#and the new masterpost to boot!

[hussyknee]

i'm so confused rn, can you explain the goncharov thing?? i get off tumblr for five minutes

(Edits closed as of 28 Nov.)

Lmaoooo

Nah I getchu. So this post has been circulating for like two years:

Link to post.

But yesterday, it had inspired someone to do this:

Link to post.

Next thing I knew there were fake Letterboxed reviews.

Goncharov moodboards. Really good ones.

Link to post.

Meta analysis. So many fake meta essays. Disturbingly good ones. And of course the memes. (Edit: HAVE I SAID THIS SHIT IS DISTURBING)

As you can see, the myth just started to grow, characters and ships and tropes being added one after the other, almost bizzarely without contradiction, until there was enough of shape to the whole thing for people to start posting fanfic about it on AO3. "No beta we die like ice-pick Joe" is already a tag.

Link to post.

It was hilarious in the beginning, but the way it's developed within less than a day, kind of like it's being willed into existence, is freaking me out a bit. We're toying with powers beyond our comprehension. 😂😂😂

Link to post.

Of course, there could be an ulterior motive as well.

Link to post (tags mine).

Edit: guys, please tag these posts "unreality" so people with disassociation issues can filter them out (not this one, this is an explainer). <3

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Edit 2: Aparently the boots in the original post are actually referring to a movie called Gomorrah that came out in 2008, directed by Mateo Garrone, based on the Scampia Feud. And other people had also been making posts about the fake movie for a while before the poster took off.

found by @thepotch

Edit 3: Explainer: why did those boots have this movie on them anyway?

Edit 4: Alt text added to all images courtesy of @valentineish ❤️

Edit 5: Turns out tumblr has done this kind of thing before. Nine years in this hell place and I had to have "Squiddles" and penis smp explained in the replies.

Edit 6: This post collects the Lore so far.

Edit 7: Lynda Carter (real one)/ earns more/ Tumblr cred.

Edit 8: Holy shit y'all we have the theme music. With sheet music. And it's on Spotify!

Edit 9: THERE IS A TRAILER WITH THE THEME MUSIC

----------------------------------------------

I made this post 18 hours after the movie poster went up. Closed edits 27 hours after first posting. So all of the above happened within 45 hours of the movie poster going up.

Edit 10: Google document live-compiling all the lore so far (Day 3)

Edit 11: Masterpost of Goncharov soundtracks (Day 3)

Edit 12: Entertainment news articles covering the Gonch-posting (real) (Contd from yday)

Edit 13: The music from the masterpost all compiled into a 31-minute original score with video edits on YouTube (edit: unfortunately taken down)

Edit 14: Staff's Goncharov art showcase for Tumblr Tuesday

As of closing on Day 3 there are 371 works in the AO3 tag.

-----

Updating with Day 3 shenanigans I missed yesterday:

Edit 15: Goncharov TV Tropes page

Edit 16: Ethics of Gonchposting

Important PSA 1 (how to reduce harm to Tumblr's neurodivergents)

Important PSA 2 (reality affirmation, anti-bullying)

Important PSA 3 (why you should stop trying to vandalise legit information sites)

Edit 17: Character lore from beezlebub whose poster they originated from

Edit 18: What we know about/ Director Matteo JWHJ0715 (#unreality)

Edit 19: Link to post with screenshotted and described NYT article (scroll down) and this golden exerpt from BuzzFeed: 💀

(alt text included)

End of Day 4 there are now 485 works in the Goncharov tag on AO3

----

Didn't get to update this on Day 5, so these are the Day 5 doings:

More trailers!

Trailer 1 (My favourite)

Trailer 2

Trailer 3

Trailer 4

I also just found out about the Goncharov Game Jam.

It appears this opened a day after after the meme took off.

Goncharov was first entered into Wikipedia between Day 4 and 5 (attempts to vandalise it with fake info don't count, incidentally – please knock that shit off) under List of Internet Phenomena. This was then expanded into its own Wikipedia page at the end of Day 5 because, according to the talk history: "the topic now meets the notability threshold for its own artice due to significant coverage in The New York Times and other sources cited." We're on Wikipedia, people!

And then we made The Guardian half a day later. So while the meme is definitely dying down to embers by now, it still stays winning.

YouTube channels with episodes on the meme:

InformOverlord (4:30)

Lessons in Meme Culture (2:43)

End of Day of 5 there were 511 works on AO3, and End of Day 6 (today) there are 556.

--

🚨BREAKING 🚨 from Martin Scorsese's daughter's TikTok (real actual)

tw: unreality:

We did it you guys!

Clarification: Francesca Scorcese asked her Dad about the meme and Martin played along. Please reblog this PSA to help Tumblr people with psychosis. Thanks.

Final edit: Day 8. Media reactions to Scorcese's TikTok (everyone from Forbes to Vulture). That one Tumblr user who said they'd do a screenplay if their post got notes has promised to shoot a single scene, but please don't be dicks just because you reblogged it; leave them alone until they get around to it themselves. As of end of Day 8 there are 609 works in the AO3 tag. I love all you lunatics. Peace! ❤️

[notjustjavierpena]

(Mid)summer Loving

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season. 

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare. 

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling. 

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him. 

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left. 

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same. 

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background. 

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you. 

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him. 

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now. 

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable. 

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?” 

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.” 

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him. 

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants. 

You. 

He wants you. 

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible? 

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social. 

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment. 

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know. 

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too. 

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again. 

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side. 

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt. 

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?” 

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in. 

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over. 

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high. 

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you. 

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound. 

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so. 

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?” 

“No?” Your reply is almost a question. 

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you. 

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time. 

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees. 

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation. 

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight. 

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[beansprean]

Familiar interviews continue...

My Familiar’s Ghost part 82

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Upholstered chair on a mottled brown background. Sitting on it is a tall thin white man with short blond hair and a goatee, wearing a light blue leopard print suit over a white vee neck with white heeled boots and a chunky pinkie ring. He is lounging confidently, legs crossed, one hand poised up in the air as he says smugly, 'I graduated top of my class at New York Familiar College.'

2a. Reverse shot, waist up of Nandor and Guillermo sitting on the couch opposite. Nandor brightens and replies, 'Really? That is very impressive...' Guillermo glares at the applicant suspiciously, arms crossed and finger tapping rapidly. 2b. Reverse shot of the man on the chair as a stream of water sprays in from offscreen and hits him in the cheek. It burns and steams where it hits his skin and the man shrieks, rocking back and pulling his legs up from the floor in shock. His disguise immediately poofs away to reveal none other than... Simon The Devious! 2c. Reverse shot, full body, of Nandor sitting at one end of the couch, clipboard in his lap, as Simon rushes past and out the door, hissing and smoking. Guillermo has leapt up from his seat and is posed with feet shoulder width apart, holding a spray bottle in both hands like a pistol and pointing it at Simon's retreating back. He shouts after him, 'Get out of here, Simon! You're not welcome!' Nandor shrinks back against the couch to stay out of the line of fire.

3. Back on the chair, now featuring Sean, who is hoisting himself out of it by the armrests with a confused expression. He mutters, 'I was just, uh... lookin' for the bathroom...'

4. Reverse shot waist up of Nandor and Guillermo on the couch. Guillermo is slumped in fatigue, eyes closed, briefly removing his glasses as he groans, 'You live next door, Sean...' Nandor cups his hand around his mouth and turns toward the hall, calling out, 'Laszlo! Come collect your friend, please!'

5. Close up of Guillermo's clipboard, which has a few handwritten pages clamped onto it. The top page is divided in half by a line of ink, the left side labeled 'Applicant' and the right side labeled 'Recommended by'. Every line has been crossed out in red ink. The list of prospective familiars includes: Clara Tran, John Merkt (recommended by Nancy the Relentless), Farrah Baker, Sarah Colleton-Hampstead (recommended by Pamela), Kayvan Novak (recommended by Nancy the Relentless), Sky Velasquez, Marshall Vu (recommended by Elvis), Devon Simmons II (recommended by ???) scribbled out more than the others, Katie Blum (recommended by Greg Blum), and Muhammad S- before the panel cuts off. From offscreen, Nandor calls out, 'Thank you for your time; we will be in touch. Please do not get eaten on the way out. Next!'

6. Back to the chair, this time with Sam the cat sitting in it and letting out a polite mew. From off screen, Guillermo says, 'Well, that's disappointing to hear, Sam.'

7. Reverse shot, full body of Nandor and Guillermo on the couch as Sam walks toward the door, tail held high. Nandor is slumped toward the center of the couch, head propped up on his hand and clipboard abandoned at his side. Guillermo, clipboard in hand, waves after Sam with an awkward smile and says, 'Good luck at your new position! And let us know if anything changes?' Sam meows in reply. /End ID

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 7 part 1/2

Masterpost

“I see,” said Alfie, hands full of breakfast dishes. “When can I expect you to return home, Miss Cassandra?” Calm. Composed. She followed at his back with the empty water and juice pitchers.

She hummed, doing math in her head. 90 minutes on a fast bike, unknown time there, 90 minutes back. “Dinner?” Cass guessed. “Will message again at 3 with updated estimate.” She put the pitchers down beside the sink silently.

Alfie gave a brisk nod at that sensible plan. Approval. “Very well, Miss. Please drive carefully.” He paused. “And do not forget hydration and your sunscreen.”

“Love you too,” she said, and went to put on the sunscreen. Then she was a whirlwind to get ready. Athletic undersuit, first. Pullover mask in the back, a long hood design that hooked back in on itself. Convenient! Gloves in black jeans pockets. Ankle boots, good for kicking and for driving. 

Cass put her flying suit in her student backpack and put her hands on her hips. She looked around. Room? Clean enough. Equipment? Packed. Reasonable projection of needs? Cass crinkled up her brow and made her best judgment. Probably minimal. Combat not expected, companion powerful. 

“Jacket,” Cass muttered to herself, sudden realization! She darted across the house to get it. The green jacket was important. It was a talisman. It was representative. It was a civilian flying suit that reminded her she was powerful and beautiful. 

When she had it on, she went back for her student back bag and then left from the upper level garage. Black bike, nondescript. Mid range price. 

Cass paused astride the bike, feet firmly planted on either side on the crunchy white gravel of their long driveway. She unzipped the front left pocket and withdrew her phone. To Marvel, she said,

🦇 🏍️ ⬆️ == 1.5 h ⌚ 

Then she opened a new message to Batdad. She didn’t want him to worry. So she said,

💕 👋🏼  🏍️ 

The last person to get a message was Stephanie, who was not flying because she was still in medical schooling. Cass sent,

Just because it was funny. It would make Stephanie laugh.

Then she was off.

Cass pulled her black bat hood down when she found the right area. It was day. Many stares that she loftily ignored. The meeting spot wasn’t Gotham or Fawcett. The laughing magician was in dingy small town, smoking and drinking. Captain Marvel found him first and hauled him out, friendly arm over shoulder. Cass crouched on the roof of nextdoor building to silently peer down, batting a little for the comfort factor of bat things. He was still big-man Marvel-lie, but with new clothes. Happy face with torn jeans and t-shirt. She squinted. Same Marvel shoes. Hmm. No budget, Cass decided. If any budget, better shoes.

Constantine blinked up at Captain Marvel, dazed from alcohol but interested in big handsome man. “Where are you taking me, prettyboy?” He slurred. He was a mess. He reached up and cupped Marvel’s face.

Cass moved. 

Constantine noticed her rapid approach and stumbled upright. Eyes sharp, intelligent. Then: dismay. “Fuck,” he said. Very unhappy. Genuine dislike. “A bat. Which one are you?” Disdain. 

Cass frowned. “Hands off,” she demanded. She crossed her arms. “He’s baby.”

“What?” Marvel said, sounding distressed. Ah. He didn’t know that she knew.

