, but you couldn’t help it.

Rushing up the stairs, there he was lying. His lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling; all sparks long gone from them. Your legs gave up under you and with a loud wail you felt to the floor. You were wrong earlier; the worst sight of your life was Lockwood’s dead body here in front of you. And you would never fully recover from it.

You were still crying ugly when you came back. When you said yes to this job, you really didn’t expect to get so traumatised. Your heart was beating so fast like you just ran a marathon. Trembling all over, you allowed yourself a quick look over your shoulder.

There he stood, with his back to you, he was facing the room. His rapier was resting in his hands, while he tried to look less tense than he was feeling. Relief flooded through you at the sight of him. It hasn’t been real, he was alive. You suppressed a loud sob and forced yourself to appear calm on the outside, even if there was a storm raging inside.

“I found the source, do you have a crowbar?”, hearing the sound of your voice, Lockwood turned around, which was a bad mistake.

Of course your luck just ran out and Mary decided, that this was the best moment to reappear again. Would it be a typical mission for Lockwood and Co. if something like this wouldn’t happen? You guessed not.

Seeing her appear right behind Lockwood, her arm outstretched, gave you a heart attack.       

They say when something terrible happens, you witness it in slow motion. But that wasn’t true for you. It always happened so fast.

“Watch out”, you yelled, while your hands worked hastily to pull out a salt bombe out of your jacket pocket. While Lockwood spun around and only escaped the ghost-touched by jumping back, you threw the bomb. It hit Mary right in the chest, and with a high-pitched wail she backed off.

“I will fend her off”, without warning, Lockwood threw with his free hand his crowbar to you. Luckily for you, you caught it.

To be completely honest, this was a shitty job. You hated it with all your bones. If it were up to you, this night couldn’t end fast enough.

So you took Lockwood’s crowbar and bought it down onto the shelf with all your anger bundled and a roar of frustration. Two hits were enough to cause the part of the wood with the initials to splinter.

Behind you, you heard Lockwood taunting the ghost to distract her from you. Because one thing for sure, Mary hated what you were doing to her source.

There was no reason for you to drag this out any longer. Therefore, you took your silver net and threw it over the little piece of wood, you broke off. In an instance, the chaos stopped.  

“Are you alri-”, Lockwood never got to finish his sentence, he got too distracted from the loud pounding footsteps, which were running down the stairs.

The next moment, Lucy appeared in the doorway.

“Thank god, you are alive”, with a relived sigh, she threw her arms around Lockwood. Confused, his eyebrows raised.

Would it be any other day, you might have become jealous at the sight in front of you- you could never hug Lockwood light this- but this job had been hell. You only felt tired, so tired.

“We were fighting against a ghost, which looked exactly like you”, Lucy added when she realised how confused Lockwood looked. You already put two and two together, thanks to your visions.

“And suddenly he just vanished, did you found both sources by any chance?”, George chimed in as he entered the room.

“Quite possible”, picking up the silver net, you were careful not expose the source.

“Here”, without further ado, you handed the net into George’s unexpected hand. You wanted nothing more to do with it.

Not waiting for his response, you pushed past him and rushed out of the house. You knew that it wasn’t your smartest move to just run out of a house in the middle of the night. But you still had your rapier and you needed fresh air.

Trembling all over, you took a deep breath. What the hell had been this shit show? And why had they looked exactly like Lockwood and you? You wanted to cry, but you hadn’t any tears left. Wiping your cheeks to remove the salty remains, you crumbled a little. You could still feel the warm blood on your hands, you could still see Lockwood lying dead in front of you.

But before you could collapse, you heard steps behind you. Turning your head, you saw Lockwood hurrying to you. Without saying anything, he pulled you in his warm embrace, and you melted under his touch. Laying your head against his chest, your hands griped his coat, like you were afraid he would leave you. You could hear his hearth racing, and you were sure, that your heart was beating even faster.

Like this, you stayed for what felt like forever. It seemed like both of you wanted to make sure, that what happened inside the house wasn’t more than a bad dream. As if you stayed long enough like this, you could undo what you had seen insight.

After a moment Lockwood broke the silence, “For a second I thought you were her and that you-”, right in the middle he stopped, and you looked up into his pained face.

This was the moment, that you realised, how close you were. You would just have to stand on your tiptoes and your lips would be brushing his. But you didn’t dare. What if he didn’t like you as much as you like him? Then you try to kiss him, ruining everything.

