#I think the answer is “yes obviously” but that’s just me

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate

Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Spencer Reid bumps into one of his students while she's highly intoxicated, he takes it upon himself to get her home safely. Warnings - Student/teacher relationship, drinking, very slight implication of sexual assault Words - 1.9K

A/n - Thinking about making this into a little mini-series so let me know if you like this!

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It was Friday night and every student was somewhere in town. Groups of them crowding the bar, ordering shots or vodka sodas. Whatever was cheapest and whatever could get them drunk enough.

It just so happened that this certain Friday night, Y/n had gulped on too many drinks. It was barely 1am before she was stumbling to the dance floor, her friend's hand interlocked. Her intoxicated dance was enough to draw some attention. Some men eyeing her in the corner, some more girls wanting to join in and a man she knew at the bar: Professor Spencer Reid. One of her lecturers. Her favourite lecturer in fact.

Y/n didn't really register it in her drunken state until she wandered up to the bar and spotted him closer up. He was sipping on a something with coke, stood beside a man she didn't recognise: broad-shouldered and tough. "Professor?" She called with a sly smile rising to her lips.

Spencer turned: a pleasant surprise. "Y/n, hi, it's good to see you." He returned the smile, observing the girl's obvious drunken state.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here...no offence." She giggled drunkenly. Her professor was, obviously, much older. He seemed the type to enjoy a book on a Friday night - not a bar.

Spencer pointed to the man next to him, "It's erm- Morgan dragged me here." Said man turned to face Y/n, a cheeky glint already settled in his eye.

"Are you one of the doctor's students, hm?" He asked.

"I am," She answered, "Do you work at BAU too?"

Morgan shook his head, "Used to."

"Well, it was nice bumping into you both," She sent them a final smile, "See you Monday morning, sir." She directed such at Spencer before turning to face the bartender who was awaiting to take her order.

And once she grasped it, returning to her friends with a stumble in her steps, Morgan glanced back at Reid. The boy knew Morgan long enough to know what was coming: what that glint in his eyes meant. "She's interesting," He commented, observing Spencer. "Maybe I need to switch career paths."

Spencer swallowed hard on his drink, "She's my student, Morgan." The other man only shrugged at such response; nothing in the sensual sense ever seemed off-putting to Morgan. But Spencer, well he had many lines he had yet to cross. And Y/n was one of them.

His eyes gazed over to the girl who was giggling at something one of her friends had said. She was beautiful - she would give Morgan that. But, as much as that was the case, a relationship further than academic would be... inappropriate. No matter what Spencer might have thought about the girl. Even now, as he glanced at her from afar, she seemed nothing but carefree, captivating, alluring. And he couldn't let his mind go there.

An hour or so had passed when Spencer finally convinced Morgan that they should go home. He wandered outside, making sure Morgan got into his taxi all right before the front door to the bar swung open. Y/n stepped out, attempting to grasp a single cigarette from the packet. She had yet to notice her professor watching her. Once she had one between her fingertips, another challenge arrived: lightening it.

"Need some help there?" Spencer wandered up to her, shoving his hand into his trouser pockets.

If she were sober, she probably would have stopped what she was doing. Smoking in front of one of her preferred professors wasn't exactly the view she wanted to give. "Erm- I-" She sighed, giving in and handing the lighter over to Spencer, "Yes."

He took it, creating a block from the wind with one hand and letting the fire ignite before the girl was able to inhale the smoke into her lungs. "Thanks," She muttered before he took a step away.

"You shouldn't smoke you know," He could go on a ramble - but he wouldn't.

She shrugged, "I know, I just- I can't find my friends, I don't know where they've gone." She explained. "I thought they might be out here."

Spencer looked around the pavement they were standing on: deserted. "But?"

"But, they're not." She huffed as the smoke exhaled from her lips. She stumbled as she took a step, "I think- I think they went to some club." Her head banged - it was all beginning to become blurred.

And at her words, Spencer's concern intensified. "And they left you here?" He questioned.

Her eyes fell to the floor as she attempted to think, "I didn't want to go." She told him. "I shouldn't be- I can't-"

Before she could get out her drunken slurs, a hand came to her shoulder, "Do you have a way home?"

Y/n found herself effortlessly staring into the gaze of her behavioural analyst professor. "I erm- I walk." She answered him as if he had willed the very words from her lips.

Spencer decided then and there; he wasn't having this. If not for the very feeling inside him that compelled him to take care of her, it was the fact she was a young girl walking alone at night. Quite frankly, he taught some of the men at this college - he didn't trust them. "Come on," He spoke as he wandered over to his car.

Yet, Y/n stayed where she was, "What?" She couldn't even think this was a possibility.

"I'll drive you home," He said as he stopped, just by the driver's door. "Don't worry, I've only had two drinks. I just want to make sure you get home safe."

She shook her head. As tempting as a drive home with her attractive professor was, she couldn't possibly. "I'm fine, honestly-" She took a step, tripping on her own two feet.

Luckily, Spencer caught her before her face hit the stone concrete. Her fingers gripped his wrists as he took a hold of her. They didn't let go - not straight away. A moment passed as Y/n raised her head as to meet her professor's gaze. "What were you saying again?" He made the point of making.

She let go and straightened her back, "Are you sure don't mind?"

His smile became one of empathy, "I'd rather do this than wonder what could happen to you alone."

And so, without another thought, she slipped into the passenger seat of Spencer's car. A part of her wanted to be home, wanted to be in her bed. The other, however, liked the idea of being here...with him. "It's erm, Rose court, the student accom." She informed. "It's probably only a five-minute drive."

Spencer thought about making the point that even if it was an hour's drive, he would have made it at that very moment. He wanted her safe. Maybe because she was a brilliant student, maybe because he was concerned, or maybe because something else was urging his actions. Something of which the man had had a conscious decision to push to the side.

Though, even in a five-minute drive, Y/n had been lulled into sleep. The safety of someone she knew, the comfort of the leather car seat and the way the drinks had made her drowsy. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she didn't put up a fight against it. 

When the car engine stopped, Spencer looked over at her. For a few seconds, he thought about not waking her. She was so peaceful, tranquil, with no worries, nothing but her own dreams. "Y/n," He whispered. Nothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Y/n, hey, we're here."

Slowly, her eyelids started to flutter open and she found her view of her professor. It was all real. It wasn't just an intoxicated dream. "Sorry," She murmured in response.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He spoke before exiting the car and going round as to open the passenger door for the girl. "Are you okay to walk?"

She slipped her legs out, "I'm fine yeah."

Famous last words.

The moment her heels hit the concrete pavement, she wobbled right into Spencer's hold. "Okay, I'll walk you up to your room." He decided then and there, without even consulting the girl on such.

"I can walk up to my room, professor." She argued.

But all she was met with was a raised brow of uncertainty, "You can't get out of the car without falling. How do you think stairs are going to go?" That was something she chose not to argue with.

She started wandering up to the first door, searching through her bag for the keys. She swayed until she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her body steadied. Her eyes found Spencer again. The subtle touch was making even her drunken, confident self nervous. "Is this okay?" He checked when he observed her unsure body language.

The girl swallowed, "Hmh." And then she looked away, finally grasping her keys.

Spencer watched as she stumbled over to the door, not daring to let his touch leave the girl. She slipped the key into the door and they were over the first hurdle. And then, stairs. "Let's go slow, okay?" Spencer soothed her through.