“Really?” Constantine said, wrinkling his face up and looking between her and Marvel pointedly. Because he was a foolish little man who didn’t understand facts that walked into his life. “A nightmare like you pulled this bloke? Fuck my life.”

Yes. A nightmare. Your nightmare.

Cass stretched her mask mouth wider so the teeth would stretch and pull even bigger. She leered at him with all her scariness. He looked like he wished she would leave. Wondered if he made good decision. Regret. Regret. I run my big damn mouth.

“Hey!” Marvel rallied, totally missing the body language interplay. “She’s not a nightmare! Black Bat is very kind and smart.” He put his hands on his hips, which happily meant he had to stop supporting middle-aged wizard weight.

Constantine said some curses under his voice that she didn’t know. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. The rattling from inside told Cass: three cigarettes. No metal, no secret hidden weapon unless it closely resembled cigarette shape. Maintain wariness. He lit it on fire with his fingers.

What? No lighter? Cass saw no lighter.

While Cass was busy frowning about that the wizard turned on his heel. “Toodles,” he said, and then Marvel grabbed him. 

“Wait! We need your professional help.”

“Do I look like I’m working?” Grungy wizard demanded. He waved a hand up and down his body, showing off his sleeveless tank top and tight pants. 

“Yes.” Black Bat took a couple steps closer. She knew this. “You were working. You’re not so intoxicated. You were running a scam for funding. You need money?” She kept anything out of her tone that could sound like judgment, leaving it cold and empty. No-nonsense. “I pay for consultation.”

Grungy wizard paused, looking her up and down. He took a drag on his cigarette. Stinky wizard. He blew it out at Marvel, RUDE wizard. “Really?” He was dubious. “Where’s the catch?” Stinky wizard scrunkled his face at her. “Usually it’s all ‘you owe it to the world, it’s for the good of humanity, don’t you have any decency?” with you people.

Cass rolled her eyes. “Can we cut the-” her eyes darted to Marvel. “Bullshit?” she finished, because it was the right word even if there were little ears present. “One thousand dollars American.”

Captain Marvel looked at her, eyes wide. Shocked. Envy. Small.

Oh. She hid her sudden bad feeling. 

“...Make it one and a half thousand, Bird, that’s a love,” oozed the Stinky Wizardman. He didn’t expect, but-

“Fine.” Cass said briskly. She didn’t want to spend a lot of time on money. She pulled out her wallet and withdrew one hundred dollar bills until she had 15. The Wizard cursed jealousy and ran a hand through his hair. Marvel was fascinated. Hmm. She held it out.

The wizard wanted it. He looked. He really wanted it. But: wary. No trust. Can’t trust a bat.

She let out a disgusted sigh. Black Bat shook the bills at him impatiently. “My Black Bat fund,” she said, in a tone that meant ‘do you have a brain that thinks thoughts?’ She continued, “For my use in-suit. Obviously real money. Obviously non-consecutive legal tender.” Duh.

“Okie Dokie!” Marvel said cheerfully. “We’re back on track.”

The wizard snatched it and stuffed it in his back pocket, hungry dog, don’t take it from me, I need it. “Let’s not talk here. I have a hotel room.” 

‘Did the stinkyman invite Marvel-baby to his hotel?’

Cass cut the wizard a death look.

He coughed and avoided looking at her. 

That was a yes. “You’re a bad judge of people,” she told the wizard, voice full of disdain. “Yes. Let’s go.” She pointedly moved in between him and Marvel-baby. 

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Never a Dull Moment (Part 15)

Prev | Masterpost | Next

Well for all the meeting with the JL had sort of been shit, it had brought Jason back to the attention of the hero community. He was rebuilding, or building bonds with his adoptive brothers and, while he still wasn’t really a hero, he was far from joining the legion of doom. He wanted to help the heroes when he could, especially if they’d pay him, or return the favour later, or were family. But if he was going to be working with the heroes, and the bats again, there was one more person he really needed to make up with, and one more he needed to meet.

Steph hadn’t been part of the bats before he died, neither had Tim, so he had never met her, and Barb… he’d heard about what had happened to her. The Joker had shot her, paralyzed her from the waist down and officially, and permanently benched Batgirl. Apparently Huntress had tried to take the mantle for a while, but it didn’t suit her style. Jason wasn’t sure how he would handle seeing someone else so badly hurt by the Joker.

It helped that the Joker was dead now of course, but that wasn’t really the part of it he was worried about. She had found a new place for herself, carved out a space as Oracle, the bat’s ‘guy-in-the-chair’, she had adjusted to such a devastating change and she was… okay. He had died, yes, but he had been brought back, but he was unquestionably worse. Seeing her was going to make him so ashamed of himself. Through no fault of her own she was the standard Bats hurt by the joker were held to, and he had failed it spectacularly. 

Not that the others hadn’t been hurt by the Joker. Tim had told Jason about his time as Joker Junior in confidence and it sounded fucking awful, and Tim was permanently affected by it. He said he couldn’t remember many details but he knew he didn’t experience emotions the same way he had before, and he was still prone to bouts of mania. Jason could sympathize with that, he understood, and he certainly understood what it was like to fear insanity, what one could become if they finally fell off the knife edge they were tottering on. Both he and Danny were intimately familiar with that feeling, and they could all support each other through it. 

Once he had met ‘O’ maybe he would find out ways that she wasn’t as well adjusted as she seemed from the outside but right now? Jason found her tremendously intimidating. So sue him that he had been putting off meeting her in person again, in spite of Dickie’s gentle nagging to incorporate himself more with the Gotham vigilantes. 

“Really Jay, she’d be happy to meet you and it would make it so much easier to coordinate with you and help you if you need it.” Dick insisted as he followed from the living room to the kitchen, without seeming to register it.

“I’m already on the coms. I hacked them ages ago and she hasn’t booted me off, we can coordinate. It’s not like I ever ask you guys for help anyway,” Jason grumbled. “Why do you want me to meet your ex so badly?!” He snapped as he put the kitchen island between himself and Dick to enforce some space, then winced a little. He really needed to stop lashing out when he was feeling a bit defencive, thankfully these things seemed to just bounce off of Dick. Though the jury was out on if he knew Jason didn’t mean it or if they just went over his head. 

“Ya, but it’s her channels you’re hacking and honestly she’s starting to get pretty upset about you not engaging with her!” Dick said, talking with his hands to the extent Danny subtly rescued his glass of pop before it could get spilled or accidentally flung at the wall. “Doesn’t matter that she’s my ex, she's one of us and she’s good! You’re getting back involved with our family, you should get back in touch with her!”

Danny put the glass down on the counter and casually blocked Dick’s way before he could follow Jason around the counter, leaning against. He was doing that thing he did where he practically faded into the background without going fully invisible. Not interrupting the conversation while still keeping an eye on Jason, which he appreciated because he did not want to lose it on his well meaning (if pushy) brother. 

“I’m not fucking one of you! I’m not a hero!” Jason growled at Dick, feeling Danny gently rest a hand on his arm reminding him to take a deep breath. 

“But you’re still part of the family, Littlewing,” Dick pleaded, looking a little hurt and terribly hopeful. “Please?”

Jason felt that like a punch in the gut, and really he knew Dick was right and he should meet the two of them. He groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine, she’s always on the coms right? Next time I’ll just apologize for hacking them and have a chat.” 

“Actually Bruce will be off-world next week so we’re all having a family lunch at the manor, you should come!” Dick enthused.

“I haven’t-”

“Yes you have, I know you’ve sneaked in to visit Alfred! Not that I blame you of course. He’d love to have you there,” Dick interrupted, giving Jason his best puppy dog eyes.

Shit, bringing up Alfred was just cheating, those puppy dog eyes didn’t usually work on him but Jason could feel himself softening. His shoulders slowly drooping before he heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine, yes, we’ll come,” He grumbled.

“We’ll?” Dick asked looking confused, before Danny slipped out of his half visible state and pressed against Jason’s side smiling at Dick. 

“We’re looking forward to it,” Danny said, smiling at Dick. He hadn’t technically been invited, but surely they couldn’t expect Jason to go without his partner. 

“Oh, ah, right,” Dick said shifting awkwardly. He looked like he might want to suggest Jason's first family lunch since getting back should be with family only, but Danny put on his best innocently excited look and Dick couldn’t bring himself to say no. He stifled a sigh and put his smile back on. “Great! I’m sure Alfred will be happy to have both of you.”

“Great. Now that you’ve gotten your way will you both get out of my kitchen so I can cook?!” Jason insisted, still only half regretting inviting Dick over for dinner tonight.

---------

Jason knew better than to bring anything to the family dinner. Alfred liked to do all of the cooking for these things, he considered coming early to help him with the cooking he wanted to do. But honestly he didn’t think that he could handle any more time with the family then was absolutely needed. Just going back to the manor, not just sneaking into the kitchen to have tea with Alfred, was going to be hard enough. 

Danny wasn’t anywhere near as nervous as Jason was, he was sort of excited to meet them and to get a tour of the home Jason had spent such formative years in. Jason caught the mischievous look in Danny’s eyes when he talked about getting a tour and Jason was pretty sure that Bruce was going to come back to find that something expensive or potentially sentimental had been mysteriously broken. Jason didn’t mention it, he didn’t blame Danny for the urge and didn’t want to know anything about it. He just wanted to show up for dinner, stay for an hour or two to make nice, and then get drunk.

“Jason? We’re going to be late,” Danny said softly, leaning against the back of the couch where Jason was sitting. He didn’t say it with any urgency, he wasn’t rushing Jason. It was a gentle reminder, if Jason wanted to be late Danny would support it, if Jason wanted to cancel and not go at all Danny would curl up on the couch with him and not bring up the dinner again  unless Jason did. Even if he did want to go.

“You’re right, we should get going,” Jason agreed and stood up. “How do I look?” He asked, he was wearing untorn jeans and a short sleeved shirt with a collar, almost a polo.

Danny gave him a considerate look, “Downright preppy,” He chuckled, leaning forward to giving Jason a gentle kiss. He was wearing a sort of silky black button down and tight jeans, also nice, but more his style. 

Jason laughed softly into the kiss and gripped Danny’s hips, pulling him closer and prolonging the kiss as Danny let out a little sound of pleasure. Maybe they should be late after all…

Danny broke the kiss and stepped away. “You look good Jason, you’ll make a good impression on them. And no matter what happens you’ll still have me. If you want to cut them all off again and go back to the way things were, you’ll still have me. No matter what.” Danny promised Jason, holding his hand and guiding him towards the door. 

“I’m not going to isolate us again Danny. And you shouldn’t let me even if I try,” Jason told Danny, trying to keep his tone light to undercut how much he meant it. “And if I do feel free to stage an intervention.”

Danny laughed and gave Jason a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and didn’t respond. Well that was clearly a topic they were going to have to talk about more later, but apparently now was not the time because Danny tugged Jason more forcefully out of the door. Jason took over leading the way down and tugged Danny onto the back of his bike before taking off toward the manor. 

The gate opened as they pulled up which meant someone must have been watching for them, Jason barely had to slow down to duck through the half open gate. He skidded to a stop at the end of the long driveway that separated the Wayne’s from the rest of Gotham. He hadn’t noticed anyone hanging around the gate but he wondered if anyone would notice the two new people driving into the estate, and if there would be any speculation about who they were. He hoped not, unless it would give Bruce a headache, then maybe he could put up with it.

Danny hopped off the back of his bike and took off his helmet, fussing and fluffing up his flattened hair as he looked around them with a grin. Jason flipped down the kickstand and got up as well, taking off his helmet and shrugging off his jacket. Quickly Dick came bursting out of the door and leaping down the front steps to hug Jason, who quickly redirected Dick at Danny who laughed and hugged Dick tightly, lifting him off the ground and making him squeak. 

