#especially at the bridge ESPECIALLY AT THE BRIDGE

[mohntilyet]

continued rook-lucanis sketches from the last week or so <3

[nightingale-prompts]

God's TV- DC x DP prompt

Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.

So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.

Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.

It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.

No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.

It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.

A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.

Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.

"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.

While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.

Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.

"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.

"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.

Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.

"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.

Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.

Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.

"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.

"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.

"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.

The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.

It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.

Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.

"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.

"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.

"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.

"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.

"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."

"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.

"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."

"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"

"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.

"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.

"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.

[corkinavoid]

I'm pretty sure this has been done before (and several times), but brain going brrr, so

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids

Bruce doesn't even get to say anything when the door to his study opens with a slam against the wall, and before he knows it, he gets an armful of kids. As in, a bouquet of them.

"I'm so done," John Constantine breathes out, raspy and exhausted, looking like a trainwreck incarnate. Granted, the man always looked like one, but right now, the effect has been greatly worsened. The dark circles under John's eyes are, in fact, black, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in at least a week.

Bruce looks down to the small gaggle of children in his lap that he caught in his hands by sheer reflex.

All three of them look up at him with identical, sky blue eyes. They could be twins if it was not for their obviously different ages - the girl looks no older than three, while the boys are probably around five and six.

The older boy scrunches his nose. The girl pouts, but it looks directed at Constantine rather than at him.

Bruce looks back to John, a silent question in his eyes.

"They are- Well, not mine, for starters," the man begins, placing his hands on the table right over the sheets and documents, and leans on it, hanging his head down. Then, he raises one hand up and waves it in the air, "Not yours either, thank the Gods for that." He takes a deep breath.

Bruce's eyebrows raise all the way up to his hairline. The girl starts trying to wiggle out of his hands, but the middle boy holds her back, keeping her in Bruce's lap. She pouts harder.

"And you've brought them here why?" Bruce breaks the stretched out silence, gently repositioning the kids into a more comfortable hold. John raises his head up at him, and the magician's eyes look straight up pleading.

"You're the only person I know of who is, one, a parent, two, acquainted with supernatural, three, a man of great patience, and four, owes me a favor." Constantine lists off reasons that don't really make sense all together, especially regarding kids. Then he thinks for a moment and adds, "Five, owes a shitton of liquor."

"John, what-"

"Listen, I've been dealing with them for a week, I'm at my limit," Constantine interrupts him, desperate and close to whining, "I haven't slept in more than three consecutive hours for days. I don't remember the last time I ate. Or took a shower."

Yes, Bruce can see that. Or, rather, smell it. But that answers none of his questions as to who, why, and how.

"I would kill for a bath," John admits, like it's some sort of a secret. The middle boy opens his mouth, but Constantine points an accusing finger at him, "No, the puddle of melted ghost ice does not count for a bath. And don't come at me with your death puns."

The child rolls his eyes but closes his mouth back and slumps. Bruce resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, but only because he is holding three kids. His hands are full, quite literally.

"John, I need you to explain," he asks, somewhere between a demand and a careful inquiry. Because, really, the man looks on the brink of losing his sanity, that much is evident. Bruce might not like the man, but he can at least partially sympathize with dealing with kids.

His bare minimum of sympathy - and isn't it a bizarre thought, emotionally sympathizing with John Constantine of all people - does not ease his growing worry and irritation. The girl starts trying to get out of his hold again.

John takes a very deep breath, holds it, and then-

"I stole them," he says, looking Bruce dead in the eye, with a sense of resigned, if a bit unhinged, determination. And, before Bruce is able to ask literally anything else, he keeps going, "Their parents are shit, a branch of government is out for their guts - as in, literal guts - there was- there is a backdoor to the afterlife in their basement, and also they are dead and because of some Realms fuckery and their spiritual granddad being a huge pain in the ass, they are all wrong ages."

Bruce blinks. Then blinks again. Processing that sentence turns out to be a lot harder than he estimated.

The oldest kid in his lap gives John a middle finger, nearly sneering. The girl starts snickering, somehow making it soundless.

"Oh, and they are under a silence charm because if I hear one more references to fucking Ghostbusters I will shoot myself," Constantine finishes matter-of-factly.

Distantly, Bruce wonders if John can make that spell into some sort of an amulet. God knows, Dick really needs one sometimes. Steph does, too. And Jason. Actually, all of them need one.

He looks over the kids again. They don't seem scared or unsettled, neither by the fact they are sitting in a lap of a stranger nor by Constantine's bullet point version of a summary to their lives. They mostly just look annoyed and grumpy, and a bit embarrassed in case of the middle boy.

Bruce sighs and decides to start somewhere.

"Do they have names?"

[part 2 ->]

[yandere-daydreams]

Hear me out hear me out on this concept idea

Southern gothic small town pastor Geto AU

tw - non/con, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, financial abuse via organized religion, and implied kidnapping.

wait that would actually be so hot of him actually.

i don't know what is about geto but he just,,, radiates scummy religious figure energy to such an atrocious degree. like, couldn't you just imagine him moving from small town to small town, posing as a country-values pastor to scam his ever-growing congregation out of their life's savings and retirement funds before smuggling himself away and moving on to fresher meat? if he works quickly, the whole operation takes a little less than six months, and he's got such a charming smile and such a soothing voice - no one's ever so much as thought twice about trusting him, not really, not unless they wanted to be the next town outcast.

well, no one aside from you, of course.

it's cute - just how suspicious you are of the man who has your chronically truant parents sitting in the front row of his chapel twenty minutes early. you'll tell anyone who's got the time to listen that you don't like his hollow expressions, that you don't find his sermon-topics appropriate, that you don't trust how quickly he showed up after your last pastor suddenly went missing. no one listens to you, of course. you burnt that bridge when you decided to move away to some big, new-age city and attend some expensive, self-aggrandizing university. like him, you'll only be in town for a few months, just until the start of your next semester, but unlike him, you actually care about what's going to happen to your neighbors after you leave. the fact that you stopped going to church entirely after he took over doesn't help. in a town like this, you might as well be signing the warrant for your own social exile.

you make an effort to keep your distance, but he just can't seem to pay you the same courtesy. in a town like yours, it's can be hard not to run into familiar faces, especially when he seems to stop in at the general store where you picked up a summer job every other day, when he mentions to your mother that they could really use an extra pair of hands at the church's monthly bake sale or tells your father that he might want to bring a helper the next time he comes to fix up a few things around the sanctuary. you're always so flustered around him, always so brooding - like you think someone's going to believe you just because you cross your arms and pout. he savors any chance he gets to touch you - whether it's his hand ghosting over the small of your back as he moves past you in a narrow hall or your body pressing into his after he forgoes your offered handshake in favor of a nice, tight, neighborly hug.

and, when you come to him, he thinks he might finally know why people try so hard to get into heaven. it goes without saying that you're irate, shouting at him from the steps of his parsonage as you demand he return the tens of thousands of dollars that your mother so generously donated early that day, but it's not hard to convince you to come inside, to get a glass of wine into your hand under the pretense that, if you really drove all this way just to yell at him, it's the least you deserve. things devolve from there - your glass looks a little empty, why doesn't he top you off while you tell him what a terrible person he is? you've already finished that bottle, but he's got a gorgeous vintage red, and you're just starting to slur - he's sure it'll be fine. and, oh, well, you're far too drunk to drive yourself home, but don't worry, his bed's big enough to share. and oh, look at that, don't you feel lucky to wake up naked and sore in an unfamiliar bed, the handsome young pastor's cock still buried inside of you? he's sure your parents will be elated when you two tell them about your new engagement (because, of course, you can't just sleep with your local pastor and expect to come out of it without a ring on your finger, can you?), even if you seem a little upset right now.

it's only as he watches you sob into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cum still dripping out of you, that he decides he might be able to stay in this particular small town for a few more months. just long enough to find a way to take you with him, when he leaves.

