#but he's not actually it's an accident

[murk888]

*coughs* 👁️👁️ ...

and two more sketches :3

[danceinthunder]

Can you imagine how flustered James would be when he and Regulus start dating and Regulus starts actually being really affectionate and soft with him?

Like of course Regulus still teasingly bullies him (it’s one of his love languages and James loves it dw) but when he starts also complimenting him and giving him random hugs and stuff? James would melt and blush and not know how to respond.

And Regulus would love the fact he can shut James up better than anyone so he’d just do it all the time. Everyone round Hogwarts would be so confused about how The Regulus Black, who seemingly only had two moods: indifference and annoyance, suddenly started being so sweet and soft to James Potter.

He’d chase him down the halls when he forgot a textbook in his room calling for his “Sunshine” and James would be speed walking away blushing the entire time but absolutely adoring the attention at the same time.

[chasingthestarss]

James Potter is a weak man! Not because he is actually weak but because he has no resistance to puppy dog eyes or crying or anything really.

Sirius asks James to pull a prank on the Slytherins and James says no he’s a little busy with quidditch and Sirius just tilts his head with a frown and James gives in EVERY time.

Peter invited James to play chess but James already has plans so Peter just nods and looks resigned to his fate and James cracks.

Regulus however, he is the worst. Because he cries. And he can full on sob to get James to do whatever he wants. He can’t resist Regulus with tears in his eyes much less with tears running down his cheeks.

James Potter is a weak man but he is completely fine with it

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 169

Danny is from a world where everyone has wings, even if most have long since lost the ability to fly. Something about loading and aspect ratio, wings being too small, body too heavy, now mostly used as display, whatever. 

It doesn’t matter even if he had blueprints from when he was like six of a jetpack to help fly. It won’t work anyway and hey, he has his ghost form! Which uh, might be perhaps, affecting his wings which were maybe sort of scorched black and practically down to the bone thanks to the accident. 

It doesn’t matter, he swears. Though he’s admittedly relieved to see the new feathers growing in are different from Dan’s angry sunset. Even if they’re not even supposed to be able to grow back. Alright, this is fine, no one is going to notice! It’s not like everyone knows about the poor Fenton kid whose wings were absolutely destroyed thanks to an accident! It’s fine. 

He’s not flying in a half-panic towards the Far Frozen while crying because his wings are coming back and he’s so scared. He didn’t panic and instantly fled the moment Jazz pointed them out while changing the bandages. 

He definitely didn’t trip over something while wiping away said tears and blacking out from all the stress and all of his problems that he definitely mentioned to someone and isn’t keeping a secret. Definitely. 

Hawkwoman and Hawkman would like everyone to know that neither of them were expecting a very small child to be spat out of the villain of that week’s machine that should definitely not be a portal. A very small child, maybe nine or ten, with a multitude of concerning wounds both old and fresh. Which isn’t even beginning to touch on the wings. 

Feathered, like baby down despite the gnarled scars, unlike their own metallic, with the beginning of tiny specklings like stars amidst the darker fuzz peeking from the wounded flesh. 

Who?! Who dared?! It’s (at least to the forever reincarnating duo) a literal baby! They still have down! Tiny baby fuzz! Was it the portal?! Oh this villain is going to taste their maces for causing this if that’s the case! 

The rest of the Justice League would honestly like to know what just happened and are honestly unsure on if they should stop the two…

[sunsestart]

I've never shared my Wingdings design pre-accident around here so here u go:0

He's just a silly guy! (Beware of explosions)

[schwarz-san]

A Revenant for The Red Knight

Your typical Dp x Dc Summoning AU, but with a twist.

Jason is having a bad time.

The most of the family to be honest.

Why? Cultist. In Gotham.

One that worship some kind of All Powerful Eldritch Death Outer God from Beyond and plans to summon the Thing to this plane of existence.

The worst part? Most of the bats are being use as sacrifice. Wait no, the worst part is that Jason is the main sacrifice.

They did contemplate whether to use Jason or the Demon child, but end up deciding to use Jason instead. Something about being having essence of Death and the Multiverse in his veins and you know what? He's not gonna touch that with a ten foot pole. Nope.