Jason grinned and looked up, freezing for just a moment when he saw Alfred, standing in the open doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, watching them with a barely there smile. Jason left the other two as Danny put Dick down again laughing at his expression, and Jason went up the stairs ahead of them. 

“It’s good to see you again Master Jason,” Alfred murmured to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. His accent and the warmth in his eyes always felt like home, Jason’s shoulder unknotted a little. “I know the manor doesn’t feel like home for you, but you’re still always welcome here.”

“I know Alfred,” Jason said softly. And he did, even Bruce wouldn’t turn him out, though he would ask for certain concessions. Any time Jason wanted to give up and come home, he could, too bad he’d always been too proud and too driven to give up. He’d blow everything up first, a trait he wasn’t exactly proud of. 

“As long as you know. Come on in, you and your partner,” He said, nodding behind Jason and when he glanced back Danny was there and he nudged gently against Jason’s shoulder. Jason took the hint and wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulders.

“Alfred, this is my boyfriend Danny. Danny, this is the family butler, and pseudo grandfather, Alfred.” Jason introduced them and Danny smiled brightly, holding out his hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you!” Danny said as Alfred shook his hand. “Jason has told me so much about you, I’m so glad to finally meet you.” 

“And I you young man, it is delightful to meet anyone who has brought so much joy to my grandchildren’s lives,” Alfred said warmly before ushering them all inside and to the dining room to get them all drinks. 

“It’s good to finally meet you!” A blond girl popped out of nowhere making Jason jump. 

“Fu-”

“Language Master Jason!” Alfred cut in.

“Sorry Alfred, she just startled me,” Jason told him before looking back at the blond. “So you must be Steph eh? Kinda funny how the people who date into this fucked up family never escape even long after the breakup,” He chuckled as he offered her his hand, which she grabbed with both of hers and shook vigorously. 

“Hey I could totally leave if I want to, I didn’t become Spoiler because of him! I like being a vigilante!” She insisted before letting go and moving on to shake Danny’s hand. “Behold! Your future,” She joked and he cackled. 

“Jason and I aren’t planning to break up any time soon,” he joked back. “And I was a cape long before I met him, more of a cape then I am now actually,” He said, clicking his tongue and snuggling back against Jason’s side when she let go. 

“Oh ya? How’d you get into it,” Steph asked curiously. 

“Oh it was after I got my powers at 14,” Danny started to explain. A story Jason had heard before, and he had a feeling Steph already knew as well but wanted to hear directly from the source. 

Jason looked up and around the room, sort of tuning out their conversation since he already had an idea how it would go. He spotted Barbra quickly, she had pulled her wheelchair at the table, she had her elbows propped on the arms and her hands folded, staring at him over steepled fingers. Well, time to face the music. He kissed the top of Danny’s head and slipped away, walking around the table and sitting down next to her. 

“Hey Barbie,” He said a little awkwardly, she gave him a look that made him wince. “Sorry Barbra,” He murmured, wondering how she perfected Alfred’s disappointed look more than any of the kids who actually grew up with him.

“Barb is fine,” She said, spinning her chair to face him a little more. 

“Right, it’s- um, it’s good to see you again?” He said it like a question. 

“Really?” She asked, raising her eyebrows and leaning back in her chair. “And here I thought you’d been avoiding me.”

“Ya, I’m sorry. I don’t really have any excuse,” He admitted, looking away from her. 

“Do you have a reason?” She asked, raising one eyebrow. 

“Well, ya, but I don’t know if it’s a good one,” He told her.

“Tell it to me anyway.”

“I couldn’t face someone else The Joker hurt so bad. I didn’t know about Timmer’s Joker Jr incident when I reached out to him,” Jason sighed, unable to look at her. 

“What? Am I everything you don’t want to be?” She asked dryly and he shook his head. 

“No, you’re what I should have been if I was stronger,” He admitted with a sigh. “I’m sure you had a ton of shit to work through, but you moved forward and found a new role for yourself, stayed a part of the family and didn’t distance yourself. You’re not stuck in the past, obsessed with revenge and so fucking angry and scared,” Jason grumbled. 

“So I make you feel inadequate?” She asked with an amused note to her voice. 

“Ya I guess so,” Jason said with a bitter little snort of a laugh.

“I guess I can understand that,” Barb sighed with a little shrug. “You shouldn't compare yourself to others like that though you know. It's not healthy, you're on your own ‘healing journey’.” At least she put finger-quotes around the phrase. None of the bats took particularly well to therapy talk though she must have had a decent amount of it after her injury. Commissioner Gordon wouldn't have let her go without.

“Gee thanks,” Jason said,  rolling his eyes. “But also, kinda ya. I'm trying to be better you know? That's why I'm here, I'm trying to do better you know? I appreciate that you haven't kicked me off the coms, but I'd like to be on them in a more official way now. Me and Danny, we care about Gotham too, we should work with her other protectors a bit more.”

“Remember you're not supposed to talk about work at dinner, did you already forget that rule?” She teased him with a little smile, at least she didn't seem mad anymore. “But I agree, I'll officially add you to our contacts for Arkham breakouts and stuff.

“Now I think Steph is about to give your boyfriend a tour of the manor, do you want to go with them?” Barb asked, gesturing over at Danny, who was indeed being dragged out of the room while laughing.

“Nah, it seems like they're getting along well and I already know my way around here if I need to,” he said with a shrug. “Unless you're trying to get a break from me, then I'll go.”

“No, honestly I'd rather not be left alone with Dick,” she joked making Jason laugh properly and relax at least a little. He relaxed properly when Alfred brought out drinks and appetizers. Soon he was teasing Dick along with Barb, and getting disapproving looks for talking with his mouth full.

Just as food was brought to the table Steph and Danny returned, Jason could tell from how smug Danny looked that something was in the house was broken, Steph seemed blissfully ignorant. Danny slid into the open seat next to Jason. Jason gave him a questioning look, Danny winked and Jason rolled his eyes, he'd find out more about whatever it was Danny had broken later. Tim joined them at the last minute as well, apologizing for losing track of time in his lab. 

The foods was wonderful, Alfred's cooking always tasted like home, and he was the reason Jason showed his love by feeding people. Everything Alfred made was made with love and soon everyone was chatting between bites. Danny and Tim were talking about his lab, which hadn't been part of the tour so Tim was going to show Danny after dinner. Barb and Jason had started talking about books and Dick kept butting in with irrelevant details because he wasn't very academic but he wanted to be part of the conversation. Steph got him off their back by starting to tease him for being a cop and pestering him for stories.

Things were going really well, until everyone's phones went off, with the special ring tones. Everyone reached for their phones. 

“No phones at the tab-” Alfred started automatically before he realized the implications of all of them getting a call. He closed his mouth with a very soft click, Jason didn't have a JL phone, but even he had gotten a text from Wonder Woman so he checked it to. 

There is a disturbance, we will likely need assistance from you and Hyena. We are waiting for word from Constantine.

“Well shit. Sorry dinner’s gotta end early Alfred, it looks like it's all hands on deck. At least we're all here so Danny and I can just Zeta in with all of you.” Jason sighed and pushed back from the table. 

“I don't have my suit,” Danny exclaimed, startled, “I didn't think I'd need it!”

“How quickly can you get it?” Dick asked, clearly worried.

“Give me ten minutes, is there anything you want me to get for you as well?” Jason nodded and told Danny some specific weapons Danny had built for him.  Danny nodded before transforming and speeding out through the wall leaving shocked silence in his wake.

“So that's what his other form looks like? Pretty cool!” Dick exclaimed finally. “Anyway, we should get ready too. Let's head down to the cave and see what info they've already sent through. 

[andersonfilms]

ray, your writing is so amazing 🤍

lowkey, i need a “i love you x i loved you” angst with abby and reader ‼️😔👀

❝ BET YOU WANNA LOVE ME NOW ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

tags: eighteen+,wc 2k, heavy angst, tw panic attack.

a/n: more than happy to fulfill this request for you, em. thank you for helping me even further bringing it to life. i love when our brains mesh. it's a beautiful and lovely thing. ily, mwah mwah ♡

daily click | palestine masterpost

Three months, shot after shot, week after week, you call. The dial tone you’re met with again. The hint is there for you to take but you steer clear from it, hoping to wipe out instead. She never blocks you, a glimmer of hope you call it. It’s the only sliver of silver lining you hold onto. Your friends take away your phone after the fourth call, trying to protect you from the inevitable hurt. 

You’ve hit rock bottom, the tequila burning through the remnants left of your senses. Stumbling in your boots before you find an edge of a curb to nestle on, the now empty body of the tequila bottle you’d emptied kisses the concrete. 

Everything reminds you of her. The soft laugh she would sing after a silly joke, the way she would hold you at night when you cried, singing her favorite song of the week when the two of you would get ready in the morning together. Just like tonight, Abby would be the one to hold you, dance with you, twirl you around the dance floor and now some other girl tries and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

It’s a traitorous reminder someone else can and maybe, tragically, there’s another already filling your shoes with her. It’s the rude awakening you were in for, but you need it. You stop calling. Woefully, you let Dina and Ellie take you home, making sure you shower, hydrate, and slip into some clean clothes until sleep overtakes you. 

You throw yourself into work, it makes things easier. The only time you think of her is at night. When you’re entirely too lonely, somber floods your soul with the emptiness of your home. The absence of her presence rips you to pieces but it’s better than drunk dialing her into an abyss. 

Though she’s never said anything since, she’s probably glad you’ve stopped calling, the sobbing voicemails with soft cries of her name — would be too much for anyone to stomach yet you’ve subjected her to it. 

Cruelty. What you know best, right? 

You try not to think of it, leave it behind. Out of sight out of mind or something like that? Three more months go by and you’re on your first date. It’s going well enough, the conversation is good. She’s beautiful. Her brown eyes remind you of the honey you drip into your tea, soft caramel skin, the freckles dotting her face, and her smile? It grabs a hold of you. 

Maybe this could be good. This could be something. 

The way she tosses her hair, offers you to try a bite of her omelet, she asks questions about yourself and appears like she wants to know you. You’re enjoying yourself for the first time. The promise of your aching heart healing and the hope of something new makes you elated. Starting to believe it for just a moment, but then it comes crashing down on you like a tsunami wave. 

It’s far from town, tucked in the outskirts of town, you’d suspected to not see anyone here but you see her. She’s sitting outside on the patio, just like you, she’s working. The laptop in front of Abby has her full attention. Her veiny hands run through her golden hair for a moment before she’s taking a sip of her coffee, you presume it to be black. No sugar or cream, the one she normally takes the steamy beverage. As if she knows you’re watching, she slips the suit jacket off, left with only a white button up paired with a gray vest to match her slacks. She pushes her glass up as it glides over the bump in her nose. 

Abby looks like she gets a full night of rest at night. No dark circles are to be found as she’s put together like always. You try to focus on your date. Replies fall from your lips when necessary, you engage, compliment, smile insincerely, but more than anything you feel the bile swarming up your throat. It leaves with no other option than to choke. 

Baby blues shine at the waitress as she comes to check up on her — her smile gleaming with joy, the final knife to your throat reels you into turmoil. It slices you open in the middle of night, now you feel the trickles of blood leaking out from your heart. The wound is out of reach and only one healer can be found. How pitiful the one who can save you would rather never touch you again? 

Painfully, it’s almost as if she feels your distress. She finds you staring, jaw clenched as you look past the woman seated in front of you. An aching chest burns for her, the perplexed quirk of eyebrows and the slight tilt of her head tells you she’s just now seeing you. Meanwhile, for the past hour you’d been practically sweating. Not that the beam of sun left you much of an option. 

“Are you alright, love?” Her accent cuts through like knives, it feels loud. Too much? Too little? You’re not sure what but it’s simply not her. 

“M’good, promise. Let me just freshen up, yeah?” You need to breathe because it feels like you can’t. The weight on your chest feels unbearable as you attempt to catch your breath. Practically making a dash for the bathroom. 