She gave nothing but an incoherent nod as she followed Spencer's steps. "Which one is it?" He questioned.

Y/n was pointing to a door across from the stairs, "B..B35." She informed as Spencer guided her to the door and she started looking for the apartment door key. "I've got it...somewhere." In the midst of her search, a thought came to mind. Her movement stopped and she glanced up over at Spencer, "Can I ask you something actually? While I'm, you know, erm-"

"Drunk?" Spencer chuckled as he finished her sentence.

"I mean, yeah." She couldn't deny such a fact. "I mean, I always wondered why you left the BAU? You always talk about it in lectures and it just- you talked about it with a lot of love." Spencer's smile faltered at the thought of nostalgic memories. "Sorry, if that's intruding, I just, I-"

"No, no, it's fine," Spencer's words were quick to ease the girl's worrisome thoughts. "I suppose I needed a break, a lot of things happened, I needed time away from the field to process them I guess." He explained, wondering if the girl would even remember any of this by the morning. Would she even know who dropped her off home?

She hummed, "Makes sense I guess." And like that, with no judgement or opinion, she went back to find her apartment key. "Here,"

Y/n swung the door open to her dorm, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Spencer checked.

"I think I can just about make it to my bed," She joked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you, by the way." He didn't have to do what he did. Most professors wouldn't have done. But he, he was different.

His hands found their way back into the deep depths of his pockets as he replied, "I don't just have a responsibility to teach, but also a duty of care, I'm always here to make sure you're okay."

And he would be. For her, definitely. There was something ever so alluring about the girl. Something he would force himself to ignore. Something he wouldn't act on. Something which was inappropriate. 

[edgeray]

Ray every time you post angst im angrily poking the glass of your aquarium >:(

since you clearly HATE me 🙄 can I have some fluff 👉👈

Personal Heater

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Yes, obviously I hate you 🙄. Anyways, how'd you like the arlevie post? :) Hurt, didn't it? Also, no, fuck your fluff,  you're not getting it. Did I hear MORE ANGST :D Content warnings / info - author was just joking: this is fluff, gn! reader, 0.8k words

“Arle,” you tiredly call out, a yawn escaping you as you crack open the office door a bit, revealing your husband still working at her desk. It was already past midnight, and she's been working for the entire day without any breaks except your impromptu visits and for meals. You noticed that she didn't eat as much meat as she usually does in order to return to her paperwork immediately. 

Arlecchino's tuft of hair perks up underneath the piles of paper, and her eyes promptly soften, and a small smile plays on her lips. She sets down her pen. “Yes, love?” 

You open the door more so you can step in, a plate with a cup of tea on top of it in your hand. In your other is another plate, this time of steak tartare, which you personally whipped up. Striding up to her, you set down both of the dishes, before leaning over the desk to place a chaste kiss on the top of her hair. You pull away, chastising her tenderly. “Don't think you were sneaky when you skimped out during dinner. You barely ate.”

A low chuckle comes from your husband and she shakes her head. “I would never think of it, dear. Thank you.” 

Reaching out for your hand, she takes it in hers and she presses her lips against your knuckle, kissing softly as a gesture of her gratitude. You flush slightly. 

“How long will it take for you to finish?” You sigh, observing the small eye bags she dons. 

“I'm afraid that I won't be done until another hour or two. You do not have to wait for me.”

“And go to sleep without my personal heater?” You pout, crossing your arms.

“Is that all I am to you? A personal heater? Not your husband or the ‘Father’ of our children?” Arlecchino muses, lifting her eyebrows as a playful glint catches in her red pupils. 

“Exactly,” you answer with a matching smirk, “you've finally learned of my nefarious intentions.” 

Your husband huffs out in amusement, and she turns in her chair, extending out her arms in order to invite you into her embrace. You don't waste any time accepting it, practically skipping around her desk to sit onto her lap. Wrapping your arms around her neck and seating over her thighs, you clamber into her warm figure. Nuzzling into the space between her shoulder and neck, you kiss up the side of her neck. She kisses the side of your head, right above your ear. 

“I've missed you,” you say in between kisses, placing a kiss on her jawline. 

“I've been here this entire day.”

“Still. Can I stay here until you're done?” 

“Of course.”

You sit there, soaking up all of her body heat, and on occasion shifting your sitting stance to be more comfortable. Arlecchino continues working in that position, unbothered by your weight on top of her. Occasionally, she takes a sip of the tea you bring her but has yet to touch the tartare.

“You need to eat, it'll get bad if you don't,” you remark, using the power of guilt tripping.

It's super effective. “Alright, dear. Would you like some?” 

You shake your head, but then an idea pops up inside your head, a mischievous smile sliding onto your lips. “Can I feed you? You can keep working if I do.” 

Your husband nods, and you squirm in your seat to turn around in her lap. Taking the plate, you take a spoonful of the raw meat, lifting it to her lips. Silently, she allows you to spoon feed her, until the plate is scraped clean. 

“Thank you,” she hums. You nod, and set aside the plate, before turning in her lap again to lean your chin on her shoulder. Eventually, you find an arrangement comfortable to where you fall asleep, your soft snores filling the room. Arlecchino smiles tenderly at you, carding her fingers through your hair as she continues working, scribing down the final details of the mission report. 

Finished with her work, she places down her pen, before carefully and slowly carrying you by sliding her hands underneath your form, lifting you up. You cling onto her unconsciously, and the carrying motion only makes your head placement. With you still in her arms, she walks silently through the hallway to the shared bedroom, where she peels you off of her and places you on the bed, making sure to pull the covers over you. She goes to the bathroom for her nightly routine, before returning to the bed, sliding under the blankets.

Her arms wrap around your midsection, tugging you towards her where you lay partially on top of her, your head against her chest where you can hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Arlecchino watches you for a few moments, your peaceful slumber a common, but nonetheless, appealing sight to her. You’re just so adorable, and Arlecchino can't help but be blissful that this is what every night is like for her: that she gets to hold you like this everyday. 

She gives you a final kiss to your forehead, before resting her chin on your head and closing her eyes.

“Goodnight, my love.”  

[vivwritesfics]

Waiting For The Sun

Chapter Three

Rhett Abbott has been hearing his soulmate in his head for ten years. She's the sweetest thing, nicknamed Muffin after her love of baking. Rhett doesn't know who Muffin is, doesn't know where she is, but hearing her voice always makes his day better. But then Trevor Tillerson is killed and Rhett's life is thrown into chaos. Through it all, Muffin in there for her soulmate. She wants nothing more than to find him, even through the chaos.

Soulmate AU

a/n: sorry this took so long!! but also, happy birthday to my favourite cowboy!!

Warnings: violence, abusive parenting, smut-ish

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How is your date going? She didn't know if she sounded bitter when she asked, but she hoped that she didn't.

His laugh sounded in her head and she immediately grew embarrassed. You sound jealous, Muffin.

Muffin. He'd come up with the nickname just a few weeks ago, when she'd stress baked her way through her exams. They were just seventeen, and she swore she had never felt this level of stress in her life. It was cute and it suited her. He hadn't called her anything else since.

She scoffed out loud and hoped that he couldn't hear it. Me? Jealous? No way, she muttered in his head. She'd never stop him from going out and living his life, even if he was her soulmate.

He must have known this girl he was on a date with wasn't his soulmate, but he was young and his Muffin didn't mind. This was him discovering himself in a way that she would never be allowed to.