“I never felt such relief in my life when I saw you standing there”, pausing, Lockwood also seemed to realise in which position you both were. Blushing, he took a step back, and you wanted to scream.

“Darling, will you be OK after tonight?” Certainly not. Maybe you put a stop to the haunting, but for sure her memories will haunt you.           

To 85.66% you were sure, that after this night Lockwood told the rest of the team, that you both had fought against your lookalikes. You could see it in the pitiful glances they gave you.

The first days after the job, you mainly spend in your room. At the latest, when you didn’t protest when Lockwood suggested that you stay home for the next job, everyone knew that something was wrong with you.

Every night in your dreams, you and Lockwood died again and again. Every night you woke up heavily panting, and your bed was soaked with sweat. Rational, you knew that neither you nor Lockwood had died, but it had felt so real.

Even when the light was shining through your window, you felt the adrenalin pumping through your veins, ready to fight or flight. The worst part was, that you knew your fear wasn’t so wrong. As an agent, every job could be your last. A little slip up and you could be dead.

To distract yourself, you tried to think of reasons why Mary and Andrew Hoffman looked exactly like you and Lockwood.

One time you read, that every person had seven doppelgängers, but the probability that your lookalike married Lockwood’s was so low. There must be another explanation, you just knew it.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the knock on your door. Only when Lockwood entered your room, you got brought back.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”, you asked the first thing, that came into your mind, before he could say anything.

Taken by surprise, he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of your room.

“I-I- I mean”, he stuttered, and slowly a blush began creeping up his face. From the eloquent Lockwood you often watched was no sign to see.

“Are you thinking about them?”, he asked instead of answering your question. He didn’t even have to say their names for you to know who he was talking about.

“Yes, they got me thinking. How odd it is that both were our lookalikes?”

“And they married each other.” Lockwood’s brown eyes met yours and your heart stopped.

“Yes, and they married each other”, you repeated breathless, while Lockwood came closer.

“May I?”, before you knew it, he was sitting next to you on the bed. Only now did you realize he had swapped his fine suit for a simple grey jumper. If it was even possible, your heart started to beat even faster. Discreetly, you tried to wipe off your sweaty hands on your leggings.

Hoping to gain control over your own body again, you took a deep breath. “You didn’t answer my first question, do you believe in reincarnation?”

Nervously, you bit on your lips, and Lockwood’s eyes followed the movement before his eyes lingered.

While fidgeting with his hands, Lockwood cleared his throat. Never before you saw him so nervous.

“I would like to believe that my soul will always find yours, no matter when and where we are.”

He was looking anywhere but at you. Which was fine, totally fine, because you looked like an idiot.

Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Or was it just wishful thinking?

The last job has showed you, that the life could be awfully short, you could die any time. Sometime love was worth taking a risk on and if you knew one thing it was, that you loved the reckless idiot in front of you.

Gripping his jumper, you brought his lips down to yours. First, he wasn’t kissing back, and you were scared, that you did a big mistake. But then he returned the kiss, and you felt like flying.

Far too quickly you separated and breathless you gazed into each other eyes.

“I would also like to believe that my soul will always find yours.”    

[st4rgzer]

PEACE matt sturniolo

summary: you’re finally revealed to the public as Matt’s girlfriend!

genre: fluff

cw!: -

a/n: first post of the year!🫶🏻 (y/u/n is “your user name”)

“would it be enough? if I could never give you peace?”

That sentence rung in my head the day the news came out that I was, in fact, Matt Sturniolo’s girlfriend.

It wasn’t exactly planned, but we were ready, we’d already taken sufficient precautions but the adrenaline from being a secret to the public was wearing off, we both wanted to go public, regardless of the backlash we were expecting to get.

@matthew.sturniolo

♡ 💬 ➤

liked by y/u/n and 409.938 more people

matthew.sturniolo suddenly the summer, it’s clear.

see 11349 comments

christophersturniolo 🤫🤫

↳ mattsbbg WHO IS IT WE NEED TO KNOW

y/u/n who could it be🤔 ♥ liked by author

↳ mattlover993 GUYS HE LIKED THE COMMENT!!!

livelaughlovematt i feel like this is just for show…

↳ chrisslefttoe why would he like y/n’s comment then??

——————————————————————

“matt they are going cray cray” I laughed, scrolling through the comments, on the inside, scared that i’d see one bad one and chicken out

“i know, but so far so good, i think we’re in the clear” His arm snaked around my waist as he placed butterfly kisses along my jawline.