You’re thankful for the singular bathroom as you lay against the cool, tiled wall. Your fingertips reach for the groves, in an attempt to calm yourself before a full meltdown overtakes. Just a flash of her blues sends you into your own, your mind latching onto every kiss, every moment of comfort, the hours you spent buried between her thighs. 

It reminds you of the feeling you’ll never find again. They’ll never be anyone like her again and it all was fucked up to the heavens to reap on, because you couldn’t have a little bit of faith. 

There’s a soft knock on the door, it leaves you reckless. It can’t be her? 

“I-, uh, occupied?” You muster, as you clutch onto the chain resting on your collarbones. “Hey, it’s me.” 

Your heart falls into your stomach, beat erratic at her voice. She’s speaking to you, just you. The familiarity of her soothes you more than expected. “Are you alright? You just ran off, and I just, I know how you get.” 

But you’re quiet, silent tears fall down the apple of your cheeks cascading further as they slip off your jaw. The blossoming feeling of her floods through like a never ending crashing wave. You’ve tried so hard not to venture into it, but she’s here. All it takes is one look in your eyes, she knows something is wrong. How do you move on from that? How can anyone? 

It’s a question you ask yourself, daily, but having it right in front of you is more unimaginably difficult to face. 

“Can I come in?” Abby asks and you let out a gentle okay. 

She’s here, in all her six foot glory, but the look in her eyes tells a different story. Distant, walled — just like when you had met her. Old habits die hard and all the two of you did was revert. She slowly walks towards you, until she’s in front of you, holding her arms behind her back. 

“How bad is it?” Abby inquires. 

“S-seven.” 

“Sit down, alright?” Gently, she offers her hand making you sit as you hiccup, your hyperventilating. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she runs it under cool water before placing it against your neck, and then gently on your forehead. 

Abby wipes away your tears, whispering sweet words to comfort you. It’s been her specialty. No one could calm you down like her. There’s a center to her, pulling your wreckage into her tranquil sense of being. You wonder how long it took for her to have it again, she broke for you when you couldn’t even bend. 

She gave you everything yet you couldn’t give her an ounce of what she wanted. Yet, her innocent hands clean off your hands, as if it isn’t her own blood she’s ridding you of. 

“You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m fine.” 

“I know. I certainly don’t have to anymore. Do I? You’ve made that clear.” There’s a bite to her tone, but she still helps you. “Stop complaining and grip onto my hand.” 

You pause before obeying her command. Making sure not to intertwine, only holding and she applies tight pressure with the contact. 

“You’re clearly not fine.” Abby bitterly laughs. “I see nothing has changed.” She whispers so quietly to herself you almost don’t catch it. 

Her eyes catch your own and it feels the same as it did before. The words you could never tell her, the reason she left — they crave to come tumbling out. You focus on her strong hands, the veins popping out, how well fitted the vest is on her chest. She’s holding off on full compression, only if you need it. 

“What?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t, not when you’re like this.” 

“Just say it.” You spat. 

“You’re still afraid of me, of us, not that there is much left to be afraid of.” Abby sighs, biting her lip. Cursing at the gods above for making her fall for someone like you. You couldn’t give her what she needed and she moved on. 

They couldn’t even try for you, Abby reminds herself. 

“It’s okay. I just expected more from you when I shouldn’t have.” There’s no malice when she speaks, only laced with regret. Abby’s words wake turmoil within your heart, pulling at a thread until you’ve come undone. Then there’s her touch, the compression in your hand, the coolness of the handkerchief, it centers you. It’s chaotic, reckless and everything in between. 

It’s always been you. Not centered enough to hold her down or yourself, to anything. 

“I-I wanted to give more I just—” You try to explain, but they die. Just as they always have. 

“You can’t.” The minutes spent in silence the two of you looking in each other’s eyes as Abby allows herself to cling onto you. For just a moment, in the women’s singular bathroom, she allows herself to get some type of remembrance. 

She’s calm as she wipes away your tears, your breathing evening out, the grip on her hands loosens. The two of you lost in a moment, unresolved feelings come up bubbling. Abby lets you cradle her face in your pressing grip, it feels like acid on her skin but a familiar warmth floods in her heart. 

Unexpectedly, you’re leaning into her in the evanescence of her care. The possibility of finality leaves you clinging onto straws. Abby thinks you did, but part of her, maybe leans in a little bit too. Is it pity? Closure? A craving? 

Your lips gently mold to hers, she tastes the salty tears left on your lips and the raspberry balm you must have put on. It’s everything to you yet she’s not sure what it means. You’re trying to cling onto her, yet she pulls away far too quickly for your liking. 

“Please, don’t do this.” Abby picks herself off the floor. “You should go back to your date.” 

“But I—” The words die, again. 

“What? You can’t fucking tell me and you’ve never been able to. I deserve better than this, better than you.” 

“You’re selfish, god, why’d you kiss me?” 

“Because I wanted to?” 

“Yeah, exactly. Because you want to. Have you ever thought about what I want?” Abby pushes, shaking her head, seriously inquiring you to think about someone else besides yourself. “Did you think about me when you were drunk calling me every weekend, pleading to get back together while I was at home crying every night? Do you think hearing you heartbroken made me feel good?” 

Aggravatedly, she huffs. “That’s the problem. You always think of yourself and I’m just collateral damage. Couldn’t bother to give me what I wanted when we both knew you felt it. Just like keeping me in the dark for fun, huh?” 

Abby adjusts her tie, reaching for the door as she hears you. She does a double-take, not believing what she’s heard. Now? 

“What did you just say?” 

“I love you, Abby. Please.” Don’t go. 

She smirks manically, it’s too bittersweet. You couldn’t be bothered to give her what she craved but now one taste from her lips sends you into overdrive? 

Fuck you, is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“And I loved you.” Abby tuts, her jaw clenches, hands tightly clenching against the other, knuckles blown white in her misery. “I’ll still care about you. I always will but I could never love you. Not when I was pleading for something and you could only offer me nothing in return.” 

“Abs—” 

“No.” You’re shocked by her dismissal of you. “I never deserved this. I want someone who will love me and not be afraid of it. Who won’t treat me like shit when I’m begging for a lifeline. Hopefully, you can give that to the next one but it just won’t be me.” She leaves swiftly. All you're left with is the scent of mahogany and her handkerchief. 

thanks for reading! mwah!

[writers-potion]

Fight Scenes Involving Disabled Characters

This was inspired by a comment on one of my eariler posts by @rubyjewelqueen!

Level of Fighting Involved

Depending on the condition your character has, you'll want to adjust how physically strenuous the fight scenes are going to be. This can be done by:

Giving your disabled character a partner who'll take the worst of the fighting while the disabled character does what they can.

Giving them a partner/team they can call if they're in danger, which means they'll just have to hold on until backup comes.

Using the geographic location to limit the kind of attacks the opponent can launch.

Providing your disabled character with cool weapons (if you're writing sci-fi or fantasy, magical weapons are also an option)

Think about your character's capabilities:

Loss or Deformity of Limbs can be overcome by targeted physical training to make most of existing body parts, plus synthetic limbs if that's an option.

Muscular Dystrophy allows low-intensity exercises like walking and swimming. Your character might need breathing assistance as respiratory muscles weaken which means they won't be doing much sprinting. Braces/mobility aids needed.

Neuro Musculo Disability where there are no physical deformities but an inability to to perform controlled movements can plausibly be overcome with physical training and inventing new ways to grip and swing weapons meant for able people.

Conditions that affect one's energy and strength like CFS/POTS will be able to defend themselves quite well, but probably only for like 3-5 minutes before they need to recover for days. A rush of adrenaline and extreme anxiety will help them fight quite intensely, but you'll have to consider how much training they can get with their condition. Martial art skills that need hours of practice may be out of reach for them.

Weapons

The possibilities here are endless. Feel free to invent, or use everyday items as weapons. Just to list some common ones:

Canes, hiking poles, blades hidden in boots & at the end of walking sticks, hooked canes, T-bar cane, crutches

Self-defense items like pepper spray, stun guns, personal alarms

Daggers and light blades rather than swords, chakras they can throw around

Prosthetic can be used as weapons in dire circumstances. Your character may regret it afterwards.

handguns.

Adaptive Martial Arts

With more than 180 types and martial arts styles practiced worldwide, it’s nearly impossible to define a blanket answer to inclusion. But adaptive martial arts aim to help disabled people build physical strength.

Have a martial arts guru who is disabled themselves, and teach your hero how to fight.

Pick the martial arts that doesn't emphasize a particular skill your character doesn't have. For example, karate/kickboxing/ taekwondo emphasizes kicking which won't be possible for someone on a wheelchair. Might be better to avoid ones that involve lots of grappling. Jujitsu seems quite adaptable.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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[icarustypicalfall]

December

Alejandro Vargas x reader

masterpost • Ao3

Summary: And only when you feel like there is nothing left, you'll find me waiting for you, I'll make it feel like home.

Or

Where Alejandro comes home, because home is you.

Warnings: SFW, bath scene, sweet fluff <3

Note: I die for the unsexual ways of showing intimacy. I tried a new style, not really sure of it, but i just love this trope; where A washes B's hair and takes care of them in a non sexual way, and they are both comfortable and happy :( <3

“Be still my foolish heart

Don't ruin this on me”

The journey from the base to home was long, uncomfortable, and, above all, tiring. Alejandro shifted, letting out a deep sigh as he rubbed his eyes, careful not to touch the still numb cut on his forehead.

The medics had urged him to get his wounds stitched up, or at the very least, checked. But he dismissed it as pointless, with only one thing on his mind: coming home to you.

As soon as the debriefing ended, he hopped into the nearest car, beckoning Rudy and some other vaqueros to join him. A younger member, barely awake, asked, "Where are we going, colonel?" Alejandro gazed at the purple sky with a knowing smile and replied, "Home."

Home.

Alejandro was the colonel, but that didn't mean he didn't care. If anything, he was the exact opposite. He checked on every member, praising some and ordering others to go straight to their family houses to rest. Los Vaqueros were his family, he celebrated their joy and grieved their sorrow as his own.

Even in his most exhausted moments, Alejandro never forgot about his long-time friend and second in command, Rudy. He made sure Rudy reached his family, sain et sauf after every mission, as he had done for the past twenty years.

Alejandro sighed, stopping at the side of the road to check his phone after the last vaquero had left. The background was a selfie of you and him, licking ice cream under the moonlit sky.

You never understood why he liked this picture so deerly, he's been gazing at it for the last two years, whenever he was away from you. As if your sweet smile comforted him and buried his dark thoughts somewhere only you knew.

If anything, it was a sweet picture, tongues out, wide grins, your hair sticking to your foreheads, a proof of the swimming session you two had beforehand.

He remembered it perfectly—the day you got married. Instead of going home, he insisted on going to the beach to have your own celebration. It was surprisingly warm and deserted. Time didn't matter to you—three in the morning. You danced, swirled, and swam in the dark water with your dress on.

To hell with makeup and his suit.

All you wanted was a laugh and a kiss under the moonlit sky. And you never found it lacking, not once, after meeting him.

You were both madly in love. Two fools swimming in an ocean of sanity and adoration. You completed each other. You longed for each other.

Alejandro reached home after the long journey. His muddy boots left traces on the doorstep as he fumbled for his keys, trying to be discreet. It was almost midnight, and he didn't want to wake you—or any of the neighbors.

Before the key even grazed the hole, the door slowly unlocked.

You gazed at Alejandro with a calm smile on your face and uttered, "Welcome home, colonel."

You were silent, still. Gazing at the astonished man. You promised, never quitting this habit of waiting for him.

He complained, nonsense about how you should rest and let him surprise you and bla-bla-bla.

You didn't give in his pleas, not even once.

You were always waiting at the doorstep, every ounce in your body craved a glimpse of your beloved husband.