How is the movie? She asked as she continued on with her chores.

He couldn't have been from the same State as her, she decided when he first told her that he was going to the movies. If he was from the same State as her, he would have been outside like he was. Granted, he wouldn't have been hanging laundry fresh from the machine out to dry like she was. Wouldn't have been folding already dry laundry like she was.

Truthfully, she was too scared to head back inside. Her father's bad moods had become more and more frequent since her older sister had run off with her soulmate.

Just three days after their connection had started, they found each other. It didn't seem fair, not when she'd been trying to find her soulmate for the last three years.

It had been three months since her sister had left, three months since she'd disappeared, leaving only a note.

Her father had been so angry. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, Esther finally finding her soulmate. But her father had shouted, had worked himself into a rage until he was throwing glasses against the wall and letting them shatter.

His mood had improved in the three months since, but not by a lot. It didn't take a lot for him to fly off the handle. Chewing too loud or the morning prayer not being to his liking. That was enough to set him off, to have her doing chores in the garden instead of in the house.

It's good, I think, he answered as she slowly folded the sheets.

You think?

He hummed. Yep, I think.

She paused on her sheet folding as her bright, bubbly laugh filled his head. Aren't you watching the movie?

Trying to, he answered. But, uh, I'm getting a handjob right now.

With her fathers shirt in her hands, she stopped, brows furrowed in confusion. A what?

A handjob, Mufifn.

She rolled her eyes and began folding the shirt. Yeah, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that, cowboy.

There was a good moment before he responded. Oh my God, Muffin. You really don't know? Do you at least know about sex?

Normally, she would have chided him for the 'Oh my God', comment. But she was far too embarrassed for that. Yes, I know what sex is, she replied quickly as she placed the shirt on the basket in such a way that it had creases forming.

But you don't know about pleasure.

She didn't answer as she folded the shirt and placed it in the basket. C'mon, Muffin, came his voice in her head. There's no need to feel embarrassed.

I'm not embarrassed, she insisted, but her voice was shaking and it was so obviously a lie. I know about... sex, okay? My sister told me about it. She picked up her laundry basket from the floor and took it back into the house.

Muffin, sex and pleasure aren't the same thing, he replied. Well, as best he could while getting a handjob. They're normally entwined, but they're not the same.

She sucked in a breath and placed the laundry basket down. Can you tell me about it? About pleasure?

He let out that usual hum, the one she'd grown to know so well after three years. Anything for you, Muffin.

***

It had been a rough night for her. Her sleep had been restless, filled with anxiety that she couldn't quite place. On nights like this, her brain took her back to that evening, when her soulmate taught her about pleasure. She hadn't been brave enough to touch herself, then, but it had made her curious.

You there, Cowboy? She tried as she got herself ready for church that morning.

She hadn't expected a reply, certainly not at this time in the morning. But then a gruff mornin', Muffin filled her head.

She couldn't hide her surprise, not from him. What're you doing awake? She asked as she pulled her shoes onto her feet.

Haven't slept yet, Muffin. As soon as he'd said it, tiredness flooded her body. She didn't know who he was, but she could feel his exhaustion. That wasn't fair now, was it? Are you heading to church?

She gave a nod, one he obviously couldn't see. Yeah, she answered. As soon as I'm back, will you tell me why you haven't slept?

Yeah, he answered far too quickly. Yeah, I will.

He didn't speak to her while she was at church. She was appreciative as she listened to the pastor's sermon. She couldn't concentrate on church, though.

It was just like that time her soulmate kept her awake to talk her through things. It was his birthday, his twenty-first, and he insisted on giving her an orgasm, however he could. Her mind had strayed at church the morning after, and she couldn't meet the pastor's eyes.

Her mind was straying this morning, too.

He'd been awake nearly twenty-four hours. Why wasn't he dead on his feet? You still awake? She tried as she followed her parents out of the church and into their car.

Yeah, Muffin. Are you done at church?

She hummed as they began driving home. Are you gonna tell me why you're still awake?

His laugh filled her head as her father drove them towards their house. Past the Tillerson ranch, past the Abbott ranch, past Rhett Abbott on his horse. He tipped his hat towards her as she gave him a small wave.

But her soulmate had fallen silent. Not on his own volition, mind you. As desperately as he tried to answer her, he couldn't. Fuck! He eventually shouted, voice so loud in her mind. I can't fucking tell you, Muffin.

It's okay, Cowboy, she replied, trying to sooth him. That bad, huh?

I don't want you to hate me.

The car stopped and she hopped out. I'm not gonna hate you, cowboy. I'm sure it can't be that bad.

He couldn't respond to that.

Her mind strayed to him as she got on with her morning. As she cleaned the kitchen and made lunch for her parents, she was thinking about him.

But then her mind moved to finding him. How was she ever meant to do that when she was stuck here, in Wabang? She had no way to get out into the world and try to find the man made for her. No money, no skills.

I'm gonna ask my father if I can get a job, she said, trying to contact her soulmate for the first time in hours. They didn't have to speak every minute of every day. The silence was nice, knowing he was always there.

That's huge, Muffin, he replied. Gonna try for your local grocery store?

She shrugged her shoulders as she swept the decking outside. Maybe. I think it's about time I have some financial freedom, you know?

The moment she heard her father coming through the front door, her heartbeat was erratic. She propped the broom up against the fence that enclosed the decking and headed back inside.

"Hello papa," she called as she grabbed his usual beer from the fridge and poured it into his beer mug for him. As quickly as she could she marched to the living room and passed it to him.

Her father was already in his usual armchair. He took the beer from her hands and sipped it as he looked at his youngest daughter. He didn't say anything, but he didn't much talk anymore. He hadn't since Esther disappeared.

"Papa," she began as she sat on the sofa to his right. She was just sitting on the edge of it, back straight, too nervous to let herself sit comfortable. "I want to get a job."

"No," her father immediately said. "Not happening."

Her face dropped and she looked down at her lap. "Papa, pl-"

"I said no."

"But-"

Suddenly, his beer mug was flying at the wall just to the left of her. The noise that left her lips was full of fear, but she didn't dare move. "I said no, and my word is final," he said and settled back into his armchair, as if nothing ever happened.

Grabbing him another drink in a new beer mug. She cleaned up the mess of shattered glass behind the sofa and wiped up the liquid from the floor.

How did it go? Her soulmate asked as she swept up the broken glass.

She dumped the glass into the bin and wiped under her eyes. I don't wanna talk about it, she replied as she headed back outside to finish sweeping the deck.

Oh, Muffin. I'm gonna get you out of there.

She didn't cry about it, not when it wouldn't have done any good. Her father had been this way for the last seven years, ever since Esther left. He'd gotten them to scratch out Esther's face from every picture in the house, erasing any memory of her. All of the things she'd left behind had been discarded or burned in the yard.

She wasn't allowed to cry when her sister was erased from her life.

There was a knock at the door. She placed her broom against the fence and rushed through the house, to the front door. As she walked past her father, he didn't move, taking a long sip of his beer as she pulled the front door open.

One of her blonde haired neighbours stood at the front door. "Hey, Billy," she said as she wiped her hands on her skirt.

"Hey," Billy replied and pulled his hat from his head. She couldn't quite place the expression he was wearing, but something was definitely wrong. "Have you seen Trevor around?"