The demon child is lashing out like the unvaccinated feral racoon that he is, Dick is trying to escape and so does Bruce as well as trying to make sense of the Summoning circle that the cultist were using. The replacement is snoring, the asshole.

Hah. Thats what he get for drinking five mugs of expresso instead of sleeping then gatting tranq.

Also, fuck Bruce for not calling Constantine or Zattana the moment they smelled something supernatural.

God, he hates magic.

The cultist started chanting by then, speaking in a language that no one understood—huh? Well look at that. He could apparently. He could hear them chanting in that unknown language and english at the same time, its over lapping. Weird, its like it was being translated especially for him since the others didnt seems to show any recognition with the words the cultist was using.

Except maybe the demon child, but the others? Nada.

"—Ruler of the inbetween, Heed our call. Defeater of the Dark Tyrant. Master of Space, The bridge between Every Realms, The Great One, The Balance—"

Thats a fuck ton of titles.

The circle began glowing green and fucking Lazarus waters began to pour out and thats not fucking good.

Pillar of unnaturally Neon Red Fire emerge from the Circle and destroyed the ceiling and shook the entire ware house.

A tall armoured figure emerge as the pillar of fire began to settle out. It was floating above the circle, looming over everything in a terryfing manner. Temperature began to rise as the being's Unnayurally white gaze fell upon them.

It was… a knight? A knight cross over a biker??? It also had guns which is weird and is that a fucking Bat Insignia on its chest?

Pressure from all side crash over them as the beings gaze intensified before vanishing all together the moment its gaze fell on jason.

After what seems to be eternity, the being finally spoke.

"Huh. His majesty was right, I really was that stinky and fuck up before he find me."

???

The knight biker then remove his helmet to reveal his own face with a domino mask with his color pallete just inverted.

The doppelganger then pull out his gun and began shooting down the cultist all against the other bats protest. One by one the cultist vanished in to tin air as if they didn't exist all together.

He snapped his fingers and the rope that tying the burst in the same crimson flames and vanished all together.

"What the absolute fuck is going on here?!"

Or cultist used kidnap batfam and use jason as a sacrifice to the ghost king to summon him.

They summon Alternate version of jason who is a halfa and work as one of Danny's Fright knight: Red Knight.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hey not sure if your currently taking requests but I just wanted to I soooooo stoked that you write for Remy! I've been starved for years cuz there's like no fan fics for him😭.

anyway I was wondering if you could do like a fic or headcannon where gambit somehow got hurt on a mission and is on bed rest but is also like really horny because you wont have sex with his since hes hurt.

If not that's fine I just thought it up and thought it would be hilarious 😂. Anyway luv your work, keep it up😘

NSFW!Gambit/AFAB!Reader

MMMMMHHHMMMMMM BESTIE UR MIND. ABSOLUTE GENIUS. I hope that you don't mind I did make it NSFW there at the end but the majority is just teasing our favorite gambler. Also, This is for the folks who were also really attracted to that one scene in criminal minds with the bulletproof vest. iykyk.

TWs: teasing, sexual innuendos, explicit smut, Handjobs, Mutual masturbation, PNV sex. Raw sex. (Wrap it bf you tap it yall) Creampie. Reader written with Fem! pronouns.

"Asolutetly not." You're quick to say it. Gambit pouts as the words leave your mouth, still on the infirmary bed with all the wires and doodads still hooked up to him. He's giving you those scoundrel puppy eyes that he knows you usually give in to, but you're not willing to budge this time.

"No, Remy. I will not be-" You take a quick glance around the room, leaning in a little closer as you begin to whisper-yell at him. "-I will not be having sex with you right now!" Remy sighs in a pitiful way leaning against the headboard in your direction. You can’t begin to look him in the eyes right now, instead lightly pushing his face away from your spot, sitting close to his bed on a chair that you had moved from the corner. His pout turns into an amused smile, as he instead takes your hand in his own, moving it down to press a kiss to your palm. You try not to blush at him. You’re supposed to be standing strong, dammit! 

  "Come on, Chère. S' not like it's gonna make Gambit hurt any worse-” You cut him off by lightly slapping his abdomen. Remy immediately flinches, curling in on himself with a pained groan. You feel a little guilty afterward, flattening your palm to rub the area soothingly.