Alejandro grinned, stepping inside and letting his bag fall to his side. His arms found their way to your sides, sweeping you off your feet and crashing you into his chest as he murmured, feeling a sense of peace wash over him, “Mi mondo… mi todo...”

The embrace was a burning fire, melting both of you into one. Alejandro closed the door with a kick of his heel, slowly stepping into the warm flat.

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb over the cut on his temple. He winced slightly, his eyes shutting before he uttered, "It's nothing...mi amor."

You shook your head, knowing his stubbornness was just a cover to hide his pain. Not because he was afraid of being vulnerable to you, he simply didn't want you to worry. He wished for you to live your ultimest youth, without a single cloud of onus to disturb your shining sun and skies.

You were a Phoenix to him, healing every scar and cut with your gentle touch and soft whispers.

"Come with me."

You guided him upstairs to the bathroom.

The room was hot, steamy with fog clouds floating around you. The black marbelic walls were covered with small beads of water vapor, slowly racing down to the ground.

Alejandro leaned against the door, resting his against the hard material with a long and tired sigh.

You checked the water temperature, motioning for him to climb in the tub. He steeped closer, gazing at the surface of the colorless liquid. His face emerged, and he couldn't help but chuckle. He cupped your cheeks, smiling wearily. "Mi amor, you didn't have to..."

"I wanted to..."

You ran him a warm bath, filled with devotion to the brim.

Just the way he liked it, with oils and conditioner that he enjoyed smelling on you. Alejandro adored every detail about you. Somehow, you had captured his mind and soul within your hands. Your little gestures only served to deepen his affection.

You helped him take off his dirty, blood-soaked clothes—thankfully not his own. The military uniform fell to the floor, followed by his torn shirt. He sighed deeply, shivering slightly as your hands trailed over his scarred skin, the cold sensation leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He remembered when he brought you to the beach, embarrassed about his battle scars, thinking you'd be disgusted by the cuts on his skin. But instead, you cradled his flesh with merciful tenderness, Washing away his worries through kisses scattered on his back. He held back his tears, letting you heal his skin and carve a lasting memory in his mind.

Back to reality, Alejandro smiled at you, his eyebrows furrowing in question at your grinning face. He was wearing cat-printed shorts, and you couldn't help but laugh as he blushed slightly.

There was no tension, no other thoughts, not at this moment at the very least. This precious moment was too good, too perfect to be tainted and corrupted by any sin, even if it wasn't a wrongdoing anyway. He saw it no other way, and neither did you. You helped him wash away the weariness of duty, making him feel at home. Could he ask for more?

Alejandro slowly submerged himself under the water, his head lazily resting on the edge of the tub. He gazed at you, silently observing your every movement. He missed this, missed you deeply. No words could express how desperately he longed for your presence.

You held the shampoo bottle, scooping some product into your hands before lathering it into his now wet hair. He shivered, letting out a contented sigh. You massaged his shoulders, washing away the aches of war and leaving nothing but love that cascaded down his shoulders like honey.

Silence filled the house, the only sounds audible were the hushed breaths he took and the occasional dripping of water from the sink. Finally, wrapped in a large towel and smelling of fresh grass and vanilla, Alejandro sat on the edge of the tub as you searched for band-aids in the small box. He chuckled wearily as you placed a green plaster on his temple.

Standing between his legs, you cupped his face, examining his very being before whispering silently, "I love you, thank you for coming back."

Taken aback, he kissed you, your lips intertwining in a gentle embrace of madness before he uttered, "Thank you for waiting, mi todo."

It was around 2 am, as you lay in bed. The scent of warm chumpurados filled the room, igniting in his soul and heart a longing for home. But, would he complain? He was indeed at home, for his heart and mind resided with you.

Alejandro placed his mug on the nightstand before resting his head on your thigh. You ran your fingers through his dark locks, gently caressing his hair.

Alejandro leaned in, murmuring nonsensical words against your limb. His gratitude was beyond imagination. Without you, he would be lost, despondent. He found his missing piece with you, you little thief, stealing his heart and claiming it as your own. He didn't mind in the slightest, willing to sacrifice his very essence for your sake.

Silently, you asked, "Is something on your mind, mi amor?"

He whispered instantly, his fingers intertwining with your form in a tenderness that would make the clouds shy away. "You... mi cielo."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you broke the silence once more. "I know, mi amor. I meant, is there anything bothering you?"

"No. Nothing at all.. when I am with you, I am so much happier…”

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 11

WC 1326, Masterpost CW: anxiety

“Hey, kid,” Flash the older said as he raced up beside Danny.

“Still not a kid, old man,” Danny replied. It was already a well worn argument by this point after several dinners or weekend meals over at the Flash’s household. Sure it was used before that, but once Danny had started seeing Barry out of the mask, he’d only been worse about it. Danny guessed it was their thing now. It was weird to have ‘things’ again with people, but a good sort of weird.

“Still not an old man, kid. I’m not even a grandpa yet!”

Danny almost dropped the tablet he was working on. Barry didn’t have any kids, not aside from Wally who might as well count. Did that mean…?

“I’d tell you to watch your sass in your new position,” Barry continued, unaware or uncaring of Danny’s sudden crisis about the idea of children, “but one, I’d be a hypocrite and two, it’s a solid third of the reason I recommended you.”

“Well, that’s good because the sass isn’t going awa— wait, what new position?”

Barry grinned under his mask in a way that just felt dangerous. Not, like, dangerous in general, but dangerous for Danny who was the focus of that smile. “You’ll see. Flash Two will pick you up Monday at nine am. Don’t worry, you’re cleared off work already.”

“Fla— and he’s gone. That’s great. What the fuck,” Danny said to himself. It was a struggle to focus on finishing up the post event check in and then his reports and then going over his team’s report and then some more paperwork, but Danny managed. As soon as he got home he was immediately was texting Wally.

After the Reveal, Danny had gotten Wally’s civilian number too, but there were strict rules for using that number. Danny understood the caution. Apparently the first number he had been given was encrypted by Batman’s crew, which was crazy to think about, even when he was dating a Flash, so there were less rules other than no civilian names. Just for the ease of it, Danny mostly stuck to the old number unless they were planning a purely civilian date. Or if Danny wanted to say things that he knew would make Wally blush. Things Danny would very much never want anyone else to read. They may have mostly kept to kissing in person, but teasing Wally was just too much fun.

Danny: Why is Big!Flash having you pick me up on Monday??? What did he mean about a ‘new position’?????? I like my job! FLASH!

Quick Boy: You’ve got to give me a second to answer, dude!

Danny: You’re supposed to be fast. 😑

Quick Boy: Who’s always telling me electrical signals can only move so fast?

Danny: FLASH 🤬

Quick Boy: Sorry, babe, I’m not allowed to tell! But you’ll love it! Promise!

Danny: 🥺

Quick Boy: Don’t make those eyes at me! Trust me, babe, just wait until Monday.

Danny: Fine. But know I’m pouting.

Quick Boy: 😭

Danny behaved. He didn’t bother for updates. He sent more cats dressed as Justice League members and finished off the last Percy Jackson book, sending Wally updates along the way. But the whole weekend the fact that he apparently had a new job he knew nothing about and would be taken to Monday churned in the back of his mind.

It made him anxious in a way that he hadn’t been since he left Amity Park for Central city.

He didn’t much like it.

-

“Please at least tell me that I’m dressed fine for this new job?” Danny asked when he opened the door to Wally’s knock.

He didn’t really have many other options if Wally said no, he already had on his best dark jeans, cleanest boots, and his new cross body bag. He might have a button up shirt he could change into instead of the long sleeve one he was in, but that was as good as it was going to get. He just didn’t have business casual clothes with the jobs he had.

“You look fine,” Wally said.

“Not exactly a supersuit,” Danny said with a sigh, taking in Wally’s uniform.

Wally pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek. “Not the kind of hero you are.”

That was something Wally had been doing, insisting that Danny was a hero. Whenever he protested, it only seemed to make Wally more insistent so Danny mostly let it be. Plus, the cute smile Wally got for ‘winning’ was nice to see.

It was gracing Wally’s lips now as Danny stepped out of his apartment, locked the door, and shoved the keys securely in his bag. One lost set of keys due to super speed was enough to make sure they were safely clipped in from then on.

“Okay. Right, let’s get this over with.”

“It’s a good thing,” Wally insisted as he squatted down for Danny to climb onto his back, “not your execution or anything.”

“I just don’t like not knowing,” Danny said.

“You love surprises.”

“Little surprises like picnics and presents, not life changing ones.”

“You’ll love it,” Wally insisted and then they were off.

-

“I’ll love an abandoned warehouse?”

“Apparently abandoned warehouse,” Wally stressed with a wave of his hands, like he was a two-bit magician.

“Convincing appearance. Once again, Flash, it’s a good thing you’re a hero because this as serial killer vibes.”

The windows were blacked out. There was a heavy layer of dust on most surfaces. The stairs to the foreman office were long rusted away. It was a mess.

But there was that feeling of being watched that crawled up Danny’s spine. None of the dust actually moved as they crossed the floor over to Barry. And the doors were either welded shut or solidly reinforced.

“Ready kids?” Barry asked.

“Still not kids,” Danny replied almost absently.

“Still don’t care!” Barry pressed one of the bricks on the wall and the whole thing shuddered and pulled back like some massive pocket door to reveal a… a portal behind the wall.

“Ta-da!” Wally said, complete with jazz hands.

Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from the portal to look at him.

Did they know? Was this…?

“Danny?”

“What?” Danny started, forcing himself to look over at Wally who was beside him again.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Danny winced. He just couldn’t hold back the twitch of his body at that word. “Sorry. Um, so what is that?”

“A Zeta tube, it’s how we travel to the Justice League. It’s like a transporter,” Barry explained.

Okay, right, not a portal to the Ghost Zone. No one knew. He was safe. Danny closed his eyes. It was just a transporter that looked a lot like a portal.

Wally rested his hand on Danny’s arm and Danny almost jumped from the light touch. “Babe?”

“Um, remember how I told you there was an accident in my parent’s lab when I was a kid? Yeah, um, sorta similar look, is all. It just freaked me out for a moment.”

"Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Wally said. He squeezed Danny’s arm gently.

“No way you could have known. Who has a phobia over portals, right?” Danny said as he summoned his best attempt at a smile for Wally.

“Are you okay to…” Wally glanced from Danny to the portal nervously.

“I, yes? Can you just explain to me how it will go?” Danny asked. He pressed himself close to Wally, doing what he could to scrape together his frayed nerves. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone through the actual portal that had killed him all the time. It was just that now all that felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime no one remembered but him.

“Of course, babe,” Wally said, twining their arms together before he launched into a passionate explanation of the Zeta tubes.

It would be alright.

He could do this.

He had Wally.

-----

AN: Wally and Barry: We have something so cool to show you! Danny: *has portal based ptsd* ._.

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

New Face (11th Doctor x Timelord!Reader)

watch me make a series out of a oneshot that was very much not meant to be a series— anyway, one david tennant hyperfixation led to another and now I'm rewatching Matt Smith's run as The Doctor and you know what that means!

Also requests are open!

Wordcount: 1.4k

Series masterpost

Summery: a new face a new doctor and the start of a new adventure with a lovely little girl who just wants a ride in a time machine.

Things change quickly with the Doctor. You knew that well.

One moment you're comforting the face that rescued you the next you're putting out fires around the Tardis as it wildly flies over the skies of London.

"A little help over here!" The Doctor cried, he's barely holding onto the edge of the Tardis, his body hanging out through the front doors. His new voice is higher than the one you knew.

"In a minute love!" You yell back, there was no other option than yelling over the explosions of the console and the many alarms going off.

Another explosion rocked the Tardis and the Doctor manages to pull himself up as you adjust the angle at which the Tardis is basically crashing towards the ground. There's no other option but to crash so you tried to crash in the least horrific way you could.