[bethanydelleman]

I really want to talk about this paragraph from the Pride & Prejudice epilogue:

Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion, he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation; and, after a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait on them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the visits of her uncle and aunt from the city.

I feel like a lot is made of women's unpaid labour in some domains (childcare, nursing the sick, cleaning etc) but we don't spend enough time talking about how maintaining social connections, with family and society, is also usually the work of women. This may be for many reasons, because it's not supposed to be work but pleasure, or because it's written off as just women gossiping, but it is work and it takes time and energy. It's also vitally important, maintaining social connections is what keeps you alive when times get tough but also what makes life worth living. These relationships will die without maintenance. The person writing letters, arranging holiday get-togethers, and smoothing over arguments is usually female.

Some readers hate this part, they want Elizabeth to Girlboss all over Lady Catherine and her snobby ways, but what does that accomplish? This is part of Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy's job, to do what she can to maintain family harmony. For better or worse, Lady Catherine is her husband's aunt, and burning a bridge is a big deal. I admire Elizabeth for putting aside her own feelings and moving towards reconciliation.

[nabaath-areng]

Orbital trajectory.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Hark! I submit an official request for Raphael and someone (dealer’s choice) getting hit with the old Sex Pollen. It could be a trick by Haarlep or a plant/mushroom releasing pollen/spores in Faerûn during one of his visits. I leave circumstances to your brilliant imagination.

I love the sex pollen trope and would love to see you write it :) As always, feel free to make him or both of them as tame or unhinged as you like! Thank you! 💕

❤️

Raph gets pollened ☺️

-

There was a lot of strange stuff to find laying about in the ruins of Moonrise Towers. Most of it caked in dirt, dust, and other unidentifiable substances. The kleptomaniac in Tav had her poking around, putting her mitts on everything before those little tiefling gobshites stripped the place bare.

She was enamoured by something: a big round vial that contained some viscous liquid which, when Tav cleaned the bottle a little, glowed an ominous dark purple. The stopper was wedged too tight to open. It had been fermenting for a long, long time. Tav had discovered the bottle in a box with a decrepit occult codex of some kind and a burned out incense holder. Bizarre findings that warranted further investigation – after she’d raided everything else of value, of course.

“Well, well. Where should I find the mouse but scurrying about in a ruined old attic? Apt.”

“Shit!”

Tav nearly leapt out of her skin. The bottle went flying, shattering on the ground. A thin, noxious violet gas began to seep from its shattered corpse. The smell was pungent, stomach-churning; like rotten eggs and swamp water. Tav coughed and gagged, eyes wet, glaring at the devil who’d startled her so badly. He stood there innocently, unassuming, a single eyebrow raised at her display of drama. So much for finding out what that potion did.

“Do you enjoy getting the jump on people, devil?” She said waspishly, moving further away from the mess. “Gods, that stinks.”

“Sometimes. Mortals are much more likely to agree to certain things when they’re frightened,” Raphael purred. He tilted his head, taking a small whiff of the gas. “Hmm…it smells like peaches to me.”

Peaches, sure. “What do you want?” Tav crossed her arms. Never turn your back on a devil. Especially this one.

“Merely to see why my favourite future client isn’t celebrating with the rest of her merry band,” said Raphael. Tav noticed he was surreptitiously inhaling deeper sniffs of the potion, like a dog that had caught an interesting scent on the wind. He may not have realised he was doing it. “After all, you freed the angel. You struck down the avatar of a God. One would think a hero of such calibre would at least raise a glass or two in victory, no?”

“I don’t like crowds,” muttered Tav, keenly aware he was mocking her. He was always mocking her. Raphael shifted his feet, coming just a bit closer.

“Yes, I know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I know a lot about you, Tav. I know the kinds of people you used to do business with before the mindflayers took you. I know the kind of work you did. I know where you came from, and where you were going before all of this.”

“What?” Tav stared at him, aghast. A mix of horror and, inexplicably, intrigue squirmed in her belly. How did he know these things? Why did he know these things? Something was off, though. Raphael seemed, for a brief moment, as shocked by his words as she.

“All that is to say…” He adjusted his collar. Loosened it. “Hells. Why is it so damn warm all of a sudden?”

In a crumbling tower, battered by the chilling miasma of the shadow curse, the only warmth came from the Infernal himself. “It’s cold up here,” Tav said slowly. A bead of sweat rolled down Raphael’s temple in contrast. “Are…you okay?”

“What a stupid question,” the devil snapped. He was becoming flustered, a fetching flush spreading across his harsh cheeks and the bridge of his handsome nose. “I must return to the Hells. Goodbye.”

He clicked his fingers, intending to disappear in a burst of hellfire as usual, but nothing happened. A mere sputtering of sparks from his fingertips fluttered and died. Outraged, Raphael clicked them again, harder, as Tav watched with mounting anxiety. No portal opened. The devil went nowhere.

“Foolish little bint,” he snarled at her. Revealed his pointed canines when he sneered. Tav saw his pupils were rapidly expanding, consuming the sweet brown of his human irises. “What was in that bottle you dropped?”

“I don’t know,” Tav bit back. Always aggressive when she felt cornered. “And you’re the reason I dropped it in the first place. Maybe this will teach you to stop needlessly scaring people, though I bloody doubt it.”

“If you don’t watch your tongue when you speak to me, I’ll pluck it out of your filthy mouth,” Raphael threatened, low and throatily. He tugged his collar open completely, revealing his neck and some teasing wisps of chest hair.

“Oh I see, the devil’s feeling a bit poorly so he finally shows his true colours,” crooned Tav. “It’s about time. I was getting tired of your gentleman act, you know.”

“Ah…to have your skin hanging on a hook in my foyer would be such a delight…” Rumbled the devil, almost absently. He began to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.

“What are you doing?!” Barked Tav. He didn’t answer. Tossed his coat aside and moved onto the buttons of his fancy white shirt. It was damp with sweat – and this was when Tav noticed the bulge between Raphael’s legs. His cock, hard and proud, strained in the fabric of his trousers. A hot spike of desire shot through Tav’s body. “Oh, shit…”

The potion must have been some kind of demented aphrodisiac, made potent enough over time that just a few inhales was all it took. It must’ve been pretty strong indeed if Raphael was crumbling under its influence so fast. Except it wasn’t affecting Tav. She could admit – only to herself – that her tingles of arousal looking at Raphael’s big, deft, tawny hands work the small buttons of his clothes, at the glistening, hairy skin of his chest as he opened his shirt, at his puffy dark nipples, at the trail of fuzz going down his soft middle to vanish below his belt, at the outline of his erection, at the wet spot its leaking head made on his trousers…they were on Tav alone. She’d been attracted to the smarmy devil from the start.

Figuring all this out, Tav had one thing to consider as Raphael reached for his belt: what did she do?