    “Yes, it would. Remy, I could seriously hurt you. You heard beast, any vigorous activity could rip your stitches.” You say, moving to where you can sit on the bed, facing him. You cup the side of his face, gently moving stray locks out of the way. He rolls his eyes, not at you, but at the memory of the talking-to he got when he had woken up in the infirmary. 

    “Never stopped me before. Since I been with the X-men it’s like everythin’ become a big deal. So what if I rip a few stitches here an’ there?” Remy grumbles. You give him a stern look, before leaning in to kiss his temple. He melts into your touch.

    “It is a big deal, Remy. You need to heal. End of discussion.” You say gently. Remy thinks on it for a moment, before giving you a slight smirk. 

    “And by “end of discussion” you really mean “Until Gambit tempts me into bed”, Right?” He says. You roll your eyes at him before standing. If that’s the attitude he’s going into these next weeks with, you know for a fact he’s going to be insufferable.

    You were right. The incoming weeks were almost as much torture to you as they most definitely were to him. Wherever you went in the mansion, Gambit was sure to follow. He’d be in the kitchen while you would be cooking, unable to help due to doctor's orders, but no one ever said that he had to stay out of the kitchen. He’s come up behind you, snaking his arms around your hips as he’d “Give you pointers”. He’d lean close and whisper in your ear, sometimes giving it a nip or two. But one thing about Gambit is that every time you turned him away, or laughed at him and told him to sit down, he’d get pouty. 

    That was a trend that continued. He’d deliberately go out of his way to tease you, on movie night, in the library, in the showers even. And every time, despite how hot under the collar you might have been, you turned him away. The more bothered you seemed to be however, his pouts turned into smirks. Eventually, you got fed up with it. You were trying to be a good girlfriend and make sure Remy didn’t hurt himself, but if he was going to be a brat about it, you could be a brat too.

    You started off a little more subtly than Remy did. Lingering touches here and there, kissing him just long enough to leave him wanting. You’d wear just a tad less clothing around him, or wear slightly lower-cut tops. You were beginning to realize just how easy it was to get him riled up.

    One particular day, the tension was thick in the air, having coalesced into something barely breathable. Remy was lying back on the bed on his elbows as you redressed his wound, making sure to spread ointment onto the healing stitches and care for the skin. You frequently found yourself drawn to the sight of his lower abs, the large bruise having begun to yellow as it healed. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't seen his skin in a while, but the sight of him had you breathing a little funny. Remy was also a little quieter than normal, unable to look away from your gentle hands as you took care of him.

    Once you finished, you lingered by his side, a hand pressed against his chest. You look up to find him already watching you, but neither of you says anything. You purse your lips, debating on whether or not you’re doing what you think you’re about to do. Remy tilts his head at you questioningly. He opens his mouth to speak but fails to do so as your hand trails down to his waistband. He takes a shocked breath through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he’s looking at you again through a lustful haze. 

    “Thought you said-”

    “Shut up.” You sigh, cutting him off. Remy smirks at you, biting his lip. You roll your eyes, caressing the crotch of his pants a few times before you begin to slip them off of him.

    “Don’t get too excited.” You whisper, but really it sounds more like a needy sigh. “Just a handy, okay?” Gambit huffs a laugh at you, but doesn’t tease. He's practically bucking his hips into your hand when you finally take hold of his cock, stroking him to hardness. You can’t seem to look away from the sight, watching as his abdomen clenches with every stroke from base to tip. You twist your hand on the upstroke, listening as Remy lets out a curse and a sudden moan just as you thumb his head, collecting his abundant precum as you use it to stroke back down again. 

    “You’re really pent up, huh?” You ask in a heated whisper. Remy’s head is tilted back in pleasure, and he huffs in amusement as he cracks an eye open at you. His hand slides up your thigh, Your legs being pressed against each other tightly to find some friction. You gasp as he suddenly slides two of his fingers up the inside seam of your pants, and you can practically feel yourself get wetter at the touch. 

    “Looks like I’m not the only one.” Remy hums. You can’t seem to pull away from him as he continues to stroke you. The air is hardly breathable, and the burning in your chest and your core starts to become too hot to ignore. 