The thing is, you crash sideways, tipping you and the Doctor deep into the Tardis.

"Oh for fucksake—" You said as you landed against one of the couches in the library. "Oi! Language!" The doctor chided. He had the luck of landing with a big splash in the swimming pool that for some reason was in the library.

"Since when do you care about about language?" You asked him, helping him out of the pool.

"Since now evidently" He said and started looking around for ways to get out.

You handed him a grappling line.

"Care to do the honors?" You asked and he smiled, launching it as far as he could and when he felt it was stable he began to climb up.

When he finally made it to the Tardis doors you heard him talking to someone. You hadn't the faintest clue as to who.

"Love, make some room!" You called from below him and he climbed onto the Tardis, looking down.

"Woah, look at that" He said in awe as he looked at the Tardis. It was quite a view though you would have appreciated a hand as you climbed up to join him.

That's when you saw the little girl standing beside the Tardis in her nightie and bright bright red boots that matched her bright red hair. Well not really red. Human red, which was more of a copper.

"Hello there" You said, wiping the sweat from your brow.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Just had a fall, all the way down there right to the library. Hell of a climb back up" The Doctor told her.

"You're soaking wet" The little girl said.

"He landed in the swimming pool" You added.

She turned to look at the Doctor, "You said you were in the library".

"So was the swimming pool" He answered.

She looked a bit confused but quickly kept the questions coming.

"Are you a policeman?" She asked.

"Why? Did you call a policeman?" The Doctor asked, meanwhile you climbed down from the Tardis and onto the ground, inspecting the crash site.

"Did you come about the crack in my wall?" The little girl asked.

"What crack—" The Doctor started but he fell, clutching his chest as he groaned in pain.

You weren't worried. He was still coming off of his regeneration meaning he was practically invincible.

"Are you okay mister?" The little girl asked.

"I'm fine, it's okay, this is all perfectly normal" He said, some fleck of regeneration energy floating out of his mouth.

You turned back to the Doctor and the little girl, content with you assessments of the crash site.

"I'm sorry, we seem to have crashed into your shed" You said to the little girl and she looked between you and the Doctor.

"Who are you?" She asked and you smiled, leaning down to be at her eye level.

"My name is Y/N and he" You said, pointing at your lover who was currently watching the regeneration energy still filling his hands "-is The Doctor."

The Doctor got his bearings, or at least tried to, coming up beside you. "Does it scare you?" He asked.

"Does what scare me?" She asked.

"The crack in your wall, does it scare you?" He repeated.

"Yes" She answered, almost shyly.

This excited him. "Well then, no time to lose. Like he said I'm The Doctor, do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions and don't wander off" He said confidently and started walking.

"Love" You said and he turned his head back to face you, causing him to walk straight into the tree you wanted to warn him about.

The little girl walked over to him where he was just lying on the ground.

"You alright?" She asked.

"Early days" He said, "Steering's a bit off plus he distacted me" he said, pointing at you.

With a roll of your eyes you went over to help him up.

"You really should sit down and eat something love, you're running on fumes" You told him and shrugged.

"I'll be fine" He said and you sighed, turning to the little girl.

"Can you do me a favor and get him something to eat? Maybe then the two of you can have a look at that scary crack in your wall" You suggested and she nodded, you gave her The Doctor's hand and told her to be careful with him cause he's very iratible right now and he complained as the little girl walked with him into the house and you stayed outside with the Tardis.

You had a feeling this would be a regular thing with this new Doctor. You cleaning up after him.

You could already see so many differences between his old self and this new one.

Besides the obvious physical difference this new body was much more wild. He was already all over the place much more than your old Doctor. But he was also charming. You were sure you'd love him just as much once he figured himself out a bit more, after all he did the same for you.

All that time ago when you promised you would never leave him, when you told you loved him, when you stayed by his side even as the power of a sun was burning through his body. You stayed with him and regenerated and he helped you. He carefully picked you up and placed you back in the medbay of the ship you were on and when you woke up he helped you get accustomed to your new body and he kept loving you just like he did before. So you would do the same.

You checked the grappling line and when you were sure it would hold you went back into the Tardis.

nothing in the console room was on fire anymore which was good. You went one by one checking the systems and resetting what needed it. That is until the ringing started.

you hadn't actually gotten to checking the engines yet. The ringing was coming from the engines.

"No, no, no, no, no— Come on!" You cried as you tried to settle them.

"Just calm down a bit will you?" You tried to ask the Tardis but she wasn't having it.

"Y/N! What's going on in there?" The Doctor hollered as he ran out of the house.

"She's throwing a tantrum!" You yelled through the open Tardis doors.

"It's just a box, how can a box be throwing a tantrum?" The little girl said. You still didn't know her name.

"Not a box, it's a time machine" The Doctor said.

"What, a real one?" she asked, you popped your head out of the Tardis just enough to look at them.

"Doctor come on!" You said, popping back into the console room.

"Five minute hop into the future should do it" The Doctor said, climbing onto the Tardis.

"Can I come?" The girl asked.

"Not safe in here, five minutes, give me five minutes, I'll be right back" He said.

"People always say that" She said and the Doctor stopped, he climbed back down to the ground and kneeled in front of the little girl.

"Am I people?" He asked, "Do I even look like people? Trust me, I'm the Doctor" He said.

He climbed back onto the Tardis, gave the girl one last look and jumped in, "Geronimo!"

With him inside the ringing finally stopped.

"There you go, you just don't like it when Y/N drives" The Doctor cooed at the console.

You rolled your eyes.

"Doctor" You asked, "What did you tell that little girl?"

"I told her we'd be back in five minutes" He said, running around the console, hitting buttons and turning switches.

"Did you get her name?" You asked and he smiled.

"Yes! Amelia Pond! Brilliant name isn't it? Amelia Pond"

[raz-writes-the-thing]

first masterlist

this masterlist has hit the link limit. please see SECOND MASTERLIST for more works

masterlist masterpost

fandoms are in alphabetical order

BAD SAMARITAN

Cale Erendreich x Reader

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

It's The Dominance Of The Thing - (Cale Erendreich x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Cale wants you to ride his boot.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Your Devil - (Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader)

You want Cale to get a little dressed up for the trick or treaters on Halloween. Cale is less than impressed.

Names A Plenty - (Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader)

Cale wants to know why you have a book of baby names.

BROADCHURCH

Alec Hardy x Reader

Headcanons

Alec taking fem!readers virginity HCS 18+ ONLY

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Confessional Feelings - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

You find your feelings for Alec exposed after running into him after his date.

Unconditional Support - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

It takes a while for you to get used to receiving love and affection, but this time it was just a little too much.

Starving - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Alec discovers you fantasise about his tongue. A lot.

Rough Around the Edges - (Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

You and Alec have been working on expanding yourselves in the bedroom. Today Alec wants to try something new

Mortified - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader fem anatomy) 18+ ONLY

Being in the office so late usually meant that you had complete privacy- though that doesn't account for people leaving things behind, does it?

Crimes of Essex Proportions - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

Alec's stuck on his case. You just so happen to know exactly what he needs to know.

Tomorrow Problem - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Sometimes all you need for a little fun is, like, twelve drinks and a good laugh.

Deep, Deep Down - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

Your menstrual cycle was always the worst, but Alec does his best to make it better.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Alec Hardy Drabble - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

Alec doesn't know how to deal with the fact that you think he's a DILF

Your DILF - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Alec decides to own the fact that he's a DILF

Interested - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Alec's interested in receiving some attention from behind, if you know what I mean.

Enticing - (Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Alec comes home and ruins your anniversary surprise for himself.

Missed - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

Alec's been away for a while. It's safe to say he missed you.

Out In The Sticks - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

It's high time you forced Alec to take a vacation.

Bullshite Doctors - (Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader)

Alec is shocked by the type of care females get at the doctors.

DOCTOR WHO

Tenth Doctor x Reader

Blowjob HCS 18+ ONLY

Relationship HCS 18+ ONLY

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Running Towards Something - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor is in need of some comfort after a nightmare.

Nightmares No More - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

It's no surprise that your nightmares pick up again since beginning travelling with the Doctor, but the Doctor has just the fix.

Almost Too Far Gone - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

It's when the Doctor starts messing with things he shouldn't that you realise that you're growing afraid of him. Is it time to slip away unnoticed?

Riled Up - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

The Doctor grows tired of you trying to work him up.

In It For The Long Haul - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

Almost dying repeatedly will wear anyone down eventually, and you're not sure how much more of this you can take.

Could Have Been On A Picnic - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

You're pretty sure the Doctor cooks things like this up specifically to irk you. After all, you could have been on a picnic today.

Best of Friends With A Little Extra - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Prompt: “People who’re just friends don’t do shit like this, and you know it.”

Nothing At All- (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

Your feelings for the Doctor are outed, and you're pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way. Thank God you're wrong, eh?

Cocktails and Confessions - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

You don't mean to confess your love, but in your defence, you are about three and a half whiskies deep.

Perhaps It's Time - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

You think you're finally ready to have your cherry popped.

Love Drunk - (Tenth Doctor x Masc!Reader) 18+ ONLY

The Doctor jerks you off. That's it, that's the fic.

Accountability - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

You're gone, and it's the Doctor's fault. How is he supposed to live with himself now?

Trans Pride - (Tenth Doctor x Masc!Reader)

You can't believe the Doctor didn't know you were trans.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Mild angst/fluff Ten Drabble - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

"The world needs more people like you / "Do it or die trying!"

DW Prompt Drabble - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

"I'm here to save your sad little ass." / "Hey! My ass isn't little. It's.... average size."

DW Prompt Drabble - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

"What did you do?" / "Nothing you can't get me out of jail for!" / "Not again!"

DW Prompt Drabble - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

"You know, this reminds me of the time I met the president."

DW Prompt Drabble - (Tenth Reader x GN!Reader)

Prompt: “I’m about to say ‘shut up’ and if you respond with a ridiculously flirtatious ‘make me’ I will slap you.”

DW Drabble - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor comes into contact with some (non-sexual) stimulants

Touchy (Drabble) - Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor asks about your touchy nature.

For Research Purposes - (Tenth Doctor x Masc!Reader)

In order to save the universe, you're pretty sure you need to kiss the Doctor again. There's no harm in trying...

Marks - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

The Doctor really enjoys seeing his marks on your skin.

GOOD OMENS (TV)

Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader

How They'd Deal With Anger Issue!Reader

How They'd Take Care of You HCS

Full Length Fics (600 words plus)

Angel's Blood - (Aziraphale x GN!Vampire!Reader + a hint of Crowley) 18+ ONLY

It's entirely an accident when you discover Angel's blood is an aphrodisiac for Vampires.

Demon's Blood - (Aziraphale x Crowley x Fem!Vampire!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Part two to 'Angel's Blood.' You've tried, Aziraphale. It's high time you tried Crowley, too.

A Fair Few Questions - (Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader)

In which the Reader finds out Aziraphale and Crowley are Supernatural entities and has a fair few questions for them.

Snack Foods - (Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader)

You're originally from the US and are feeling homesick. Your partners somehow just always know what to do to make you feel better.

Crotch-Punching Distance - (Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader)

Jim, short for James, James short for Gabriel- or was it James, long for Jim and short for Gabriel? Is really getting on your nerves.

Follow on drabble post

Birth One, Get One Free - (Aziraphale x Crowley x Fem!Reader)

You're the birth mother of The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness and you find you need Crowley's help with making sure you get to keep your little Antichrist.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Movie Magic - (Crowley x Aziraphale x Reader)

Aziraphale and Crowley comfort the reader after a bad day.

Five More Minutes (Drabble) - (Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader)

Your partners catch you singing under your breath.

Sleepy Things (Drabble) - (Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader)

Aziraphale and Crowley sleep much, but they love to cuddle you to sleep when the opportunity arises.