Indulge, of course. An opportunity like this only appeared once in a lifetime. A street cat like Tav knew it better than most.

So she bit her lip, breath baited, as Raphael freed his cock and balls, both fat with need. Ogled as he furiously, shamelessly, rubbed his prick, squeezed its swollen sticky dark pink head, his tight scrotum bouncing with the force, staring right at her as he did. Sighed when he came in moments, grunting, cum spilling on the ground, all over his knuckles, everywhere. His expression was stormy, devoid of relief or rapture, his cock refusing to soften.

“It’s not enough,” he hissed even as he milked more cum from himself in oozing pearls that lazily trickled between his glans, teeth bared in frustration. “It’s not enough.”

He looked furious, frantic, frayed, and so, so fuckable.

“Come here, then,” said Tav, distantly aware of how breathy she sounded, “let’s try something else.”

He was on her in a second. A waiting predator pouncing on its prey. Tav could barely gasp before he was swallowing her mouth in harsh, biting kisses, one hand fisting the hair at the back of her head, the other holding her hip with bruising strength. Tav greedily put her hands all over him, yanking his silky too-perfect hair, scratching his slick chest and stomach, crushing handfuls of his pliant backside. He was like a furnace, radiating stifling heat. He smelled like cherries and musky sweat. So human, but for the hint of sulphur he simply couldn’t hide. His tongue tasted like wine and fire when he forced it into her mouth, hungrily licking behind her teeth. He was a man unravelling, so much desire pressed beneath the surface just waiting for an excuse like this to burst free, and Tav wanted to see it all.

“Wretch,” Raphael spat when they broke apart. The ribbons of saliva connecting their lips were tinged red. He’d bitten her bloody. “Invading my thoughts…my dreams…and now my body…”

“Your fault,” Tav retorted, crying out when he jerked her head back, rolling his aching prick against her clothed sex.

“Inside,” he growled, losing coherence, “need to be inside…”

He manhandled her, pushing her onto a nearby broken desk. With one hand, and in one yank, he pulled her trousers and smallclothes down to her ankles. Tav heard fabric rip but couldn’t find the will to care. The eerie, twisted moonlight coming in from jagged cracks in the stone, the cursed lands’ grotesque long shadows – these things stretched and warped Raphael’s silhouette into the monster he truly was. Tav swore she felt claws, fangs, horns, saw the glint of yellow eyes…but he was still a man, driven and desperate, who pried her thighs open and stuffed her full of his cock, who rocked up on the balls of his feet to get as deep inside her cunt as possible.

“Fuck,” she groaned, raking her fingernails down his back. She was wet and willing, but it had been a while, he’d entered her without preamble, and his cock was thick. He was unforgiving, selfish, searching only for his own pleasure. The stretch, the burn, as he used her, fucking her hard, fast, violent, was hideous and exquisite. She clenched her cunt around his cock and he came immediately, snorting into her ear like a rutting bull. Filled her womb with hot liquid release. She could feel it spurting out of his cock with every throb. He had so much to give, and still he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Much to Tav’s delight.

There would be Hell to pay when this was over.

[longstoryshort22]

listen to the bridge of You’re Losing Me but think of it as the pov of real taylor talking to brand taylor😭😭😭 especially the “and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier, fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me” and “…who only wanted you to see her” and “I'm fading thinking DO SOMETHING BABE SAY SOMETHING, LOSE SOMETHING BABE RISK SOMETHING. you’re losing me. CHOOSE SOMETHING BABE I GOT NOTHING TO BELIEVE UNLESS YOU’RE CHOOSING ME”

ahhhhhhh I’m literally dying inside

[catboymoments]

I remember you said Hunter and Lilith used to be close before Belos caused a wedge between them. Do you think they ever got the chance to just sit down and talk about it post-W&D? Or do you think that bridge has been burned?

I definitely think they were able to talk it out especially since Lilith was able to rekindle her relationship with Raine too

[ellecdc]

Hi ✨️💖✨️ congratulations 🎉 i'm here for the drinks and was wondering if i could have super indulgent polymoonwater w barty comforting reader who is insecure about her small boobs please ☺️

Yes!! Thank you for playing 🫶

So I feel like, especially if regulus is cis-gendered in this scenario, neither he nor barty are going to really understand what it feels like to be self conscious of their appearance? Black’s are notoriously gorgeous, and though canonically Harry suggests regulus isn’t as pretty as Sirius (though the poor sod spends so much time talking about how attractive Sirius is that I don’t think he’s a reliable narrator), in my universe, he’s also gorgeous

Regulus immediately sort of shuts it down, ‘there’s nothing to be shy about, amour, none of us care?’ But like, that’s not the point you stupid beautiful man, yk?

Remus is sympathetic and offers knowing looks and loving smiles

Barty immediately starts trying to untangle the worry “well…are you upset that I don’t have big boobs?” - “well, no, but…” - “then why would I be upset that you don’t? Remus and Reg have even smaller boobies, but you don’t hear me complaining about that, do you?” - “it’s not the same, Barty”

“Okay” Remus interjects, seeing that the conversation is quickly spiralling out of control. He knows Barty always means to say the nicest things, they just never translate that way. “Barty has a bit of a point though, yeah? We all find very different things attractive, and having big boobs isn’t something we ‘require’ to find you attractive. You’re our beautiful girl.”

You let out an unconvinced sigh and lean back into your chair. “I love your boobies. They’re my favourite.” Barty proclaims. - “yeah?” You ask shyly, he looks at you like you’ve asked a sort of ridiculous question. “Well, yeah. I get to put them in my mouth?”

“Barty…” Remus chides tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose as regulus offers a simple “ditto”, causing you to snort a laugh and Remus to start scolding everyone in Welsh, even though none of you know what he’s talking about

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad Activity Report

Part 1

(As I mentioned before, all of this was retrieved and translated from the P3 Club Book)

4/6 (Mon) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo...

Today is April 6th... No, it's already past midnight. So, to be precise, it's the early hours of the 7th. A new member has arrived at Iwatodai dorm. He is a boy who seems a little quiet, but exudes a mysterious air about him.

Yes, to use a cliché phrase, he has that kind of aura that makes you feel like there is something shining there.

The Chairman had told us about his "potential" beforehand, but to be able to walk the whole way from the station to the dormitory without getting flustered during the Dark Hour... Marvelous! I'm really surprised!

It seems that he has not yet Awakened, but I am sure that he will be a great asset to our team. Today may be a fateful day for us.

Hehe... I seem to be in a surprisingly good mood. Let's hope that my hunch is correct and that I'll finally be able to put an end to my sadness of the past 10 years.

4/7 (Tue) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, it's Takeba. There are no club activities today. Oh, I guess escorting the transfer student who arrived last night to school this morning counted as part of the activities. He is, to put it nicely, "calm and collected," but from my perspective, he's way more than cool, and I don't know what he's thinking... well, you shouldn't say anything bad without knowing the facts.

Also, that idiot Junpei Iori from my class is getting a little too close to the new transfer student, so I made sure to tell him not to mention the Dark Hour thing. That's it. This is Takeba.

4/8 (Wed) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

Following on from last night, I was on a shadow patrol again tonight. The patrol area was the main street from Iwatodai Station to Moonlight Bridge.