There was a time where she'd considered that one of the Tillerson boys might have been her soulmate. It was a haunting thought, and one that left her mind the moment it had entered. Billy was the best of a bad bunch, but she didn't didn't want him as her soulmate.

"Trevor? No," she said and leaned against the doorframe. "Is he okay?"

Billy shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. I hope so," he mumbled, eyes on the floor. And then, when his eyes met her own and he looked up at her, wearing puppy dog eyes. "I think something bad happened to him."

"Like what?" She couldn't stop herself from asking. There was something like guilt on her face when she met Billy's eyes again.

But he still answered. "I think Rhett Abbott killed him."

Rhett Abbott. She didn't know much about the man. Even though they'd grown up together, they'd had few interactions. She knew Rhett had a few run ins with the law, had seen Sheriff Joy (back before she became acting sheriff) bringing him back to the Abbott ranch in the pack of the police car a couple of times.

But Rhett wasn't a murderer, was he? He'd been sweet, if a little flirty, every time they passed. Tipping his hat or wearing that smile that looked as though he didn't know it was charming.

She looked back at her father, let her gaze linger on him for no longer that two seconds, before she turned back to Billy. "Do you want some help looking for him?"

The smile that crossed his face was wide and far too happy. "Yeah, I'd appreciate that."

Rhett Taglist: @finnydraws

@writtingrose

@nurse-sainz

@biancathecool

@xoxabs88xox

@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

Series Taglist: @nessjo

@butterflykale1doscope

@eternallyvenus

@daughterofapollo-7

@babybluemissy

[kitkats-and-kittens]

So I know Damian having magic is something that’s more a fun little tease, that is occasionally a minor plot point. Like him using a rituals and stuff to trap villains.

But genuinely I think it would be hilarious if Damian ‘born and raised in a supernatural cult’ Al Ghul just pulled up in Gotham knowing magic.

His arrival was already chaotic as hell, now imagine him using obscure ass spells that have probably fallen out of existence since Ra’s or hell Mother Soul was around.

Even funnier still if it took the Batfam like an embarrassingly long time to figure it out. Like yes they are the greatest detectives on the planet, but they’re also oblivious as hell and Damian getting into various shenanigans trying to keep the magic thing hidden is absolutely hilarious to me.

Dick and Alfred would figure it out first, because they’re living one on one with the kid for about a year.

It was probably some big dramatic moment, where Dick was like dying and Damian who had spent a year with him at this point decided he’d sooner risk being kicked out rather than let his big brother die.

So he brings him back and it takes Dick a moment since he’s still processing the near death experience, but eventually he gets to sit down with Damian and talk about why he didn’t say something sooner. Which leads to a very hurt/comfort moment where he assures Damian he’ll always belong and other sentimental shit.

Stephanie’s next, mostly because she spends the most times with Damian outside of Dick and also cause I love their relationship.

They’re probably arguing over something incredibly stupid and petty that Damian is taking way too seriously and Steph is pushing just for the funnsies and in a moment of vindictive pettiness (and the memory of Mara doing something very similar to him when they were in the league) he just shoots a spell at her.

It isn’t anything harmful. Probably something that gives her a really bad hair day for the next week, but Stephanie is very much stunned. Damian too, because he didn’t really expect this to be the way he revealed the whole magic thing.

But it turns out Steph is just extremely excited. Henceforth Damian is recruited when she needs to get up to some shit or prank the rest of her siblings without their knowledge.

The team was scary before, but with Steph now having unsupervised access to magic and firmly reassuring Damian that when it comes to Bruce all bets are off, things get infinitely worse.

Tim comes after and honestly he’s a little annoyed it took him this long.

He’s suspected for ages, but between cases and hanging out with the his team he’s never been able to lay down the foundations of his research.

However after witnessing Damian perform a move not humanly possible while out on patrol his interest is once again peaked which leads him down a 3 day rabbit hole about the league and magic and a bunch of other bullshit that probably ends with him on the most wanted list in 31 states.

His investigation is brought to a head however when one day completely stumped for answers he just approaches Damian. Exhausted and burned out and is like “do you have magic”.

And Damian who hasn’t been actively hiding his abilities in about a year now is like. “Yes”.

At which point Tim nods, gives him a thumbs up, and proceeds to pass out.

Of course it takes Bruce the longest, because that man is constantly running on 3 hours sleep and several cups of red bull. Damian is now doing nothing to hide his abilities and with his fathers lack of a reaction it seems like everyone’s on board, however unbeknownst to him the rest of the batfam is trying to very gently nudge their father along to the realisation that his son can indeed use magic.

Dick goes on about how strange it is that Damian can just appear from the shadows and why do you suppose that is?

And Bruce nods proudly and is just like “he’s a very talented boy isn’t he”.

Steph pranks him, using very obviously supernatural means and when questioned just says Damian helped her, which Bruce takes as them both acquiring supernatural artefacts via dubious methods.

This leads to him and Damian having a sit down, during which both of them are experiencing two very different conversations as consequence of Bruce’s attempt to gentle parent his way through this. He tries to explain to his son that some things can be very dangerous if not handled with proper care and he doesn’t want him to get hurt and whoever was giving him such dangerous things should be made known and Damian is wondering why his father thinks he’s doing drugs.

Tim pulls out a whiteboard and a pen and gives him a 3 hours rant on why his son could possibly have magic and Bruce, equally as exhausted as his son, but still trying to listen and support his hobbies (however strange they are) just nods, like that’s nice honey.

It all comes to a head one random day when Damian just floats a coffee mug across the table. And Bruce kinda stares between it and his son blinking and his eyes very suddenly widen with realisation.

He later calls Talia asking why she didn’t tell him and also requesting some manuals on how to deal with a child and their weirdly ominous/sentient magical powers.

By the time Duke rolls around it’s common knowledge and he’s pretty happy to bond with Damian over weird superpower stuff. It’s also nice to train against someone who you can’t instantly obliterate via weird light manipulating techniques so that is very much appreciated.

And for anyone wondering Cass and Jason have both lived in the league and were well aware of the Al Ghuls magical practicing tendencies. Jason tutored under Talia for a little while in fact and they’ve both been placing bets on how long it would take the rest of their family to find out.

[ikemenomegas]

Levi decides he wants a baby. He doesn't have an alpha, but this is the modern era. Who needs an alpha to have a baby...

But the thought of a total stranger siring his child doesn't satisfy him either. After a year of thinking it over, he finally brings it up in front of his friends and someone recommends

You

Deeply suspicious of an alpha "chill" enough to simply stud for free, and recommended by his friends no less, he accepts an invitation to a group gathering where he spends the whole time not so subtly eyeing you and then pretending not to.

And when you finally get the opportunity to talk to him, you're so offensively nice, Levi has to hold himself back from ruining the encounter

But you can tell he has something on his mind. He doesn't tell you, but your receptiveness, laughing at his clumsy attempts at humor, it all lower his guard.

So when he finally meets you, formally, at a cafe with plenty of private space for you to talk, it's just a tiny bit less awkward.

He reminds himself that he doesn't even need your body. He just needs you to agree.

And he's so frustrated, because you don't. You want to "get to know him", whatever that means. And he knows it's reasonable. He does. But he's waited for so long. He's not getting any younger. And he's waited so long to bring it up and it cannot be so easy yet so impossible.

And again, you're so patient with him, with this frustration so deep that it nearly brings tears to his eyes.

Levi has spent his life carving space in the world for himself, surviving things that aren't so hard for other people, and it's painful, knowing that this thing is so important, that he can't just do this himself.