Warming Up (Drabble) - (Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader)

You're cold. Aziraphale and Crowley can't have that, can they?

Show To Catch - (Aziraphale x (fem!presenting!)Crowley x GN!Reader)

Prompt: "Everything would be a lot easier if you fucking sat still."

Little Moaner - (Crowley x GN!Reader + smidge of Zira)

Crowley has the shits with you and he's being petty about it.

Bear It All - (Aziraphale x Crowley + GN!Reader)

You reflect on the fact that you love Crowley and he doesn't love you back quite the way you want him to.

Aziraphale x Reader

Full Length Fics (600 words plus)

Much Better - (Aziraphale x GN!Reader)

You've had a long day, but that's okay. Aziraphale always knows just what to do.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

What Would They Think? - (Aziraphale x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Prompt: “What would they think if they could see you now, hm?” 

Crowley x Reader

Headcanons

Angel!Crowley HCs for Shy!Singer!Reader

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Paper Boat - (Crowley x Reader)

Crowley needs a little comfort but has trouble asking for it.

Going Steady? - (Crowley x GN!Reader)

Reader comes out to Crowley as gay, and it comes to light that Crowley was rather interested too.

No Pity for the Wicked - (Crowley x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Crowley fucks the reader in the Bentley (post-S2)

Flushed (Crowley x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Reader doesn't expect Aziraphale to be at the Bookshop when they show up in nothing but a trench coat. Crowley teasing Reader ensues.

Untitled - (Crowley x GN!Reader)

The Reader has had a Day(tm) and comes to Crowley for comfort.

Helping Hand - (Crowley x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Crowley catches you reading a NSFW novel and gives you a helping hand.

Not Just Friends, Then? - (Crowley x GN!Reader)

FWB!Reader accidentally tells Crowley they love him.

Last Meal - (Crowley x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Crowley really, really, likes to eat you out.

Better Hurry - (Crowley x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Prompt: “if i have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

Bentley Shenanigans - (Crowley x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Crowley needs to relieve some frustrations after that shitshow of a birthday party.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

"I'm Inside Your Walls" - (Crowley x GN!Reader)

Reader visits Crowley's flat for the first time.

Good Toys - (Fem!Presenting!Crowley x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Prompt: “I am going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty head.”

Little Minx - (Fem!Presenting!Crowley x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

It's nice to lay in and snuggle.

PRIMEVAL (TV SHOW)

Connor Temple x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Wolverine or Spider-Man? - (Connor Temple x GN!Reader)

You meet Connor at the bar. He's pleasantly surprised by the topic of conversation.

PRODIGAL SON

Martin Whitly x Reader

Martin Whitley HCS X X

Soft!Dom Martin HCS

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Science Behind the Madness - (Martin Whitly x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

You're lucky to have a sexual partner so versed in the science behind the female orgasm.

Study Materials - (Martin Whitly x GN!Reader)

Martin loves your singing voice. How convenient that it helps you study.

A Collared Occasion - (Martin Whitly x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Martin gets you a collar.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Martin Whitly Drabble - Martin Whitly x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY

Prompt: “you look so pretty when you’re cumming for me.” (but not smutty)

Cute As A Button (Drabble) - (Martin Whitly x GN!Reader)

Martin will do anything to make you smile.

Kisses - (Martin Whitly x GN!Reader)

You really want to cover Martin in kisses. What a shame his guard is distracted.

No Crowds, Thanks - (Martin Whitly x GN!Reader)

You're not a fan of crowds, but Martin always keeps you safe.

Just A Trim? - (Martin Whitly x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Martin asks if he should get a haircut. You don't think he should.

SECRET SMILE

Brendan Block x Reader

Brendan charm HCs

THE WALKING DEAD (TV)

Negan x Reader

Full-Legnth Fics (600 words plus)

Negan x GN!Virgin!Reader HCs

Distraction - (Negan x Reader) 18+ ONLY

Negan consoles the reader by offering them a distraction from their recent break-up.

Binders and Bonding - (Negan x GN!Reader)

Negan catches the Reader trying on a binder.

That Smile - (Negan x TransMale!Reader)

Negan offers some very Negan-esque support when he discovers that the Reader has had to deal with some transphobic issues at the Sanctuary.

Dirty Girl - (Negan x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Negan fucks the reader up against a fence.

Acquired Tastes - (Negan x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Negan likes to see just what it takes to wake you up sometimes.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Suds (Drabble) - (Negan x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

You invite Negan to come shower with you.

Not Little Red - (Negan x GN!Reader) 18+ ONLY

You really shouldn't enjoy egging Negan on as much as you do.

Against the Rules - (Negan x Fem!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Negan returns to encourage the Reader to be bad for him. He just needs to let off some steam.

[starry-eyed-adam]

ROTTMNT HEAD OVER BOOTS MASTERPOST

ART CREDIT: @aversiteespabilas THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH!!

FIC LINK

100 follower DTIYS / CTIYS!

Hello!! This is a future, Leosagi, Western/Cowboy ROTTMNT au that takes place in Montana, USA. Loosely based on the song linked above. It is a fic on AO3 that is updated every Sunday night CST. Occasionally I will upload early :)

SYNOPSIS:

Yuichi Usagi, former samurai, recently relocated to Montana from the headache that was New York, looking for a fresh start. The clear skies and mountain air provides a lot of calm—and new opportunities, he discovers when he meets four turtle brothers down the street from his farm, each with their own captivating personality and kind souls. One in particular has started to make his heart pound a little faster, and yet he can’t shake this strange feeling that he knows him from somewhere…

Leonardo Hamato has lived in the same rural community almost his entire life. His family packed up and left the city when he was seventeen, and there isn’t much he remembers from the months leading up to their move. One thing he does know is that this handsome stranger is about to make his life much more interesting.

Donatello Hamato has been described as a gunslinger, a vigilante, a cold force of unstoppable nature. That’s certainly what he looks like to Yuichi, and the rabbit yokai can’t explain the man’s unwelcoming attitude towards him. But as Donnie begins to block him out of Leo’s life, taking down old pictures from the wall, silently conveying that some things are best stayed buried, well… something is definitely wrong here.

CHARACTER REF SHEETS:

Yuichi

Leo

Donnie

Mikey

Raph

TAG:

#Head Over Boots, mostly where I draw, write, and reblog other people’s cowboys :))

2058 (CW: death)

parts 1 2 3

more updates to this post to come! if you’re reading the fic, thank you sooo much!!

[notjustjavierpena]

I love checking in on hubby and his family. Is everything going well? Are they doing baby number 4 soon?

Nails (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Just a tiny thing for you, anon. Mwah!

Summary: Father-and-son bonding time brings a surprise. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Allusion to smut, domestic bliss, Lucas is the best boy, wholesome masculinity, javi being a good father makes you horny

Word count: 1k

Nails

The door opens and closes in the entrance hallway as you walk around with Sebastian on your arm in the kitchen, bouncing him gently as he fusses quietly. You turn to look at the clock, realizing that it has been three hours since you sent Lucas and Javier out the door with a mission to get Lucas a new pair of football boots while simultaneously letting them have some father-and-son bonding time. 

Lucas had voiced his disappointment about the lack of time spent alone with his dad when you had tucked him in last week, and thinking back on it, you had quickly realized that it had indeed been too long since Lucas had done something together with his father. So you had made plans to take Sebastian and dropped Inés off at her abuelo’s for the weekend. Tonight, you will cook your son’s favorite food (homemade burgers), watch a movie together as a family (perhaps one that you have said no to him watching in the past), and then he will be allowed to play his video games till much later than usual (even if he’ll continue playing his games underneath his blanket until he passes out).

“In here,” you call out to them, making Sebastian cry briefly until you kiss the top of his head repeatedly. His fingers curl around your hair, and you try not to swear as he tugs. You scold him in a teasing, gentle voice, “That hurts, Mister Grumpypants. Your mamá needs hair on her head, you know.”

When they enter the kitchen, you are untangling your baby’s tiny hand from your hair and making him grab at your blouse instead. You look up with a grin, “Hey you.”

Javier walks up to kiss you before kissing Sebastian’s head too, “Hola, bebito. Y mi amor. (Hello, little baby. And my love)”

“Did you have fun?” You ask, resting Sebastian on your arm to hold out your other hand for Lucas. However, your son hesitates to move across the kitchen floor and it makes you raise a brow. What exactly has happened on their trip?

Javier walks back to Lucas, crouching down to rest his own forehead against his son’s. They share a look, and Javier whispers something you can’t hear. 

“Está bien, mijo (It's okay, my son),” he says softly afterward, turns his body towards you, “Lucas has something he wants to show you.”

“What is it, sweetie?” You shift Sebastian a little more until he sits on your hip. You hold out your hand a little more insistently and finally, Lucas gives in and walks up to you. He places his hand in yours. 

“Lucas wanted to get his nails done,” Javier says after a moment of silence. You look down to see that Lucas’ nails are bright pink and shiny with topcoat nail polish. Your son’s demeanor is flustered. 

“Lucas! These are beautiful,” you say without hesitation, “Look at them! All the boys at soccer practice will be jealous.”

Lucas lights up at the compliment, seemingly not having expected instant support from his mother. You can safely say that you mean every word.

Javier continues, “So we had Lucas’ nails done before the boots. The woman at the shoe shop had a lot to say but I told her to mind her fucking business.”

“Javi!” You exclaim at the swearing. 

“Dad, it was okay,” Lucas reassures, clearly shocked too. He lets go of you to scold his father, “Mom says we can’t say that word.”

“Mom says a lot of things,” he adds with a smirk, “What if I told you that I’ll allow you to say it once tonight?”

“Really?” Lucas looks back at you for confirmation 

“Absolutely not,” you reply with a roll of your eyes at your husband who only grins, “Daddy speaks in tongues. He is in trouble for saying that word.”

“Am I?” Javier suggests something with a glint in his eyes, something that goes over Lucas’ head. He ruffles Lucas’ hair, and the boy immediately tries flattering it again. 

“Did anything else happen?” You ask, letting Sebastian grab at your finger when he starts searching for your hair again. You think he might be hungry soon.

“Well, after that bullsh—“ Javier stops himself as you give him a look, “—nonsense, we went back to the salon and I got my nails done too.”

You spot that Javier has gotten his nails painted red. It suits his skin tone extremely well. Lucas beams beside him and they hold out their hands together. 

“Maybe I’ll forgive you for swearing,” you say, nodding towards their painted nails, “They just look so good.”

“Are you mad at me for getting pink?” Lucas asks suddenly. 

Without a shred of hesitation, you shake your head, “Are you kidding? Pink is one of my favorite colors, baby. It looks perfect on you.”

“Thank you,” he replies shyly. 

“I told you it was the right choice, kiddo, they look fantastic. No one can deny it,” Javier says and places a hand on his boy’s shoulder. Lucas leans into his father’s touch but then jumps as he remembers something.

“Mom! I need to show you my new shoes!” He nearly shouts, excitement bubbling up in his voice. He runs off to get the bag, “They’re blue!”

You don’t manage to answer before he is gone from the room. It makes you seize the opportunity to speak freely with your husband, “Javier F. Peña.”

“Yes, Mrs. Peña?” Javier hums with his mischievous smile. 

“If you don’t put baby number four in me tonight,” you begin, closing the distance between you, “I might go fucking insane.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[beansprean]

My Familiar’s Ghost part 81

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Wide shot, knees up, of vampire Guillermo and Nandor sitting on the couch in the library in front of the papered-over bay window. Nandor is wearing one of his usual outfits and Guillermo is wearing something new: a dark blue shirt with a pink floral pattern, a dark red sweater vest, brown cuords, and a string of pearls. Both are looking at the viewer and have clipboards in their hands, Guillermo's pen poised and ready on the paper and Nandor gesturing his in the air as he asks, 'So...what makes you the best candidate for our new familiar?'