    “Fuck it.” You say. Remy is confused when you let go of him, only to break into a wide smile when he realizes you were beginning to strip. The shirt is first to go, before your bra, and then your jeans and underwear. Remy wolf-whistles at the sight, and you wave him off, embarrassed. 

    “Couldn’t stay away from the temptation of Remy LeBeau, Now could you Chère?” Remy muses. He’s such a goof. You try to hide your smile as you carefully straddle his legs, making sure to avoid his sore spots. One of his hands holds onto your upper thigh, the other making its way to your center. He strokes you languidly with his fingers before circling your slit and pushing two inside. You suck in a breath, careful to set your hands on his shoulders without putting any weight onto them. 

    “Looks like this pretty pussy missed me as much as I missed you,” Remy says breathlessly. His eyes flicker from your cunt up to your bare breasts, and then to your flushed face. You feel like you’re falling apart too quickly, already climbing that high as he fingers you with those hands you love so much.

    “Remy,” You call for him breathlessly. “ m’ not gonna last too long.” Remy can't help himself any longer, and pulls you closer to catch you in a passionate kiss. He drags his teeth across your bottom lip, letting go of the plush skin. He doesn't withdraw his fingers until your thighs begin to shake and you start to clench down on him. You whine as he does so, barely holding your composure. Remy takes your hand off of his cock, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before gently dragging your hips further into his lap. Your mind is hazy, but you know to be careful as he lines himself up.

    “If we're going to do this, we're taking it my speed, okay?” You say. Remy nods, barely taking in the information. He was ready to be inside you. After weeks of nothing- all he could think about was you. Your giggles, your smiles. Your body. The way you taste on his tongue. The feeling of your thighs clenching around his head.  Remy would do anything you asked of him at this moment.

    You take it slow as you lower yourself down on his cock. The stretch of him feels delicious against your inner walls. Remy leans in, kissing and sucking on your breasts as you take your time. He bottoms out with a wet sound, his hands resting against your upper thighs.

    Remy curses as you begin to move, bouncing on his cock somewhat slowly. Even in the haze of your lust, you're worried about hurting him. Remy, on the other hand, doesn't share the same sentiment. His hands clench around your thighs, and when he can't seem to take the slow speed anymore, he slams you down onto him.

    You gasp at the action, and apologies spill from his lips as he tilts you forward, knocking your balance so you're forced to lean onto him as he controls the pace, eagerly thrusting into your heat. 

    “Remy-” Your protests are cut off with a kiss as your favorite scoundrel begins to take exactly what he wants. His grunts and moans beneath you send another trickle of warmth inside of you. To be honest, seeing him take control like this was hot- almost hot enough for you to forgive the fact that he was certainly overexerting himself- but it was hard to be mad at him when he's fucking you so good.

    One thing about Remy is that he's a talker in bed. If anything, you were surprised he was as “quiet” as he had been the majority of the time. But once he started to get closer to his peak, Remy began to ramble. 

    "You think you're smart? -Ah! Teasing me like that.. mmh… expecting me to just take it?" You're not really paying attention to his words, nodding in response while only thinking about his steady grip on your thighs and ass and the peak you're reaching so quickly. Remy squeezes you harder, almost harshly as he begins to take you faster. His hips begin to stutter, thrusts starting to do him in one by one. 

    Remy lets out a loud groan as he reaches his peak, burying himself deeply inside you and thumbing your clit. He continues to thrust as he helps you reach that white-hot peak of pleasure, pressing kisses to your temple as you ride it out on top of him. By the time you're both fully finished, you're panting for air. You're fully collapsed onto Remy's chest, Remy being absolutely boneless as he rests against the headboard. 

    “You’re such an idiot.” You say when you finally have enough sense. Remy just chuckles, continuing to press kisses to every part of your face and neck he can reach. You sigh happily as he does so, pressing some of your own kisses to his shoulder.

    When you finally peel yourself off of his chest, the first thing you check in on is his bandages. You scowl when you see that they've been soaked through with sweat, but more concerning is the spot of red that has started to form. You look up at Remy with narrowed eyes, and he quickly looks down as well, before looking back up at you and simply shrugging with a gleeful smile.

    “Casualty of love, Chère.”