“stop, that tickles!” I complained between giggles, trying to push him off me.

He gave up eventually and placed his head on my shoulder as I continued scrolling through the replies, then, I saw one specific comment “i feel like this is just for show” and nudged the phone towards him for him to read.

He shrugged.

“i don’t care if all these people think love’s for show, I would die for you in secret”

His voice was soft, as he meant for it to be. Mindlessly twirling my hair and saying that so casually.

“that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me” I gasped dramatically, grinning.

“that’s just a lie” he said offended, rolling his eyes playfully.

After a while of just laying there, he warned me of the convictions that came with publicly being with him.

“you know it’s not going to be easy, i’ll give you my best, i promise, but rain is always going to come if you’re standing with me” he sighed, staring with pleading eyes, as if he was scared id back down and not be okay with everything.

“that’s stupid Matt, of course there’s going to be challenges, but you’re more than enough for me, even if you’d never give me peace” I cupped his cheek, placing an unassailable kiss on his forehead, and lingered for a moment.

There’s robbers to the east and clowns to the west. But I believe that peace is overrated, i’d rather drown in an ocean but have him as fire to keep me warm, than to have nothing at all.

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough?

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @lovelysturniolo @gabbylovesreading @iha8you @ssturniolo @strawberrymilk4k @flynnriderishot @sturniololoverr @sturniolol

[may0tuna]

Part 3 High Society | Prowler!Miles Morales x Reader

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Rich UES reader meets Prowler!Miles at a high society NYC event where Miles was working as a waiter. Reader took an interest in Miles but couldn't hide the fact that they were raised differently, having anything handed to them on a silver platter. Miles, on the other hand, was very hot and cold with the reader, considering he's secretly the vigilante Prowler, and most likely hates those that are in power. With the reader's family being one of the most powerful (and corrupt) families in NYC, Miles struggles with his interactions with the reader. Obv, he has a soft spot for the reader.

After you and Miles had finished your food, it seems that both of you had decided to walk back to campus. The walk back was quiet. Neither of you talked. Miles did not even look at you. You, on the other hand, were eyeing him from your periphery, trying to decipher what's going on in Miles' head. To say the least, Miles had piqued your interest, and all you wanted to do was to get to know him more. Aside from when he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you away from rushing cars on the side of the road, the only physical contact you two had made was when you were at the restaurant.

By the time you had reached campus, it was already dark. It seems that Miles had no plans of talking to you (or even fulfilling his plans of "showing you what he was capable") when you felt that he was already walking away towards the bus stops. Hot and cold much? You were frustrated by the inconsistencies in his actions. Never have you met someone who did not follow the usual etiquette of high society, but you couldn't help but entertain the possibility of you and Miles having any physical relationship.

Miles must've felt when you stopped walking all of a sudden. You were in deep thought about how your life is so different from Miles. Yours, handed on a silver platter with no say in things that matter the most in your life. Him, having to work hard to provide yet having all the freedom in the world. You started to question everything, and all you felt was that maybe Miles had the answers.

You were so deep in thought, you did not realize Miles had walked up to you. He was standing in front of you. New York City was particularly chilly that night, and you can see the cold air both of you were breathing out.

"What do you want to do?" Miles had asked. You weren't sure what to say.

"I don't know." You looked down at your shoes when you felt Miles' hand cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him, to meet his lips with yours.

You did not expect a kiss with Miles to be soft, gentle, and even to a certain point, calculated. His lips were careful not to invade anything. But you were sure you wanted him so you opened your mouth invitingly, letting your tongues wrestle. It was an alternate between kissing, licking, and sucking. You were sure that at one point, you had moaned into his mouth. You reached to tug on his coat and pull him even closer. Miles took this as a chance to start kissing you harder, and much more needier. By the end of the kiss, you were gasping for air.

"You can do whatever you want," Miles finally said, as if that was the only green light you were waiting to start living your life according to your rules. You smiled back and thanked him.

~

That night, you lie awake in your bed. After the kiss, Miles had offered to walk you back to your townhouse in the Upper East Side but since you were preparing for an upcoming exam, you were actually staying near campus on the West Side. It was one of your family's properties, and it was a decent-sized one-bedroom apartment.