Since the beginning of this month, there have been more and more rumors about shadows, but contrary to expectations, there are not many of them. To be honest, it's not enough.

I guess we have no choice but to build up our fighting power as soon as possible and begin our assault on that dreaded tower, Tartarus. They'll be gathering there. It should be a more efficient way to proceed with our operations than patrolling in the hopes of a chance encounter. Well, now is the time to lie low...

Ah, that's right. Tonight I found an unexpected find. A detailed report will be provided at a later date.

It's unclear whether it will be an effective fighting force, but it looks like it could be interesting in many ways.

Oh, and a message from Takeba to Ikutsuki-san: "It's embarrassing, so please stop the indiscriminate attacks of puns."

4/9 (Thu) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo. During the Dark Hour, we were attacked by a large Shadow unlike any we had seen before.

The Arcana was the Fool.

For more details, please see the attached report.

…Today's report may be a little too brief, but due to a series of shocking events, I'll have to be forgiven.

Above all, he is a newbie... He seems to be a little out of control, but he awakened to two Persona at the same time.

What if...

Anyway, the confusion on this matter has subsided.

I will provide a written report as soon as possible.

Oh, and there was some damage to the exterior walls and windows of the dormitory, but the overall damage seems to be minor. We plan to place an order for repairs with a contractor from our group as early as tomorrow.

4/10 (Fri) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

The damage caused by the large Shadow last night was greater than expected. Mitsuru said it wasn't a big deal, but it was a big burden on Takeba, as it was her first real fight. She's probably not going to be able to use her Evoker for a few days, especially due to mental fatigue.

The damage to the dormitory itself was even worse than it appeared, with several optical fiber cables for the internet broken.

Also, the newbie collapsed after the battle and remains unconscious. It seems that the cause was excessive mental concentration in order to control his Persona, but it is unclear when he will return.

It's true... I can't help it. I'll fight for anyone who can't fight for themselves... Hey, Mitsuru, what's with you all of a sudden... Whoa, wait a second...

(Some loud bang sound)

...Additional information from Kirijo. Akihiko has been diagnosed with a broken rib and will need one month to fully recover. For the time being, the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad will be effectively suspended.

...Correction: Akihiko has suffered a head injury. An additional half month will be added to the time until he is fully recovered. That's all.

4/11 (Sat) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

Dark Hour activities will be suspended for a while, but today I went to visit our new member, so I thought I'd let you know.

He's still unconscious, but the doctor said he's in good health.

From what I saw, his complexion was good and he had regained consciousness.

I think he might have gained weight from all the infusions. I'm a little worried, so I'll go and check on him again tomorrow at noon.

Maybe he will be cured completely.

4/12 (Sun) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, it's Takeba for the second day in a row.

Kirijo-senpai is out today, having gone to the Kirijo Group headquarters to report on the recent large Shadow incident. Sanada-senpai was about to go out for some personal training when he was spotted by Kirijo-senpai, who gave him a cold shoulder... well, not metaphorically, but more like, physically.

Oh, and I believe Ikutsuki must be feeling lonely without a supervisor...to be honest, it's painful. I hope the new guy returns as soon as possible. That's all from Takeba. Phew.

4/13 (Mon) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

As for the cleanup of the large shadow from the other day, it seems that it has finally come to an end, according to Mitsuru's report yesterday.

The rest is up to the Chairman and the specialist team. We just need to focus on defeating the shadows. That being said, we are currently overwhelmingly underpowered... Anyways, patience makes perfect, so we'll just have to be patient for a while.

That's right. Today at school, the Student Council election was held. Mitsuru was running for president, and it seems likely that she will win. The results will be announced at tomorrow's morning assembly, but should I start thinking about what to say to congratulate her?

4/14 (Tue) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo.

There is nothing to report from the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad today. The new recruit hasn't regained consciousness yet. I wonder if he'll be okay...

Also, I apologize for talking about my personal matters, but as a result of the Student Council elections held yesterday, I have been officially appointed as student council president, starting today.

Let me report on it.

I have a lot of things to do this week to take over the Student Council. However, I am confident that I can achieve good results by utilizing the experience I gained as a Student Council member from my first year.

I hope that with this, I can be more confident in defeating shadows as well...

No... that's not it. That's not it. Why would I have confidence in the Student Council, in school life? My life may not be in danger, but the future can't be perfect either...

I may have been... a bit complacent.

I'm grateful for this activity report. Just having to say it out loud and record it is a lot easier than thinking alone.

It teaches you things that you would not notice on your own.

Thinking about it, I've always been told that I'm taking on too much on my own. Akihiko often lectures me about this.

Well, I'll make sure to keep this in mind when I deliver my inaugural address next week.

4/15 (Wed) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

Today is a day off for the Archery Club, so I went to Tatsumi Memorial Hospital again. …He is still unconscious, so I'm starting to get worried.

The other day, I was asked to read a report about his upbringing, and I did, but it was pretty sad that he doesn't have any family to help him if something happens.

It's pretty tough without someone...

I really hope he gets better soon.

That's all from Takeba.

Oh, that's right. I forgot to mention it, but congratulations to Kirijo-senpai on being appointed president.

4/16 (Thu) - Reporter: Shuji Ikutsuki

…This is Ikutsuki.

It seems like everyone in SEES has been pushing themselves too hard lately, so I've decided to let them go to bed early tonight. There's nothing of note to report regarding shadows.

It's really nerve-wracking to record in front of a microphone in this empty space.

I was so nervous that I had to go to the bathroom...

When recording, that is, when inputting sound, going to the toilet is inevitable, just kidding...

Ah, if no one listens to me, it's not worth it.

4/17 (Fri) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

It's Takeba! Well, he's finally woken up! According to the doctor in charge, he's in good health. He'll still be staying in the hospital tonight just to be safe, but starting tomorrow, he'll be fine to go to school.

Also, the Chairman said that he will finally tell him about SEES tomorrow.

I'm a little worried about whether he'll understand SEES' activities because he's a bit shy. Well, I can't force him, so it can't be helped, but if he joins, I think he'll be very reliable. I'll try not to get my hopes up too much and wait for tomorrow. This is Takeba.

4/18 (Sat) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

Good news! The new guy has been officially accepted into SEES.

…Honestly, even though it was an accident, I put him in a life-threatening situation, so I thought it was inevitable that he would refuse, but he seems to have a more flexible way of thinking than I had imagined. I can expect him to be an even more valuable asset in the future.

Oh, and by the way... I may have been a little too strict during the recruitment meeting. Sorry, Akihiko.

However, I need you to act a little like an injured person and exercise more restraint.

I don't want anyone to be forced to miss out...any more than this.

4/19 (Sun) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

The new recruit I picked up during the recent Dark Hour, whose situation had been left unresolved due to the large Shadow attack incident, is finally being allowed to move into the dorms.

The new recruit's name is Junpei Iori.

His detailed information should have been submitted separately, but he was in the same class as Takeba and the transfer student.

I had planned to keep it a secret until the last minute and surprise him, but Takeba's reaction when he moved into the dorm was better than I expected, and it was quite fun. If he continues like that, I think he'll fit in with the group quickly and do well.

He has a unique talent for creating a good mood, and in a sense, this is an advantage that surpasses his Persona abilities.

He has a unique talent for creating a good mood, and in my opinion, this is an advantage that surpasses his Persona abilities. Maybe I should follow his example.