2. Reverse shot of a single green armchair on a vague brown background. Sitting on it, legs crossed, is a southeast Asian woman in her 30s with shoulder length black hair and countless slash-like scars running up her arms, neck, and face. She is wearing a purple sweater with 3/4 sleeves, black leggings, and combat boots. She grimaces, looking upward, left arm waving vaguely as her right nervously fingers the arm of the chair, and says, 'Well, I survived three years with Gorgo the Murderer...'

3. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a fat white man in his 30s with close cropped sandy blond hair and unsettling blue eyes, wearing a blue polo and brown chinos. His arms are covered in gorey tattoos depicting blood, buzzsaws, skulls, and fangs, plus one art nouveau portrait and black fang shapes above and below his mouth. He stares directly forward with a fixed grin, hands laced together over his chest, and declares, 'My former mistress always said I had a knack for dismemberment.'

4. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a fat brown hispanic person in their 20s with hazel eyes, big glasses, and half bleach blonde half dark brown hair in a bowl cut. She is wearing a red flannel open over a TrueBlood tee shirt and jeans, nails painted teal, a silver hoop in each ear. They are leaning forward eagerly, fists clenched and eyes wide, babbling, 'You're the only familiar I've ever heard of who got turned! What's the turnaround for your familiars? Which one of you will turn me?!'

5. Repeat, new candidate in the chair: a small white woman in her 60s with gray-streaked auburn hair wearing a low-cut dark pink top tucked into a plaid knee-length skirt. Her long nails are painted a dark reddish brown to match her lipstick, and she also has on pantyhose and, inexplicably, a diamond ring on her left ring finger. She leans casually against the side of the chair, brown eyes roaming the ceiling, and announces, 'I've had so many masters by now... I'm really just looking for something more long-term...'

6a. Reverse shot back to Guillermo and Nandor on the couch. Nandor leans forward with a suggestive smirk, touching the butt of his pen coyly to his chin, and replies, 'That is good to hear... I trust your age will not prevent you from your duties?' Guillermo glares at him from the corner of his eye, grip shaking on his pen. 6b. Knees up in profile of Nandor and the milf candidate sitting across from each other, leaning forward with suggestive grins. One of her legs stretches forward to rub against his and she touches her chest demurely, replying, 'Honey, I can handle whatever you have for me-' Guillermo leans around Nandor to get between them and interrupts her, loudly shouting 'Next!!' 6c. Zoom in to shoulders up of Nandor, turned toward the viewer to curl his fingers in a wave as the milf leaves offscreen, muttering, 'Uh, well, thank you for your time.' Nandor glances over his shoulder with the smuggest of grins at Guillermo, who is absolutely seething behind him. Guillermo is surrounded by a ragged black aura, frowning as deeply as his boyish face allows, glowing orange eyes burning holes into the back of Nandor's head. /end ID

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls chapter 13 part 2/2

masterpost

Given that Dr. and Dr. Fenton had taken him on a drive around town that legitimately climaxed with an on-foot chase of a hulking ghost who did not care to comment for their family blog, Jason thought that was actually kinda probable. If the Drs. had that technology, their kids would probably have access as well.

“Why not?” Tim said, sounding a bit defensive. “We know for a fact that there’s a few undead out there, zombie boy. And there’s a ghost affiliated with the JL.”

All solid points.

‘But there’s no way the good Doctors would be able to convince a ghost to do anything they wanted. Would the daughter have any better luck?’

Jason covered a laugh in his fist.

His ghostly experience so far consisted of:

Danny Phantom, who was very annoyed that Waters was trying to pay him tribute and not happy to see Jason, either.

The mysterious collaborator who hadn’t even wanted Jason to enter his tower.

Skalker, who spent the length of their acquaintance screaming and flying away at what appeared to be his top speed while Jack Fenton whooped and Dr. Fenton shouted questions from a megaphone.

“I get the vibe that they don’t really care to interact with the living,” Jason said, before Tim could get his knickers in a twist. “So my skepticism is in regards to the likelihood of a ghost agreeing to collaborate.”

“What, you think they’re all the same?” Tim said. His tone made it seem like he thought that was such an embarrassingly unintellectual idea that Jason should sink through the floor.

“I think there’s pretty good reasons there might be a trend.”

Tim made an unconvinced sound and changed the subject. “Since they have a similar area of interest, I want to look for a connection between the Fentons and Waters. They could be- Why did you laugh?”

A neon sign lit up across the street, sending a wash of purple light through the air. Jason shook his head. “The Fentons- the Dr.s Fenton, at least, strongly dislike Jeremy Waters.”

“Why did that come up?”

“No reason,” Jason lied airily. “Anyway, that’s not it. Could be some kind of rivalry. But I doubt they’d want to visit Waters in Arkham to give him their sympathies.”

Tim chewed that over for a moment. “Could be a rivalry. I gotta go, O’s hitting my line.”

“Stay safe out there.” Jason cut the conversation and settled in to think. He stuck his hands in his pockets and wished for something to fiddle with that wasn’t a weapon. It had poser vibes to stand around on a rooftop alone playing with a knife or a gun. If Oracle caught you on video, she would tint it blue, set it to some humiliatingly emo soundtrack, and send it around the hero community.

Not, uh. Not that that had happened to him.

He called in. “Hey, O, good evening.”

“Good to hear from you, Hood.” She sounded as serene as ever.

Jason fidgeted a little. “Anything I could help with?” He toed the front of his boot back and forth on the cement ledge for a moment, killing time by idly calculating how many seconds he’d have to engage a grapple if he fell from this height.

“Good news for Gotham, it’s a quiet night.”

He sighed.

“I know, I know,” O said sympathetically. “You got all dressed up in your dancing shoes-”

“And there’s no one to go out with,” Jason agreed. At the back of his mind he vaguely remembered that that…might not be true, actually. He made a dramatic sigh. “I might call it a night, then. No point staring at the city like some bat-eared creep. I don’t have any monologues to work on right now.”

“Oh, you got those all done? Good for you, little buddy.”

Jason resisted the urge to flip her off. She wasn’t even here.

“Stay safe,” he said, because the idea of ending a call without saying that always filled him with a terrible premonition that this would be the time the other person ended up shot in the head and gone forever. He blew out a long, slow breath when he was finally truly alone and reconsidered the thought he’d had earlier.

‘I haven’t messaged Phantom all this time. It might be a good night for it. It’s been most of a week. He won’t be annoyed that I’m checking in now.’

Yeah… Yeah, okay. Jason grappled down and made his way to where he’d stashed his bike. He got into his current residence and stripped out of his gear. He got out his phone and shot Phantom a text before he went into the shower. Not much, he didn’t wanna come across as desperate. Just a nice, casual, “Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!”

[ramblingoak]

Naps With Copia

Nap #12: A Nap With The Captain

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

This is for @primosfiore who wanted a nap with Capitano Copia from my Steampunk Universe, Clockwork Hearts 💙 You do not need to read the other stories in this verse before this one!

Cardinal Copia x Reader

Other tales from the Clockwork Hearts universe: Capitano Copia, Clockwork Friends, Building a Family and Napping in the Clouds.

Warnings: none, sfw, 1k words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

He smelled like smoke and engine oil.

You had given up trying to get him to clean a bit before bed a while ago.  More often than not Copia was so exhausted after working on his airship The Impera all day that he’d barely manage to get his boots off before falling into bed.  Your bed, specifically.

Today was a little different though, the sun was still shining through the windows of your cabin when there was a quick knock on your door.  The knock was your only warning before Copia stumbled in looking like he’d stuck his wrench into the shining blue core of the ship.  You both were still for a beat as you blinked at each other.  Copia may have had the habit of barging into your cabin mostly unannounced but he was always willing to leave if you told him to.

Not that you ever did.

“What happened to you?”  Copia’s only response to your question was a grunt.  He continued to stand in place, his eyes looking a little unfocused as they watched you.  “Copia?”

“There might have been a little…explosion.”  Alarmed, you rushed up from your desk to check him over.  He weakly batted at your hands when you poked and prodded at him.  “Sto bene, I’m fine!”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”  He sighed but stopped fighting you, his cheeks pinking up a bit when you swept your fingers across them.  You gently pulled the goggles off his head, trying not to laugh when his salt and pepper hair stuck up every which way when they were gone.  “You need a shower.”

Copia rolled his eyes, reaching up to take your hands in his.  He brought them to his mouth and began pressing kisses into your knuckles.  “What I need is some sleep.”  He turned your hands over to press a kiss into each palm and then moved lower to kiss where your pulse was strong on the inside of your wrists.  “Preferably with you at my side.”

“Is that an order?”  You rolled your eyes at the raised eyebrow on his face and then corrected yourself.  “I’m sorry, is that an order Capitano?”

“Sì!  The very highest of orders.”  

He dropped your hands and immediately went over to the small bed along the wall.  You shyly looked away, expecting him to work on removing some of his clothes but when the bed springs creaked noisily you looked back to see him sprawled across your bed fully clothed.

“Hey!  Ugh Copia, you’re getting everything dirty!”  He mumbled something in Italian as you unbuttoned his vest, turning away from you so he was facing the wall.  You straightened up to glare down at him, annoyed at all the grease and dirt you could already see on your clean blankets.  “At least take your damned boots off.”

His only response was more grumbling so you took them off yourself, wrinkling your nose and quickly dropping them to the floor when they were off.  Copia was already still, his quiet snores filling the room when you took a step back from the bed.  It was rare to see him so peaceful.  Ever since you had met him he always seemed to be on the move.  Whether it was strolling along the deck of his ship or elbow deep in some machine or even following you around like his little clockwork rats followed him, Copia was rarely still.

It made moments like this special.

You took a few steps back from the bed, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet.  While he napped you could work on the new engine designs.  Everything needed to be reimagined and rebuilt, parts needed to be bought, parts needed to be stolen…there was so much to do.  Too much to do and precious little time to do it in.  But Copia needed this, he needed rest.  You would never deny him that.

“Are you staring at me while I sleep?”

His voice startled you and when your eyes focused on him again he was looking over his shoulder grinning like an idiot.  

“More like glaring.  You’ve gotten grease over everything.  Again.”

“A little grease never hurt anyone.”  He rolled onto his back and held a hand out, his gloved fingers wiggling in your direction.  “Come here.”

“Copia I have to finish this.”  

“And you will, but right now you should rest.  With me.”  When you remained unmoved he stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.  “Per favore.”

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t.  And not just because you did really need to finish the diagram you were working on but also because whatever was developing between you and Copia was filling your head and heart with all sorts of ideas.  Ideas you weren’t sure could ever actually happen, not with so much on the line right now.  But maybe that was reason enough to let whatever was going on develop.

Not knowing what tomorrow would bring was reason enough to take a chance.

“Alright, fine.”  

His glove was warm under your hand when you let him tug you into bed.  He scooted over just a bit more, enough to give you some more room but not enough that you had no other choice but to be pressed against him.  Copia was humming a jaunty tune as you got settled, your head finally resting on his shoulder and one of your arms wrapped around his waist.

“See?  Questo è buono.”  He took your hand resting on his stomach in one of his and gave it a squeeze.  “Good, right?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, burying your nose in his shirt and collecting yourself before you answered, “It’s very good, Copia.”

“Ah ah, it’s Capit–ai!”

He jerked away when you pinched his side, giving you the same look that used to scare you but now it just made you smile.

“My apologies.”  You rubbed your hand over where you pinched him and his body soon relaxed again, his eyes once more beginning to droop.  “It’s very good, Capitano.”

His lips pulled up in a soft smile but you could tell he was already falling asleep.  You shifted a bit next to him to get comfortable again and it wasn’t long before you were joining him.  The hum of the ship and the sounds of his breathing following you into your dreams.

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

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