You decided to watch TV to get yourself sleepy, and you landed on the news channel. There was a recent robbery in Brooklyn and the robbers took a bunch of medicine. Apparently, the main suspect is actually the vigilante Prowler. With the current situation in NYC, you don't blame people like the Prowler. In fact, you hoped that this raise awareness to how shitty the government is.

You turned off the TV with a resigned sigh. Big words coming from someone who hasn't worked a day in their life. You went to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, when you heard a loud thump in your room. When you've gotten to your room, the window was open. You didn't think much of it, telling yourself that maybe you just forgot to closed it earlier.

You decided to lie back down, and this time, really try to sleep. Your mind started to wander to the events earlier that day. The kiss. Miles. What happened at the restaurant. His hands in between your thighs. You remembered how wet and needy you were. You wanted him right then and there.

All this reminiscing made you feel hot. Your hands started to roam all over your body. You were wearing a silk night dress which provided you with easy access. Your one hand had found your nipples and you gently pinched one of them through the fabric, allowing a soft moan to escape your lips. Your other hand found itself wandering between your thighs. You started to massage your inner thighs, and you can feel your own wetness. You couldn't help it but you started calling out Miles' name. You allowed yourself to imagine him, his hands all over your body. His mouth on the nape of your neck, and his strong arms wrapping around your body.

You had not realized that there was another presence in your room because you were so caught up in your own libido, that the only time you snapped out of your trance was when you heard your name - in Miles' voice.

"Y/N" His voice was so soft you almost couldn't hear it.

"Miles?" Your mind froze but your hands stayed where they were. One on your chest, the other between your thighs. You sat up from your bed, and strained to see the figure at the corner of your room. The only light was from the moon outside coming in through your open window.

When Miles had finally stepped out of the shadows, that's when you started to panic. You never thought that there was actually someone in your apartment right now. The building is highly secured so you wonder how he was able to get in. Through the windows? Heck, you lived on the 22nd floor! You had sat up and attempted to cover yourself with the blanket.

"Miles? What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"

"Hmm? The window," he said non-chalantly. You started to get nervous.

"Miles," you said, nervousness evident in your voice, "I'm on the 22nd floor." You said with more conviction this time, as if mentioning the floor you were in will make Miles realize how stupid his statement was.

Miles had just looked at you, as he had slowly walked up to you. Only now have you realized that he had bruises and that he was sweating. He seem fatigued.

"What happened?" You were no longer nervous but concerned.

"I ran into some problems back in Brooklyn," he said plainly. "I needed a place to stay." He walked over and sat at the edge of your bed. You sat beside him and surveyed his body. No major bruises, only a few cuts here there. It did not seem that he got these from a fight but more like from escaping somewhere.

"Stay here. I have first aid kit somewhere-" you mentioned as you stood up, but Miles held your arm and asked you to stay.

"No, I'm fine. Just stay here," he paused. "Please."

You sat down next to him, and your next instinct was to hug him. He hugged you back, and both of you were like this for quite some time. You were both sitting up and after awhile, he slowly leaned back, lying down on your bed. His eyes were closed and he was trying to catch his breath. You allowed him to regain his strength, and after a few more moments, he spoke.

"So Y/N," he said as you looked at him. "What were you doing before I got here?" He asked, now with a faint smirk on his face. You were confused for a second but realized what he was pertaining to. At this point, you no longer questioned how the hell he got into your apartment. No, the burning question is that was he here when your were masturbating and calling out his name? From the looks of it, he was! Terror was evident in your face, and pure embarassment.

"Don't be embarassed. I knew you couldn't resist, Mami," he said as he reached out to stroke your lap.

"What I mind," he said as he shifted all his weight on you so that your back is lying down with him hovering on top of you, "is that you're enjoying yourself," his hands started to roam your inner thighs, moving upward to your already wet pussy, "without me being present to witness this." As soon as Miles had said "this", he had twisted his finger to move your panties to the side and feel all of your wetness. You even gasped at the contact with his warm hands.

"Miles," you breathed and moaned his name into his ear.

"Yes?" he said, kissing your neck and sucking on it lightly.

"Please, I want you." You were surprised you were able to form a coherent response.

"You want this?" Miles asked as he inserted a finger in you, and another one, and had started pumping it in and out while you struggle to catch your breath.

"Uh-huh," was your only response.

"You're so wet for me, Mami."