And... finally, starting tomorrow, we plan to begin our search for Tartarus. Unfortunately, it seems Mitsuru won't allow me to join in, but even so... it's finally here...

4/20 (Mon) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

Today was my first time in Tartarus...and I'm kind of tired from all sorts of things...

But I'll try my best.

No, I think I can do my best.

The field leader, the transfer student, is amazing. I have my own goals, but I don't really know much about them.

I know I shouldn't rely on him, but it still seems like he could be relied on.

Now... if only we could do something about Junpei's stupidity, it would be fantastic.

Well, it's short, but I'm going to sleep now. This is Takeba.

4/21 (Tue) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

…Ah, ah...Is the sound properly? Ahem.

Hey, I'm Junpei Iori, a promising new recruit. Well, this is my first report. ...What should I talk about? The activities that seem to be part of SEES are, ah, I was told by Sanada-senpai to go to the Tatsumi East Police Station with the transfer student to buy weapons.

But if you think about it, that's just black market sales, isn't it? Is that okay?

I heard something on TV, but the number of Lost people, shadow victims, is increasing.

Well, that's where we come in... but it's hard to get used to the Evoker.

I don't think it's right. Isn't it possible to make it a more gentle design?

And then... Oh, by the way, Kirijo-senpai's inaugural speech as president was really powerful. I didn't really understand it though.

Is that it? Yes, it's all over.

SEES Members Talk!

Mitsuru: In addition to directing the daily attack on Tartarus, he is also involved in student council activities... right, he is also in the sports club.

Fuuka: Although he doesn't go every day, he participates in the same cultural club as me. The club president seems to think highly of him.

Yukari: So what was it called, that club thing... you do that too, right? Come to think of it, it's a really hard schedule.

Mitsuru: Even when he comes to school, he sometimes looks pretty pale. I wonder if he is tired after all. I am worried because he never complains or anything...

Yukari: Sometimes he falls asleep during class so soundly that his eyes roll up, or he goes to Mr. Edogawa's after school.

Fuuka: That's right, and then he takes this very suspicious drug that seems to emit smoke, and looks so happy... It's actually kind of scary how he becomes so refreshed so quickly.

Mitsuru: Sometimes during the Dark Hour he mutters to himself something like "The end is coming..." ...Could it be that he's in quite the dangerous situation...?

Yukari: ...

Fuuka: H-how can I cheer her up? Oh, that's right, how about equipping her with high leg armor and sexy heels!

Mitsuru: Wh...! Yamagishi, don't be so casual about it as if it's someone else's problem.

NEXT->

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 21 Shade

(You can all blame @voidsentprinces and one of their posts for inspiring this one cuz I sure as heck am. Spoilers through Dawntrail.)

-

In the colorful forests of Kozama’uka, a strange movement of light green catches my eye. For a moment, I imagine.

“This one finds this forest so lively! Will these ones feast soon with the bright feathered ones again?”

It was a trick of the light on banana leaves. The shade of our little courageous one is gone again.

-

We’re still in Kozama’uka, but the roar of the waterfalls is below instead of above, and we’re trying to reach out to the bandits harassing the Potsworn.

I think of a boy with gold hair and an eager smile, no longer wearing blue. “You gave me a second chance, and I’ve never regretted it. We’ll find a way to help them, too!”

I blink, and realize the only resemblance in the bandit before me is that he’s young and blond. The shade of our foolishly brave boy is gone again.

-

I cross the bridge to Shaaloani, with its hot, dry plains rolling into the distance, eventually leading to grasslands in the northeast and craggy hills in the west, toward what was Yyasulani.

A Landsguard officer speaks an order, but in familiar tones, a comrade to his men. His voice stirs a memory, and my mind wanders again.

“We’re a long away from Quarrymill, but this reminds me in some ways of home. I bet you still hear thanks enough whenever you go back.”

I look at the soldiers laughing with each other before dispersing to their duties. The shade of our revolutionary captain is gone again.

-

The sky always seems so close in Worlar’s Echo. The Yok Huy see a few more traders these days. I’m watching the moon cross the sky when someone lights a pipe, the smoke wafting past my nose. Comfortable as I am, I’m halfway to dreaming already.

“Foolishness. We know what it is now, hardly deserving the veneration bestowed upon it for so long. And you surely have better things to do than mourn the likes of me.”

I turn to protest, but now I am fully awake and see the pelupelu merchants smoking and haggling. The shade of our spiteful witch is gone again.

-

There’s a sense of responsibility to the people afflicted with levin sickness, especially the children. I make sure that Oblivion is getting the families everything they need. I visit the first boy we met with this illness, and offer a treat of real fruit juice from the farms. It’s a good day, and he smiles as he sips, his mother smiling through her tears as he manages the straw.

“You learn to take what moments of happiness you can get. You figured out how to help the light afflicted and the tempered; this too will be defeated in time. But find the little victories where you can meanwhile.”

I look up from the boy’s bed. It’s just him, his mother, and me in the room. The shade of our fierce carer is gone again.

-

I’m still awake in the pre-dawn hours, so take a mug of mate with me to the end of the boardwalk to watch the dawn. The endless blue of the water, with the light piercing into my eyes, makes me remember a similar sight at the end and start of everything.

“There is no true challenge in this land. ‘Tis a wonder you are not bored. But you always have found meaning and pleasure in people and their small matters.”

The sun continues rising and the city wakes. The shade of my antagonistic mirror is gone again.

I finish my mate, return to my cabin, and go to bed.

-

They come and go, these ghostly memories. Some not as much as they used to, since that journey into the aetherial sea. Perhaps their aid and that last chance to say goodbye made a difference.

Maybe I am simply sentimental.

“The burden of heroes and leaders,” one of my newer ones says. “We spend all our time fighting for their lives and happiness, and feel it keenly when we fail them. Yet they helped to shape us, and so stay with us. And we strive to do better by those who come after them.”

I look up, but the shade of that heroic father is gone, the echo of his boisterous laugh ringing through his city’s streets, in his daughter’s own laughter. She waves to me now, her brother, her nephew, and our comrades with her. They are all exuberant and bright and alive, with so much possibility ahead.

I laugh as I wave to my friends.

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

I’m trying to think about what I want to see with Ekko and the Firelights next season.

At the end of the day, the Firelights were made to be somewhat of a counter culture, a safe haven, from the culture Silco was curating in the Undercity. Ekko’s main descriptor of the Firelights included their oppression and survival of Silco and the drugs he pumped into their home. The Firelights started as somewhat of a rehab, they originally weren’t meant to be vigilantes.

Then, eventually when they did somewhat become vigilantes, they kept fighting for the home, but internally. Piltover was a distant, historical villain they didn’t dare to touch because they weren’t their concern right now. There were more direct issues that were presented by Silco as the development of the Undercity when it hurt the people who needed help the most. The Firelights couldn't go up against the big bad beast that is Topside, not yet. Piltover has always oppressed Zaun, but Silco? A so-called Zaunite nationalist and an Undercity native? He wanted to intensify and exploit a hierarchy that could go to bat with Topside’s. Piltover barely had a real relationship with the Undercity outside of abusing them for as long as people could remember, but Silco has a genuinely intense and intimate relationship with Undercity and the idea of Zaun. He was the problem most accessible to them that they could exercise their power against.