[mumblesplash]

as if he needed more ways to be everywhere at once

[essektheylyss]

One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

[gale-force-storm]

I've been thinking recently about Gale, and how much of a romantic he is. He says he wishes he had time to do things properly, when he tells you he loves you. As though he has a specific idea in his head of what wooing and romancing were meant to look like.

Which lead me to wondering what kinds of things he might have imagined for himself when he was young, before Mystra fully got her claws in him.

Did Morena read him fairy tales - beautiful stories of romance and true love and happy endings? Did he find such stories himself, as he devoured book after book? Did he graduate to romance novels eventually, stories full of passion and adventure? Did he see elegant couples about town, and imagine one day being among them?

Did he daydream about heartfelt declarations? Of grand weddings? Of sweeping some future beloved off their feet and riding off into the sunset? Did he dream about building a life with someone? Did he imagine having kids? We know he's had mortal lovers before - were they mere dalliances, or something more? Did he dream of someday proposing to any of them? Of finding his own happy ending?

How many dreams did he give up, in devoting himself to Mystra? How many ideas about his future were sacrificed at her alter in return for her favor, and her promises which turned out to be empty?

How many dreams, once left forgotten in the dusty corners of his heart and mind, is he able to consider again, having found someone who loves and accepts him as an equal? Someone who he's actually able to pursue those fantasies with?

[unreliablesnake]

Territorial (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You meet your old high school crush and can't help but tell Vincent about it. But he's certainly not happy to hear this story.

Note: Takes place after my other Vincent fics, but you don't need to read them. / I wrote it in like an hour with breaks and it shows. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: smut (fingering) so MINORS DNI!!!

“Imagine my surprise when I found out it was him! He changed so much throughout the years. He was never the type to wear suits.”

You were laughing, excited that someone from your years in high school showed up in your life again. It was a nice surprise; you used to be on good terms with him, maybe even had a crush that stayed with you in the back of your mind. And now you were working in the same office building, so the two of you were already making plans to have lunch together in the following days.

“He’s been working there for almost as long as I do. How is it that we haven’t met yet? What are the chances?” you asked your boyfriend before taking another bite of your dinner.

But Vincent remained silent, his jaw tightening as you kept talking about your old friend. It took you some minutes to finally realize he didn’t want to hear about any of this. You shut your mouth the moment it dawned on you, and bit on your lower lip as you looked down at your plate guiltily, as if you had done something wrong.

“Are you done?” he asked with a frown, and after a few moments of thinking, you nodded. “I haven’t seen you this excited about a friend before, love. Or was he more than just a friend? Do I have a reason to worry?”

You gulped loudly upon hearing his question. He could see right through you as always, he knew about your crush without you saying anything about it. Too bad that to him it didn’t matter if you still had any feelings for that guy or not. You once had and that was enough for him to get mad at you.

Because he was mad, you knew that. It wasn’t jealousy, it was pure anger that he felt times like this. Every time a guy looked at you the wrong way, every time you dared to be nice to another man, Vincent got angry and took it out on you.

Of course, he would never hit you. Sure, he would spank you, maybe even choke you a little, but all of this would happen in the safety of your bedroom. He would never seriously think about hurting you, he loved you too much for that.

Or so you thought.

Now there was a glint in his green eyes, something you had never seen before. It was pure rage, fueled by your story about this old flame. “He’s just a friend, I promise,” you tried weakly, but despite being sure you loved only him, your thin voice made even you question if it was true.

He suddenly put down his fork and knife, took a sip of his wine–his eyes never leaving yours–then stood up and extended his hand to help you up. With your legs already shaking, you took his hand and stood up as well. For the first time in a while, you had absolutely no idea what he was about to do. Was it really that bad that you were so excited about meeting an old friend?

His fingers wrapped around yours tightly enough to make you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying out loud. You followed him across the rooms obediently, not asking him what he was planning to do now.

Once you stepped inside the bedroom, he slammed in the door and pulled you into a hungry, demanding kiss. You tried to push him away a little to breathe, but he only put his hand on the base of your skull and pulled you even closer. This was a first; he had never been this aggressive before, but now he seemed desperate to show you who you belonged to.