"Miles, you're...so...good to me." Miles responded with a smirk on his face. At this point, you've allowed your hands to roam his body and slowly removed any remaining piece of clothing between the two of you. Every now and then, you'll press too hard on one of Miles' bruises which you still don't know where he got it from, and you'll apologize, only to be silenced by Miles kissing you hard on the mouth.

"Miles?"

"Yes, Y/N?"

"Can I.."

"What is it?"

"Can I ride you?" You muttered, slightly embarassed by your question. But ever since you had met Miles, you had always wanted to feel him inside you while you were on top.

"Of course, mi princesa," and with one smooth motion, you were straddling Miles. Your hands on his chest for support, and his hands on your waist for further guidance. You leaned in for a kiss which Miles greatly reciprocated with an additional light slap on your ass that made you gasped mid-kiss.

Miles positioned the tip of his cock near your entrance, as you slowly lowered yourself on him. Every inch filled you up, it was driving you crazy. You had dug your nails in his chest while his steady hands remained on your waist, guiding you further to take more of him.

After a few moments, you had allowed yourself to take him fully and you were swaying your hips side to side, forward to backward. At this point, you were using Miles' cock to pleasure yourself, and Miles was definitely not complaining. You hear him moan your name again and again, especially when you would switch up your motions.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gonna make me cum," Miles said as he pulled you closer to him so he can suck on your nipples.

"Shit, Miles, yeah, just like that, please."

"Hmm baby, you taste so good."

With you riding him, Miles sucking your nipples, his occassional ass slapping, and the fact that he was very verbal about how you're gonna make him cum, it was only a matter of time, when you felt your own release coming. Your legs were shaking, and Miles knew that you were close.

At this point, Miles was matching your movements, and he was thrusting upward, meeting yours. Your mind was going blank, and Miles had pulled you closer to whisper how much of a slut you are and how needy you are, and how he was planning to destroy your pussy every chance he gets.

"That's right, Y/N, this pussy's mine."

"Yes!"

"Come on, tell Daddy what you want."

"Please daddy, I want you to cum in me."

"Oh baby."

"Say my name, Y/N, say it!"

"Miles, Miles, I'm gonna cum!"

Both you and Miles had cummed at the same time. It took a while after both of your release for one or the other to move from the original position. Miles was the first to lay you down beside him. You were still exhausted, and you had curled up into a ball beside him while he stroked your hair and back.

After that, guessed you must've fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew was that it was morning. Miles was sound asleep beside you, with his back to you, rising and falling slowly. You wrapped your arms around his waist, and you allowed yourself to spoon him for a couple of minutes, when you felt him move to face you.

"Good morning," you said.

"Good morning," he replied. "What do you want for breakfast?"

[grntre23]

the main four from babel!! there’s explanations for the silver bars on each one!

potential book spoilers below!!

————————————————————-

Ramy is first. Ramy’s name is on the left, and it means “one who indicates by signs” or “good communicator”. The Arabic word on bar on the right is romanized as “rasim”. It means art, drawing, architect, or planner. The bar was created to bridge the gap and make the process of writing notes from books and reference materials faster, smoother, and neater. I feel like Ramy would need it pretty often.

Robin’s name is a diminutive of Robert, from the old English “hrod” for fame, glory and “berht” for bright, shining, white. In middle English, it also meant lowly, robber, or good-for-nothing. The Chinese character 文明 (wèn) stands for civilization. It has the character 明 (míng), for bright. This character uses the symbols for the sun and moon. Using both pictography and a daisy-chain, this silver bar would offer a reading light to the user, granting temporary light. I thought it was interesting to combine Robin’s name meanings of “shining glory” and “low-life” with the meanings of “civilization” and “bright” to show how Robin’s identity is defined for so long by the oppressors and colonizers who enforce their ideas of the East and its people on Robin. I feel that Robin’s late nights frantically studying would make this light very necessary.

Letty’s name “Letitia” is derived from Latin, and means “joy” or “gaiety”. The Spanish word “gozar” is similar in meaning. However, it does not mean to just enjoy or thrill in, but rather to “enjoy soothingly”. Bridging the gap between the words, the effect of the bar would dull out noise around the user. I wanted it to represent how she tends to dull and ignore the experiences of her friends and their challenges, as she herself remains blind to her privilege and security.