But Silco is gone now. The hierarchy is tumbling and Jinx, a former intimate Silco worker, is leading this revolution. This revolution that the Firelights are about to participate in that’s (kind of) spearheaded by Jinx isn’t really specifically what Silco wanted.

The identity of the Firelights is bound to change and I’m kind of nervous lol. The opposing sides of the Undercity was Silco and whatever he was doing and the Firelights who fought back. Now they’re mixing, matching and blending. At the end of the day, revolution strives on collectiveness and community. After the Marcus/Jinx’s Firelight Bridge Incident, their goals have to change. Jinx has killed a Firelight on screen and has continued to Ekko in harms way, but everything is bigger than that.

I just wonder what the Firelights will become or if they’ll dissolve. Is being a Firelight still a specific identity? ESPECIALLY since we see Ekko fighting alongside Vi in Piltover AND Caitlyn referencing “Silco loyalists” (which speaks more on her ignorance and disconnect despite having VISITED AND EXPERIENCED THE FIRELIGHTS)…….

idk, I think I just really love Ekko, the Firelights, what they represent as well as their effort, so I’m wondering how they’ll adjust themselves to fit in the frame of revolution.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 18/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

                He starts keeping a record of his favorite dishes, what he likes and doesn’t like about places they eat. And they eat at so many different places. While he might ring Ice once a week or every other week, me calls Leandro and Silvia almost everyday. And everyday Leandro or Silvia give them another instruction, a food to try or a place to go and visit, or a restaurant to go to. Ask to meet the chef, tell them who you are. They are expecting you.

                It’s the fact that they’re always somehow expecting Bradley and Violet means they can’t not turn up. Sometimes it’s high-end places where they are so incredibly underdressed it makes him uncomfortable, but he notes that in the best places they don’t pay any attention to what he’s wearing, all customers treated with the same level of respect and deference and he likes it, reminds him of Leandro’s restaurant.

                “Why are you keeping all these notes?”

                “I… I think I might want to open my own restaurant.”

                “Holy shit. Really?”

                “Yeah. Is that crazy?”

                “Yes. Absolutely insane. Where?”

                “I don’t know… Where do you think?”

                “Well. How much money do you have?”

                “Shit. That’s a good question.”

                “It’s a good thing I have a business degree.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, I’m not letting you go off and do it alone.”

                “Thanks Vi. I love you.”

                “Ew gross. Feelings. Love you too though.”

…            …            …

                He hears the door and the sounds of Jake kicking off his boots before they’re carefully placed out of the way. It’s after midday, so he’s not sure if Jake would have eaten yet, he’s just making some sandwiches, easy enough to simply put away for later if needed. Jake doesn’t bother calling out, heads straight for the kitchen like he knows that’s where he’ll find him and it feels nice, that he already knows Bradley so well.

                “Hey, how was your morning?”

                “Torture…” Jake offers. “But somehow not illegal.”

                “That bad huh?” Bradley asks, and Jake comes to stand at the corner side of the kitchen island, leans forward to give him a kiss and he can’t help but smile into it. The easy gesture of affection but also Jake’s dramatics over his sisters torturing him.

                “Do you promise not to hold my family against me?” Jake asks

                Bradley grins, goes to immediately tell him of course not and then pauses.

                “Well. As long as you can promise me the same, I guess. When the time comes.”

                “Pretty sure my five sisters are scarier than any family you can throw at me…”

                “Yeah… you’d think so. Probably. Just… uh. It’ll be fine.”

                They need to actually reach a milestone of maybe months or a year together before he considers raising his relationship with Ice. Vi might think his fame would cause issues, but he honestly thinks Jake won’t give a damn. Vi’s right, he’s far too down to earth and grounded to care about what fame or money Bradley might have behind him. He cares about the person Bradley is and it’s nice, makes such a nice change. However he suspects that Jake will care about his deeper ties with certain members in the Navy, especially given that they’re all Naval aviators as well. Right. Like what he thought before, he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. Jake has shifted closer, has stolen a sundried tomato and popped it into his mouth and chewing while he grins and then he’s kissing Bradley properly, the sharp tang of tomato still in his mouth.

                “Why are you always initiating sex in the kitchen...?”

                “It is pretty much where you spend a lot of your time. Where I find you…”

                “Huh. Yeah. I guess you're right.”

                “Hmm. Maybe spend some time somewhere else and then you might find me doing this in other places…”

                “Mmm. So it’s not me in the kitchen gets you going huh?”

                “Baby, you anywhere and everywhere gets me going. Think we've already determined the fact that all I need to do is look at you...”

                “Sweet talker.”

                “Just for you. Also we ain’t having sex yet. This is just a welcome home kiss. You forgotten what sex is already?”

                Bradley laughs against Jake’s mouth.

                “Yeah, think it’s slipping from my memory. You better remind me…”

                “Mmm. Hard job but someone’s got to do it…” Jake murmurs and Bradley hadn’t meant it as an invitation, not really, but Jake steps behind him, draws him back so that Bradley’s ass is cradled against his hips, he can feel Jake’s growing erection pressing through the layers of denim and his own cock has already started racing to catch up, an almost Pavlovian response now to seeing Jake simply walk through the door and surely he’s going to get used to it eventually. He braces his hands against the counter, shivers as Jake nips at the side of his neck, his hands pressing down over Bradley’s.

                “Yeah, keep them there…”

                “Huh?”

                Then Jake’s palming his cock, fleshy part of his palm dragging and pressing and he jerks a little, caught between wanting to grind back against Jake’s cock or press into the friction of his hand. He can’t decide, glad Jake clearly has a plan as he works Bradley’s jeans open, hand slipping inside and pulling his cock out, starting to work it, not giving him time to think other than I was making sandwiches for lunch. Instead he’s panting, hands white-knuckled on the kitchen bench as he feels Jake’s body flex behind him as he works his hand down-up-down.

                “One day I’ll come home and you’ll be in nothing but the apron…”

                Bradley lets out a choked laugh, wants to say something about saving it for a special occasion, he’s not wearing an apron right now, but Jake is shifting so he’s more caged in by his body, more of him is pressed up against Jake as he grinds his hips against Bradley’s ass, his teeth nipping at Bradley’s neck.

                “Love making you come for me…”

                “Oh,” the breath punches out of him and he doesn’t last much longer, Jake holding him in place as he shudders through his orgasm, can’t believe a handjob has him coming that hard. Jake makes a humming sound and Bradley wonders if he’s imagining him sounding pleased with himself, before he’s stepping away to wash his hands in the sink and Bradley’s glad he’s supporting himself against the bench.

                “You going to let me take care of you now?”

                “Oh sweetheart, I’m banking on it.”

…            …            …

                Jake isn’t sure what has opened the floodgates for Leo, but he listens as talks about his childhood, his dad dying in a training exercise at Top Gun and now that he thinks about it, he vaguely remembers reading about it, like they have to read through all the accidents and incidents so they can be better prepared. Bradshaw. That’s why the name rings a bell.

                Then his mom being diagnosed with cancer, his godfather being there when he’s not deployed. Other naval aviators being present as he grew up and he uses callsigns like they’re as natural as breathing and it occurs to him then that when Leo had said he knew what Jake’s job entailed he had really meant it. He knows it can be dangerous. He knows Jake will be gone for long periods of time and that communication might sometimes be difficult, even if it has gotten much better. Leo was raised not only by a family in the military, but by naval aviators and if Jake had been looking for someone that might understand his job without doing the job themselves, then he couldn’t find someone better.