But you meet again. He wonders, mutinously, which of his acquaintances (...friends, temporarily downgraded) has turned rat on him to make you so nice, kind, patient, attentive, interested. In him.

Yet somehow, before he knows it, you've gone six months. Somehow, it's nothing like he'd expected.

"My answer is yes," you said, in a gap between conversation, cupping a lavender latte, a travesty but so far his only complaint today, between your palms. "But..." you hesitated, but then your resolve seemed to crystalize before his eyes, "I'd like to be involved. With the baby. If you'll let me, if you're open to it."

Levi knows his eyes go wide, and he knows he all but flinches, because he's never even imagined you asking this, never imagined asking you. That's not what this is. You're a donor, a practical stranger. That's what he keeps telling himself rather than wonder if he's just someone you humor on the weekends or odd weekday morning, rather than wonder if he'd rather you actually spend a few nights with him, instead of going through the procedure Hange had told him about, rather than wonder if the kid's going to have your eyes or your smile or your way of folding a napkin with perfect corners after a meal.

His heart is pounding and you look obviously worried, like you've gone too far. It's just...

"A baby is a lot of work," you say, waving your hands like you're showing him you're not a threat. Your scent turns placating, when did he start being able to scent you even under the scent patches? "Even with your family helping. And even if we're not mated, I've been doing research. They say having the donor alpha offer pheromones can help your recovery, and if the kid is omega or alpha, it helps them bond stably." You're babbling. This is surely not what he wants.

"You know what, never mind. I'm sorry. I know you value your privacy, and you won't need another person intruding on your space after the birth. It was wildly out of line for me to--"

"Can I think about it?" he chokes out before you can rescind the offer. "If you, if I, shit," he curses, his cheeks are flushed, but he's cold, but he's not scared. It's just unexpected.

You relax, but he can still see that you're uneasy. He's so stupidly grateful when you nod though and he wonders if you can scent him too, if you can taste it wafting faintly from his neck, that relief.

Neither of you manage to stomach anything more than another tea, and your smile is as weak as his joke about the second latte you order. When you turn your wrist, he can see the rapid flutter of the pulse there and he knows your heart is hammering. He blames it on the caffeine.

You give him space, although you continue to text him regularly. He's stupidly grateful that your texts are normal, even though he appreciates the effort it must take to pretend - because he knows you, and he feels the same way. It takes effort to reply, but he does, because he doesn't want you to think that he wants this to be over.

He's not running away. He's just thinking.

Erwin is no help, happily mated as he is, but he is comforting and encouraging, and being around Erwin's two-year-old, which is really not as bad as people say it is, helps.

Seeing Erwin's alpha doing the normal childcare things Levi has seen a hundred times and thought nothing of helps too.

Hange is clinical and excited about it, spouting unhelpful statistics about post-partum alpha-omega bonds, even between unmated pairs, and mentions studies done with surrogate couples. That makes Levi flush, briefly imagining he's having your baby and not his own, something he quickly shakes off.

Mikasa is surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, level headed about the whole thing. The only thing she's never normal about has been her own mate anyways.

And she asks him the question everyone else may have also been asking, but he hadn't heard.

"What do you want?"

And then he gets to sourly sit through dinner where Mikasa looks at Eren like she wants to literally eat him, like down to the bone, and he excuses himself, wondering how long it will take until he's soft and sluggish, until he can't move so fast that Eren can't tell when he's moved.

Then he sits in his house for a week. He asks you not to call, not to text. To give him time. And you do, and he hopes that you hate it, at least just a little.

At the end of that week, he can't eat in the morning. He turns his phone over and over in his hand before he takes a deep breath, feeling like he's going to throw up.

And then he calls you.

[airas-story]

Dealbreaker

“Right,” Stephen drawled. “I think I’ll avoid the risk of getting sprayed with oil by your idea of metal pets.”

Tony’s smile faltered. “Pets?” Tony repeated. His brow furrowed. “For some reason I just thought you of all people would understand,” Tony muttered. Stephen paused, the sense that he’d misstepped somewhere hitting him. Tony shook his head and rubbed at the oil stain on his cheek, spreading the oil around rather than cleaning it off. “I think you should go. I’ve got things to do.”

What? “We had plans—“ Stephen started.

“Yeah, well—“ Tony’s phone beeped and Tony looked at it. “Looks like I’m needed somewhere.”

Stephen didn’t mention that Tony had just cancelled their plans before he’d received that text.

He couldn’t help the pang of hurt. He thought that he and Tony had been getting along well. Better than well, even. 

What had just happened?

“How’s Tony?” Stephen asked Colonel Rhodes in what he hoped was an entirely normal tone of voice and not an obviously prying one. Colonel Rhodes often acted as one of the Avengers liaisons with Kamar Taj—though Stephen preferred when Tony did—and Stephen had no problems taking advantage of the opportunity to try to get answers. “I haven’t seen him this week.” Which shouldn’t have been much. But Tony had cancelled every single one of the plans they’d had and wasn’t responding to Stephen’s texts when before they’d kept a fairly steady conversation going, despite the fact that they were both busy people.

Stephen had the strong feeling he’d messed up somewhere but couldn’t for the life of him figure out how.

“Oh he’s moping about something.” Colonel Rhodes rolled his eyes. “Refused to tell me though since I’d ‘take the traitor’s side’.” Stephen had the sinking feeling that he was the ‘traitor’ that Colonel Rhodes was talking about. “You don’t happen to know what he’s talking about?”

Stephen shifted slightly. “He was fine, for the most part, last time I saw him when he was showing me his ‘bots.”

Colonel Rhodes jerked a little, staring at Stephen in surprise. “Things are more serious than I thought.” Colonel Rhodes sounded strangely impressed by that. “If he introduced you to DUM-E and U.”

“Yes, well, it didn’t—“ he froze, the words really hitting him. Introduced. Not showed. “Oh.”

He stared at the Cloak of Levitation. Thought about how Tony nicknamed them and teased them and while he treated the Cloak of Levitation with as much respect as he treated anyone else, which was to say, not much, he treated the Cloak of Levitation with as much respect as he treated anyone else, which was to say he treated them like anyone else. Like the Cloak of Levitation was a person in their own right.

“I think I need to go,” he said, standing up.

Colonel Rhodes blinked at him, before raising an amused eyebrow. “Wow, I recognize that look. That’s almost identical to Tony’s ‘shit, I messed up’ look. What did you do?”

Stephen felt a quick curl of shame. “I didn’t realize he was introducing me to DUM-E and U.”

Colonel Rhodes let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s gonna hurt.”

“He hasn’t spoken to me in a week,” Stephen said. Because yes, it hurt, just a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit. “And he cancelled all of our plans for the foreseeable future.”

Colonel Rhodes didn’t look particularly sympathetic. He looked a little like he was finding this hilarious which was entirely unfair. “Yeah, well, you didn’t like his kids. Kind of a deal breaker for him.”

I hadn’t realized I was being introduced to his kids, Stephen wanted to argue. He had a feeling it would do him any good. “How much of a deal breaker?” he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer. And that he really wasn’t going to like it.

Colonel Rhodes moved closer, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Good luck.” He sounded far too cheerful for what were the furthest thing from encouraging words. “You’re going to need it.”

“You spend a lot of time with Tony,” Stephen said, trying not to sound as awkward as he felt as he tried to get the information he needed from a teenager. “And with his bots,” Stephen added.