His hands were quick to remove your clothes when he finally let you breathe, fingers exploring every single curve of your body as if he had never seen you naked before. Then they moved between your legs, expert fingers slipping between your folds which drew a pathetic moan out of you, making you weak in the knees.

“Who do you belong to, hm?” he asked you before kissing you again. “Tell me, love, do you remember where you belong?”

“I belong to you,” you replied weakly as you put your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot, and it was hard to keep yourself together by now. “I’m so sorry,” you added.

While his fingers were pumping at a steady pace, chasing you towards your first high, Vincent looked you in the eye and tilted his head to the side a little. “Good girl. Never forget this,” he warned you darkly.

Your first orgasm made you collapse into his arms, but he didn't seem to mind, it only made him more determined to overstimulate you. By now you knew what this was all about. He wanted to mark his territory, showing you how good he was for you, how perfectly you fit together.

Jealous Vincent wasn't new. He was rough and focused on his own needs, using you as a simple fleshlight. But territorial Vincent was someone you hadn't met before. He wasn't controlled by his anger; he was driven by something else, as if he was desperately trying to prove to you that he was the only one who had a place in your heart.

It wasn't unusual for him to focus on your needs, but this was different. You couldn't quite put a finger on what the difference was, but you could feel it in your bones that something wasn't the same.

He kept calling you a good girl, telling you how badly he needed you, how you belonged to him, and how the two of you were brought together by fate. He was almost too sentimental, something he barely was with you. If you didn't know any better, you would have assumed he was worried about losing you.

“What's wrong?” you asked when you were lying in bed with you resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him.

But he remained silent, the only reaction was the way his grip on your hip tightened. Just when you were about to give up, he suddenly spoke up. “I want you to keep your distance with him. Lunches on weekdays are okay, but I don't want you to meet outside of that building. Can you promise me that?”

You thought about it, but it was a fair request. So you nodded, agreeing while also hoping for a change of his heart in the future. If that was enough to make him feel better, you were willing to do it for now. After all, you didn't want to ruin your engagement so soon.

[redhoodie1723]

esteban ocon being considered really tall when he's shorter than my dad, brothers, and a lot of my male friends is so funny to me

part 2 part 3

[nelkcats]

Crystal Warnings

Threats to Earth are not news to the Justice League. Neither is the fact that a threat is "too powerful" for them, what is new is that the U.S. government wants to provide them with help, since when have they ever wanted that?

It is a novelty that does not sit very well with Bruce, because he feels that there is something wrong with the situation. They had faced thousands of dangers but it is only now that they are offering something? Definitely suspicious.

However Clark's curiosity was only outweighed by Barry's desperation to find a solution so he agreed to listen to what the "GIW" had to say.

Apparently their current threat was very much connected to them, which Bruce was not surprised by, what did surprise him was that the threat was less of a threat and more of a warning of sorts. As usual, people had played with things they shouldn't, causing catastrophic results.

The organization that contacted them had some sort of crystal, they flatly refused to say where it came from but explained that it was very important to beings from another dimension, and they were trying to contain the threat but found it impossible.

What Bruce got out of that conversation was that the organization had greatly disturbed a civilization full of unknown beings for the sheer joy of it. And that their current enemy was nothing more than a being desperate to retrieve whatever the crystal was.

Clark, of course, asked them for the crystal, to which they seemed very reluctant but in the end agreed. And Bruce set about contacting Diana, because he was sure they needed a diplomatic intervention rather than an actual battle.

It became clear that the crystal was extremely important when the giant eldritch menace transformed into a desperate teenage girl the moment the crystal appeared in her field of vision. That was even more evident when hundreds of portals began to form around the place, different creatures scowled at the humans.

Bruce vowed never to place his trust in organizations outside the League and its allies again. He swore doubly so when the crystal stopped being a crystal and transformed into a groggy, sleepy teenager mid-conversation.

There really was a hell of paperwork ahead. But at least the world was saved from human stupidity, again.

[the-worst-is-yet-to-come]

Witch hours

[beatcroc]

i already wrote up a whole essaypost about the dynamic for these two but it's funnier to summarize it like this. also it's the only way youre gonna see anything resembling fp getting closure abt any of this :^) [x]

[dawnatlas]

happy new year!