                Then Leo talks about his mom dying, his godfather pulling his papers and his immediate and drastic decision to take the first plane out of the country. He files it away, that Leo’s first response when hurt and angry was to run away, wonders if that’s still the case. Then Leo is talking about his other family, the Gallo’s, and the way the name sounds has him grinning.

                “Sounds like you’re saying gallows…”

                “Yeah, pretty much. Why is that funny?”

                “Well, I know it means rooster, among other things…” Jake says, and he can’t help the grin as he thinks of the sexual prowess and loud voice. “But my callsign is Hangman.”

                “Okay…” Leo says, and it’s clear from his tone that he has no clue what Jake is referring to.

                “You’re clearly not a Styx fan. But there’s a line, Hangman is comin’ down from the gallows… You’re the Gallo…”

                “Then the line needs to be changed a little. Maybe going down on instead?”

                “Yeah? Just maybe?”

                “Yeah. Just maybe.”

NINETEEN

[goldenempyrean]

Close Your Eyes

〚 Notes - We haven't had a collab in a while, have we? I joined with the amazing @mapis-putellas on this so hopefully you enjoy! 〛

〚 Pairing - Supercorp 〛

〚 Summary - Lena is stubbornly working when she shouldn't be. Kara comes to bring her home. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2,380 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

Kara had assumed it was nothing. In fact, she’d hoped desperately it was nothing. It wasn't like Lena hadn't woken up a little stuffy before. A little grouchy and clingy wanting to be held just that bit little longer than normal. If truth be told, it was quiet a common occurrence - especially during allergy season when all of that pollen was in the air.  

However today it seemed as though Lena had wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Kara’s gentle hand grazed softly over the bare skin of her back as she'd burrowed herself against her chest.  

For a second, Kara had assumed she'd fallen back to sleep. This wasn’t like ger at all. No matter what, she was always up and out of bed before the clock could even strike seven.  God forbid, a Luthor stay in bed idle while the day passed them by. 

That morning Lena had seemed a little more subdued than normal as she sipped her tea and forced down some breakfast, but Kara again had thought nothing of it and simply put it down to simply allergies and the fact she’d just woken up. She had no reason not to believe it. 

After a quick shower, Lena left for work, as usual. The only difference being was she hadn't kissed Kara goodbye before she'd left. Now that wasn't normal.  Kara’s brow furrowed a little as she watched the door close behind her, her distinct crinkle forming at the bridge of her nose. Something seemed off. 

There wasn’t much she could do now except finishing getting herself ready for the day. Lena was constantly in the back of her mind however. Kara had a habit of zoning in to Lena's heartbeat periodically throughout the day despite her duties as super girl. It wasn’t spying or anything malicious, it was just that hearing that rhythmic beating was comforting and reminded her about all the good in the world, especially after a rough fight or incident. However, each time today that she'd listened in, Kara had heard said heartbeat speed up for several seconds before returning to normal.  

Now, the blonde may had been a little naive sometimes, but she definitely wasn't dumb. She knew full well that they were sneezes. Sneezes of which Lena was trying, and apparently failing, to stifle.  Now she really knew something was wrong. 

Lena never sneezed. Not really. They'd been together for over two years and Kara hadn’t seen Lena had only sneeze in her company more than 3 times. She'd passed that record by triple today already, and it hadn't even been two hours since they'd departed for their respective jobs.  

Her suspicions only grew from there and she just about managed to refrain from flying over to L-Corp and demand Lena go home. Kara knew that that wouldn't go down too well. Especially when her girlfriend was a little more...cranky than usual.  

It was no secret that Lena was a workaholic. In fact, she'd told Kara just that not too long after they'd first started dating - almost as though she was trying to warn Kara away.  

It hadn't worked, obviously, and slowly but surely Kara had gotten used to spending most days by herself. She'd visit L-Corp most days with lunch, - because Lena was nortotrious for forgetting the fact that humans need do indeed need food to function, and after they'd eaten, Kara would manage to coax Lena into her arms for a few minutes of snuggles, and then back to work it was.  

It was pretty much routine now. Their normal. And whilst Kara did sometimes wish they'd spend more time together, she'd gotten used to the fact that it was an uncommon occurrence. The last time they'd spend the entire day together was during her last solar flare just three short months ago.  

Lena had pretty much waited on her hand and foot, and had attended to every single one of her needs without question. She'd held Kara for hours on end, Kara's head on her chest and Kara's arms beneath her shirt, hands tenderly grazing over her bare sides. There had been lots of kisses too. Forehead. Nose. Cheeks, and lips.  

It was glorious, and despite the pain she was in, Kara had never wanted the day to end.  

Of course it had though.   

But apparently now, it was Lena's turn to be sick, which Kara was about 98.7% certain Lena was. The neglected 1.3% doubt was later confirmed when she'd gotten the phone call from Lena's assistant, Jess, pleading with Kara to come and get her girlfriend before she inevitably passed out.  

It had taken Kara mere seconds to make it to L-Corp, and with a deep sigh, - because she already knew Lena wasn't going to let herself be brought home without a fight, she pushed open the balcony door and slipped into Lena's office, meeting her girlfriends surprised look with a soft, yet hopeful smile.  

"Kara?" The sound of her voice alone has Kara's heart aching. It was so hoarse that it sounded painful.  

"Hi baby," She greeted her, walking over and crouching down. Lena turns in her chair to face her, and Kara automatically placed a hand on each of her thighs and gave them a soft squeeze. 

Lena sniffled wetly - a sound Kara decides to ignore, at least for now - before resting her hands atop of Kara's own. "What are you doing here?" She asked as she tilted her head to the side, and Kara had to physically refrain herself from awh’ing out loud as she interlaced her fingers with Lena's slightly smaller ones.  

"Jess called," was all she said, and that was all it takes for Lena's seemingly good mood to drop. She pulled her hands out of Kara's own and attempted to swivel herself out of Kara's personal space with a disgruntled look on her flushed face.  

Expecting this, Kara doesn't let this deter her and placed both hands on the arms of the chair preventing Lena from moving. Lena was visibly upset at this, eyebrows furrowing and lips falling into a small pout. Making it clear she wasn’t going to leave this, Kara reached to cup her chin and was met with Lena swatting her hand away and attempting to stand up. 

"Hey hey, no." Kara lightly chastised her, gently taking both of Lena's hands into her own. "You need to sit back down. I may be strong but I don’t think it’d look good if Jess walked in on me picking you up from the floor." She attempted to joke to ease the tension, and much to her relief, Lena's lips quirk up ever so slightly at the corners. 

"Jess called me," The blonde continued from earlier, doing her best to ignore the pleading look currently being sent her way. She hated confrontation. Especially with those she loved and Lena was the person she loved most in this world with the exception of Alex.  

She wanted so badly to leave Lena to her day because she hated seeing her girlfriend so upset, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. She'd never forgive herself if she knowingly let Lena work herself to exhaustion like this. 

So, she took a deep breath and forced herself to continue, "She called me and told me you were sick. And baby, you look it. You shouldn’t have even come in today.” 

Lena sniffled again; her green eyes considerably shiny with the onslaught of tears. "Kara..." she trailed off pleadingly, her voice breaking. By now, she was becoming considerably flushed in the face, her brow damp with sweat, telling Kara it may be best to hurry up and finish with this conversation so she could take her home.  