Peter’s face scrunched up, but he didn’t stop digging into the ice cream that Stephen was unashamedly bribing him with. “Oh, is that what this is about?”

“And what is ‘that’?” Stephen asked, not even bothering trying to be delicate in his questioning. It was why he’d bought the ice cream, after all.

“Why you and Mr. Stark aren’t talking right now. FRIDAY says that Mr. Stark is maybe overreacting and you didn’t understand, Mr. Stark thinks that you’re a jerk who steals candies from babies.”

Stephen blinked at that. “What?”

“Except his bots are the babies and your manners were the candy?” Peter said, sounding uncertain. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. I didn’t quite follow his train of logic.”

“I don’t have manners for anyone,” Stephen muttered. 

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, but you didn’t like his kids. It’s kind of a deal breaker.”

So Colonel Rhodes had said. Stephen wanted to protest that he hadn’t meant to be rude to Tony’s kids. He hadn’t even meant to be rude to the bots when he hadn’t realized he was being introduced. He’d just been… well, his normal caustic self. Which Tony was normally just fine with. That Tony was normally more than fine with. It was honestly part of how and why they’d bonded initially.

Peter gave him a consoling pat on the arm. The cloak knocked Peter’s hand away in annoyance. “It’s okay,” Peter said, tone almost cheerful. “He’s still moping about it, which means that he’s still upset.”

Stephen gave him a narrowed-eyed look. “How is that a good thing?”

“If he’s not over it, yet. It means that he’s still waiting for you to fix it,” Peter explained, as though that was obvious.

That was both good to know and far less helpful than Stephen would like it to be. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this when he won’t even talk to me?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been in like… one relationship. And honestly MJ just sort of tells me when I’ve messed up and how to fix it. She’s direct like that.” He made a face. “I should probably be more grateful for that. Especially looking at you and Mr. Stark. You two are a mess.”

Because that was exactly what Stephen wanted, his relationship—had they even been a relationship? They really hadn’t gone into specifics about that—with Tony to be judged by a 17 year old. Life aspirations fulfilled. Still, he was maybe a little closer to figuring out how to fix things now.

[blubberquark]

Looking for Group

Somebody posted on Discord

Does anybody want to collaborate on a [game] project?

but nobody answered.

Nobody said yes. Nobody said no. Nobody even asked follow-up questions. And yet, people in that server really do want to collaborate on games and projects. What happened?

Obviously nothing happened because the asker did not specify anything. What kind of project? With who? For how long? What should I bring to the table if we collaborate? I don't know. I was busy anyway. Maybe I can set up the asker with other people, who weren't busy. But this is not an isolated incident. Every day, thousands of people ask in chat rooms, forums, and mailing lists "Does anybody want to collaborate?"

Answering with yes is a risky move. Imagine being on the other side, and somebody asks an open-ended question... Imagine being on the other side of "I am having a software problem, can anybody DM me?"

Nobody wants to be on the hook to be somebody's personal tech support without at least knowing the kind of problem, and nobody wants to commit, even tentatively, to a creative project. It's kind of a red flag. What can you do to allow others to message you, to just tentatively get you to agree, to just agree to ask you for more details of your project? What should you do so people who say yes don't feel like they are wasting their own time, and yours?

1. Scope

The most important thing to communicate is scope. It's less important what kind of creative project it is, but how big. Is it an ongoing side project? A weekend? A couple of hours a week for a couple of months?

There is a world of difference between "Does anybody want to collaborate on a weekend project?" and "Does anybody want to collaborate on an epic story with 20 characters, multiple storylines, lore, 50 hours of side quests, and 800 pieces of unique loot?"

2. Stakes and Commitments

The next most important thing is commitments. This is doubly important if you are working with friends. Sometimes you want to collaborate on Ludum Dare, and if your partner is busy on that weekend, you'd rather know now. Sometimes you want to submit a demo of your game to some kind of competition or showcase, and it has to be ready at a certain point.

Sometimes you are really putting your heart and souls into a project, and your friend is just in it "for fun" and thinks you are ruining his fun by taking the project seriously. Your "One Story You Had Inside Yourself" can be your friend's "Learn C++ in 21 Days". Your "ticket into the glamorous games industry" can be your friend's "goof off with blender for a couple of hours and then try a different hobby".

It's important to talk out stakes and commitments with your friends, because you might be able to rope in a friend into a project without doing this. You could rope a friend into your project and he starts resenting you a bit because you are gung-ho about art, and your friend just wants to spend time with you, and you are exacting and controlling and ask him to revise the dialogue/animations/3D models he contributed.

If you are talking to strangers, you can't rope them in. They just won't agree to work with you without details.

3. Skills

If you are asking for collaborators in a programming discord, chances are you will get replies from other programmers. Chances are, wherever you ask, your post will be seen by many people who are good at the things you yourself are already good at. Are you a programmer looking for programmers, or a programmer looking for level designers and artists?

There are many reasons for three programmers or three pixel artists to work together, but by and large, you need people who complement your skill set, but fit into your work flow. If you are working with Unity3D, you probably want to work with 3D artists who have rudimentary knowledge of git and C#, even if they aren't supposed to code, and you need rudimentary knowledge of their modelling software and workflows.

So when looking for people to work with, you need to tell them what you can do, what you can't do, what you want them to do, and how you want to work together.

4. Topic/Idea/Design/Genre

This is point #4. This is deliberate.

You could probably take the previous 3 points and cobble together a "looking for group" post. People rarely do that. They usually have an idea they want to realise. Ideas are a dime a dozen though, and you can still pivot later, after you have found your group members.

It can't hurt to include this. What kind of project do you have in mind?

5. Management and Art Direction

There is one more big thing to consider: If you already have a project in mind, you are taking control of the project. You are the boss, you decide that you are looking for four people to collaborate on a science-based dragon breeding MMORPG, any four people who sign up know what they are getting into. It makes sense that the topic is not open for discussion. It also makes sense that you are the project manager, because you made a list of skills and work that needs to be done, and you have worked all this out already.

We are looping back to point #2 here. Why should people commit to your project if you are holding the reins? What do they get out of it?

You should communicate as early as possible what the creative freedoms are, what kind of tone you want to pursue, and how free your fellow artists are to express themselves.

In a commercial project, you can have control because you pay people. If you are doing a game jam project, or just any unpaid hobby collaboration, you should consider giving the others some creative freedom.

In a game jam, you could just decide that somebody else gets the creative control when you pivot to a different idea. In a large, commercial project, it makes sense to delineate how much creative freedom an individual artist has. In an open-source project, the maintainer can just review a patch and decide not to use it.

Ideally, you should communicate early on how weird or wacky you want the result to be, whether you want something with broad commercial appeal, with a sombre and serious tone, or if anything goes. That would be a bit much for the initial post, so just give a hint whether this would be a good project for somebody who really wants to put pigs and frogs in every game, or a good project who wants to make a character based on her ex boyfriend that the player can shoot in the groin. Sometimes people have the most specific ideas...

If on the other hand you have no idea what kind of creative direction you want to go, maybe you shouldn't go this route at all. If you want to give creative control to a yet to be determined team member, why not join another team instead? If you don't know where the project is going, you can't really plan who and what skills you need anyway.

Examples:

A good request for a collaoration reads a bit like a dating profile or a job ad. It covers the five points mentioned above.