Victoire’s name comes from the latin “victor” and the French “victoire”, both of which mean “winner” or “conqueror”. The word “poukant” in French creole means “lonely” or “alone”. By combining it with the latin for the lone “winner”, the bridge between the words enables the user to send a signal to desired people. It is used probably by Victoire to alert her friends that she wants to see them or find them. I also wanted Victoire to use this spell since she is the last one, essentially, standing. Her story and challenges were the most heartbreaking to me, and this spell is also a little crushing too.

[ao3sbatfamily]

thank you for doing god’s work

may i please ask for help finding an outside POV fic where likeee a random civilian woman shot the joker because he was just right there and the batfam are helping her get protected or something

if you can’t, i’d appreciate some other outsider POV batfam fics from you!!! thanks!!!

'but there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west' by ab_inito

“You have to understand Ms. Smith, we legally can not let you go as there is irrefutable evidence of your murder,” Commissioner Gordon said.

“Then can you at least let me take my AP Calc AB exam here? I’ve been working towards it all year and AP exams are a bitch and a half to reschedule,” She replied. Commissioner Gordon sighed.

“Ms. Smith, you murdered a man–”

“The Joker,” she interrupted. 

“The Joker is still a man. One whom you murdered. I’ll see what I can do but you will have to face legal repercussions for this.” Emery stared down Commissioner Gordon. She was going to take her AP exams and she was going to get a five on all of them. The law couldn’t stop her. 

[iwanthermidnightz]

…but would it be enough? cause there’s robbers to the east, clowns to the west, give you my sunshine, give you my best but the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me. please don’t ever become a stranger who’s laugh I could recognize anywhere. our coming-of-age has come and gone, suddenly, this summer, it's clear

[racefortheironthrone]

Never experienced much gimmickry bank robberies when I've lived in Rio de Janeiro and Johannesburg it was more hearing about muggings, break-ins or carjackings, but those cities felt a bit Gotham City-esque in answering the question of "with so much crime why would anybody ever chose to live in Gotham City" more than New York.

Certainly, places with extreme levels of inequality tend to see a lot of "muggings, break-ins or car-jacking" (a fair bit of kidnapping for ransom too).

And we have to understand that when superhero comics were invented in the U.S, the U.S was just starting to come out of a major crime wave that had begun during Prohibition that saw the birth of organized crime and the gangster alike. The largely Jewish creators many of whom from the Lower East Side were very familiar with New York City underworld figures like Arnold Rothstein, Bugsy Siegel, Lucky Luciano, Meyer Lansky, and knew these guys basically owned City Hall and the NYPD - this, not fascism, is at the heart of the vigilante tradition in American comic books.

Likewise, creators and readers throughout the United States would have been very familiar with the bank robbers and kidnappers like the Barker Gang or Bonnie and Clyde or Pretty Boy Floyd or John Dillinger, because these people were national celebrities thanks to the newsreels and the radio. A huge amount of the political capital that J. Edgar Hoover would rely on to corrupt the U.S government for the next forty years was won in the "G-Men's" war against these "Public Enemies." (Notably, Hoover did virtually nothing to solve the other problem of organized crime and refused to accept the existence of the mafia well into the 50s.)

So as with so much else, the image of urban crime in superhero comics is the memory of working-class Jewish writers and artists of the hoodlums who terrorized their neighborhoods while the government did nothing to protect people.

[speaknowworldtour]

“once in twenty lifetimes” // “this happens once every few lifetimes”

“and if i’m gonna be drunk, might as well be drunk in love” // “these chemicals hit me like white wine”

“but i come back stronger than a 90s trend” // what if i told you i’m back?… but i’m coming back so strong”

“is it you? or have they come to take me away?” // “i was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me” // “the hospital was a drag”

“i am an architect i’m drawing up the plans” // “i laid the groundwork” // “i circled you on a map” // “and your location you forgot to turn it off and so i watched as you walk”

“but there’s robbers to the east, clowns to the West” // “ditch the clowns, get the crown”

“checkmate, i couldn’t lose” // “baby i’m the one to beat”

“and i knew you’d come back to me” // “cause the sign on your heart says it’s still reserved for me”

“isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me” // “honestly who are we to fight the alchemy?”

“stitching ‘we were just kids babe’, i said ‘i don’t mind’” // “that child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule”

“lord save me, my drug is my baby i’ll be using for the rest of my life” // “he joked that it’s heroin but this time with an ‘e’”

“up on the roof with a schoolgirl crush, drinking beer out of plastic cups, say you fancy me not fancy stuff baby all at once this is enough” // “beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanting cause they said ‘there was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league’ where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”