"I must admit I was suspicious from the second you woke up this morning," The pad of Kara’s thumb softly began grazing over her feverish skin. "I should’ve said something then but I decided to let you trust your own judgment, which I realised now may not have been the best decision."  

Lena, despite her obvious inner turmoil, leaned into Kara's soft touch, telling Kara all she needed to know. "Let's go home, okay?" She rises to her feet and holds out her hands.  

Lena frowns, "Kara, no. I have to work. You know that. I can't-" 

Okay. Attempt two it was.  

"Can't what? Be sick? Leave your job for one measly day so I can take care of you?" She wasn't opposed to getting a little defensive herself if it meant Lena would actually listen to her.  

Lena frowned at her, "That's not fair. You know how much this job means to me. I can't just-" she abruptly cut herself off, and for a second, Kara was concerned and watches as Lena's nose twitched and lips quivered. Seconds later, Lena pitched forward into her seat and sneezes both loudly and wetly into her hands.  

"Hts'choo!"  

Kara let out a quiet sigh as she grabbed two tissues from the almost empty box on Lena's desk and once again crouched down in front of her. She offered them out without a word as her hand comes to rest on the small of Lena's back, and the woman shyly took them from her with a somewhat embarrassed look on her face before softly blowing her nose.  

Kara waited patiently as Lena disposed of said tissue before she squirted some sanitiser onto her hands. She knew it may be best to give her a few moments to gather herself because the next time she attempted this conversation, she wouldn't be asking. 

In the meantime, Lena sniffled again and leant back in her chair as she looked up at Kara through tired, glassy eyes. Kara knew it was time for her to go home. Staying here would only do more harm than good and she knew that secretly, Lena would also much prefer to be cuddled up in bed rather than sitting uncomfortably at her desk. 

So this time she tried a different approach, “As L-Corp’s CEO, it’s your responsibility to make sure your company performs at its best, right?”Kara began, and waited for Lena to nod in acknowledgment before she continued, “You’re sick and quite clearly it’s contagious from the way the security guard I passed was sniffling. As CEO, It’s your responsibility to make sure your staff are doing the best job they can do and well, they can’t do that if they’re also coming down with whatever nasty bug you’re fighting, can they?” 

“So, it’s not only in the best interest of yourself but also your company if you be brave, admit you’re not feeling the best today and let me take you back home.” Kara finished. Her logic was irrefutable, even Lena could understand that. 

The ravenette seemed to fight herself on what to do before after a few long seconds, finally giving into the smallest of nods. That was more than enough for Kara. She reached down and helped Lena up, pulling her waist up and towards her into a hug. She could feel Lena hold her breath as she rested her head onto her shoulder, seemingly trying to stop herself from breathing heavily or sniffling. 

“You’re okay love, just relax.” Kara whispered as she rubbed her back as Lena let out a long shaky exhale, “You’ll be okay, I promise. A nice hot bath and some snuggles on the sofa is just what you need. Thank you for letting me taking you home.” 

“M’sorry I’m so stubborn, I know it’s difficult-” Lena began but was cut off by Kara shushing her gently, her hand reaching down to take it into her own as she led her towards the door. 

She pushed open the door and held it as Lena walked through, “I knew what I was signing up for. Yes, you’re as stubborn as anything and it can be a real pain in the... anyway, regardless of that I still wouldn’t change you for the world. You’re my Lena Luthor and I love you.” Kara finished by kissing her softly, making up for the one she lost this morning. The two stayed like that for a minute until Lena had to inevitably break away to breathe. 

Kara smiled softly as Lena took a deep breath, the strain still visible on her flushed face. “Come on, let’s start getting you home.” She said quietly, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend’s waist as they headed towards the elevator. She could feel Lena leaning more of her weight against her, a clear sign of just how exhausted she was.  

The ride down to the lobby was quiet, save for the occasional sniffle or cough from Lena. Some curious people glanced at them curiously as they passed by, but no one dared say a word. Jess stood by the front desk, looking relieved as they approached. She gave her an appreciative nod, a gesture she knew Jess understood. She made a mental note to buy her some flowers or a small gift at a later date. 

In the meantime, Kara continued to guide Lena out of the building and into her waiting car. She helped her settle into the passenger seat, buckling her in with careful hands. “Just relax, okay?” she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Lena’s face. 

The driver looked at her curiously, “Where to Miss Danvers?” He asked as Kara climbed in the backseat at the other side. She thought for a moment as Lena scooted over a little to lean against her side, letting her head drop onto her shoulder. 

The blonde couldn’t resist cooing quietly at how clingy her previously stubborn and crank girlfriend had become, “Pharmacy first please then back to our apartment. Thank you.” She turned to Lena, letting her hand come to the back of her hair to gently undo the tight ponytail she’d had it pulled up into. Instantly she could feel Lena’s expression soften slightly as the pressure in her head relieved just a little, “Just close your eyes and sleep love. I’ll get everything we need and when you wake up, we’ll be back home, okay?” 

The Luthor sighed softly and nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she quietly whispered, “Thanks Kara.” 

“You’re welcome sweetheart.” 

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[jamiesfootball]

@whydoilikevillains14113

Waaaaauuuugh, thank you for this! It's so lovely when people ask for stuff, especially stuff that I haven't posted about in a while! Gives me the warm and fuzzies, that does

I didn't have a snippet to share that was really ready ready, so I made one! Then it got big.

From the longer version of this post, where Jamie stays with the team in Amsterdam, and after the pillow fight decides to share with them what happened the first time he was there.

No content warnings apply to this snippet in particular, but it does discuss some of what Jamie has just shared with his teammates

"I'm sorry," Jamie blurted, unsure of what else he could possibly add to- not excuse it, no, but to rescue some of the image of himself in Sam's eyes. The shadow of Sam hovering over him felt heavy with the potential of he didn't know what. He wished he could shrink, seep into the hotel carpet until he spilled out the other side, underground somewhere below the basement where only the bones and the rot would welcome him. He squeezed his eyes shut; forced himself to open them again. Blinked wetly at the shadows and the broken light spilled across the ceiling. "I know you don't- approve of that sort of stuff-" The angel that was Sam's shadow bristled, and Jamie swore he saw white feathers dance from his shoulders.

"Of course I do not approve-," hissed Sam, only for his words to come to a sharp stop. Jamie couldn't see what was happening on his face, but he could hear the air shift as something churned over in Sam's head, some great gears stirring through the muddied waters. With awful softness, he said, "Jamie. Are you under the impression that I am upset because you visited a sex worker?"

His ears burned. Stupid reaction, that, but hearing Sam put it so bluntly made a fresh wave of shame curl in his chest.

He shouldn't have said anything. He should've left it in the dark, under the waters with that skinny kid and his naively stupid heart and the footprints that stopped at the edge of the bridge.

"I dunno," he shrugged helplessly. His teeth ground together like stone, and if he twisted his fingers any tighter he might accidentally spark into flames. "You seemed pretty against it earlier when we were voting."

Sam shook his head, dislodging more feathers from the sky. "No, no, that's not-"

"That isn't a sex work problem," Jan interrupted. It was the first he'd spoken since Jamie started talking, and he'd never heard him sound so angry before. "That's illegal."