Hey, I am Robert, art director and senior gameplay programmer at Blubberquark Software. I am fluent (among other languages) in Python, C#, Lua, and Haxe. I would like to join a team working with Unity3D, libGDX, löve or Flixel for the upcoming Ludum Dare game jam, in the Hamburg area. I like to use Blender, Gimp, Wings3D, ASEPrite, TrenchBroom, LDtk, Tiled, Ogmo, or Crocotile 3D. I also learned some 3DS Max and Cinema4D in university, but I don't have a license for those.

Here's a fictionalised version of myself, looking for a game jam team. To be clear, I am not looking for a team, but if I was, I'd make sure I don't need to learn a new set of tools for a weekend game jam. I'd try to make sure we all know how to use the engine, and we all know how to use the same source control, and we can all build and run a project before the jam starts. I wouldn't want to do a Ludum Dare remotely, so all this goes in there.

Since this is about Ludum Dare, scope and stakes are clear, and the skills I would use are in there. Skills that are irrelevant to Ludum Dare are not mentioned. Topic and creative control will depend on the jam theme, which is TBD.

Hello, we are Jim (programming) and Julius (level design, turn-based games expert). We are working on a fantasy JRPG called "animecha generica" that we hope to sell on Steam. We already have a gameplay prototype with placeholder characters and pixel art, but we would like to work with a skilled artist to create more interesting character designs and expressive/emotive portraits for the conversation system. If you join us, you would create characters, character portraits, quest lines, and dialogue, and we would split the revenue thee ways. We are also looking for a musician (work for hire basis).

This sounds like an early-stage commercial project. There is an engine and a prototype, but the design seems to depend on the content, and the developers are looking for somebody who can contribute the content. The scope sounds rather large (probably at least 5 hours of gameplay, maybe more) and the time commitment would be full-time until release. The artist they are looking for would do a little bit of everything, from art direction and narrative design down to art assets, and there would probably be a lot of overlap between the roles of two developers and the artist. Everybody wears multiple hats.

This sounds really risky, and the success of the project would depend on none of the three developers screwing it up.

Hi, I am Takeshi Kovacs, and I am making a new game engine based on Vulkan rendering, with its on scripting language, but optionally scripted in Python or C#. If this sounds interesting to you, I would like to work with you on a small game project of your choice, and help you realise your game design to test the viability of my Vladimir-and-Estragon Engine. Pick any weekend game jam of your choice. Pacific Time Zone only.

This seems low-pressure, and of limited scope. It could be a good after hours project, but it's probably not necessarily a good fit for a beginning programmer. You'd learn a new and unproven engine and scripting language. Apart from wasted time, it can't hurt that much to try. If you are a beginner, you could try to implement Pong or Tetris with Takeshi's help.

If you take up this offer, you would enjoy significant creative control, but the main objective would not be to produce a game for people to enjoy, but example code, or a game mechanics as a proof of concept for the engine.

We are making an open source shmup written in libGDX. We are always looking for new contributors. We have 100 stars on GitHub, and 50 players, according to our analytics. For the next release, we would like to add new levels, new power-ups, more ships, more content. Play our game [here] or build it from source by [following] [these] [instructions] [(Outdated Wiki Page For Ubuntu 20.04)]. If you have experience with Steam Workshop, talk to us on [our Discord].

This project has a medium scope, semi-mature code base, and low time commitment. You could probably contribute some content, or a patch to the engine, and nobody would really rely in you to stick around. On the other hand, you have little influence on the overall game design. You could certainly try: You could make a pull request that completely re-vamps the gameplay, but at that point, you might as well start a hostile fork.

We at secret studio are making otome dating simulator. Want to have demo ready for PAX Moonbase. We are looking for multiple character artists who can draw our characters on-model on a work-for-hire basis, and two additional writers for our writing team. We are looking for candidates who have experience with authoring systems like twine, ink, Ren'Py, Visual Novel Maker, or RPG Maker. Experience with YarnSpinner is a plus, but not required. You have the opportunity to design your own otome love interests and story lines. You will be expected to work under our creative director.

Like the JRPG example above, this is a commercial project with a large scope and fixed design, but these people are looking to hire more people who wear fewer hats each to create content quickly. This looks like a job ad for a paid position. It should be! You would have some creative freedom, but since this is a commercial project, you will have to stick with the marketing demographics and write romance storylines for girls who like boys, and any ideas you want to convey have to fit into that framework. It looks like they are using YarnSpinner and an undisclosed game engine, and they are willing to teach you how to use their tools on the job, but they seems to expect a writing background, and some prior experience in the tools/workflow/production side of visual novels specifically.

Hi. My name is Jeff. I work in theatre and I produce radio plays. I have podcasting and sound recording equipment at work. I play the guitar, badly, and I can borrow an old Moog synthesiser. I want to collaborate on a game project, by producing foley sound effects, or recording short stings and jingles. I know some QBasic from back in the day, but I haven't programmed much since then. I have licenses for Ableton, Photoshop, and Autodesk Maya.

Jeff is looking for a group. Jeff is not looking for a big commitment. He is willing to help a project out. Jeff has listed some skills and things he could contribute to a project. He is not looking for a new full-time job, but maybe a paid side gig.

Hi. I am Raven Siege Tank Banshee Medivac, a sophomore student majoring in computer science and underwater basket weaving at New England University, Arkham. I can use Blender, Photoshop, and and Logic Pro. I would like to help out with an open-source game project. I would also consider doing a puzzle platformer together. I know some PyGame.

There is almost but not quite enough to go on in this one. In what capacity would Raven work in a collaboration? What kind of scope is right, here? Maybe Raven would like to work on that shmup written in Java, but as far as the puzzle platformer is concerned, we don't know why Raven can't just make it solo with PyGame and Photoshop.

TL;DR

If you want to find people to work together with, you must communicate scope, commitments, and skills you need and skills you bring to the table. Explaining what kind of idea you want realised is also important, as is creative direction, but not as important as the first three. Your post should look like a job ad. Read your post and think if you would join that project or ask that person to join yours.

[heartss4matthewq]

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY

SUMMARY: eva hangs out with matt at a party, it takes a strong turn of events

contains: smut, cockwarming, dom!matt, matt’s pov, no y/n 🥰

a/n; i wanted to use a name lmk if that was a bad idea also i have SO many fics in my drafts like holy shit ima finish them soon i promise 💪

chris: orange

nick: purple

matt: blue

eva: green

  ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

MATTS POV

i walked downstairs and sat down on the couch trying to find something to do for the day.

“we could go to top golf..?”

“nah that’s boring, matt what do you wanna do because you haven’t spoken up ina while” just when i was about to respond, my phone rang.

“guys eva is calling wait” i answered and put it on speaker.

“heyy evss what’s up?”

“yo you’re on speaker btw so we can all hear you”

“heyy guys so i didn’t know if y’all were busy tonight but i heard madi is having a party at her house i think we should gooo!!!”

“wait bet” i said hoping for approval of nick and chris

“yeah one-hundred percent we’re going because we were literally just trying to figure out something to do tonight”

“alright yayy, see u guys tonight love you so muchhh”

1 hour later

i was walking past nicks room when i heard him on the phone with eva

“but nickkk, pink is my favorite color”

“yes i know girl but if you wear the black dress you’ll match with matt and i’m pretty sure he likes you back but i don’t knoww”

“nick, i really like your brother i might tell him tonight to be honest!”

does eva like me? do i like her back? i always thought she was pretty..

the thoughts were racing in my head

this shouldn’t be making me horny.

as soon as i was going to pull my jeans down, nick yelled “MATTHEW WE WANNA LEAVE HURRY UP”

shit.

“COMING, JUST LET ME GRAB MY KEYS SINCE YOU CANT FUCKING GET YOUR LICENSE AT THE AGE OF 20!”

at the party.

me,chris, and nick all waited outside of the house for eva.

“damn we should’ve just picked her up, her uber is taking years” chris chuckled as he sipped his pepsi

5 mins passed and eva finally stepped out of the car in a tight, black dress that carved out all of her curves. i couldnt ignore how good she looked tonight.

“hey matt you look good!” eva complimented me.

“not to bad yourself” i laughed and lightly tapped her back.

a couple hours had passed and eva was drunk and high as fuck and i could tell.

she started to walk over to me as i was sitting on an arm chair.

“hey matty” she said loudly

“hi evs, there’s no seats available so i can get up if you want!” i said so she wouldn’t have to stand

“i think i’ll just sit on your lap if you’re good with that”

“oh uhm yeah i guess that’s fine”

i was good for a little while until she started to move around a lot to get comfortable.

obviously this made me get squirmish. i grabbed her hips so she’d stop moving so much.

i did not need her to feel her best friends hard-on.

“what’s wrong matty can’t handle me grinding on your lap?” she said seductively.

“stop talking before i stuff your mouth” i said suddenly gaining confidence

“you won’t do shit matthew”

“i’ll prove your ass wrong” i responded back

“do it then”

with those words i pulled her panties to the side and unzipped my jeans. i took my jacket off and wrapped it around us so no one could see what we were doing.

in one swift motion i took my dick out and put it inside of her, earning a quiet whimper from her.

the worst thing that could’ve possibly happened in this moment happened.

all of her friends came up and started talking with her. when she started to laugh her body moved in motions around my cock. making me groan. every minute passing felt like hours.

when her friends left she pulled off of me to go dance or something.

before she could leave i grabbed her by the jaw

“we’re not fucking done with this” she smirked at me and walked off

  ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

[age-of-moonknight]

“Slasher,” Moon Knight (Vol. 7/2014), #1.

Writer: Warren Ellis; Penciler and Inker: Declan Shalvey; Colorist: Jordie Bellaire; Letterer: Chris Eliopoulos

[r0semultiverse]

[cloudysfluffs]

tickling your human host is SO unfair

(ns//fw and/or fetish blogs please dni🙏🙏)

[lloydfrontera]

javier realizing how much he cares for lloyd, how deep his loyalty to him runs, how ready he's to lie down his life for him, not because he's the son of his lord, not even really knowing exactly why he feels like that but just being absolutely certain that lloyd is his friend and he can't allow anything to harm him

And yet, why am I trying so hard to protect him? He had no way of knowing. But one thing was clear. It was a very simple matter. I want to protect him. Lloyd is my true master in my heart. Lloyd was his friend. And now, Javier wanted to protect Lloyd. He would sincerely protect him with everything he had.

he doesn't even know why!! he just knows that lloyd is his friend and his true master in his heart and that's!! more than enough for him to decide he's willing to put his life and everything he has in the line to protect him!! i'm just!!

[mamawasatesttube]

going to bed but thinking about kon and his suicidality as selflessness and how heroism and self-destruction share quite the overlap and how saving the world with his death was heroic but also the culmination of a pattern of passive suicidality he displayed since practically his first day alive. what does it mean when you're so eager and willing to help at any cost to yourself that you assume you will not see yourself grow up? "i don't care what happens to me" is a scary place to be, but "i don't care what happens to me, so long as i can save everyone" is noble and brave, right? so when does heroism become an act of self-destruction? when you truly believe in helping others, but you also think you'll die doing it one day and that isn't enough to stop you... where's the line?

[dream-of-the-bitchless]

This might've already been discussed in the fandom, but since I just jumped in, I need to know: what's the general consensus on the social media usage of The Corinthian?? Is he an IG hoe, or does he fly under the radar the whole time? Does he take pictures of Dream and post them or does he rather not? Does he act all smug around Lucienne because she can't stand social media? Does he have a secret Dream stan-account on Twitter?!?! I need to know!

[plan-3-tmars]

announcement to all red valley artists if you draw clive with a cane because of this new poster I will love you forever

(nsrs but if u see this and do it pls feel free to tag me)

[afniel]

Realizing that I went and wrote a bunch of intentionally aro relationships and my partner was like, "Idk, it seemed like normal relationships to me," and I was like, "I mean yeah it's not that different from ours, I guess, I was kind of going for 45° off from 'normal' romance," and they're like, "Okay, but ours is also pretty much like that," and I'm like, "Yeah, true," and now I'm like, damn hold up, are we both some kinda arospec and THIS is how we figure it out? Because I wrote a long-ass fic about intentionally queer-coded (among other things) robots? Life is weird, man.

Like I've been prone to extreme long-term crushes on a very few (mostly unattainable) people over the years, but I wouldn't have known what to do with them even if they worked out, and cough my ex was not even one of them. I just kind of assumed I was failing to feel a thing I was totally supposed to feel, there, and quite a lot of that relationship emotionally was me going, "Okay, I care like This, but I think I'm supposed to care like That? I'm pretty sure he cares That way. I'm not sure I do, but I mean, there's really only one way*, so maybe I'm just misreading this and actually I do care like That, I'm just bad at it."

*This was me being very incorrect, it turns out. There's all kinds of ways to love someone. It's a very inadequate and nonspecific word.

When I confessed my feelings (which I'd been sitting on for a year) to my partner, their reaction wasn't to be particularly romantic about it. In fact they told me they'd help me move to California if I wanted to. And after I got over my initial confusion of being kissed on the forehead (which is also not super romantic as a gesture and I couldn't decide how to even read that so I kinda skipped over even trying for a while), I was thinking, Awesome, that is a yes. They have promised to assist me with difficult stuff, and said nothing at all about emotions, because that's not a big deal anyway. The important thing is that I can rely on them and vice versa. Cool. We are basically together forever now. Which ended up being true. I just never moved out and now it's like 13 years later, go figure. But that's not what I think actually passes for reciprocating feelings for most people? Worked great for me though.

Anyway I feel like I have accidentally learned something about myself, lol. I guess romance is okay I guess, like it's not repulsive, but seriously, it's WAY more satisfying to me to guess someone else's Quiplash answer because you know they know you would think it's fucking funny, and you do, and because you think it's funny and you're well aware they know your type of humor and you know theirs and that you wouldn't expect them to use "cum" as an answer because that's not usually how they roll, so of course that is the only answer they can possibly give, which is instantly evident to both of you with no conversation whatsoever on the topic. When you got just one brain cell and it's quantum entangled with their just one brain cell so you have a lot of null discussions where nobody has to say anything but it's fully understood anyway, that's The Dream, if you ask me. And like I don't really think that's romantic by the usual definition. You can have that with friends and family, too. But that is what it turns out I prioritize in relationships, which I'm starting to feel like isn't what the majority of people are here for?

TFW it's hard to tell because I've been assuming I'm totally alloromantic so everything I experience must be typical totally alloromantic stuff too, but I'm starting to think it isn't maybe? But how do I even tell, this is like being colorblind, lmao.